It is a premiere night at the Fox Carthay Circle theater, and the Our Gang show up to observe the festivities. But after the Gang causes a disruption, the police send them scurrying home. ... See full summary »
It is a premiere night at the Fox Carthay Circle theater, and the Our Gang show up to observe the festivities. But after the Gang causes a disruption, the police send them scurrying home. Not to worry--the Our Gang stage their own premiere night in the clubhouse barn. Written by
Thomas McWilliams <email@example.com>
The song that Alfalfa was singing was a remake of a very popular civil war song, Lorena. Of course the words are changed, but the original was well liked on both sides of the conflict and caused many soldiers from each side to go AWOL due to Homesickness. The actual lyrics are:
The years creep slowly by, Lorena The snow is on the grass again The sun's low down the sky, Lorena The frost gleams where the flowers have been But the heart throbs on as warmly now As when the summer days were nigh Oh, the sun can never dip so low A-down affection's cloudless sky.
A hundred months have passed, Lorena Since last I held that hand in mine And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena Though mine beat faster far than thine A hundred months...'twas flowery May When up the hilly slope we climbed To watch the dying of the day And hear the distant church bells chime.
We loved each other then, Lorena More than we ever dared to tell And what we might have been, Lorena Had but our loving prospered well But then, 'tis past, the years have gone I'll not call up their shadowy forms I'll say to them, "Lost years, sleep on Sleep on, nor heed life's pelting storms."
The story of the past, Lorena Alas! I care not to repeat The hopes that could not last, Lorena They lived, but only lived to cheat I would not cause e'en one regret To rankle in your bosom now "For if we try we may forget" Were words of thine long years ago.
Yes, these were words of thine, Lorena They are within my memory yet They touched some tender chords, Lorena Which thrill and tremble with regret 'Twas not the woman's heart which spoke Thy heart was always true to me A duty stern and piercing broke The tie which linked my soul with thee.
It matters little now, Lorena The past is in the eternal past Our hearts will soon lie low, Lorena Life's tide is ebbing out so fast There is a future, oh, thank God! Of life this is so small a part 'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod But there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.
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