Dr. Ironbeard (and another doltish ditty)

Doctor Ironbeard

words and music: German folksong

I am Doctor Ironbeard….

People think I’m really smart

Twilly willy witt boom boom

I cure your ills with healing art

Twilly willy wit boom boom

Oh I can make the blind man walk

Twiilly willy wit boom boom

The deaf to see, the dumb to walk

Twilly willy wit boom boom

chorus:

Sing for ee eh! sing for ee eh!

Swing twilly willy with boom! boom! boom! boom!

Sing for ee eh! sing for ee eh!

Sing twilly willy wit boom! boom!

There was a man from London Town

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

Who had no wits beneath his crown

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

He asked me to improve his head

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

I used an axe, and now he’s dead

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

chorus

To sleep the patient tried in vain

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

For in his neck he felt great pain

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

I tied a noose and pulled it tight

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

And now he sleeps both day and night

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

chorus

Good friend, now you can clearly see

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

How quick and cheap each remedy

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

For if you come in with your pain

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

You’ll never need return again

Twilly willy wit boom! boom!

chorus

guitar and vocals:  T.S. Taylor

note:

This is the last song in our series “Sweet, Short, and Stupid,” so it’s now official; our national nightmare is over.

“Doctor Ironbeard” has taken up residence inside a tiny space in the back of my brain-pan ever since I first learned it in 3rd grade. Over the years, the very rare times the song managed, (for whatever reason), to leap to the forefront of my childhood memories, I could only ever recall one verse; the full chorus, however, has never eluded me. The unique wackiness of it’s refrain, which includes the line “twilly willy wit boom! boom!,” obviously makes the chorus hard to forget.

Before I began trying to find information on the Internet about any of the Loony Tunes in this series, I wasn’t that confidant that anything substantial would turn up; I figured this stuff was probably obscure enough to be have been buried long ago in the landfill of history. But oh contrair! Never underestimate the power of the Internet, my friends. Granted, since most of this stuff is as old as Mick Jaggers’ great great great great grandfather, there isn’t exactly a warehouse of historical material with which to work; still, there was at least some. The only song in the collection whose origin remains a complete mystery, is our “ode to the spotless commode” called “Kibo Kids” which also has the ‘dis-stink’ honor of being the shortest song among the four. My guess is that both the mystery of it’s origin and it’s brevity can be attributed to my Dad, who was most likely the one who made it up.

Essentially a drinking song from Germany about a dangerous quack, Doctor Ironbeard is based on a real German doctor and a native of Oberviechtach, Bavaria who went by the name of Johann Andreas Eisenbarth (1663-1727). Eisenbarth was an occultist, barber-surgeon, and “traveling surgeon” who had no formal medical credentials, but who performed various surgeries, among them being the treatment of cataracts, calculus surgery, and the treatment of bone fractures. Nevertheless, Eisenbarth was considered a skilled surgeon and was bestowed with privileges by members of German royalty. Eisenbarth often traveled with a large entourage of people made up of entertainers, harlequins, and musicians who performed in a carnival-like atmosphere while the good doctor plied his trade. The loud music helped to drown out the shrieks of pain from his patients. Eisenbarth also designed his own medical instruments and sold impressive amounts of homemade remedies.

Around 1800, a student drinking song called “Ich bin der Doctor Eisenbarth” (My name is Doctor Eisenbarth), became very popular in Germany. Unfortunately, it unfairly mocked the doctor.

While I was recording the vocal on this song I couldn’t help but turn my thoughts to the various “snake oil salesmen” who, back in the day, populated the religious landscape, especially the world of religious television. Their false “name it and claim it” heresies and cringeworthy spectacles of supposed miraculous healings and hyperbolic testimonies, inevitably turned out to be fraudulent. The “name it and claim it” prosperity doctrine was often derided as the “blab it and grab it” doctrine by those who considered it to be a scam and a heresy.

I believe the Daniel Amos song “I Didn’t Build It For Me” may have been the first to song to mock this false and dangerous dogma by recording a song about one such infamous “Doctor Ironbeard" who, back in the day, managed to snooker millions of dollars out of his followers, primarily the elderly and the poor who made up a large portion of his congregation and his television audience. The promise of health, wealth, and prosperity was the carrot on a stick dangled in front of millions of poor gullible souls “led” to support this charlatan’s so-called “ministry” with contributions they often could ill afford. Of course this “ministry” included such pastoral necessities as this false teacher’s multimillion dollar estate, his yachts, his lear jet, and his foreign missionary trips to Hawaii and the Bahamas. It continues to sadden me that things haven’t changed very much since the heyday of these religious scam artists. Go on Youtube, search “religious charlatans,” and you’ll see what I mean. BTW, if the clip of Kenneth Copeland “binding” the Covid virus a few years back doesn’t conjure up in you thoughts of a possessed Linda Blair cursing the priest in “The Exorcist,” I’ll legally change my name to “Terry Willy Wit Boom! Boom!”