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No. 12 - March Song - Babori and Chorus - "Coquin de Printemps!"
| Babori: | When the Autumn leaves are falling, I can hear my conscience calling: Duty waits for me, Vanish all the bars between us. For the present, farewell Venus, Wine and Melody. I abandon Jane's caresses, Kitty's eyes and Maudie's tresses Hold me in no thrall. But tho' Kitty, Maud and Jane In winter smile at me in vain, In Spring I adore them all. I'm fond of any blonde, If any blonde be fond of me; I'll let a sweet brunette Come walking in my company; I'll smile a little while At any shade of maid you bring; I'll kiss that one or this-- I'm not capricious in the Spring. |
| Chorus: | He's fond of any blonde, Of any blonde so fond is he; He'll let a sweet brunette Go walking in his company; He'll smile a little while At any shade of maid you bring; He'll kiss that one or this-- He's not capricious in the Spring. |
| Babori: | Sternly ev'ry sense refuses To be waken'd by the Muses, While the snow lies round; Mendelssohn is unmelodious, Offenbach to me is odious, Verdi has no sound; Though to rouse me you may choose a March by Suppé or by Sousa, On deaf ears 'twill fall; In the winter I will urge That ev'ry melody's a dirge, In Spring I applaud them all. Mozart can fill my heart, At his command I smile or weep; Wagner my soul will stir, Or softly soothe that soul to sleep; Gounod will still me, though With Messager I sway and swing; My own pet gramaphone Is never rusty in the Spring. |
| Chorus: | Mozart can fill his heart, At his command he'll smile or weep; Wagner his soul can stir, Or softly soothe that soul to sleep; Gounod will still him, though With Messager he sway and swing; His own pet gramaphone Is never rusty in the Spring. |
| Babori: | When the chills of winter rack us, I will turn my back on Bacchus And his vinous schemes; Water for my thirst suffices, No green fairy me entices In Hogarthian dreams. For a stoup of choice Ayala, Crimson Beaune, or old Marsala I will never call. In the winter I may think No wine is fit for me to drink, In Spring I can drink them all. Bring me some Burgundy, The vintage that I love so well; White wine from River Rhine, Or matchless Nectar of Moselle; Then some Heidsieck or Mumm Of cuvée rare whene'er I ring. Bring, too, some "Mountain Dew" With sparkling water from the Spring. |
| Chorus: | Bring him some Burgundy, The vintage that he loves so well; White wine from River Rhine, Or matchless nectar of Moselle; Then some Heidsieck or Mumm Of cuvée rare whene'er he ring. Bring, too, some "Mountain Dew" With sparkling water from the Spring. |
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Page modified 3 November 2016