The Lord made Adam, the Lord made Eve, he made ‘em both a little bit naive. - Yip Harburg

My heart is like the willow That bends, but never breaks. It sighs when summer jilts her, It sings when April wakes. So you, who come a-smiling With summer in your eyes, Think not that your beguiling Will take me by surprise. My heart's prepared for aching The moment you take wing. But not, my friend, for breaking While there's another spring.

So I ask each weepin' willow And each brook along the way, And each lad that comes a-whistlin' Tooralay How are things in Glocca Morra This fine day?

You’re out of the woods You’re out of the dark You’re out of the night Step into the sun, step into the light, Keep straight ahead For the most glorious place On the Face of the Earth Or the sky. Hold onto your breath Hold onto your heart Hold onto your hope, March up to the gate And bid it open.