Pinwheel of Death

Arnold Weinstein


SONGS

Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Classical

Recorded 2009

Lyrics IT WASN'T THE POLICEMAN'S FAULT
IN ALL THE TRAFFIC ROAR,
INSTEAD OF SHOUTING HALT
WHEN HE SAW ME HE SHOUTED,
AMOR, AMOR, AMOR,
AMOR.
EVEN THE ICE CREAM MAN,
FREE ICE CREAMS
BY THE SCORE,
INSTEAD OF SHOUTING,
BUTTER PECAN,
ONE LOOK AT ME
HE SHOUTED,
AMOR, AMOR,
AMOR.

ALL OVER TOWN
IT WENT THAT WAY,
EVERYBODY
TOOK OFF THE DAY,
EVEN PHILOSOPHERS
UNDERSTOOD
HOW GOOD
WAS THE GOOD
BECAUSE I LOOKED
SO GOOD!
THE POOR
STOPPED TAKING LESS,
THE RICH
STOPPED NEEDING MORE.
INSTEAD OF SHOUTING,
NO AND YES,
BOTH LOOKING AT ME SHOUTED,
AMOR.

MY STAY IN TOWN
WAS CUT SHORT -
I WAS DRAGGED TO COURT.
THE JUDGE SAID
I DISTURBED THE PEACE
AND THE JURY GAVE HIM
WHAT FOR!
THE JUDGE RAISED HIS HAND
AND INSTEAD OF
DESIST AND CEASE,
JUDGIE CAME TO THE STAND,
TOOK MY HAND
AND WHISPERED,
AMOR, AMOR, AMOR,
AMOR.

NIGHT WAS TURNING
INTO DAY,
I WALKED ALONE,
AWAY.
NEVER SEE
THAT TOWN AGAIN.
BUT AS I PASSED
THE CHURCH HOUSE DOOR,
INSTEAD OF SINGING AMEN
THE CHOIR WAS SINGING,
AMOR, AMOR, AMOR,
AMOR!
Writers William Bolcom, Kenneth Grahame, Joan Morris, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Classical, Holiday, Choral

Recorded 2001

Lyrics NEIGHBORS,
ON THIS FROSTY TIDE,
THE WIND IS BLOWING,
THERE'S SNOW BESIDE.
SO LET US SIT
BY YOUR FIRESIDE,
AND JOY SHALL BE YOURS
IN THE MORNING.

HERE WE STAND
IN COLD AND SLEET,
BLOWING FINGERS
AND STAMPING FEET,
YOU BY THE FIRE
AND WE IN THE STREET,
AND BIDDING YOU JOY
IN THE MORNING.

A STAR FROM AFAR
HAS LED US ON
AND GAVE US LIGHT
BEFORE THE DAWN.
FOR BLISS TOMORROW
AND JOY ANON,
AND JOY
FOR EVERY MORNING.

GOOD JOSEPH
SAW ACROSS THE SNOW
THE STAR
ABOVE THE MANGER LOW.
HE MADE A BED
FOR HIS MARY,
SO THAT JOY
WOULD BE HERS
IN THE MORNING.

AND IN THE STABLE
WHERE THEY DID DWELL,
WHO WERE THE FIRST
TO SING NOEL?
DONKEY AND COW,
FOR IT BEFELL
THAT JOY WOULD BE THEIRS
IN THE MORNING.

SO, NEIGHBORS,
ON THIS FROSTY TIDE,
THE WIND IS BLOWING,
THERE'S SNOW BESIDE.
SO LET US SIT
BY YOUR FIRESIDE,
AND JOY WILL BE YOURS
IN THE MORNING.
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Showtune, Classical

Recorded 2000

Lyrics CLIMB ABOARD!
NEXT STOP, CASINO,
WHERE THE FOOD
AND DRINKS ARE FREE.
WELCOME
TO THE LAND OF ACTION
FIFTEEN DOLLARS
FOR THE SLOT MACHINE
ON ME!
WELCOME TO THE SEASIDE RENO!
GIVE US YOUR HUNGRY
AND YOUR MEEK,
FRESHEN UP AT OUR CASINO,
RUB SHOULDERS
WITH THE SLICK!
RUB NOSES
WITH THE SLEEK!

