The Swan, Like The Soul Of The

The Night Comes Stealing O'er Me, And Clouds Are On The Sea; While The Wavelets Rustle Before Me With A Mystical Melody.

At Dresden On The Elbe, That Handsome City, Where Straw Hats, Verses, And Cigars Are Made, They've Built (it Well May Make Us Feel Afraid,) A Music Club And Music Warehouse Pretty.

Never Let A Fool Kiss You, Or A Kiss Fool You. Oh, What Lies There Are In Kisses!

A Pine Tree Standeth Lonely In The North On An Upland Bare; It Standeth Whitely Shrouded With Snow, And Sleepeth There. It Dreameth Of A Palm Tree Which Far In The East Alone, In The Mournful Silence Standeth On Its Ridge Of Burning Stone.

Freedom Is A New Religion, The Religion Of Our Time.