He waves his hands, conducting, and singing. The piano starts a vamp, the drums uncertainly join in. A clarinet starts to play "Pop Goes the Weasel," and soon the rest of the orchestra is playing that. They look to Pentangeli for approval. Disgusted, he goes back to his table, eating a handful of canapes.
>> The Godfather: Part II 教父2 1974 Movie Script

You keep singing that song, they'll break your heads, that's what.
>> 1900 Movie Script

They are singing again, but this time the song is in Chinese!
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script

ANGLE ON THE ROOM As the song the disciples have been singing in the fields blasts out. Immediately, the disciples start moving with the music, and suddenly the Party is happening.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script

They are all singing "Chain Gang".
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script

ANGLE ON DREW, BIRDS ALL AROUND HIM The birds are keeping him company, and they are singing for him.
>> 花旗小和尚 American Shaolin (1992) Movie Script

She sat silently, not watching, while July sat just as silently. He could not help but wish that Dish Boggett had got lost in Wyoming or had somehow gone on to Texas. Hardly a day passed without him seeing what he thought were signs that Clara was taken with the man. Sooner or later, when Dish gave up on Lorena, he would be bound to notice. July felt helpless—there was nothing he could do about it. Sometimes he sat near Lorena, feeling that he had more in common with her than with anyone else at the ranch. She loved a dead man, he a woman who hardly noticed him. But whatever they had in common didn’t cause Lorena to so much as look his way. Lorena looked more beautiful than ever, but it was a grave beauty since news of the death had come. Only the young girl, Betsey, who loved Lorena completely, could occasionally bring a spark of life to her eyes. If Betsey was ill, Lorena nursed her tirelessly, taking her into her own bed and singing to her. They read stories together, Betsey doing the reading. Lorena could only piece out a few words—the sisters planned to teach her reading, but knew it would have to wait until she felt better.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Then it grew dark, and he wanted to cry with disappointment. He had walked long enough—surely it was time the boys showed up. Once it was full dark, he stopped and listened. He felt the herd might be close, and if he listened maybe he would hear the Irishman singing. He heard no singing, but when he got up and tried to stumble on, he felt the presence of his guide again. This time he knew it was Deets. He couldn’t see him because it was dark, and of course Deets was dark, but he lost the floating feeling and walked easier, though he was a little scared. He didn’t know what the rules were with people who were dead. He would have liked to say something but felt he shouldn’t. Deets might go away and leave him to stumble along in the dark if he said anything. Maybe travel was no trouble for the dead—Pea didn’t know. It was a considerable trouble for him. He walked slow, for he didn’t like to fall, but he walked on all night.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

That afternoon July came back with a minister. The two nearest neighbors came—German families. Clara had seen more of the men than of the women—the men would come to buy horses and stay for a meal. She almost regretted having notified them. Why should they interrupt their work just to see Bob put in the ground? They sang two hymns, the Germans singing loudly in poor English. Mrs. Jensch, the wife of one of the German farmers, weighed over three hundred pounds. The girls had a hard time not staring at her. The buggy she rode in tilted far to one side under her weight. The minister was invited to stay the night and got rather drunk after supper—he was known to drink too much, when he got the chance. His name was the Reverend Spinnow and he had a large purple birthmark under one ear. A widower, he was easily excited by the presence of women. He was writing a book on prophecy and rattled on about it as they all sat in the living room. Soon both Clara and Lorena felt like choking him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Deets felt it was mainly his fault, since it was his job to watch for Indian sign. He had always had a good ear for Indians, but he had sat by the wagon, listening to the singing, and had heard nothing.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Well, you boys was singing opry loud enough to wake the deaf,” Augustus remarked. “I guess it was just their charity that they didn’t take the whole herd. Nobody would have noticed.” Call was vexed. He had been awake almost all night and had had no suspicion of Indians. All his years of trying to stay prepared hadn’t helped. “They must have been good with horses,” he said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Call slept a distance out of camp, as was his habit. He knew the men were in a good mood, for he could hear them singing most of the night. Now that he had the leisure to sleep, he found he couldn’t, much. He had always thought his energies equal to any situation, but he had begun to have doubts. A tiredness clung to his bones, but not a tiredness that produced sleep. He felt played out, and wished they were already in Montana. There were only a few hundred miles left, but it seemed farther to him than all the distance they had come.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I think it must be a fine gift, singing,” he said. “If I could sing like the Irishman, I would just ride around singing all day. I might get a job in a barroom, like Lippy used to have.” Lorena didn’t want to talk to him. She hated the way she felt. Better if something happens and kills us both, she thought.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Can’t you even hum?” Clara asked, as if it were a crime that he had not immediately started singing.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I wish we’d brought a bathtub on this trip,” Augustus said, grinning. “I’m so dirty it’s like kissing a groundhog.” Later, he went to the chuck wagon and brought back some supper. They ate outside the tent. In the distance the Irishman was singing. Gus told her about Jake, but Lorena felt little. Jake hadn’t come to find her. For days she had hoped he would, but when he didn’t, and her hope died, the memory of Jake died with it. When she listened to Gus talk about him it was as if he were talking about a man she hadn’t known. She had a stronger memory of Xavier Wanz. Sometimes she dreamed of Xavier, standing with his dishrag in the Dry Bean. She remembered how he had cried the morning she left, how he’d offered to take her to Galveston.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Not today,” Augustus said. “Today she’s feeling sulky. If I was you I’d sing to her.” “Sing to Lorie?” Dish said, incredulous. “Why, I’d be so scared I’d choke.” “Well, if you require timid women there’s not much I can do for you,” Augustus said. “Just keep a good guard at night andsee she don’t get kidnapped.” Call hated to leave the herd, and most of the cowboys hated it that he was leaving. Though it was midsummer, the skies clear, and the plains seemingly peaceful, most of the hands looked worried as the little group prepared to leave. They sat around worrying, all but Po Campo, who was singing quietly in his raspy voice as he made supper. Even Lippy was unnerved. He was modest in some matters and had just returned from walking a mile, in order to relieve his bowels in private.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Call heard little of the talk or the singing, for he continued to make his camp apart. He thought it best. If the herd ran, he would be in a better position to head it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Even on a nice clear night the sad singing and the knowledge that there were no ladies was enough to make the men feel low. They ended up talking of their sisters, those that had them, most nights.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

But they didn’t have a fiddle—just Po Campo shaking his rattle and the Irishman singing of girls.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

July found them an hour later, already stiff in death. He had raced as fast as he could over the rough country, not wanting to take the time to follow the river itself but too unsure of his position to go very far from it. From time to time he stopped, listening for shots, but the dark plains were quiet and peaceful, though it was on them that he had just seen the most violent and terrible things he had ever witnessed in his life. The only sound he heard was the wind singing over the empty miles of grass; in the spring night the wind sang gently.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