Luyện nghe bài hát Clementine

I should like to consider the folk song, and expand 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 written by the
Le. if professional songwriters had written instead, things 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 merit whatsoever, and imagine what might have happened if, for example, cole porter had tried writing this song. the first verse might have come out like this:

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

Oh clementine, you tell from the howls of me
This love of mine calls to you from the of me.
Are you discerning the
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 come out as a baritone from an italian opera, somewhat along these lines:

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

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

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

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

The resisted, the sister persisted,
I her, all loyalty slipped.
When she said I have her, her sister's cadaver
Must have 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