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There is something old
There is nothing new
In the hate that you borrowed
That makes us all blue
To have and to hold
Till it's nothing new
No gaiety and no sorrow
It's a twisted sorta view
I was once told--
but won't I marry Muh
in a field of Laural?--
I was once told
I will find my Lou
Fifty years to mold
She said it was too few
A strong silver widow
Whose love was true
She could sing Isolde
He saw Iraq's zoo
He fights the war immoral
And they each will say, "I do."
Valentines to fold
Half a heart's a teardrop
No Venice nor Verona
But I will,
I will find my Lou
Girls with their goat boys
Two with cigarettes
Some have love and some sorrow
Marriage is no cure, just a promise
She yelled, "Old! New!
Borrowed and blue!"
when I woke up next to Jew
Have I found,
Have I found my shoe?
British skies, grey irises
Hold me by the sea
Spin away from skies
In my dream, I married my Lou