Mr. DuBois, you are a rehearsal accompanist. I do not pay you for your musical interpretation.' The impresario marched down the aisle and stood in the middle like the commander of a mutinying ship.
'No, Mr. Ziegfeld. I'm not. I'm a songwriter. My songs are a damn sight better than this garbage.'
One of the midwestern chorus girls gasped.
'Forgive my language,' Henry added.
'No, Mr. Ziegfeld. I'm not. I'm a songwriter. My songs are a damn sight better than this garbage.'
One of the midwestern chorus girls gasped.
'Forgive my language,' Henry added.
( Libba Bray )
[ Lair of Dreams ]
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