He Will Kill Mice And

There Is Sorrow Enough In The Natural Way From Men And Woman To Fill Our Day; But When We Are Certain Of Sorrow In Store, Why Do We Always Arrange For More? Brothers & Sisters, I Bid You Beware Of Giving Your Heart To A Dog To Tear.

I Wasted My Substance, I Know I Did, On Riotous Living, So I Did, But There's Nothing On Record To Show I Did More Than My Betters Have Done.

Call A Truce, Then, To Our Labors - Let Us Feast With Friends And Neighbors, And Be Merry As The Custom Of Our Caste; For If ''faint And Forced The Laughter,'' And If Sadness Follow After, We Are Richer By One Mocking Christmas Past.

They Copied All They Could Copy, But They Couldn't Copy My Mind; And I Left Them Sweatin' And Stealin', A Year And A Half Behind.

Single Men In Barricks Don't Grow Into Plaster Saints.