Till the Clouds Roll By

To we so long for you.

Every day.

The new song for you.

We all Mississippi, we all work.

Loading up.

Are there.

I have God such a wonderful show with the greatest dramas

and jolly comedies. Stephen Baker of a handsome,

misleading man and beautiful Julie Laverne has welcome.

Dozen.

Cares. If my boat goes upstream

or if the gate bids me with the rivers.

I.

The with my fancy.

Sometimes I thank my lucky stars.

And.

Other times I wonder where the mate

for.

Hello.

How do you do?

Are you an actress?

Oh, no, but, but I'd give anything if I could be.

Why?

Well,

because you can make believe so many wonderful things that

never happen in real life.

Well, if you like to make believe one thing,

why can't we make believe we know each other?

The game.

Our dreams are more romantic than the world we see.

And if the things we dream don't happen to be,

that's just an, an important technicality.

The you and I have never met.

We need not mine. Mind conventions,

if we,

we

love you

that you love.

Magnolia.

Yes, mother.

Goodbye.

I hope I see you again.

Life upon the wicked stage ain't ever what a girl suppose as

stage door. Johnny's aren't raging over you with gems.

And rose says, when you let a feller hold your hands,

which means an extra beer or sand,

which everybody whispers ain't her life a

though,

you are warned against a rue ruining your ation when you

played around the one night trade around the great GNA

nation.

Wild only men who give you jewels and saveable only living

ESOPs, Fs life.

Ed ain't nothing for a girl.

You.

We do.

Not believe you.

There is no doubt you are crazy about.

Your.

Full stage.

If some gentleman would talk with reason,

I would cancel all next season.

Life on the wicked stage ain't nothing.

Listen, sister, I love my Mr.

Man and I came tell you why.

There ain't no reason for me to love that man.

It must be something

that the angels done.

Fish gotta swim.

Birds.

Gotta fly.

I got a love one man to die.

Tell me I'm crazy.

Maybe I know can hurt.

Loving that

he goes away,

can come home as late as can be.

He must know something.

But don't say.

You'll run over a year. Well, all.

That was a swell show, Mr.

Kind.

Well, thank you Joe.

That too. The Waldorf Mr.

Kind.

What was that, Joe?

That Big s Shinda get thrown for you.

It's down at the Waldorf, ain't it?

Mr. Kind?

Yes.

But first I'd like to stop off at the house of an old

friend. Yes sir.

Just for a moment, Joe.

Turn right at the next crossing.

It's not very far.

I'm looking for an old brownstone house.

It was the home of a very great and good friend tonight

during the show. I couldn't seem to get him off my mind.

Yes, listen.

And I'd like to be alone for a few minutes, Joe,

before we go down to the Waldorf and face that crowd. Oh,

I get you. Like, like a minute of silence.

Something like that, huh?

Yeah, it's Joe.

Something like that.

Here, stop here, Joe.

Here at the corner in front of that radio shop.

Oh, there it is.

See you.

You mean that that lodging house sandwiched in there?

Well,

of course it didn't have that room to let sign of the window

then.

Other than that, it hasn't changed very much.

The street has changed.

It changed quite a bit since I first walked down it years

ago.

Joe, as you notice this radio shop, well,

that was a bicycle shop the first time I ever saw it.

I remember the day very well.

It was spring and I might have been any American kid coming

down that street.

I had a song under my arm. My hopes were high.

And the world was wonderful.

I was ambitious and I was eager, but I needed a little help.

I'd been told that the best man to give it to me was a man

by the name of Hassler.

James Hassler.

Come in. Come in.

You're an hour late already.

I suppose you'll realize that you can start on the upstairs

bedroom immediately.

Mrs. Mueller daddy wants some more roast beef.

I'll.

Be there in a second, Mr.

Hessler, and see that you get to their nest.

Young man. He's.

Not the more killer.

I'm a songwriter.

A songwriter.

I see you entered under false pretenses. Well,

it won't do you any good young man. Mr.

Hestor isn't seeing songwriters anymore.

He's going in for better things.

Maybe he.

Should have a rose beef. He's very, don't mention rose beef.

In front of a songwriter.

Gimme a snack here.

No. So it's, so.

It's you feel like a fall down thing, don't you Dear.

Dear?

Well, you can come in for a while.

I can't have people fainting in the house.

Not even songwriters. Thank you.

Come in. Come in.

Daddy.

He's starving to death. Mr.

Ler.

Mr. Maxey.

Yes. Yes, I know.

I know. Mr.

Max Dreyfuss of the harms company sent you grit.

Little tune. He thinks it has possibilities.

If it's properly arranged now I'm to help you arrange it.

Look.

How skinny his neck is, daddy.

Well,

he said that he told you that I was the greatest arranger in

American. I should give you a few lessons though.

Oh, my friend.

He is right. There's only one catch I've given up arranging.

I'm through dressing up silly little tunes for girl shows

and beer halls.

I'm gonna write some real music for a change.

Oh, I hear Mrs.

Set it down here.

The trouble with you songwriters is all you ever think about

is making money.

Here. Sit down, have some roast beef.

Oh, well, no, thank you.

Go ahead. Sit down.

Sit down.

Oh, you never think of doing anything big,

anything worthwhile like Brahms or peach? Oh no, don't,

don't sit down there please.

That's Mrs.

Kessler's place rest is So we always keep it set for, oh,

I'm.

Sorry. Yeah.

Sit down here.

No,

all you fellas want to do is write sugary little tombs and

make a lot of money.

Did you ever hear Beethoven's Roka or Mozart's Jupiter?

Didn't they do something to you? Great.

Evans, doesn't genius touch you fellas at all?

Daddy's a genius.

Yes. Daddy's a genius.

No, my friend.

In three weeks I'm going to England where I can work.