Tuesday, August 18, 2020

SOHO STATION--A Trip to Paris or Rome--@ INSTAGRAM

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new vid release, (c) 2020 by JCL@soho/instagram

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Music video release by JCL@soho/instagram, (c) 2020 soho station...

"Trains and Boats and Planes" is a song written by composer Burt Bacharach and lyricist Hal David, and first recorded in 1965. Hit versions were recorded by Bacharach and by Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas in 1965, and by Dionne Warwick in 1966. (Wikipedia)


The Majorette,   (c) 2020 JC L'Angelle @ EOC

They crowd the street behind a barricade, to watch the band in the passing parade;
up front is the one they won't forget, leading the band is the majorette.

Old men have escaped from geriatric wards, hope to take her away in their model-T Fords;
The kids with their moms have been waiting since dawn, to watch the cadet spin her baton.

She follows behind the color guard, as they march up the boulevard;
Lined up like so many dominos, the band passes in perfect rows.

Her uniform made of braids and lace, at the front of the band she sets the pace; The percussion section is all thumbs, as she marches to the beat of their drums.

Sitting up high in the review stand, the mayor's friends all cheer the band; as a reporter from the Gazette, takes cellphone pics of the majorette.

A bugler with a mask that's worn, makes impossible for him to blow his horn; a bum in an alley sleeping in trash, jumps to his feet when the cymbals crash!

just who is this pretty cadet, this precision girl, this majorette; who spins and twirls the baton in her hand, choreographing the marching band.

She's what every young lady wants to be, in front of the band where all can see; The band follows wherever she goes, from the football games to the rodeos.

The band is in order by rank and file, in close order drill military style; Playing every song in the alphabet following orders of the majorette.

Where would we be if there were no parades, full of bands and motorcades; no balloons, confetti or glitzy floats, no politicians with anecdotes.

The street would be one long delivery truck, the alleys full of bums down on their luck;
and the hospitals full of old war vets; if there were no parades or cadets.

Let's hope we'll never be afraid, of seeing the last of the parade; and the one up front we'll never forget, the baton spinning majorette.

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