Yippee for Yip!

Today is the birthday of my favorite song lyricist of all time, Edgar Yipsel “Yip” Harburg. (Ranked right under him for me are Lorenz Hart and Carolyn Leigh. And Cole Porter comes close.) In honor of the day, I want to post some fragments from his lyrics, in that uniquely Harburgian voice that no one has ever matched:

Out of your embrace,
The world is a temporary parking-place.

The wind may blow,
The hurricane whip up the sky,
The vine go bare,
The leaf go dry,
But when you smile at me,
Spring tumble out of the tree.

Even the rabbits
Inhibit their habits
On Sunday in Cicero Falls.

Life is short, short, brother—
Ain’t it the truth!
And there is no other—
Ain’t it the truth!
So, if you don’t like livin’,
Then you’re slightly uncouth—
Ain’t it the dignified truth!

My feet want to dance in the sun,
My head wants to rest in the shade,
The Lord says, “Go out and have fun,”
But the landlord says, “Your rent ain’t paid.”

I got a railroad and a woman
And a freedom song—
Gotta sing ’em while you’re livin’
’Cause you’re dead so long.

When I see your smile with its sunshine,
What is there to say?
I don’t think—oh, no, I don’t think—
I’ll end it all today!

“I’d unravel ev’ry riddle
For any individdle
In trouble or in pain.”

“With the thoughts you’d be thinkin’,
You could be another Lincoln
If you only had a brain.”

Don’t get smart-alecksy
Wid de galaxy.

On account there’s no accountin’
When you can’t have the one you like,
All your troubles keep on mountin’
And the world is on a sit-down strike.

Ever since that day
When the world was an onion,
’Twas natch’ral for the spirit
To soar and play—
The way the Lawd a-wanted it!

And, of course, from his most famous lyric:Never was a lyricist like him before and never will be again. Happy Birthday, Yip.