Title: Ode to the Outhouse
Verse 1
Down behind the chicken coop where the tall grass sways,
Stands a little wooden palace from my granddad’s days.
Crooked moon cut in the door, hinges squeak just right,
That’s where country boys go wanderin’ in the middle of the night.
Frost on the seat in January’s breeze—
Makes a feller sing high harmonies!
Yo-de-lay-ee-oo, yo-de-lay-ee-ay!
Chorus
Oh the old outhouse sings in the pale moonlight,
Banjo in the crickets, stars burnin’ bright.
You sit down quick and holler out loud,
Yodel-ay-ee-oo to the midnight cloud!
Yo-de-lay-ee-oo! Yo-de-lay-ee-ay!
Echo off the pasture and the stacks of hay.
If relief had a hymn it would surely be—
Yo-de-lay-hee-hoo from the old privy!
Verse 2
There’s a rusty nail holdin’ up the Sears catalog,
Pages full of tractors and a three-legged dog.
Summer brings the flies hummin’ harmony lines,
Buzzin’ like a fiddle in the tall pine vines.
When the breeze comes driftin’ through the cedar trees,
You might hear a lonesome melody:
Yodel-ay-ee-oo, yo-de-lay-hee-hoo!
Chorus
Oh the old outhouse sings in the pale moonlight,
Banjo in the crickets, stars burnin’ bright.
You sit down quick and holler out loud,
Yodel-ay-ee-oo to the midnight cloud!
Yo-de-lay-ee-oo! Yo-de-lay-ee-ay!
Echo off the pasture and the stacks of hay.
If relief had a hymn it would surely be—
Yo-de-lay-hee-hoo from the old privy!
Verse 3
Grandma said, “Boy don’t slam that door!”
But the wind made it bang like a two-by-four.
Snow piled high on a February dawn,
I waddled out there in my long johns on.
Seat so cold it made me shout with glee—
Yodel-ay-ee-oo up a maple tree!
Yo-de-lay-ee-ay! Yo-de-lay-ee-oo!
Bridge
Now some folks brag ‘bout indoor plumbing pipes,
Marble floors and porcelain types—
But they never heard the hillside ring
When a mountain boy begins to sing:
Yo-de-lay-ee-oo!
Yo-de-lay-ee-ay!
Yo-de-lay-hee-hoo, let the echoes play!
Yo-de-lay-ee-oo!
Yo-de-lay-ee-ay!
Best acoustics in the county, I say!
Final Chorus
Oh the old outhouse sings in the pale moonlight,
Banjo in the crickets, stars burnin’ bright.
From the pasture fence to the sycamore tree,
Yodel-ay-ee-oo goes the melody!
Yo-de-lay-ee-oo! Yo-de-lay-ee-ay!
Carryin’ joy across the fields of hay.
Call it humble, call it country pride—
Yo-de-lay-hee-hoo from the little shack outside!
Outro
So if you wander past the barn someday,
And hear a lonely tune driftin’ your way—
That ain’t no owl in the hickory tree…
It’s a feller goin’ yodel-ay-ee-oo…
yo-de-lay-ee-ay…
yo-de-lay-hee-hooooo
—————
Copyright©2026 Dan Campbell
All rights reserved. This song and its lyrics are protected by copyright and may not be used without permission. If you’d like to share or reuse it, please contact me first — I love hearing from listeners!
Essays, Art and Plays by Dan 
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