CASINO PARADISE,
WHERE EVRYTHING YOU NEED,
YOULL FIND.
CASINO PARADISE,
YOULL LEAVE YOUR MISERY BEHIND.
CASINO PARADISE,
YOULL SPEND A NIGHT
YOU WONT FORGET!
YOULL SING A SONG
OF NO REGRET,
THE DAY YOU WIN
THAT BEST BET YET!

COME TO CASINO PARADISE!

CASINO PARADISE,
WHERE EVRYTHING YOU NEED
YOULL FIND.
CASINO PARADISE.,
YOU LEAVE YOUR MISERY BEHIND.

AND AS FOR FOOD
ENOUGH PASTRAMI
FOR AN ARMY
SERVED ALL NIGHT
AND DAY.
BUTTER
BY THE HOSE,
SUFFICIENT
TO THROMBOSE
THE NEW YORK CITY BALLET!
AND THERES ROMANCE,
HERE BEGGARS CAN BE CHOOSERS,
THERES ALWAYS LOTS OF LOSERS
DYING FOR A DANCE.
BATHING SUITS
THAT MAKE YOU WINCE!
MOTHER,
SEND YOUR PRINCESS
TO FIND HER PRINCE
AT CASINO PARADISE.

HAVE A CRACK
AT ALL YOU LACK,
LOSE A BUNDLE,
TRUNDLE BACK.
TRIP THE TRIPLE-EYED
ONE-ARM BANDIT,
FEEL SO GOOD
YOU JUST CANT STAND IT.
AND THE UPTIGHT FOLKS
UNWINDING,
AND THE HAMMOND ORGAN
GRINDING,
AND THE NOISE
IS ABSOLUTELY BLINDING!
AT CASINO PARADISE,
WHERE EVRYTHING
YOU NEED,
YOULL FIND.
CASINO PARADISE,
YOULL LEAVE
YOUR MISERY BEHIND.
CASINO PARADISE,
YOULL SPEND A NIGHT
YOU WONT FORGET!
YOULL SING A SONG
OF NO REGRET,
THE DAY YOU WIN
THAT BEST BET YET,
COME TO CASINO PARADISE!
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Showtune, Classical

Recorded 2000

Lyrics DRIVE ME, DRIVER,
DRIVE ME OUT OF TOWN,
I KNOW YOU KNOW THE WAY.
TAKE ME, DRIVER,
I'M FEELING SO DOWN,
SO RING MY BELL,
I'LL COME OUT AND PLAY.
I KNOW YOU KNOW THE WAY
TO THE CASINO.
DRIVE ME, DRIVER,
FROM THIS ABYSS
AND TAKE ME
WITHOUT DELAY,
I'M SO HOT
YOU CAN HEAR ME HISS!
JUST YOU TURN THAT KEY
AND I'LL PAY MY WAY,
BUT ONLY LET ME STAY
AT THE CASINO.

STATE OF THE ART,
TOP OF THE HEAP,
GET ME DOWN
BEFORE I LEAP!
MISTER DRIVER,
HEAVEN SENT,
I'M HELL BENT!
DRIVER, DRIVER,
I'M LOONY BIN BOUND,
DRIVER,
TURN ME ROUND.
SILENCE MY VIOLENCE,
TICKLE MY NEEDS,
AND FEED MY GREEDS.
PICKPOCKET MY GRIEF,
SWEET THIEF,

SWEET DRIVER,
TAKE ME
FROM THIS ABYSS
TO THE CASINO!
TO THE CASINO!
TO THE CASINO!
TO THE CASINO!
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Showtune, Classical, Family

Recorded 2000

Lyrics CHECK OUT
THIS ALLIGATOR BOOT,
POWER TIE,
PINSTRIPE SUIT.
ME OH MY,
CANT YOU TELL
THAT I WENT
THE ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE.
WHY!
CHECK OUT
THIS ENGLISH STYLE
CHECKERED VEST,
COST A PILE.
AND CHECK
THAT BARREL CHEST,
WATCH IT SWELL
WHEN YOU GO
THE ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE.
NO, NO, NOT
THE ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE!

