Chorus

All winter, Frank sang in the chorus. He hated it, because he couldn't really sing the tenor parts, but as a short, slight fellow, he was always forced to be a tenor. Only the hope of being able to sing bass kept him going.

I never remember the chorus:

In a bar in Toledo
Across from the depot
on a bar stool she took off her ring
I thought I'd get closer
So I walked on over
I sat down and asked her her name
When the drinks finally hit her
She said I'm no quitter
I've finally stopped living no dreams
I'm hungry for laughter
And here ever after
I'm after whatever the after life brings.

I sing in a chorus with four sections. But I try not to get stuck in any one section, I try to sing all the parts, moving around as often as I can. It'd be easier if I had the range of Yma Sumac instead of just almost having the range of Yma Sumac...

It's probable that this nervous habit of movement (or is it ego) of mine, drives some of my fellow singers crazy. The director tries to be tactful about it. »I think it sounds better if you stay on your own part for this piece,« she says, now and again.

Do not feel alone. I can hear you above the din of the chant of the human race.

Frank sang tenor in the Chorus all winter, but come springtime, he sang baritone.

Oh, we're the boys of the chorus,
We hope you like our show.
We know you're rootin' for us,
But now we have to go!