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Don't tell me not to live, |
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Just sit and putter, |
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Life's candy and the sun's |
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A ball of butter. |
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Don't bring around a cloud |
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To rain on my parade. |
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Don't tell me not to fly-- |
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I've simply got to. |
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If someone takes a spill, |
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It's me and not you. |
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Who told you you're allowed |
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To rain on my parade! |
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I'll march my band out, |
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I'll beat my drum, |
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And if I'm fanned out, |
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Your turn at bat, sir. |
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At least I didn't fake it. |
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Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it! |
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But whether I'm the rose |
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Of sheer perfection, |
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Or freckle on the nose |
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Of life's complexion, |
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The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye, |
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I gotta fly once, |
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I gotta try once, |
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Only can die once, right, sir? |
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Ooh, life is juicy, |
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Juicy, and you'll see |
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I'm gonna have my bite, sir! |
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Get ready for me, love, |
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'Cause I'm a "comer," |
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I simply gotta march, |
|
My heart's a drummer. |
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Don't bring around a cloud |
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To rain on my parade! |
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I'm gonna live and live now, |
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Get what I want--I know how, |
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One roll for the whole shebang, |
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One throw, that bell will go clang, |
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Eye on the target--and wham-- |
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One shot, one gun shot, and bam-- |
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Hey, Mister Arnstein, here I am! |
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I'll march my band out, |
|
I will beat my drum, |
|
And if I'm fanned out, |
|
Your turn at bat, sir, |
|
At least I didn't fake it. |
|
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it. |
|
Get ready for me, love, |
|
'Cause I'm a "comer," |
|
I simply gotta march, |
|
My heart's a drummer. |
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Nobody, no, nobody |
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Is gonna rain on my parade! |