BACK A LITTLE WHILE
I WASNT ONE OF THE BOYS
WITH THE RIBS
RUBBED OFF MY CORDUROYS.
NO MATTER WHAT MY STYLE,
NO MATTER WHAT MY WIT,
I COULDNT GET A SMILE,
I NEVER MADE A HIT.
NOW I DONT SAY SPIT
AND THEY ROLL
IN THE AISLE!
CAUSE I GOT THE OPEN EYES
AND THE MOUTH THATS MUTE,
NOW IM ONE OF THE GUYS,
NOW MY CHAMPAGNES BRUT.
CAUSE I TOOK
THE CONVENIENT,
WELL TROD,
EXPEDIENT,
WELL HEELED
ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE!
YES,
HE TOOK THE CONVENIENT,
WELL TROD,
EXPEDIENT,
WELL HEELED
ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE!


ONCE UPON A TIME
THERE WAS THIS IDEALIST
WHO LONGED TO RIGHT
THE WRONGS.
AND SANG THOSE
LETS ALL
GET OUR SHIT TOGETHER SONGS.
NOW YOU CANNOT SEE HIS INTEGRITY
FROM THE SMOKE
OF HIS ELEGANT SHEROOT,
DAD,
YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE
ON THE OLD ESTABLISHMENT PIKE:
YOU CAN STRUGGLE,
YOU CAN STRIVE,
AND WITH LUCK
COME OUT ALIVE,
AND WITH PLUCK
YOU MAY SURVIVE.
BUT ITS NIP AND TUCK
THAT YOULL ARRIVE
UNBENT!
YOURE UP THE DESERT
WITHOUT A TENT,
LIVING IN A CARTON
AND CANT PAY THE RENT.
ONE DAY YOUR HONEY
WONT GIVE A HOOT
LESS YOU TAKE
THE CONVENIENT,
WELL TROD,
EXPEDIENT,
SWELL HEELED
ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE.
SO HE TOOK
THE ESTABLISHMENT ROUTE.

SO GLAD I TOOK IT,
THE FABULESTABISHMENT ROUTE.
TOO BAD HE TOOK IT,
THE DRABULESTABISHMENT ROUTE.
BE SURE YOU BOOK IT,
THE FABULESTABLISHMENT ROUTE.
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Classical

Recorded 2004

Lyrics spoken: MY FRIEND GEORGE
USED TO SAY,
sung: OH CALL ME GEORGIA,
HON,
spoken: GET YOURSELF A DRINK,
sung: AND SANG
THE BEST SOPRANO
IN OUR PART OF TOWN.

IN BEADS,
BROCADE AND PINS,
HE SANG
IF YOU HAPPENED IN
THROUGH THE DOOR
HE NEVER LOCKED
AND SAID,
GET YOURSELF A DRINK,
AND SANG OUT LOUD
TILL TEARS FELL
IN THE COGNAC
AND THE CHOCOLATE MILK
AND GIN.
AND ON THE BEADS,
BROCADE AND PINS.
WHEN STRANGERS HAPPENED
THROUGH HIS OPEN DOOR,
GEORGE SAID, STAY,
BUT YOU GOTTA KEEP QUIET
WHILE I SING,
AND THEN A MINUTE AFTER,
'AND CALL ME GEORGIA.

ONE FINE DAY ,
A STRANGER
IN A SUIT OF NAVY BLUE
TOOK GEORGES LIFE
WITH A KNIFE
GEORGE HAD PLACED
BESIDE AN APPLE PIE
HED BAKED,
AND STABBED HIM
IN THE MIDDLE
OF UN BEL DI VEDREMO
AS HE SANG
FOR THIS PARTICULAR STRANGER
WHO WAS
IN THE UNITED STATES NAVY.

THE FUNERAL
WAS AT THE COCKTAIL HOUR.
WE KNEW
GEORGE WOULD LIKE IT LIKE THAT.
TEARS FELL ON THE BEADS,
BROCADE AND PINS
IN THE COFFIN
WHICH WAS WHITE
BECAUSE GEORGE
WAS A VIRGIN.
OH, CALL HIM GEORGIA,
HON,
GET YOURSELF A DRINK.
YOU CAN CALL ME GEORGIA,
HON,
GET YOURSELF A DRINK!
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Showtune, Classical, Family

