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| Category: - Artist:Frankie Laine- Contributor:Webmaster | |
| Cry Of The Wild Goose | |
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[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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| 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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