Kunci: Eb major
Verse 1
Eb
The makers of Lady Ashborn's incense,
Bb
the incense that's kind to your nose,
Eb
F
presents The Hour of Love.
Gb
F
And now, once again,
we present The Hour of Love.
Ah, love.
Eb
There's the love of a dog for his master.
Gb
There's the love of a flower that smells.
There's the love that
Gb
Eb
has for a fellow named Wells.
Ab
Eb
There's the love of a wheel for a tire.
There's the love for which everyone
yearns.
Ab
Eb
But the love that sets wo men on fire
F
Eb
is their lover boy.
Sugar throat burns.
Good evening, ladies.
F
Fm
Forget your worries.
Forget your husbands.
Sit back on your chaise and lounge.
This is Sugar Throat Burns
coming into your living room.
Into your dining room.
Ab
Eb
Into your... Oh, I beg your pardon.
And now for my first song.
Are you listening, ladies?
Thank you and good
night, Sugar Throat
But Bing, I didn't sing yet.
I know George,
I just wanted to give the folks an idea
of the kind of a program
you would do as a singer.
But I'd like to do my ditty.
Can I borrow Trotter's piano player
and do my song?
Piano player?
George, if you're going to do a solo,
let's do it right.
Let's do it big.
Say, a production,
huh? Certainly.
The rhythmers,
John Scott and the orchestra,
in fact, our complete vocal
and musical facilities
are at your disposal, sir.
Well, Bing, I wanted to sing.
It might as well be spring.
Does everybody know it? Sure.
It's not too tough for you,
is it? No, we'll...
We'll muddle through it somehow,
Sugar Throat.
Gosh, I hope Gracie's listening in.
Eb
I'm as restless as a willow.
Bb
restless as a willow in a windstorm.
a puppet on a string.
Db
Bb
He'd say that he had spring fever,
Eb
Fm
Eb
But it isn't even spring
Eb
Bb
faintly discontented
Eb
Bb
Eb
Like a nightingale without a song to sing
Bb
Db
Bb
Oh, why should he have spring fever
F
Bb
Eb
When it is n't even spring
Verse 2
Eb
I keep wishing I was somewhere
Verse 3
Ab
Walking down the strange blue
Eb
street
Fm
Eb
Db
Hearing words that he has never heard
Verse 4
G
F
from a girl he's yet to me
Bb
Eb
Bb
Eb
I'm as busy as he's as giddy
as a baby on the swing
Db
Eb
crocus or a rosebud
F
G
Eb
Or a robin on the wing
F
Eb
Bb
But I feel so gay in a mel ancholy way
Eb
F
That it might as well be spring
Eb
Bb
Eb
Bb
Eb
E
Bb
It might as well be the spring
And Miss Russell says,
OK, OK, OK, all right
Well, George, that was certainly great
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