Groucho And Me by

Author:.
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chorus

"Stay down here where you belong

The folks who live above you don't know right from wrong. To please their kings they've all gone out to war,

And not a one of them knows what he's fighting for.

"'Way up above they say that I'm a Devil, and I'm bad; Kings up there are bigger Devils than your dad;

They're breaking the hearts of mothers,

Making butchers out of brothers;

You'll find more hell up there than there is down below!”

© 1914, Irving Berlin. Copyright renewed 1941.

Many years passed and Berlin became the most famous and popular song writer in the world. A competitor of his bitterly complained that Berlin had used up all the holidays: "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas," "Easter Parade," and so on. Berlin also used up most of the laurels reserved for the nation's most honored song writers.

As time went on, the lyrics and philosophy of his antiwar song embarrassed Berlin, and he never wanted to hear it again. The song had always fascinated me (it would probably take an analyst to explain why), and with the possible but not probable exception of the composer, I became the only man in the United States who remembered both the words and the music. Whenever I was at a party where Berlin was present I'd arrange that at some time during the evening someone would ask me to sing this song. Berlin could never understand this. Here he was, the greatest minstrel of our time, with hundreds of song hits to his credit, and here was his friend Groucho insisting on singing that particular song. Loudly, too, and carefully enunciating each word of this deathless (and, to Berlin, loathsome) lyric.

Many years passed, and ASCAP (American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers), the song writers' Santa Claus, arranged a gigantic musical salute to the "master." Every composer and lyricist in Hollywood was present. All the famous Berlin songs were sung and played by practically the entire ASCAP membership. I had arranged with Harry Ruby, the well-known song writer and sometime friend of mine, to accompany me on one of Berlin's more notable efforts. You'd never guess the title. It was an antiwar song entitled "Stay Down Here Where You Belong."

Berlin isn't a large man, and as the song progressed he seemed to grow even tinier. I suppose it wasn't a very nice thing to do, and I guess it did make him unhappy, for when the party ended Irving walked over to me and said, "Groucho, why do you persist in singing that awful song?"

"Well, Irving," I replied, "it's an antiwar song, and since you wrote it we've only been involved in three different wars. One of them- I don't remember which one-was called `the war to end all wars."'

"Groucho," he said, "I'll make a deal with you. Whenever you feel an irresistible urge to sing this song, communicate with me immediately by phone and I will send you one hundred dollars not to sing it. This," he added, "can be your private ASCAP."

Few more years rolled by.

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