If I've got a talent, it's for picking the right song at the right time for the right audience. And I can always seem to get people to sing with me.
To everything (turn, turn, turn) There is a season (turn, turn, turn) And a time for every purpose under heaven.
A time to gain, a time to lose A time to rend, a time to sew A time of love, a time of hate A time of peace... I swear it's not too late.
Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing? Where have all the flowers gone, long time ago? Where have all the flowers gone? Young girls have picked them everyone. Oh, when will they ever learn?
Every time I read the paper those old feelings come on. We are waist deep in the Big Muddy and the big fool says to push on.