Clementine

I should like to consider the folk song and expand 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

Le 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

Ot 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：

In a cavern in a canyon

Excava ha ha hating 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 discerning the returning

Of this churning burning yearning for you oo oo ah ah

Well supposing at this point that mozart

Or one of that crowd

Had tried writing a verse the next one might have come out as a baritone aria from an italian opera somewhat along these lines：

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 clementine

Clehementina clehementina clehe he mentina

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

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 have come out like this：

Drove those ducklings to the water

Yeah brach doddley doo doo uh ah

Ev'ry morning like 9am

Ooh pah de do de do do do biddley da

Got hung up on a splinter got a hung up on a splinter

Cloo ge mop huh huh

Do de do de do do do

Fell into the foamy brine dig that crazy clementine man

To end on a happy note one can always count on gilbert and sullivan for a rousing finale full of words and music and signifying nothing

That I missed her depressed her young sister named esther

This mister to pester she tried

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

Enraptured are the both of we

Yes I love she and she loves I

And will through all eternity

See what I mean