I’ve got plenty to be thankful for
I haven’t got great big yacht
To sail from shore to shore
Still I’ve got plenty to be thankful for
Let’s say it with firecrackers
And banners held high
Let’s have a real old-fashioned noisy Fourth of July
I could say that you’re homely
Just as homely as pie
But this is Washington’s birthday
And I’ve got to say you’re beautiful
‘Cause I can’t tell a lie
Be careful, it’s my heart
It’s not my watch you’re holding, it’s my heart
It’s not the note I sent you
That you quickly burned
It’s not the book I lent you
That you never returned
Remember, it’s my heart
[Editor’s note: Abraham is a celebration of Abraham Lincoln‘s birthday — and several of the performers are in blackface, to represent freed slaves. If you’re offended … you’ve been warned. Bear in mind that this is using 1942’s sensibilities, not 21st century’s attitudes.]
Upon a February morn
A tiny baby boy was born
Abraham, Abraham
Happy holiday, happy holiday
While the merry bells keep ringing
May your every wish come true
I could dance nightly
Just holding you tightly, my sweet
I could keep right on
Because you’re so light on your feet
You’re easy to dance with
Here she comes, down the street
My, oh my, ain’t she sweet?
Why, here comes my hot toddy
Over my dead body
Constantly I looked for you,
No day or two, but constantly!
Constantly I wished you near,
And now you’re here, so close to me!
Ain’t got a dime to my name,
What a terrible shame
Ho Hum, ho ho Hum.