30,000 Pounds of Bananas (Live)

[Intro]
Okay, now there's only one other last requirement, and that is we'd like to get the uh, the LA Memorial Choir in on this one. Are you guys—I guess you're game, you've been game all night. Okay, now.

It's a, it's a low part, but it builds up. Last, last statement it that this song starts off with an absolutely brilliant Chet Atkins guitar lick that it took me about four hours to steal, and I, we should appreciate it when it comes by.

[Verse 1]
It was just after dark when the truck started down
The hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania

[Refrain]
Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas
Carrying thirty thousand pounds
Hit it big John
Said, of bananas

[Verse 2]
He was a young driver, just out on his second job
And he was carrying thе next day's pasty fruits
For everyonе in that coal-scarred city
Where children play without despair
In backyard slag piles and folks manage to eat each day

[Refrain]
Just about thirty thousand pounds of bananas
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds
Scream it again, John
Of bananas

[Verse 3]
He passed a sign that he should have seen
Saying "Shift to low gear or fifty dollar fine my friend" (My friend)
He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breath woman
Who was waiting at the journey's end
He started down the two-mile drop
The curving road that wound from the top of the hill
He was pushing on through the shortening miles
That ran down to the depot
Just a few more miles to go
Then he'd go home and have her ease that long, cramped day away

[Refrain]
And the smell of thirty thousand pounds
Let's hear you
Of bananas
Yes, the smell of thirty thousand pounds
Really loud now
Of bananas
This song builds up in intensity and excitement

[Verse 4]
He was picking up speed as the city spread
Its twinkling lights below him
But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts
Of the night's delights went through him
His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down
But the pedal floored easy without a sound
He said, "Christ!" (Christ!)
It was funny how he had named the only man
Who could save him now
He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide
Riding on his fear-hunched back
Was every one of those yellow green

[Refrain]
I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds
Scream it now
Of bananas
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds
Even louder
Of bananas

[Verse 5]
He barely made the sweeping curve
That led into the steepest grade
And he missed the thankful passing bus
At ninety miles an hour
And he said, "God, make it a dream"
As he rode his last tread down
He said, "God, make it a dream"
As he rode his last tread down
And he sideswiped nineteen neat-parked cars
Clipped off thirteen telephone poles
Hit two houses, bruised eight trees
And Blue Crossed seven people
It was then he lost his head
Not to mention an arm or two before he stopped
Stopped
And he smeared for four hundred yards
Along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania

[Refrain]
All those thirty thousand pounds
You guessed it
Of bananas
Thank God you're here

[Spoken Interlude]
Now, some of you may think that it would be easy to write a song like this. But it isn't. See, most great works of art have a theme that holds them together. This song doesn't. As a matter of fact, I had a great deal of trouble ending it. As a matter of fact, the first ending was like this.

[Verse 6]
Yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today
And if that wasn't enough
Yes, we have no bananas
Bananas in Scranton, P.A.

[Spoken Interlude]
Now I was very proud of that ending. And with much anticipation I sang it, sang it for the guys in the group and my brothers. And their reaction was best summed up by my brother Tom, who said:

"Harry, it sucks."

Well, I was devastated. But I went back to my lonely writer's garret and decided I would try again and come up with a new ending. Since it was a country and western song, maybe I could write a country, country ending. Something about motherhood this time 'cause the song already had a truck. Something with weeping steel guitars, wailing fiddles, and an incredible banjo part. And something with harmony sung by, you guessed it, the LA Memorial Choir (Ooh). You'll see your part when it comes by.

[Verse 7]
A woman walks into her room
Where her child lies sleeping (Sleeping)
And when she sees his eyes are closed
She sits there silently weeping (Weeping)
I see gay liberation has hit LA
And though she lives in Scranton, Pennsylvania ('Vania)
Three thousand munchkins and a troll

[Refrain]
She never ever eats
Bananas
Not one of thirty thousand pounds
Harmony now
Of bananas
Sounds like the Mormon Tubercular Choir out there

[Spoken Interlude]
Well, the sad truth is, no matter how loudly and how loverly, if that's a word (How luh-buh-luh-buh-luh), you say "Of bananas," it doesn't alter in the least the fact that when I sang that ending for my brothers and the guys in the group, their reaction was best summed up by my brother Steve, who said:

"No, no, Harry, you gotta be kidding me."
"What?"
"You really expect that to end this song? I mean, it's nice, Harry. I mean, the words are potentially harmless. The music is a lot, is, is pleasant. But uh, I think Tom's definitely right. It sucks."

I was broken-hearted. And once more I went back to my, my writer's room, and decided finally that honesty was the best policy. And I would end the song the way I found out about it in the first place. And that was coming on a Greyhound bus through Scranton, Pennsylvania, 1965. Like this:

[Verse 8]
You see the man that told me about it on the bus
As it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania
You know he shrugged his head
He shrugged his shoulders, and said
And this is exactly what he said (Shrugged his head and shoulders)
He said, "Boy, boy, it sure must've been something
Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas"

[Refrain]
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas
Of bananas, of bananas
Thirty thousand pounds of bananas
Not no driver now, all bananas, just bananas