Recorded 2000

Lyrics Spoken: WHILE IM WALKING
THIS FINE LINE
BETWEEN NORTH AND SOUTH
AND LOVE AND HATE
I WANT TO STATE
I BEEN WALKING LONG
AND WORKING HARD
ON MY PHILOSOPHY.
COCKEYED,
COCKSURE,
BRILLIANT
AND MISPELLED,
WORKING OUT MY PROBLEM.
I BEEN SIDESWIPED
AND WINDWIPED
AND MOONSWEPT
AND TALKED AT
AND LIED TO
AND DANCED ON
ON MY WAY
TO THE VARIOUS MYSTICAL SPOTS
IN INDIA
AND POINTS EAST
ONLY TO FIND
THE EAST HAS MOVED
TO THE WEST.
I FED THE NEEDY
AND SCRUBBED THE SEEDY
AND DID THE NASTIEST
DIRTIEST DOUBLE TIME
HUMANITARY DEEDS
BY THE SLEW FOR THEM
LOOKED PEOPLE IN THE EYE,
TOLD THEM
THEY WERE GONNA DIE,
IS THERE ANYTHING
I COULD DO FOR THEM?
THE BLIND
LEADING THE BLIND
BUT I DIDNT MIND
CAUSE I WAS WORKING OUT
MY PROBLEM...
ALL THE TIME SINGING
THE TRUTH!

sung: BUT IVE BEEN CONNED
BY CIRCUMSTANCE,
CONNED BY GENES,
CONNED BY A MASTERMIND
MAN OF MEANS.
ITS ENOUGH
TO DRIVE
A MILD MAN WILD.
AFTER ALL
IM NOTHING
BUT A GREAT MANS CHILD.

spoken: IVE TRIED
EVERY KIND OF LOVE SONG,
ART SONG AND PROSE POEM
IN THIRTY TWO BARS.
I BROKE TWO BANJOS,
THREE MANDOLINS,
AND WENT THROUGH
A DOZEN GUITARS.
I WROTE ON EXAM BOOKS,
INSIDE THE COVERS
OF CLASSIC COMICS
AND R. CRUMB,
BAUDELAIRE
AND NANCY DREW.
FOR THREE YEARS
DIDNT SEE A MOVIE,
AND IVE SEEN
THE METEORIC RISE AND FALL
OF THE WORD GROOVY.
WROTE FOLKSY JOKES
FOR THE NATIONAL PUBLIC RADIO
ABOUT THE SITUATION,
WORKING OUT MY PROBLEM.

spoken: YOU WANT TO KNOW
ABOUT MY PROBLEM?
sung: I JOINED
THE VAGABONDS UNION
AND THE HOBOS GUILD,
FOUGHT KILLING THE WHALES
WHILE THE SEALS GOT KILLED.
YOU CAN SEE
IT DRIVES
A MILD MAN WILD.
AFTER ALL IVE DONE
IM NOTHING
BUT A GREAT MANS CHILD.

spoken: NOW ABOUT MY PROBLEM.
sung: PSYCHIATRISTS
CALLED ME FOUR-SYLLABLE NAMES
DEALING WITH MY PROBLEM
MY PROBLEM IS MY FATHER.
IM A BUFFOON
AND THE SON
OF A TYCOON.
I WENT
TO FOUR PRIVATE SCHOOLS
AND TWELVE PUBLIC SCHOOLS,
THREE JUNIOR COLLEGES,
THREE UNIVERSITIES,
PRE-MED, PRE-LAW,
AND EVERY OTHER PRE
THAT LED TO NO DEGREE.
BUT THERES ONE THING
I DID LEARN:
ONE DAY I READ A BOOK
ABOUT ALL THOSE LAND-GRABBING,
LAND-OWNING,
DEAL-WHEELING,
UNFEELING,
PEOPLE-PILFERING CROOKS,
EVERY MOTHERS SON
OF THEM,
AND I LEARNED
THAT MY MOTHERS HUSBAND,
HE WAS ONE OF THEM.
HE LIED
AND CHEATED
AND STOLE.
SOME SAY
HE HAD PEOPLE KILLED!

half-sung: AND MAMAS GONE
AND HE LIVES ON
AND I LIVE IN HIS SHADOW.
sung: IVE BEEN CONNED
BY CIRCUMSTANCE,
CONNED BY GENES,
IVE BEEN CONNED
BY A MASTERMIND
MAN OF MEANS.
ITS ENOUGH
TO DRIVE
A MILD MAN WILD.
THO MY DADDY
IS A BADDIE,
IM A GREAT MANS CHILD.
LIFE HAS NO ZING -
IM A ZITHER
WITHOUT A STRING,
OR A ZIPPER
WITHOUT THE ZIPPER THING.
IM LIKE A BEE
WITHOUT A STING,
OR A BIRD
WHO CANNOT SING.
IVE BEEN THROWN
IN THE SHADOW
OF MY FATHERS FAME.
I COULD HAVE ANYTHING
I WANT
BUT NOT A THING
I COULD NAME.
ITS ENOUGH
TO DRIVE
A MILD MAN WILD.
ITS A CURSE
ON ANY MAN
OR WOMAN
TO BE
A GREAT,
TO BE
A GREAT,
TO BE
A GREAT,
TO BE
A GREAT...
TO BE
A GREAT MANS CHILD!
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Showtune, Classical

