How beautiful the days, They come and go..

I hear music Mighty fine music, The murmur of a morning breeze up there The rattle of the milkman on the stair Sure that's music..

A secretary is not a thing Wound by key, pulled by string. Her pad is to write in, And not spend the night in, If that's what you plan to enjoy..

Luck, be a lady tonight..

When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky You can bet that he's doing it for some doll..

Somebody, somewhere Wants me and needs me And that's very wonderful to know..

I string sounds together. But to string them I have to remember a bunch of old ones I heard somewhere and then juggle them into a new rhythm and shap….

A secretary is not a toy..

What I really have a sense of dismay about is that there is a center of anything. I think maybe Cleveland can use one. Also possibly Los Angeles need….

You dogs are smart enough to know that worry is something you do with a bone, and let it got at that. Even Pavlov couldn't do any more than prove tha….

But more I cannot wish you Than to wish you find your love Your own true love this day..

Me, I'm complicated. But it's a living, I tell myself. Also, every once in a long while this disease manages to produce a fine and beautiful truth--a….

Oh! to be loved by a man I respect, To bask in the glow of his perfectly understandable neglect..

Brother, do you know a nicer occupation, Matter of fact, neither do I, Than standing on the corner Watching all the girls go by?.