If The Track Is Tough And The

But All The Magic I Have Known I've Had To Make Myself.

He Wasted His Wishes On Wishing.

Let Us Leave This Place Where The Smoke Blows Black And The Dark Street Winds And Bends. Past The Pits Where The Asphalt Flowers Grow We Shall Walk With A Walk That Is Measured And Slow, And Watch Where The Chalk-white Arrows Go To The Place Where The Sidewalk Ends.

One Sister For Sale, One Sister For Sale, One Crying And Spying Young Sister For Sale I'm Really Not Kidding So Who'll Start The Bidding Do I Hear A Dollar? A Nickle? A Penny? Oh Isnt There Isnt There Isnt There Any One Person Who Will Buy This Sister For Sale This Crying Spying Old Young Sister For Sale.

We're All Worth The Same When We Turn Off The Light.