Recorded 2000

Lyrics CANT LIVE WITH HIM,
CANT LIVE WITHOUT HIM,
HES SLEAZY AND SLY,
I DON'T KNOW WHY
I LIKE WHAT HE IS.
NO MATTER WHAT THE COST,
I'M HIS,
I'M HIS.
TO LOVE THIS GREASER
IS NOT SO EASY,
HE CANT FEEL OR THINK,
BUT ITS MY KIND OF KINK.
HE IS WHAT HE IS,
NO MATTER WHAT THE COST,
I'M HIS,
I'M HIS.

I TOOK PHILOSOPHY
IN OXFORD AND TIBET,
I SOLVE THE CROSSWORD PUZZLE
ON ONE CIGARETTE,
YET I CANT FIGURE OUT
WHAT THIS AFFAIRS ABOUT.

HE'S NEVER BEEN GIVEN
TO GIVING,
EVEN THAT WEEK
HE EARNED A LIVING,
OH, WHAT THE HECK!
WAITER,
I'LL SIGN HIS CHECK.
LOVES LABORS LOST
AND I'M TEMPEST TOSSED.
NO MATTER WHAT THE COST,
I'M HIS.,
NO MATTER WHAT THE COST,
I'M HIS.
Writers William Bolcom, Arthur Miller, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Standard, Ballad, Classical

Recorded 2002

Lyrics I LOVE THE BEAUTY
OF THE VIEW AT HOME,
THE PALAZZOS OF PALERMO,
THE CATHEDRAL DOME.
I'VE SEEN PICTURES
OF MILANO AND ROME,
BUT THEY DONT COMPARE
TO THE NEW YORK LIGHTS.
I LOVE OUR ORANGES
RIGHT OFF THE TREE,
AND FRYING SARDINES
JUST FISHED
FROM THE SEA.
BUT THERES ONLY ONE PLACE
THAT I LONG TO BE -
AND THAT'S NEW YORK,
AND THE NEW YORK LIGHTS.

IN SICILY
EVERY TOWN HAS A FOUNTAIN
WHERE THE WHOLE TOWN MEETS,
AND UNDER OUR VOLCANO MOUNTAIN
COUPLES HOLD HANDS,
NICELY,
IN THE STREETS.

I'VE SEEN OUR SEA
AND I'VE SEEN OUR SIGHTS,
OUR BIG HOTEL
ON OUR HILLTOP HEIGHTS,
BUT SINCE I WAS A BOY
I BEEN DREAMING OF NIGHTS
IN NEW YORK,
AND THE NEW YORK LIGHTS.
NEW YORK IS ALWAYS MY DREAM!
A SHINY DREAM FROM AFAR
WHERE THE BRIGHT LIGHTS ARE,
THOSE NEW YORK LIGHTS.
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Showtune, Standard, Ballad, Classical

Recorded 1994

Lyrics NIGHT IS FALLING,
NO MORE STALLING,
IT'S TIME TO HIT THE HAY,
WHAT DOES A LADY
AT SHADY TIME SAY?
COME ON,
NIGHT, MAKE MY DAY!
STARS ARE GLINTING,
HEAVENS HINTING
IT'S TIME
TO WEND OUR WAY,
WHAT DO YOU SING
WHEN YOU FLING
YOUR BOUQUET?
COME ON,
NIGHT, MAKE MY DAY!

SPARROW CHIRPING
IN THE EVNING SUN,
BARFLY SLURPING
NOW THE DAY
IS ALMOST DONE.
SATIN SKY
OH,
HOW IVE BEEN WAITING
FOR THE TIME
TO TRICKLE BY!

