The Flower Drum Song

 You must listen to this lovely tune and follow the lyrics if you can.

The sweet and demure Miyoshi Umeki sang so beautifully and touched hearts.

This song though many, many decades old is still relevant as it gives hope to those who hear it;

A hundred million miracles are happening everyday.

 

 My father says that children keep growing,
Rivers keep flowing too.
My father says he doesn't know why,
But somehow or other they do.
--They do! some how or other they do.--

A hundred million miracles,
A hundred million miracles are happ'ning ev'ry day,
And those who say they don't agree
Are those who do not hear or see.
A hundred million miracles,
A hundred million miracles are happ'ning ev'ry day,

--Miracle of changing weather:--
When a dark blue curtain is pinned by the stars,
Pinned by the stars to the sky,
Ev'ry flow'r and tree is a treat to see,
The air is very clean and dry.

Then a wind comes blowing the pins all away,
Night is confused and upset!
The sky falls down like a clumsy clown,
The flowers and the trees get wet.--Very wet!--

A hundred million miracles,
A hundred million miracles are happ'ning ev'ry day,
And when the wind shall turn his face,
The pins are put right back in place!
A hundred million miracles,
A hundred million miracles are happ'ning ev'ry day!

In ev'ry single minute so much is going on,
Along the Yangtse Kiang or the Tiber or the Don.
A hundred million miracles!

A swallow in Tasmania is sitting on her eggs,
And suddenly those eggs have wings and eyes and beaks and legs!
A hundred million miracles!

A little girl in Chungking, just thirty inches tall,
Decides that she will try to walk and nearly doesn't fall!
A hundred million miracles!

A hundred million miracles, a hundred million miracles,
A hundred million miracles are happ'ning ev'ry day!

My father says the sun will keep rising over the eastern hill.
My father says he doesn't know why but somehow or other it will.
--It will! somehow or other it will.--

(Reprise)
--Miracle of making music:--
When an idle poet puts words on a page,
Writes on a page with his brush,
A musical friend writes the notes to blend
Suggested by an idle thrush.

Then a young soprano reads what they wrote,
Learns every note, every word,
Puts all they wrote in her lovely throat,
And suddenly a song is heard!
--Very Pretty!--

A hundred million miracles, a hundred million miracles,
A hundred million miracles are happ'ning ev'ry day!

And, and, and... you must, you must, you must listen to the next one ; 'Chap Suey'.

It will leave your spirits high.