The Official Jewish Songbook

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A Numb Winter Coldness

(T.T.T.O. Achas Shoalti—Pirchei II)

A numb winter coldness

Pierced through the walls

Of a hut on the edge of the town.

A woman lay dying,

She’d already stopped trying

To soothe the child she had born.
The Alter Rebbe

Feeling the pain

Alone, he went to her aid.
Chopped wood for the fire,

Warmed milk for the babe,

While Ne’ilah was prayed.
Going out of his way,

The Rebbe did portray

The importance of Tzedokah B’guf.


Tzedokah, Tzedokah, Tzedokah,

That is what we give -

To poor people,

To help them live.

So they’ll have food and clothes,

So they’ll have food and clothes,

Even a penny a day -

Before we start to pray!

Shabbos and Neshek

Mr. Fix

(T.T.T.O. Tzur mi shelo achalnu)

I do all kinds of work; my name is Mr. Fix,

But Shabbos day, I don’t; I work the other six.

I shlep, I build, I paint, a whole week I don’t sit -

But Shabbos day, I won’t; that’s the day I quit!
I will not dig a hole, pour water on a plant,

I will not mow the lawn, the Torah says I can’t.

I will not milk a cow; I don’t even know how

To grind the grains of wheat the Torah won’t allow.


‘Cause Shabbos I don’t do melacha.

Like it says in the halacha

That is why I have hatzlacha

In all the weekday work I do.
There are thirty-nine melachas

I will do for your mishpacha,

Except on Shabbos. What a bracha

When my work is through.

If you want bread or cake,

There’s something you should know.

On Shabbos, I don’t bake -

I do not knead the dough.

I will not cut your hair,

Your bangs I will not clip.

I really do not care

If I don’t get a tip.

I will not wash your shirt,

I will not clean your socks,

I will not paint your walls,

I won’t wind your clock.

I won’t sew your pants

Even if they tear.

Don’t tell me it’s not fair -

Go wear another pair!

I won’t tear open mail

That comes into my house.

I will not kill a bug,

Or catch a little mouse.

I cannot write your name,

Or draw your funny face.

And pictures that I’ve drawn,

I cannot erase.

I will not tie in knots,

The laces on my feet.

I won’t cut up a board -

Or a paper sheet.

I will not build your house

Anywhere in town.

A building you don’t want,

I won’t knock it down.

I will not fix a chair

With broken legs or feet.

I’m sorry if you must

Find another seat.

I will not light a fire,

On Shabbos I refrain.

And I won’t put it out -

Instead I’ll wait for rain.

I would never go

On Shabbos for a ride.

And I would surely never

Carry things outside.

I left out some melachos

But please let me stress,

That I will not do any

Ff the Lamid tes!


There’s a Shabbosdike maachel for all the Yiddin - cholent,

Eaten by all Jews with Seichel even when it is Farbrent!

First take fourteen gallon pot, 90 potatoes that’s a lot -

Ten bags of beans off the shelf, make sure that you don’t fall in yourself.

Twenty-two pounds of bones and meat, pour in some ketchup, make it sweet.

Then throw in anything of which you think, anything but the kitchen sink.

On the blech you let it simmer until it bubbles - boiling hot,

Eating cholent won’t make you slimmer, I can assure you - it will not!

Be extra careful once you start, you’ll have more feeling in your heart.

Cholent will do wonders for your soul; make sure you don’t eat more than one bowl.

Cholent is a food that’s so Geshmak, some say it goes down like a rock.

Eating it gives us much to gain, all week the memories of cholent do remain.

When on Shabbos You Go Out

When on Shabbos you go out,

Do not carry things about.

Get those bulging pockets clear

Of the things you hold so dear.

Marbles, jacks and yo-yo strings

And a million other things.

Don’t take them to Shul with you -

Be a perfect Shabbos Jew!


I’m Popeye the Sailor Mentch

After I eat I bentch.

Friday night I make kiddish,

Because I am yiddish.

I’m Popey the Sailor Mentch.

When Zaidy was Young

When Zaidy was young, he would take a ride

To visit his Bubby on the East Side.

Each Friday morning, he traveled by trolley

To bring back some of his Bubbe’s fresh challey.


She said, “Eat my challos; es is gut far alles -

You’ll feel so good if you just eat my challos.

If you’ll eat mein challos far ein hundret yor

You will live very long, dos is for sure!”
When Zaidy grew up and was ready to marry,

He thought of those challos that he used to carry.

He said, “I will only take for a kalla -

A girl who, like Bubbe, knows how to bake challahh!

It’s many years later there’s no more trolley,

But Zaidy still brings Bubbe’s freshly baked challey.

Each Erev Shabbos he takes great pride,

And brings us those warm challos from the East Side


And he says, “Es mein challos, please eat my challos,

Then when your finished, just sing Shir Hamaalos

If I bring you challos far ein hundert yor,

We will both live long, and that’s for sure!”
Then after shul, he’d take off his tallis,

First he’d say kiddush, then slice the challos.

We each ate five pieces, and when we were done,

He told us these challos are just like the mon.


The mon had a cover, just like these challos,

And it was white like a new Shabbos tallis.

The Yiddin ate mon for just fertzik yor,

But we’ll eat our challos a hundred or more.

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