Tom Lehrer - Clementine lyrics

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 (Spoken) ...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: (Mozart Style) Era legera e come un fairy E suo shoes numero nine Herring bo-ho-ho-hoxes senza to-ho-ho-hopses Sandalae per Clementina si Per Clementina si Per Clementina sandalae Per Clementina sandalae Per Clementina! Clementina, Clementina, Cleh-eh-eh-ehmentina Herring boxes senza topses sandalae per Clementina Herring boxes senza topses sandalae per Clementina Che sciagura Clementina Che sciagura Clementina Cara Clementina Cara Clementina-na-na-na-na-na-na-na! (Spoken) Supposing, at this rather dramatic juncture in the narrative, one of our modern "cool school" of composers had tried writing a verse, the next one might've come out... a-like this... (Beatnik Style) (whispered) A-one, A-two, A-three! Drove those ducklings to the water, yeprach! Doodilehdoodoot, yah-hah Every mornin', like nine a.m., awhoopah Doodileh doo-doo, beedly-da Got a-hung upon a splinter Got a-hung upon a splinter, kloo ge mop! Hoo, hoot! Fell into the foamy brine – Dig that crazy Clementine, man! (Spoken) To end on a happy note, one can always counton Gilbert and Sullivan for a rousing finale – full of words and music, and signifying... nothing! (G&S Finale) That I missed her, depressed, her Young sister named Esther This mister to pester she'd try – Now her pestering sister's a festering blister You're best to resist her, say I! The mister resisted The sister persisted 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?