the Ballad of Harry Lewis - Allan Sherman

I’m singing you the ballad

Of a great man of the cloth

His name was Harry Lewis

And he worked for Irving Roth

He died while cutting velvet

On a hot July the 4th

But his cloth goes shining on

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

His cloth goes shining on

Oh Harry Lewis perished

In the service of his Lord

He was trampling through the warehouse

Where the drapes of Roth are stored

He had the finest funeral

The union could afford

And his cloth goes shining on

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

His cloth goes shining on

Although a fire was raging

Harry stood by his machine

And when the firemen broke in

They discovered him between

A pile of roasted Dacron

And some french fried gabardine

His cloth goes shining on

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

Glory, glory Harry Lewis

His cloth goes shining on

Je te chante la ballade

D'un grand homme de l'étoffe

Il s'appelait Harry Lewis

Et il a travaillé pour Irving Roth

Il est mort en coupant du velours

Par un chaud 4 juillet

Mais son tissu continue de briller

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Son tissu brille

Oh Harry Lewis a péri

Au service de son Seigneur

Il piétinait l'entrepôt

Où sont stockés les rideaux de Roth

Il a eu les plus beaux funérailles

Le syndicat pouvait se permettre

Et son vêtement brille

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Son tissu brille

Même si un incendie faisait rage

Harry se tenait près de sa machine

Et quand les pompiers ont fait irruption

Ils l'ont découvert entre

Un tas de Dacron rôti

Et de la gabardine frite

Son tissu brille

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Gloire, gloire Harry Lewis

Son tissu brille