Los hombres, “let it out (let it all hang out)’
from: let it all hang out, 1967
It takes high classified, Memphis based knuckleheadery to raise hand-clapped magic to a level of comic truth such as this. Its small moving parts are delivered with a tobacco chewing self assurance that crawled out from behind a garage full of seldom used tools. The 1960’s were bereft without the meagre advice and that organ player trailing up the rear of the short and sweet “Let It All Hang Out.”
““A preachment, dear friends, you are about to receive
On John Barleycorn, nicotine, and the temptations of Eve”
(Bronx cheer)
No parkin’ by the sewer sign
Hot dog, my razor’s broke
Water drippin’ up the spout
But I don’t care, let it all hang out
Hangin’ from a pine tree by my knees
Sun is shinin’ through the shade
Nobody knows what it’s all about,
It’s too much, man, let it all hang out
Saw a man walkin’ upside down
My T.V.’s on the blink
Made Galileo look like a Boy Scout
Sorry ‘bout that, let it all hang out
Sleep all day, drive all night
Brain my numb, can’t stop now
For sure ain’t no doubt
Keep an open mind, let it all hang out
It’s rainin’ inside a big brown moon
How does that mess you baby up, leg
Eatin’ a Reuben sandwich with sauerkraut
Don’t stop now, baby, let it all hang out”
Turns out Red Ingle and the Natural Seven were partly to blame for this.