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Category: - Artist:Frankie Laine- Contributor:Webmaster
Cry Of The Wild Goose
[Words and Music by Terry Gilkyson]

Chorus
My heart knows what the wild goose knows
And I must go where the wild goose goes
Wild goose, brother goose, which is best
A wanderin' fool or a heart at rest

Tonight I heard the wild goose cry
Hangin' north in the lonely sky
Tried to sleep, it warn't no use
'Cause I am a brother to the old wild goose

Oh, my heart knows what the wild goose knows
And I must go where the wild goose goes
Wild goose, brother goose, which is best
A wanderin' fool or a heart at rest

Woman was kind and true to me
She thinks she loves me, more fool she
She's got a learn that ain't no use
To love a brother of the old wild goose

Chorus

The cabin is warm and the snow is deep
I got a woman who lies asleep
She'll wake up tomorrow's dawn
She'll find, poor critter, that her man is gone

Oh, my heart knows what the wild goose knows
And I must go where the wild goose goes
Wild goose, brother goose, which is best
A wanderin' fool or a heart at rest
Let me fly, let me fly, let me fly away

Spring is comin' and the ice will break
And I can't linger for a woman's sake
She'll see a shadow pass overhead
She'll find a feather 'side my bed

Chorus
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Pick of the Week
Title:Que Sera, Sera
Artist: Doris Day - Contributor:Webmaster
When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother, "What will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?"
Here's what she said to me:

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be."

When I was just a child in school,
I asked my teacher, "What will I try?
Should I paint pictures"
Should I sing songs?"
This was her wise reply:

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be."

When I grew up and fell in love.
I asked my sweetheart, "What lies ahead?
Will we have rainbows
Day after day?"
Here's what my sweetheart said:

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be."

Now I have Children of my own.
They ask their mother, "What will I be?"
Will I be handsome?
Will I be rich?"
I tell them tenderly:

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.
Que Sera, Sera!"
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