You've Got To Be Taught To Hate

Oklahoma Where The Wind Comes Sweepin' Down The Plain.

It Is A Modern Tragedy That Despair Has So Many Spokesmen, And Hope So Few.

I'm As Corny As Kansas In August.

Some Enchanted Evening, You May See A Stranger Across A Crowded Room.

The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of Music, With Songs They Have Sung For A Thousand Years.