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Poop-A-Laylee was recorded in my daughter, Hayley’s, bedroom in Autumn 2011. I played ukulele, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, kazoo, mouth trumpet and bead shaker. I sang and harmonized, too.

Thanks to my nephew, Sasha, for recording and co- producing.

Thanks to the third grade giggle squad of Flood Brook Union School, Londonderry, Vermont and their music teacher, Mike Turk.

Thanks to my wife, Heather, for her vocals on Whose Shoes Will You Wear?

Thanks for photos by jeffwoodwardphotography.com

Poop A LayLee review

"Rock & Roll is dead, ...well at least on vacation. Jazz, Blues, Folk. Woogie Woogie – AWOL. The next genre is the loopy, loony and wildly engaging kids CD, coined "Poop-a-Laylee", from the children's book writer, Stephen Swinburne.

Steve – assisted by his ukulele – takes off the gloves and attacks the adult taboo subject of scat, poop, do do, poo, plops, stool – all those unmentionables that exist in the natural, animal world. The tunes are catchy and light, perfect for getting the attention of hyperactive kidos, teaching them a thing or two along the way about animal behavior, habitat and where critters "go."

Move over Ella Fitzgerald, Cab Calloway, Aretha Franklin, Mr. Swinburne is the new scat singer royalty."

Craig D.

Check out Steve's behind-the-scenes recording session of a demo song. Food In The Water is a poem from Ocean Soup - Tide Pool Poems.

Poop-a-laylee disc cover

Lyrics to Poop-A-Laylee

Everybody's Got To Go Sometime


Everybody’s got to go sometime,
That’s the way it’s always been.
You can do it with a grumpy look,
You can do it with a grin.

Once a tyrannosaurus stopped
And ate some Stegosaurus chops.
At the perfect place the T-Rex dropped,
A steaming pile of mega-plops!


I’m a tiny little flea,
I make a tiny little pee.
There are days I really want to whoop!
When I make a tiny poop.


Once an armadillo crossed the street
And found a perfect place to squat.
And when he left there was a pile of poop,
My, oh my, it was a lot.


Once a big old elephant,
Felt a rumble in his side.
He turned to heaven with a great big smile,
And spread those feces far and wide.


Once a little baby boy,
Ate a jar of spinach stew.
It wasn’t long before a smile broke out,
And a wave of spinach poo.



I Can't Go

I need to go
I need to go
I’m ready now; I’ve found a place, But I can’t go.

I want to go
I want to go
I’m settled now; I’ve got the time, But I can’t go.


I'm sitting on top of a mountain
I can see all the way to China,
Why can't I go?
I don't know.

I meant to go
I meant to go
It’s just no use, I’m giving up I can’t go!


I need to go
I need to go
I’m ready now; I’ve found a place, But I can’t go.

Things To Do With Poop

You spray poop, like hippos do
You roll the poop, like those beetles
You sniffing poop, like wolves do
You throw poop, like gorillas

Things to do with poop
Things to do with poop.


There’s so many things to do
There’s so many things to choose.
I best get out the way,
Just begin and you won’t lose.

You cool off with poop, like storks do,
You shield yourself like those beetles.
You defend yourself with poop, like garter snakes
You find mates with poop, like peccaries.

Things to do with poop
Things to do with poop.


You make nests with poop, like African ovenbirds
You mark your turf with poop, like tigers
You eat poop like rabbits do
You step in poop like those people.

I Gotta' Go

I’m the greatest hunter,
A mighty carnivore.
I have the tools to prove it.
Canines, claws ‘n more.

The zebra I’ve just gobbled,
Was really quite de--lish’
I can’t believe I ate it all—
Oh what a five-star dish.

I’ve picked at all the bones,
I’ve chewed on all the meat.
I’ve even sucked the eyeballs,
And nibbled on the feet.

I’m bloated as a beach ball,
One more bite, I think I’ll blow.
Something wants to happen,
When you gotta go, you gotta go.

I’m the greatest hunter,
A mighty carnivore.
I have the tools to prove it.
Canines, claws ‘n more.

O'de Fragrance De Poop

Something’s wafting in the air
Something fine, something rare.
Could a goat, horse, pig or cow?
Leave behind what I smell now?

It’s a whiff, it’s a stink,
Knees buckle, eyes blink.
An odor, aroma, reek, or stench,
How do you say that scent in French?

What perfume fills the air today?
What is that excellent bouquet?
Hold your nose! I’ve got the scoop!
It’s O’de Fragrance de Poop.

Whose Shoes Will You Wear?

I wake up in the morning, Got someplace to go.
I’m looking for my shoes, I really want to know...


Whose shoes (will you wear, will you wear, will you wear)?
Whose shoes (will you wear, will you wear, will you wear)?
Whose shoes will you wear when you do the work that you do?

Could it be a teacher, standing all the day?
Could it be a farmer, piling up the hay?
What about a rock star, rocking out the beat?
What about a short stop, twirling on his cleat?


Maybe you’re a singer, dancer, lawyer, captain, chef.
Maybe you’re a writer, soldier, doctor, dentist, nurse.
Maybe you’re a banker, bowler, baker, billionaire.
Maybe you’re a pilot, flying people in the air!
Maybe you drive NASCAR, zipping in fast cars.
Maybe you’re an astronomer, counting all the stars!



The Goodnight Song

Close those sleepy eyes,
And rest your weary head.
Gentle comes the night,
Silver stars burn bright.

Dream of kings and queens,
On fairies’ flying wings.
Endless summer days,
Adventures far and wide.


Maybe there’s a rainstorm,
But rainstorms will end.

Take the time you need,
Morning light is kind.
When you wake you’ll find,
I’ll be by your side.

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