It'is Like A Book, I Think, This

There Rise Her Timeless Capitals Of Empires Daily Born, Whose Plinths Are Laid At Midnight And Whose Streets Are Packed At Morn; And Here Come Tired Youths And Maids That Feign To Love Or Sin In Tones Like Rusty Razor Blades To Tunes Like Smitten Tin.

They Shut The Road Through The Woods Seventy Years Ago. Weather And Rain Have Undone It Again, And Now You Would Never Know There Was Once A Road Through The Woods

However The World Pretends To Divide Itself, There Are Only Two Divisions In The World Today - Human Beings And Germans.

Follow The Dream, And Always The Dream, And Only The Dream.

If You Can Force Your Heart And Nerve And Sinew To Serve Your Turn Long After They Are Gone, And So Hold On When There Is Nothing In You Except The Will Which Says To Them: 'hold On!'