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Barbara Cook

Barbara Cook

Errol Flynn

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Оригинален текст

"In the hall on the wall in a house in Receda"
Is a poster held up by two nails and a pinIt's my daddy the actor 'bout to die with his boots onHe's the man standing up there beside Errol FlynnHe got third or fourth billing at the end of each picture"That don't mean much," he would say with a grinBut he held my hand tight as he pointed his name outOnly four or five names down below Errol FlynnNow fame, it is fleeting, and stars, they keep fallingAnd stayin' right up there, that's the business of artAnd luck kisses some while she passes by othersDisappointment and bourbon are hard on the heartNow the women and beers and the years with old ErrolThey took their toll and took me from his sideI kissed him goodbye at the old Union stationThat's the last time I saw him, the last time I criedNow I'm sitting alone in a house in RecedaWatching the late show as moonlight shines inAnd up on the screen, well, here comes my daddyIt's a sad, funny feeling, now I'm older than himSo you daddies and daughters, you sons and you mothersRemember life's over before it beginsSo love one another, and stand close togetherAs close as my dad did to old Errol Flynn

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