Young Love and Manana Joe

The Bakers of Weber's Bread present your all-star Western theater. Twifting on a song. From Hollywood comes your all-star Western theater, starring America's great Western singers, Foy willing and the writers of the Purple Sage, bringing you music, the stories, and the spirit of the great open spaces. And now, the writers of the Purple Sage.

Along with the home men that bloom out in door, still I hear the apple from the hills, And their sweet little bell, my little hillbilly gal, Calling in the ankle from the hill. Well, let my papi sit and I don't do nothing wrong.

I recall my mammy saying, sonny, don't be wrong. So I know that someday I'll be winning my way, Like among the ankle from the hill. Sometimes I wonder why I have to roam. Somehow my thoughts are traveling way back home.

I miss the hills, the old folks, and my little sister Lou I wonder if they miss me too I'm a long-waked home and that blue mountain door Still I hear the echoes from the hills And the sweet lily bell, my little hillbilly gal Calling in the echoes from the hills Well, if my pappy said no, don't do nothing wrong

I recall my mammy saying, son, it'll be long So I know that someday I'll be went in my way way back among the echoes from the heave. The fashion these days is the snare at anything that sentimental to laugh at any expression that might indicate a tender heart. Well we westerners we don't go along with such a fashion and we know that many of you are with

us too. So we'll continue to find more sentimental ballads in our music than marching songs. Here's one right now and we'd like to sing it for you. We hope you like it. Remember me. The sweetest song below lovers in the glow in The sweetest days are the days that used to be The saddest words I ever heard were words of party