Campfire Songs
Run by the Retired Scouter.

Retired Scouter Campfire Songs 


Grandma's In The Cellar


Grandma's in the cellar. Lordy can't you smell her
Cooking flapjacks on that dirty, greasy stove?
In her eye there is some matter,
That keeps falling in the batter,
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.
Out her nose, (repeat), out her nose (repeat)
In her eye there is some matter,
That keeps falling in the batter,
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.

Grandma's in the cellar. Lordy can't you smell her
Cooking crabs down on that dirty, greasy stove?
On her arms there are some scabs,
that keep falling in the crabs,
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.
Out her nose, (repeat) out her nose (repeat)
On her arms there are some scabs,
that keep falling in the crabs,
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.

Grandma's in the cellar. Lordy can't you smell her
Cooking rice down on that dirty, greasy stove?
In her hair there is some lice,
that keep jumping in the rice,
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.
Out her nose, (repeat) out her nose (repeat)
In her hair there is some lice,
that keep jumping in the rice,
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.

Grandma's in the cellar. Lordy can't you smell her
Cooking grits down on that dirty, greasy stove.
On her belly she's got zits,
that keep popping in the grits
and she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.
Out her nose, (repeat), Out her nose, (repeat)
On her belly she's got zits
That keep popping in the grits
And she whistles as the (sniff) drips out her nose.