Story Behind The Song
My oldest daughter is convinced that this song is not about little tiny mythological creatures, but that it's about how my children did their best to drive me insane, when they were growing up.
Song Description
It's the little, tiny, invisible pixies that tend to mess up our daily routines.
| Song Length |
2:17 |
Genre |
Folk - Rural, Blues - Delta |
| Tempo |
Medium Fast (131 - 150) |
Lead Vocal |
Male Vocal |
| Mood |
Cheerful, Disturbed |
Subject |
Other |
| Language |
English |
Era |
1930 - 1939 |
Lyrics
My shoes and sox don't match no more, my wallet's out of cash. I found my car keys on the floor, under a pile of trash. My cat, he jumps at nothin' and he hides beneath the couch. His lack of sleep's been worryin' me and lately he's a grouch.
(chorus)
And I can hear them gigling in the corners where they hide. I find their tiny footprints in the potted plants outside. And when they start to sing it sounds like airplanes on the roof. And I can't get to sleepin' when they're doing the pixie glide.
I hear fiddles in the night and bodhran drumming in my brain. They drink up all my liquor and they plug up all my drains. My favorite shirt's been missing now for six weeks more or less. Where they've hidden all my guitar picks, I can only guess.
(chorus)
The change is always missing from the dresser by my bed. I tally it each eavening, before I lay my head. In the morning when I count again, I'm a couple quarters shy. There's pixies in my bedroom and they think they're bein' sly.
(chorus)