My Love For You 1953

26 Mar 2009 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 1953, lyric Tags: , ,

            My Love For You

Verse:

Life handles some very hard;

Others it treats with kid gloves.

I was placed in category number one

When it suddenly handed me love.

Refrain:

My love for you, to quote a cliché,

Came ‘out of the blue’

And now has me praying that you

Will quote that same cliché too.

My love for you won’t leave me alone;

Is there when I eat, sleep, travel or phone –

Please consent,

And take me out of this torment.

Love’s beautiful, love’s grand.

It brings ecstasy as nothing can.

But it’s awfully hard to bear

When it’s just a one-sided affair.

So, please tell me when

You’ll make me completely happy again

And whisper these words in my ear:

“My love for you is here.”

©My Love For You 53.3 29

Lyrics;

Arlene Corwin

Last Call For Alcohol 1953

26 Mar 2009 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 1953, lyric, our times our culture Tags: , ,

               Last Call For Alcohol

The bar is closing as the clock nears three,

And the waiter sings his very last phrase

To the guys and dolls in the very last phase of life,

Strife and dissipation.

So the waiters speak again,

And the drinkers seek again:

Another bar to outlet all their blues.

“Last call for booze!”

“Last call for alcohol!”

So the waiters sing their mournful cry

To the men and women who want to die,

Cause they can’t continue their supply of alcohol.

How quite unfortunate,

As you listen to their importunate pleas of,

“Please, buddy, can’t you spare another drink?”

How ominous that last phrase sounds

As the realization hits them

That they can’t get any more rounds

Of whisky or gin,

Or anything else that’ll let them in

To the land of Oobladee.

When you ask them why they drink,

They stop, they pause, they think.

And what excuses they all give,

Such as, “This is really livin’ ”

Or, “The job’s a bore…’

‘Can’t take no more of life!

What strife!

So they’ll stay as long as they can stall,

Until their weary faces fall

And Jimmy utters his last call:

“Last call for alcohol.”

“Last call for alcohol.”

©Last Call For Alcohol 1953

Lyrics; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

 

College Girl In Love 1953

26 Mar 2009 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 1953 Tags: ,

        College Girl In Love

Sitting on my bed trying to read Byron,

Keats and Shelley, Wordsworth and the rest,

I find old Shelley trying,

Byron mystifying,

Keats and Wordsworth fleet away unguessed.

In silent observation,

I notice an elation

Filling every capillary with an unknown zest.

Rising from my bed, I wander to the window.

Suddenly a beanie passes by.

In silent introspection

I do a quick dissection,

And discover that my heart is thumping

For a guy. Oh my!

College girl in love,

That’s how I’d classify myself

Were I to take a course in, just suppose,

Contemporary English prose,

I’d be a college girl in love.

Schizophrenic case;

Might be where I’d be place

If I were studying pathology,

Behavioral psychology;

I’d be a schizophrenic case.

But I don’t care what they might say

Because I may behave this way.

I love his eyes, his nose, mouth, his chin,

And his fraternity pin!

College girl in love.

I know the state I’m in.

And yet I’ll let this abnormality

Replace my rationality

Till romance starts to bloom

And we are Mr. and Mrs. College bride and groom.

©College Girl In Love 53. 11

Lyrics;

Arlene Corwin

Last Call For Alcohol 1953

14 Nov 2008 Leave a comment

by arlenecorwin in 1953, lyric, our times our culture Tags: , , ,

             Last Call For Alcohol

The bar is closing as the clock nears three,

And the waiter sings his very last phrase

To the guys and dolls in the very last phase of life,

Strife and dissipation.

So the waiters speak again,

And the drinkers seek again:

Another bar to outlet all their blues.

“Last call for booze!”

“Last call for alcohol!”

So the waiters sing their mournful cry

To the men and women who want to die,

Cause they can’t continue their supply of alcohol.

How quite unfortunate,

As you listen to their importunate pleas of,

“Please, buddy, can’t you spare another drink?”

How ominous that last phrase sounds

As the realization hits them

That they can’t get any more rounds

Of whisky or gin,

Or anything else that’ll let them in

To the land of Oobladee.

When you ask them why they drink,

They stop, they pause, they think.

And what excuses they all give,

Such as, “This is really livin’ ”

Or, “The job’s a bore…’

‘Can’t take no more of life!

What strife!

So they’ll stay as long as they can stall,

Until their weary faces fall

And Jimmy utters his last call:

“Last call for alcohol.”

“Last call for alcohol.”

©Last Call For Alcohol 1953

Lyrics; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin

 

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