(D. Cooper)

Summer is coming, catfish are jumping,

The willows are weeping up the river,

Mandaddy's wagon comes rattling and dragging

His magical route.

He's bringing ghost stories and bright penny-whistles,

White Chinese muzzles 'n tins of glory.

Look on the horizon and see the dust rolling down the road.

Chorus: Well, my name is Mandaddy and I roam these hills.

I sing and I whistle and I'll cure your ills.

Oh Mandaddy, oh Mandaddy's gonna cure your ills,

Mandaddy's gonna cure your ills.

He walks like a farmer, talks like warm water,

Smells like tobacco and gun powder.

He's bringing red garters and bright copper kettles

And brown leather shoes.

He says,