OH, MY HOT BLOOD'S
FLOWING,
DAYLIGHTS GOING,
BUT ME,
I'M GLOWING AWAY!
WHAT CAN A FRAIL
IN A BRIDAL VEIL SAY?
COME ON,
NIGHT, MAKE MY DAY,
MAKE MY DAY,
MAKE MY DAY!
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Classical, Choral

Recorded 2002

Lyrics ACCORDING TO THE MIND
OF THE WIND
A CHIME CAME WINGING
FROM A CHURCH
THAT PAOLO HAD ANOINTED
WITH OIL PAINT:
THE RING RANG
THROUGH THE VALLEY
LULLING
THE TIRED TOWN.
THE SAINT WHISPERED,
WHISPER AVE MARIA:
YOU ARE A BIRD
BY CRUEL MEN BLINDED,
YOU HUNT THE SUN,
THAT BRIGHT BIRD,
THOUGH YOU ARE THE BIRD,
UCCELLO,
AND THE SKY IS YOURS.
THE SAINT LEFT
BY WAY OF THE GRASS
BENDING NO GRASS.
END OF MIRACLE,
BEGINNING OF MIRACLE.
A DOVE ARRIVES
SOFTLY IT FLITS
TO THE NECK
OF PAOLO THE BIRD,
LIKE A PAT OF BREEZE,
AND THEN FROM FIELD,
FOREST,
GARDEN,
BIRDS FLEW
TO PAOLO'S FEET,
HIS SHOULDERS,
HIS HEAD,
HIS BREATH.
THEN THEY FLEW
TO THE DISAPPEARING SAINT,
LEAVING THE OLD PAINTER
CONTENT WITH THE BIRDS
OF HIS PAINT.
Writers William Bolcom, Arnold Weinstein

Genres Classical

Recorded 2004

Lyrics HE WAS ALWAYS DRESSED IN BLACK,
LONG BLACK JACKET,
BROAD BLACK HAT,
SOMETIMES A CAPE,
AND AS THIN,
AND AS THIN
AS RUBBER TAPE:
BLACK MAX.
HE WOULD RAISE
THAT BIG BLACK HAT
TO THE BIG SHOTS OF THE TOWN
WHO WOULD RAISE
THEIR HATS RIGHT BACK,
NEVER KNEW
THEY WERE BOWING TO
BLACK MAX.

IM TALKING
ABOUT NIGHT IN ROTTERDAM
WHEN THE RIGHT NIGHT PEOPLE
OF ALL THE TOWN
WOULD FIND WHAT THEY COULD
IN THE NIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD
OF BLACK MAX.

THERE WERE WOMEN
IN THE WINDOWS
WITH BODIES FOR SALE
DRESSED IN CURLS
LIKE LITTLE GIRLS
IN LITTLE DOLL HOUSE JAILS.
WHEN THE WOMEN
WALKED THE STREET
WITH BEDS
UPON THEIR BACKS,
WHO WAS LIFTING UP
HIS BRIM TO THEM?
BLACK MAX!
AND THERE WERE
LOOKS FOR SALE,
THE ART OF THE SMILE,
ONLY CERTAIN PEOPLE
WALKED THAT MYSTERY MILE:
ARTISTS,
CHARLATANS,
VAUDEVILLIANS,
MEN OF MATHEMATICS,
ACROBATICS
AND CIVILIANS.

THERE WAS
KNITTING NEEDLE MUSIC
FROM A LADY ORGAN GRINDER
WITH ALL HER SONS
BEHIND HER,
spoken: MARCO,
VITO,
BENO
WAS HE STRONG! -
THOUGH HE WALKED
LIKE A WOMAN
AND CARLO,
WHO WAS FIVE.
HE MUST STILL BE ALIVE!
AH,
POOR MARCO HAD THE SYPH,
AND IF YOU DIDNT TAKE
THE TERRIBLE CURE
THOSE DAYS
YOU WENT CRAZY
AND DIED
AND HE DID.
AND AT THE COFFIN
BEFORE THEY CLOSED THE LID,
WHO RAISED HIS LID?
BLACK MAX.

sung: I WAS
CLIMBING ON THE TRAIN
ONE DAY GOING FAR AWAY
TO THE GOOD OLD U.S.A.
WHEN I HEARD SOME MUSIC
UNDERNEATH THE TRACKS.
STANDING THERE
BENEATH THE BRIDGE,
LONG BLACK JACKET,
BROAD BLACK HAT,
PLAYING THE HARMONICA,
ONE HAND FREE
TO LIFT THAT HAT TO ME:
BLACK MAX,
BLACK MAX,
BLACK MAX!
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