Is it an earthquake or simply a shock?. Is it the good turtle soup or merely the mock?. Is it a cocktail, this feeling of joy?. Or is what i feel the real McCoy?.
In the still of the night. As I gaze out of my window. At the moon in it's flight. My thoughts all stray, stray to you. . In the still of the night. While the world lies in slumber.
It was just one of those things. Just one of those crazy flings. One of those bells that now and then rings. Just one of those things. . It was just one of those nights.
Miss Otis regrets she's unable to lunch today, madam. Miss Otis regrets she's unable to lunch today. She is sorry to be delayed. But last evening down in Lover's Lane.
It was just one of those things. Just one of those crazy flings. One of those bells that now and then rings. Just one of those things. . It was just one of those nights.
When they begin the beguine. It brings back the sound of music so tender. It brings back a night of tropical splendor. It brings back a memory ever green.
I've a beau, his name is Jim, he loves me I love him. But he tells me I'm too prim, that means I'm too slow. I let him rant, I let him rave, I let him muss my permanent wave.
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My story is much too sad to be told. But practically everything leaves me totally cold. The only exception I know is the case. When I'm out on a quiet spree.
I give to you and you give to me. True love, true love. So on and on it will always be. True love, true love. . For you and I have a guardian angel. On high with nothing to do.
I've got you under my skin. I've got you deep in the heart of me. So deep in my heart, you're really a part of me. Baby, under my skin. . I've tried so not to give in.
When the little bluebird. Who has never said a word. Starts to sing Spring. When the little bluebell. At the bottom of the dell. Starts to ring Ding dong Ding dong.
When the little bluebird. Who has never said a word. Starts to sing Spring. When the little bluebell. At the bottom of the dell. Starts to ring Ding dong Ding dong.
Every time I look down on this timeless town. Whether blue or gray be her skies.. Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,. More and more do I realize:.
Every time we say goodbye, I die a little. Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little. Why the gods above me, who must be in the know. think so little of me that they allow you go.
In the still of the night. As I gaze from my window. At the Moon in its flight. My thoughts all stray to you. . In the still of the night. While the world is in slumber.
When they begin the beguine. It brings back the sound of music so tender,. It brings back a night of tropical splendor,. It brings back a memory ever green..
At words poetic, I'm so pathetic. That I always have found it best,. Instead of getting 'em off my chest,. To let 'em rest unexpressed.. I hate parading my serenading.