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 fairweather friend If the hills are hard to find If the misty mountain tops of may That’ll make us change their minds. Board boy, board boy, 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.