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Hey well all right sir, open the gate |
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Let'em out and walk'em boys |
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Here we come with lot number twenty-nine |
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What are you gonna give for the little fella |
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Well there was a boy from arkansas who wouldn't listen to his ma |
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When she told him that he should go to school |
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He'd sneak away in the afternoon and take a walk and pretty soon |
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You'd find him at the local auction barn |
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He'd stand and listen carefully until at last he began to see |
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How the auctioneer could talk so rapidly |
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He said 'oh my, it's do or die, i've got to learn that auction cry |
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Gonna make my mark and be an auctioneer' |
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Well the time went by and he did his best and all could see he did not jest |
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He practiced calling bids both night and day |
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Til his pappy found him behind the barn just working up an awful storm |
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As he tried to imitate the auctioneer |
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His pop said 'son we just can't stand to have a mediocre man |
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Selling things at auction using our good name |
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Gonna send you off to auction school and then you'll be nobody's fool |
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And you can take your place among the best' |
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And from that boy that went to school there grew a man who played it cool |
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He come back home a full fledged auctioneer |
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And the people would come from miles around |
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Just to hear him make that rhythmic sound |
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That filled their hearts with such a happy cheer |
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And his fame spread out from shore to shore |
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He'd all that he could do and more |
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He had to buy a plane to get around |
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Now he's the best in all the land, let's pause and give that man a hand |
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For he's the best of all the auctioneers |
