That old master painter from the faraway hills painted the violets

boat rides we would takeThe moonlight on the lakeThe

Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other

And now the sun has broken throughIt looks like it will

can you say something new about being aloneTell somebody

in the night exchanging glancesWondering in the night, what

life (That's life), that's what all the people sayYou're

Biltmore garage wants a grandBut we ain't got a grand

Christmas)(Merry Christmas)(May your every New Year dream come

What is there to write? What is there to say?Same things

come all ye faithfulJoyful and triumphantOh, come ye, oh,

love you a bushel and a peckA bushel

it says here in this average unmarried femaleBasically

Oh, they say some people long agoWere searching for a different

Some time ago, I wandered down into old MexicoWhile I was

My thoughts may strayMy eyes may roamThe neighbor's grass may seem

I, I who have nothingI, I who have no one, adore

It's the wrong time and the wrong placeThough your face is

never been in love beforeNow all at once it's

Jesus is a rock in the weary land, the weary land,