An American In Paris - Leonard Bernstein & New York Philharmonic

Like this... On the road for forty days, Last night in little rock put me in a haze. Sweet, sweet connie -- doin her act, She stole the whole show and thats a natural fact. Up all night with freddy king, I got to tell you pokers his thing. A-booze n ladies treat me right, As long as we can make it to the show tonight. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were coming to your town, well help you party it down. Were an american band. Four young chaquitas in omaha, Was waitin for the band to return from the show. Feelin good, feelin right, its saturday night, The hotel detective -- he was out-a-sight. Now, these fine ladies, they had a plan, They was out to hang with me and the band. They said, come on, dudes, lets get it on, And Poison tore that hotel down. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were coming to your town, well help you party it down. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were coming to your town, well help you party it down. Were an american band. Come on C.C. play that thing. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were coming to your town, were gonna party down. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were an american band. Were coming to your town, were gonna party down. Were an american band. Were an american band, ooo-ooo. Were an american band, ooo-ooo. Were an american band, ooo-ooo.

Oh I Wish I Was In The Land Of Cotton Old Times They Are Not Forgotten Look Away, Look Away, Look Away Dixieland Oh I Wish I Was In Dixie, Away, Away In Dixieland I'll Take My Stand To Live And Die In Dixie In Dixieland, Where I Was Born Early Lord One Frosty Morn Look Away, Look Away, Look Away Dixieland Glory, Glory Hallelujah Glory, Glory Hallelujah Glory, Glory Hallelujah His Truth Is Marching On So Hush Little Baby Don't You Cry You Know Your Daddy's Bound To Die But All My Trials Lord Will Soon Be Over Glory, Glory Hallelujah His Truth Is Marching On! His Truth Is Marching On!

Oh, I wish I was in the land of cotton Old things they are not forgotten Look away, look away, look away Dixieland Oh, I wish I was in Dixie, away, away In Dixieland I take my stand to live and die in Dixie 'Cause Dixieland, that's where I was born Early Lord one frosty morning Look away, look away, look away Dixieland Glory, glory hallelujah Glory, glory hallelujah Glory, glory hallelujah His truth is marching on So hush little baby Don't you cry You know your daddy's bound to die But all my trials, Lord, will soon be over Glory, glory hallelujah His truth is marching on His truth is marching on

The Neighborhood - The months before (The opening, half danced half mimed, is a Condensationof the growing rivalry between Two teenage gangs. The Sharks are Puerto Ricans, The Jets an anthology of whatis called 'American'. The Jets want to hold on to their territory And clean out the Sharks in a rumble.)