The Mysterious Moment Of Death Proves To

The Old Poets Little Knew What Comfort They Could Be To A Man.

You Never Get Over Bein' A Child Long's You Have A Mother To Go To.

It Seems To Me Like Stealing, For Men And Women To Live In The World And Do Nothing To Make It Better.

Conversation's Got To Have Some Root In The Past, Or Else You've Got To Explain Every Remark You Make, An' It Wears A Person Out.

Your Patience May Have Long To Wait,whether In Little Things Or Great,but All Good Luck, You Soon Will Learn,must Come To Those Who Nobly Earn.who Hunts The Hay-field Overwill Find The Four-leaved Clover.