Everything ends with songs.
[Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.]

Everything ends with songs.
[Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.]

The song is ended / But the melody lingers on.

The song is ended / But the melody lingers on.

I learned very early in life that: "Without a song, the day would never end; without a friend, a man read more

I learned very early in life that: "Without a song, the day would never end; without a friend, a man ain't got a friend; without a song, the road would never bend- without a song" So I keep singing a song.

In the ink of our sweat we will find it yet,
The song that is fit for men!

In the ink of our sweat we will find it yet,
The song that is fit for men!

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never read more

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Rumania

There are more love songs than anything else. If songs could make you do something we'd all love one another.

There are more love songs than anything else. If songs could make you do something we'd all love one another.

I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
read more

I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
With sleep-compelling croon;
Yet though I'm filled with music,
As choirs of summer birds,
"I cannot sing the old songs"--
I do not know the words.

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps
read more

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps
Let me be as a tune-swept fiddlestring
That feels the Master Melody--and snaps.

I can not sing the old songs now!
It is not that I deem them low,
'Tis read more

I can not sing the old songs now!
It is not that I deem them low,
'Tis that I can't remember how
They go.