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Don’t tell me not to live, Just sit and putter, Life’s candy and the sun’s A ball of butter. Don’t bring around a cloud To rain on my parade. Don’t tell me not to fly-- I’ve simply got to. If someone takes a spill, It’s me and not you. Who told you you’re allowed To rain on my parade! I’ll march my band out, I’ll beat my drum, And if I’m fanned out, Your turn at bat, sir. At least I didn’t fake it. Hat, sir, I guess I didn’t make it! But whether I’m the rose Of sheer perfection, Or freckle on the nose Of life’s complexion, The cinder or the shiny apple of it’s eye, I gotta fly once, I gotta try once, Only can die once, right, sir? Ooh, love is juicy, Juicy, and you see I gotta have my bite, sir! Get ready for me, love, ’cause I’m a comer, I simply gotta march, My heart’s a drummer. Don’t bring around a cloud To rain on my parade!
