Hip Hiawatha

[native Americanlike drum beats]

Long ago in the land of the Ilaboo
[scat singing]
Before the ofay cats got there
All the Indian studs was scuffling with each other
The Delawares was stompin’ on the Mohawks
The Choctaws and Camanches was splittin’ hairs
And Shoshonies and Blackfeet was splittin’ wigs
And Pawnees were wailing with arrows against the Omahas
And the Mandans and the Dacotahs and Hurons and the Ojibways were flippin’ and squaring up all over the place

Now, the Indian guard, the head guard Gitche Manito was laying (?) up on this pink cloud, laying flat on his back, with his legs crossed and one foot doodlin’. And he’s saying to himself,

“Man, it gets crazy up here all the time on this pink cloud. It sure is groovy. And pretty soon he ?? all that bad jazz a’comin’ down there and he turned his head around and said, “Well, I – look at that, just look at that. What’s a matter with them cats anyway?”

He say, “Ain’t that a drag? What is this going on here?”

So, he picked up some tobacco and put it in his pipe and blew the biggest smoke signal in the history of Western Union. It was so big that all the wall painters in Ilaboo dug it and gathered in a big meadow. They knew Gitche Manito was going to put something down. One cat said,

“What – what he say?”

He say, “Well, keep cool, man, I read the sig – what the signals say.”

“Gitche Manito done say: at the number nine moon he gonna put the straightner on all us cats.”

And come the number nine moon, here come Gitche Manito. Whoa, and he’s swingin’ up on his big, wide pink cloud. And he look at all these cats and all these Indian studs and kitties around waiting for Gitche Manito to blow. And Gitche Manito say,

“Now, lookahere!”

They say, “Yes, Gtichee!”

He say, “You dig me?”

They say, “Solid, Gitchee !”

He say, “You wit me?”

They say, “All the way, Gitchee ! Put it down and we’ll pick it up.”

He say, “Now, lookahere, I’ve given you lots of space to romp in.”

They say, “That’s true, Gitchee.”

He say, “I’ve given you plenty of scarf to hunt.”

They say, “That’s solid, Gitchee.”

“Why do you cats insist on hunting each other? Your scuffling is dragging me. Therefore,”, he said, “I’m sending down a cat to straighten you all. He’ll teach you to blow any horn that you got eyes to blow. So, dig him hard. Boom bam, boom bam, boom bam, diddley oh bam.”

And Gitche Manito done laid it on them. He said, “Now, I want you to remember this: The cat’s name that’s goin’ straighten you is Hip Hiawatha. Dig him when he comes. ‘Cause peace in our time.”