Bye Bye Birdie

Bye, bye, Birdie

I'm gonna miss you so

Bye, bye, Birdie

Why'd ya have to go

Bye, bye

- No more sunshine

- Sunshine

- It's followed you away

- You away

I'll cry, Birdie

Till you're home to stay

I'll miss the way you smile

as though it's just for me

And each and every night

I'll write you faithfully

Bye, bye, Birdie

It's awful hard to bear

Bye, bye, Birdie

Guess I'll always care

Guess I'll always care

Guess I'll always care

Look! Look! Hey!

We love you, Conrad

Oh, yes, we do

We love you, Conrad

And we'll be true

When you're not near us

We're blue

We're blue

Oh, Conrad, we love you

This is John Daly reporting

with the CBS mobile unit...

in front of

the nation's capitol...

bringing you on-the-spot coverage

of our current teenage crisis...

over the drafting

of Conrad Birdie.

Sociologists agree

that Birdie is a phenomenon.

For those few music lovers who have

never attended one of his concerts...

here are some news photos

tracing his meteoric rise.

And that... that is

our army's newest weapon.

Private Birdie reports

for his induction in ten days.

His income drops

from $2 million a year...

to $78 a month.

It could only happen in America.

Why?

Why did they have to draft him?

Just when I finally write a song

he's gonna do.

The title song

of his next picture.

"Mumbo Jumbo Gooey Gumbo."

Now there's no picture.

There's nothing.

Albert, I have your financial statement,

it you really want to hear it.

"Total assets:
$312.08.

Liabilities:
$4,030."

You...

Contidentially,

you're a fiscal fiasco.

Good-bye, Albert. It's a sad ending

to a long association.

Yeah. Oh, don't you want

to say good-bye to Pidge?

Almaelou's busted, Pidge. You better

get yourself another meal ticket.

In six years

I never sold one lousy song.

Maybe they weren't lousy enough.

I don't care

so much about myself...

but I'm my mother's sole support.

I've wasted every cent

my father left Mama...

It's not your fault. Your mother

wants you to be a songwriter.

You can make a good living

as a biochemist.

That's a wonderful profession,

but Mama wants...

Just because she was

once in vaudeville...

doesn't mean you

belong in show business.

Confidentially, I respect my mother,

but I do what I want.

Well, Mama's sensitive.

When I upset her, she faints.

Why, with your ideas, you can

make a fortune in chemistry.

Chemistry.

Chemistry. Chemistry?

You sound like Rosie.

- Where is she? Where's Rosie?

- Oh, she phoned.

She heard about Birdie being drafted.

She's going to see Ed Sullivan.

Sure, to get another job.

Oh, a fine secretary!

Why, we have been practically engaged,

just waiting for an okay from Mama.

Now when I hit bottom,

Rosie deserts me.

Quits betore my body's even warm.

Ed Sullivan!

Would you send in

Rosie DeLeon, please?

Is it yes, Mr. Sullivan?

It's just got to be yes.

- Rosie, it is yes.

- Oh, hallelujah!

Oh, I love you. Oh, that's marvelous.

Oh, I love you too! I'm so glad!

Miss DeLeon, I'd like you

to meet our producer, Bob Precht.

- Oh, hi. How are you?

- Well, it's my pleasure.

If you can overcome

your shyness, tell me...

what's our using Birdie

on the show got to do with you?

Let's face it,

I'm a scheming woman.

I have a promotion idea

that'll knock you out.

It you buy it,

I want a little favor.

All right.

Let's try it on for size.

How'd you like a terrific buildup

betore the show...

that'll have every TV set

tuned into you next Sunday?

We will have. After all,

we've got the Moscow Ballet and Birdie.

- This is bigger.

- Bigger?

Betore Conrad Birdie

goes into the army...

he bestows a farewell kiss

on all the swooning girls...

who worship him on your TV show.

Atter all, it's only an hour show,

and Birdie only gets four minutes.

He kisses them all symbolically.

- What'd you say?

- Symbolically.

- Actually, he'll only kiss one girl.

- He kisses only one girl?

Can't you see it? Birdie,

their idol, their leader...

kissing one tabulously

lucky teenage Tessie?

- Yeah! Yeah!

- It'll melt every bobby pin in America.

It's gigantic. The newspapers will eat

it up. Think of the advance publicity.

Get the Birdie's

fan club file right away.

- Get us a girl from Ohio.

- Gotcha!

We'll do it from the outdoor theater,

Columbus, Ohio, right after the ballet.

- I'll get the girl.

- The network will handle the details.

And after the kiss,

Birdie sings a big song.

- That's where Rosie gets her payoff.

- I don't get it.

- The song is "One Last Kiss."

- Never heard of it.

- Hasn't been written yet.

- Who is going to write this classic?

Oh, who else, but my future husband,

Mr. Albert F. Peterson?

Birdie's been wanting

to give Albert a break for six years.

I know he'll use the song,

if you say so.

Any song will do even though it's

written by your ever-lovin' Albert.

Thank you, Mr. Sullivan.

With a plug like this, that song

will sell a million records.

- Man, what royalties!

- We can sure use the money.

Any day now Albert and I

will have another mouth to feed.

Rosie, you're not even married yet.

His mother! Bye.

Carmine, get me

the publicity department right away.

This batch will do. Get them

ready for mailing right away.

Oh, hi, Marge. I need

one of your fans trom Ohio.

You can have them all.

Try file number six.

Okay. Six, here we go.

I'm about to make

some gaga little goof a queen.

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