He's the grand old man of broadcasting
And a writer of history
And his name is Louis Terkel
But he's Studs to you and me.
He's Studs to you and me.
And everymore shall be
And for bonnie Mister Terkel
A fine old melody.
He's a union man and progressive
Until his dying day.
He always wears red stockings
And his hair has gone away.
His hair has gone away.
And everymore shall be.
But for bonnie Mr. Terkel
A fine old melody.
He is well known in Chicago
In the cafes and the bars
And he's lived for 90 years now
On martinis and cigars.
Martinis and cigars
And evermore shall be.
And for bonnie Mr. Terkel
A fine old melody.
He is somewhat hard of hearing
Which keeps a fellow young.
Cause you do not know it's over
When the fat lady has sung.
When the fat lady has sung
And warbled her high C
And for bonnie Mister Terkel
A fine old melody.
When you turn 90, my darling,
And you comb your silver hairs
I hope you're like Studs Terkel
And the lights are on upstairs.
The lights are on upstairs
And evermore shall be
And for bonnie Mister Terkel
A fine old melody.
© Garrison Keillor 2002