Wildwood weed seed song
Jim Stafford, who may well be the Elvis Presley of redneck comedy, conceived this thinly veiled counter-culture nugget about a man who stumbles upon a special weed. He and his brother, the story goes, discover that they can use this weed to “take a trip without leaving the farm.” Upon learning of the their find, however, a Federal agent descends upon their land and decimates their crop. But the narrator and his brother are a step ahead. They bid the G-man a fond adieu, while perched on a bumper crop’s worth of seeds. Les Claypool has recited “Wildwood Weed” with various projects, from Primus to Caca (see 1992’s First Caca Show). And so, as the Elvis Presley of his own demented musical universe, it was only fitting that he chose to recite it during the theatrical “Harpua” encore at The Aladdin in Las Vegas on 12/6/96. As performed by Claypool, “Wildwood Weed” is more a rap than a song, and as such is never quite delivered the same way twice. Fans lucky enough to experience the “unadulterated audio sodomy” of Oysterhead at New Orleans’ Saenger Theatre on 5/4/00 or at the Roseland on 11/13/01 could hear Les recite “Wildwood Weed” atop the power trio’s jackhammer grooves.
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The wildwood flower grew wild on the farm
And we never knowed what it was called
Some said it was a flower and some said it was a weed
I never gave it much thought
One day I was out there talking to my brother
And I reached down for a weed to chew on
Things got fuzzy and things got blurry
And then everything was gone
Didn’t know what happened
But I knew it beat the hell out of sniffin’ burlap
I come to and my brother was there
And he said, What’s wrong with your eyes?
I said, I don’t know, I was chewing on a weed
And he said, Let me give it a try
We spent the rest of that day and most of that night
Trying to find my brother, Bill
Caught up with him, ’bout six o’clock the next morning
Naked, swinging on the windmill
He said he flew up there
I had to fly up and get him down, he was about half crazy
The very next day we picked a bunch of them weeds
And we put ’em in the sun to dry
Then we mashed ’em up and we cleaned them up
And put ’em in the corncob pipe
Smokin’ that wildwood flower got to be a habit
We never sees no harm
We thought it was kind of handy
Take a trip and never leave the farm
They go puff that Wildwood Weed, next thing you know
You just wanderin’ around behind the little animals
All good things gotta come to an end
And it’s the same with the wildwood weeds
One day this feller from Washington came by
And he spied it and turned white as a sheet
Then they dug and they burned
And they burned and they dug
And they killed all our cute little weeds
Then they drove away
We just smiled and waved
Sittin’ there on that sack of seeds