No. 6 - Duet - Fanny, Chris and Girls - "In Posterland."
Chris: | La la la la la la la. |
Girls: | La. |
Contraltos: | Do la sol sol fa, si si la do la fa do si si la sol fa fa mi la sol sol fa si si la do la fa mi mi mi re do la si la sol do do fa. |
Sopranos: | Do do do do do do fa la do do re do si do si sol mi sol do do re do si do la fa fa si re re fa si re re do fa mi fa mi ra do fa mi re mi fa sol la sol re do mi re mi fa sol la sol re do fa mi re do so do re sol do do re mi fa sol la si do si sol fa la do do re do si do si sol mi sol do do re do si do la la fa si re re fa si re re do fa mi fa mi re do si do re mi fa sol fa mi fa mi re do re do si la sol fa mi re mi fa sol la la sol re si la do re mi fa la do fa do la fa. |
Chris: | Very good! Keep it up! |
Sopranos: | Do fa la do do re do si do si sol fa la do do re do si do. |
Chris: | My hope to wander through it most absorbing and intense is That land of High-Art Posters that we see upon the fences! To that far land could we but fly, We'd happy be there, you and I, For living in that blessed spot a moderate expense is, Therefore I beg, take heart and slip the stern parental tether, We'll wedded be and then depart for Posterland together, With cloudless hearts we e'er may stray, Through many colored meadows gay, With ecru trees that always bloom in lemon colored weather. |
Fanny: | Ah, me! |
Chris: | Ah, me! |
Sopranos: | Ah, me! |
Contraltos: | Ah, me! |
All: | Ah, me! |
Fanny & Chris: | In Posterland! In Posterland! Where skies are always red, Where orange lambkins skip about Without a tail or head, Where trees like purple sponges look, Where grass is always pink, We'd walk beside a light-green brook, While peach-blow thoughts we'd think. |
Chris: | Very good! Keep it up! |
Sopranos: | Do fa la do do re do si do si sol fa la do do re do si do. |
Fanny: | The home of highly colored hopes and rainbow-hued extenses, That land of High-Art Posters that we see upon the fences! How fortunate indeed our fate, Could we that mystic strand locate, For to discover it a task imposing and immense is, Vermillion cows are to this land exclusively allotted, The cats are all two-legged there, the dogs are polka dotted. The natives are the strangest crew That ever pen or pencil drew, The horses are the queerest things that ever walked or trotted. |
Chris: | Ah, me! |
Fanny: | Ah, me! |
Sopranos: | Ah, me! |
Contraltos: | Ah, me! |
All: | Ah, me! |
Fanny & Chris: | In Posterland! In Posterland! Where skies are always red, Where orange lambkins skip about Without a tail or head, Where trees like purple sponges look, Where grass is always pink, We'd walk beside a light-green brook, While peach-blow thoughts we'd think. |
Sopranos: | la do do re do si do la fa. |
Fanny & Chris: | Posterland. |
Contraltos: | la do do re do si do la la. |
Fanny & Chris: | Posterland. |
American Musical Theatre | Chris and the Wonderful Lamp
Page modified 6 November 2016