Fairweather Friend

Board boy, board boy, rolling down the road
 Board boy, board boy, what have you been told?
 Do you wear your jeans of blue?
 Oh, that way is paved with gold
 Board boy, board boy, what have you been sold?
 Yes boy, no boy, you don't have to use your head
 It's alright, boy, you can use your feet instead
 You don't have to worry about the French emissary
 You don't have to dread
 Board boy, board boy, just listen to what I have said
 You can ask my poor old fair-weather friend
 If the hills are hard to find
 If the misty mountain tops of May
 That'll make us change their minds
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 Board boy, board boy, a-rolling down the road
 Board boy, board boy, what have you been told?
 You can smell the means by which your secret signs do unfold
 Board boy, board boy, rolling down the road