Clementine(Live)

歌詞

Spoken introduction: I should like to consider the folk song, and expound briefly on a theory I have held for some time, to the effect that the reason most folk songs are so atrocious is that they were written by the people. If professional songwriters had written them instead, things might have turned out considerably differently. For example, consider the old favorite, with which, I'm sure, you're all familiar, „Clementine", you know: In a cavern, in a canyon Dadada dadadada . . . ...a song with no recognizable merit whatsoever – and imagine what might have happened if, for example, Cole Porter had tried writing this song. The first verse might have come out like this: (Cole Porter Style) In a cavern . . . In a canyon . . . Excava-hay-hay-hehting for . . . A mine Far away from the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM . . . Of the city – She was so pretty What a pity – Clementine! Oh, Clementine . . . Can't you tell from the howls of me . . . This love of mine Calls to you from the bowels of me . . . Are, you, dis-CERning the reTURning of this CHURning BURning . . . YEARning for you . . . And – (spoken) Well, supposing at this point, that Mozart... or, one of that crowd... had tried writing a verse, the next one might've come out as a baritone-aria from an Italian opera - somewhat along these lines: Era legera e come un fairy {It was light and (she was) like a fairy} E suo shoes numero nine {And her shoes (were) number nine} Herring bo-ho-ho-hoxes sans-a to-ho-ho-hopses, {Herring bo-ho-ho-hoxes without to-ho-ho-hopses} Sandalae per Clementina si {Sandals for Clementine} Per Clementina si {For Clementine} Per Clementina sandalae {Sandals for Clementine} Per Clementina sandalae {Sandals for Clementine} Per Clementina! {For Clementine} Clementina, Clementina, Cleh-eh-eh-ehmentina . . . {Clementine x3} Herring boxes sans-a topses sandalae per Clementina {Herring boxes without topses, sandals for Clementine} Herring boxes sans-a topses sandalae per Clementina {Herring boxes without topses, sandals for Clementine} Che sciagura Clementina {What a disaster, Clementine} Che sciagura Clementina {What a disaster, Clementine} Cara Clementina {Beloved Clementine} Cara Clementina-na-na-na-na-na-na-na! {Beloved Clementine} (spoken) Supposing, at this rather dramatic juncture in the narrative, one ofour modern „cool school" of composers had tried writing a verse, thenext one might've come out... a-like this... (whispered) A-one, A-two, A-three! Drove those ducklings to the water, yprach! Doodilehdoodoot, yah-hah . . . Every mornin', like nine a.m., awhoopah Doodileh doo-doo, doodilidah Got a-hung upon a splinter Got a-hung upon a splinter, klooglimah! Hoo, hoot! Fell into the foamy brine – Dig that crazy Clementine, man! (spoken) To end on a happy note, one can always count on Gilbert and Sullivan for a rousig finale – full of words and music, and signifying... nothing! That I missed her depressed her Young sister named Esther This mister to pester the tried – Now a pestering sister's a festering blister You're best to resist her, say I! The mister resisted The sister persisted When I kissed her, all loyalty slipped When she said I could have her Her sister's cadaver Must surely have turned in its crypt! Yes, yes, yes, yes! But I love she, and she loves me And raptured are the both of we Yes, I love she and she loves I . . . And will through all eterni-ty! – See what I mean?