A popular song from 1929.
Words by Jack Yellen.
Music by Milton Ager and Henry Lodge.
Sheet music provided by Laurence Rubenstein:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
- There’s a chap I’m sorry for
One there’s very little glory for
He’s the one who writes the song words
And inter-rhymes the long words
Tho’ his work is insignificant
His composer hollers if he can’t
Write the kind of lyrics
That bring the critics’ panegyrics
But what’s the diff’rence anyway
When we hear people saying every day
Chorus
Pretty little tune! How does it go?
Pup-a-dup-a-da, that’s all I know
Isn’t it too bad I can’t remember the words?
Simple thing to sing, made quite a hit
Pup-a-dup-a-da, that isn’t it
Isn’t it too bad I can’t remember the words?
Tho they’ve been strummed and drummed and hummed to me
I extremely regret, they’ve slipped my mind
But wait! they’ll come to me yet
Pup-a-dup I forget
Just a moment now, I had it then
Pup-a-dup-a-da, lost it again
Isn’t it too bad I can’t remember the words?
- I am not Wagnerian
Music’ly I’m proletarian
Count me with the lowly humans
Who choose Gershwin and Youmans
It is only by a miracle
I retain a line that’s lyrical
By Wodehouse or Hooker
Beside the lines of some good-looker
But what’s the diff’rence anyway
When we hear people saying every day
Sung here by Fred Feild: