A Windmill In Old Amsterdam

(originally posted on Thursday, September 07, 2006)
A Windmill In Old Amsterdam
A mouse lived in a windmill in old Amsterdam
A windmill with a mouse in and he wasn't grousin'
He sang every morning, "How lucky I am,
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"

Chorus:
I saw a mouse!
Where?
There on the stair!
Where on the stair?
Right there!
A little mouse with clogs on
Well I declare!
Going clip-clippety-clop on the stair
Oh yeah

This mouse he got lonesome,
he took him a wife
A windmill with mice in,
it's hardly surprisin'
She sang every morning, "How lucky I am,
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"

Chorus

First they had triplets and then they had quins
A windmill with quins in, and triplets and twins in
They sang every morning, "How lucky we are
Living in a windmill in Amsterdam, ya!"

Chorus

The daughters got married and so did the sons
The windmill had christ'nin's when no one was list'nin'
They all sang in chorus, "How lucky I am
Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam!"

Chorus

A mouse lived in a windmill, so snug and so nice
There's nobody there now but a whole lot of mice.

this was taken from poppyfields.net

don't rain on my parade

At the end of the Baltimore run, Fanny's train is leaving to go on to to Chicago,
while Nick must catch the train for New York and then head to Europe. Nick tells
Fanny he loves her and she suggests he marry her, but he wants to have a fortune
before he does. On the spur of the moment, Fanny decides to leave the tour and
follow Nick to New York. Eddie who has arrived to visit tries to talk her out
of it. Ziegfeld tries as well, but Fanny is intent on following Nick; she has success in show business and now she wants a personal life as well.
Eddie tries to advise her one more time, "Don't", and she replies:

Don't tell me not to live,
Just sit and putter,
Life's candy and the sun's
A ball of butter.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade.

Don't tell me not to fly--
I've simply got to.
If someone takes a spill,
It's me and not you.
Who told you you're allowed
To rain on my parade!

I'll march my band out,
I'll beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir.
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it!

But whether I'm the rose
Of sheer perfection,
Or freckle on the nose
Of life's complexion,
The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye,
I gotta fly once,

I gotta try once,
Only can die once,
right, sir?
Ooh, love is juicy,
Juicy, and you see
I gotta have my bite, sir!

Get ready for me, love,'
Cause I'm a "comer,"
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade!

I'm gonna live and live now,
Get what I want--
I know how,
One roll for the whole shebang,
One throw, that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target--and wham--

One shot, one gun shot, and bam--
Hey, Mister Arnstein, here I am!
I'll march my band out,
I will beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir,

At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it.
Get ready for me, love,
'Cause I'm a "comer,"
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.

Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade!

taken from stlyrics.com