We're sitting in the opera house; We're waiting for the curtain to arise With wonders for our eyes; We're feeling pretty gay, And well we may, \"O, Jimmy, look!\" I say, \"The band is tuning up And soon will start to play.\" We whistle and we hum, Beat time with the drum.
We're sitting in the opera house; We're waiting for the curtain to arise With wonders for our eyes, A feeling of expectancy, A certain kind of ecstasy, Expectancy and ecstasy... Sh's's's.
ii. Rather Sad [ 3 pages, circa 2' 00\" ]
From the street a strain on my ear doth fall, A tune as threadbare as that \"old red shawl,\" It is tattered, it is torn, It shows signs of being worn, It's the tune my Uncle hummed from early morn, 'Twas a common little thing and kind 'a sweet, But 'twas sad and seemed to slow up both his feet; I can see him shuffling down To the barn or to the town, A humming.