[INTRODUCTION] You know, all the great folk occupations have their heroes. Your railroad men had Casey Jones and John Henry, your lumberjacks had Paul Bunyan and his blue ox babe, right on down the line And if you will remember, not too long ago here, your coal miners had Big Bad John. But what about your less dangerous occupations? What about people like, well, like your teabag testers and your certified public accountants Just because a man doesnt work at a dangerous backbreaking occupation theres no reason he should be slighted by the folk art, so Im going to sing you a little song about a fella whose name was Sidney He was a hairdresser, and in his own way he was just as courageous, just as heroic, as Big Bad John [BEGINNING] Every morning at the salon you can see him arrive Five foot six, weighing 105 Narrow at the shoulders and broad at the hips With a delicate smile on his painted lips Sweet Sidney Nobody knew where Sid called home Had a place on Fire Island where he lived alone A likeable fellow, though kind of quiet and shy And if he spoke at all, he just said Hi, sweetie! Some say he came from New Orleans Where he headed a social club called the Cajun Queens Though to tell you the truth, it was Beverly Hills Where he got into trouble, passing three dollar bills Naughty Sidney! Desperate little outlaw! One day at the beauty shop There was a dreadful fire They had a short circuit in 4 dryer And amidst the screams of those frantic dames In swished Sidney to fan the flames! Sweet Sid... He got them all out as the fire got worse But someone heard him gasp, Ive forgotten my purse! He rushed back in with a fitful shout And all was quiet and he never came out Poor Sidney Brave, valiant, heroic Sidney! Precious little firefighter That beauty salon is now a parking lot But the legend of our hero will not be forgot For deep in the hearts of coiffured dames Will be the memory of Sidney going down... In flames
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