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 were written by the
Le. if professional songwriters had written them instead, might have turned out considerably differently. for example, consider the old favorite, with 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 this song. the first verse might have come out like this:

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

Oh clementine, can't you from the howls of me
love of mine calls to you from the bowels of me.
Are you the returning
Of churning, burning, yearning 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 out as a baritone aria from an italian opera, somewhat along these lines:

Era legera e un fairy
E suo numero nine,
Herring senza to-ho-ho-hopses,
Sandalae per clementina si, per si,
Per clementina sandalae, per sandalae, per clementine.
Clehementina, clehementina, clehe-he-mentina...

Herring senza topses sandalae per clementina,
Herring boxes senza topses per clementina,
Che sciagura clementina, che sciagura clementina, clementina, cara
Clementina-na-na-na-na-na-na-na!
at this rather dramatic juncture in the narrative, one of our modern "cool school" of composers had tried writing a verse, the next one might have come out like this:

Drove ducklings to the water
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 the foamy brine, dig that crazy clementine, man!
To end on a note, one can always count on gilbert and sullivan for a rousing finale, full of words and music and signifying nothing.

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

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

But I she and she loves me.
Enraptured are the of we.
Yes I she and she loves i
And through all eternity!

See I mean?