Rhythm on the River Page #8

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What's-His-Name d

d Ain't it a shame

Poor Mame d

d Ain't it a crime

what she did d

d Sure she's only

a crazy kid d

d Now she has

to talk fancy d

d And eat caviar d

d And look like

those pictures d

d In Harper's Bazaar d

d And try to fnd happiness

Just the same d

d Ain't it a shame

Poor Mame d

d Now she has

to be social d

d Has to go

to the nightclubs d

d Has to dance like a Cuban

and still act like a lady d

d Oh, to think that a child

of Mike O'Grady d

d Would marry Sir Reginald

What's-His-Name d

d Ain't it a shame

about Mame d

How 'bout that?

d Ain't it a shame

about Mame d

d Now she's lost all

her spark and flame d

d She wears sables instead

of a skirt and a blouse d

d And has to keep shoes on

when she's in the house d

d She married Sir Reginald

What's-His-Name d

d Ain't it a shame d

d Looks like a frame d

d How did he tame

poor Mame d d

There you are.

That was swell.

Ain't it a shame we didn't

know about her before.

It certainly is.

Band wasn't too hot,

was it?

Well, maybe not.

Personally, I think it's

the best song Mr. Summers

has ever written.

Time. Time.

We wrote that together.

I wasn't referring to

the number so much as I was

the way you put it across.

Have you ever considered

nightclub work, Miss Lane?

As a singer?

Naturally.

I've never sung before

people except in school.

Even then, they hid me

behind a fern.

That was a big mistake.

[ Westlake ] Any girl

as attractive as you are should

go a long way in this town.

Let's make a date

for a tryout.

- With my band?

- No, maestro.

My boys read music.

Oh... back to

the pawnshop, boys.

What do you say?

Well, thanks.

But I don't wanna be

a nightclub singer.

I belong to the team

of Lane and Summers.

We're songwriters.

We sort of go together

like ham and eggs.

Just a minute, Cherry.

Looks like they want

the eggs and not the ham.

This is a big town,

a tough town. If you

get a chance, grab it.

What kind of money

can you pay her?

I don't wanna do it.

Mr. Westlake, I'm sorry

you don't like the song,

but that's all

we came here to sell.

If you ever change your mind,

you can get in touch with me

through Mr. Westlake.

Phil, good-bye.

Good-bye,johnny.

Good-bye.

Lots of luck.

Watch your weight.

Miss Lane, I'm afraid

you've turned down

a pretty nice offer.

And, Summers, I'd like

to give you a word of advice.

Yeah?

If I were you, I'd try

to develop a style of my own...

because you're not going to

get far imitating a composer

as well known as--

As Oliver Courtney.

Exactly.

Well, thank you

very much.

You're welcome.

Good luck.

You know the way those fellows

went for you,

it looks like you

oughta be in that kind of work.

Funny I never thought

of that before.

Bob, I don't want to be

a nightclub singer.

That isn't what

I came to New York for.

I don't want to be

a ghostwriter either.

I'd just as soon

sail in my catboat

and look up at the blue sky.

But things aren't

arranged that way.

Look, honey, I know what

you're trying to do.

You just don't want

to leave me out on a limb.

I appreciate it,

but I got mixed-up into

this Courtney business...

and I'll get out

the way I got in.

What's the use discussing it?

I haven't an evening gown

and I haven't paid the rent.

I guess it's all

a pipe dream anyway.

Run along home

and get a little rest.

Rest? Listen,

we're going home and work.

I don't feel like work.

You go ahead

and I'll see you later.

I got something I wanna do.

Good-bye.

Bob Summers is here.

Oh, Summers! Oh!

Show him in.

Show him in.

d d [ Humming ]

Okay, Bob.

Hello, Mr. Courtney.

Hello, Bob.

How are you?

If you want me,

I'll be right here.

Okay.

Won't you sit down?

I can only stay

a couple minutes.

I found out you were right

and I was wrong.

Didn't work out,

eh, Bob?

Sorry. Really am sorry.

But I did warn you, didn't I?

I don't need sympathy.

What I need's a couple

hundred bucks... fast.

How 'bout taking me back?

Well, Bob, after all I--

Uh, well, I--

I might be able to use you

for a couple of weeks.

Can you make it four weeks?

Four weeks is

a long ti--

How do I know you wouldn't

run off on me again?

I've learned my lesson.

Oh. No, Bob,

I can't take the chance.

I've got to know where

my music is coming from.

I'll tell you

what I wanted to do.

Got a song here that

Cherry and I wrote.

We did it together.

I think it's the best thing

we've done.

I'd like to put it up

with you as security

if you'll put up the dough.

''Only Forever.''

That's a nice title.

I'm not selling you this.

When I've delivered,

I'm to get it back.

''Here's the evening dress

you need...

''and a little change

for extras.

''Now go in there

and win.

I'm going back to Arabella

where I belong.''

d Each day d

djust about sunset d

d I watch you

passing my door d

d It's all I can do d

d Not to run to you d

d But I don't want

to cry anymore d

d Night time d

d When there is

moonlight d

d The same old moon

we knew before d

d It's all I can do

not to run to you d

d But I don't want

to cry anymore d

d All that I've known

about happiness d

d Darling, is being

with you d

d Then I would fnd myself

losing my mind d

d Over some careless thing

you'd do d

d Why d

d Can't I forget you d

d I know so well d

djust what's in store d

d A moment or two d

d In the clouds

with you d

d Then back where

I was before d

d But d

d I don't want to cry d

d Anymore d d

Where did she come from?

I don't know, Mr. Goodrich.

She's new tonight.

Bring me a phone.

Yes, sir,

right away.

Thank you.

There's a kink in this

and for two years I've

been trying to fnd it.

Say, Unk. Tell me something,

will ya, man to man.

Shoot.

Suppose you took $200

advance payment.

Then you spent the $200

and couldn't deliver.

What would you do?

That depends on what

you promised to deliver.

If it was eggs--

Not eggs.

It's music.

My sister's cat's kittens!

What's eatin' you?

Why, you can produce music

like a hog sweatin' lard.

Not anymore, I can't.

Run aground

in a fog, eh?

Somethin' like that.

I seem to be goin' in circles.

I can't write, I can't think,

I can't do anything.

And you need $200?

I do if I'm gonna save a song

that we wrote together.

Well, I guess I could

dig up the $200 for you...

if I could only remember

where I hid it.

Where's Courtney?

Well, well, well.

If it isn't our old friend

Charlie Goodrich.

Where have you been

keeping yourself?

Listen. I've been trying

to get Courtney

on the phone all morning.

I demand to know

where he is!

He's out.

Then I'll stick here

until he gets back.

You'll have a long wait.

He's out communing

with nature... where

the stiff breezes blow.

He composes best that way.

Is anything the matter?

Millie's walked out!

She took a plane to Hollywood.

Well, our loss

is Hollywood's... loss.

You mean, it's my loss!

And it's all on account

of that loafer Courtney.

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