[Intro:Spoken]
I am reminded, at this point, of a fellow I used to know whose name was Hen3ry. Oh, and to give you an idea of what an individualist he was, he spelt it H-e-n-3-r-y. The three was silent, you see
Hen3ry, Hen3ry was financially independent, having inherited his father's tar and feather business, and was therefore able to devote his full time to such intellectual pursuits as writing. I particularly remember a heartwarming novel of his about a young necrophiliac who finally acheived his boy-hood ambition by becoming a coroner
The rest of you can look it up when you get home
In addition to writing, he indulged in a good deal of philosophizing. Like so many contemporary philosophers, he especially enjoyed giving advice to people who were happier than he was. And one uh, one particular bit of advice which I recall--which is the reason I bring up this whole dreary story--is something he said once before they took him away to the Aassachusetts State Home for the Bewildered. He said, "Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it depends on what you put into it."
It's always seemed to me that this is precisely the sort of dynamic, positive thinking that we so desperately need today in these trying times of crisis and universal broo-ha-ha. And so with this in mind, I have here a modern, positive, dynamic, uplifting song in the tradition of the great old revival hymns. This one might more accurately be termed a survival hym
It goes like this:
(Sung)
When you attend a funeral
It is sad to think that sooner or l-
-ater those you love will do the same for you
And you may have thought it tragic
Not to mention other adjec-
-tives to think of all the weeping they will do
But don't you worry
No more ashes, no more sackcloth
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day nevermore adorn a sleeve
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve
I am reminded, at this point, of a fellow I used to know whose name was Hen3ry. Oh, and to give you an idea of what an individualist he was, he spelt it H-e-n-3-r-y. The three was silent, you see
Hen3ry, Hen3ry was financially independent, having inherited his father's tar and feather business, and was therefore able to devote his full time to such intellectual pursuits as writing. I particularly remember a heartwarming novel of his about a young necrophiliac who finally acheived his boy-hood ambition by becoming a coroner
The rest of you can look it up when you get home
In addition to writing, he indulged in a good deal of philosophizing. Like so many contemporary philosophers, he especially enjoyed giving advice to people who were happier than he was. And one uh, one particular bit of advice which I recall--which is the reason I bring up this whole dreary story--is something he said once before they took him away to the Aassachusetts State Home for the Bewildered. He said, "Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it depends on what you put into it."
It's always seemed to me that this is precisely the sort of dynamic, positive thinking that we so desperately need today in these trying times of crisis and universal broo-ha-ha. And so with this in mind, I have here a modern, positive, dynamic, uplifting song in the tradition of the great old revival hymns. This one might more accurately be termed a survival hym
It goes like this:
(Sung)
When you attend a funeral
It is sad to think that sooner or l-
-ater those you love will do the same for you
And you may have thought it tragic
Not to mention other adjec-
-tives to think of all the weeping they will do
But don't you worry
No more ashes, no more sackcloth
And an armband made of black cloth
Will some day nevermore adorn a sleeve
For if the bomb that drops on you
Gets your friends and neighbors too
There'll be nobody left behind to grieve
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