Luyện nghe bài hát 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 by the
Le. if professional songwriters had written them instead, things might have turned out considerably differently. for example, consider the old favorite, which, I'm sure, you're all familiar
Ot;clementine", you

In a cavern, in a canyon,
dadadada...
A song with no recognizable merit whatsoever, and imagine what might have happened if, for example, cole porter had tried writing song. the first verse might have come out like this:

In a cavern, in a canyon,
for a mine,
Far away from the of the city
She was so pretty, a pity, clementine.

Oh clementine, can't you from the howls of me
This love of mine to you from the bowels of me.
Are you the returning
Of this churning, burning, 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 opera, somewhat along these lines:

Era legera e come un
E suo shoes nine,
Herring bo-ho-ho-hoxes to-ho-ho-hopses,
Sandalae per si, per clementina si,
Per sandalae, per clementina sandalae, per clementine.
Clehementina, clehementina, clehe-he-mentina...

Herring senza topses sandalae per clementina,
boxes senza topses sandalae per clementina,
Che 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 had tried writing a verse, the next one might have come out like this:

Drove those ducklings to the
brach! doddley doo doo uh ah!
Ev'ry like 9am
Ooh pah! de do de do do do, da!
Got up on a splinter, got a-hung up on a splinter
ge mop! huh huh!
Do de do de do do do
Fell into the foamy brine, dig crazy clementine, man!
To end on a happy note, one can always count on gilbert and for a rousing finale, full of words and music and signifying nothing.

That I missed her depressed her sister named esther,
This to pester she tried.
Now her sister's a festering blister,
best to resist her, say i.

The resisted, the sister persisted,
I kissed her, all slipped.
she said I could have her, her sister's cadaver
Must surely turned in it's crypt.
Yes, yes, yes, yes!

But I she and she loves me.
are the both of we.
Yes I love she and she i
And will all eternity!

See what I