Instead Of Tug O' War, Let's Play

Oh The Thumb-sucker's Thumb May Look Wrinkled And Wet And Withered, And White As The Snow, But The Taste Of A Thumb Is The Sweetest Taste Yet (as Only We Thumb-sucker's Know).

If There Is A Book You Want To Read But Isn`t Written Yet,write It.

Let Us Leave This Place Where The Smoke Blows Black And The Dark Street Winds And Bends. Past The Pits Where The Asphalt Flowers Grow We Shall Walk With A Walk That Is Measured And Slow, And Watch Where The Chalk-white Arrows Go To The Place Where The Sidewalk Ends.

One Sister For Sale, One Sister For Sale, One Crying And Spying Young Sister For Sale I'm Really Not Kidding So Who'll Start The Bidding Do I Hear A Dollar? A Nickle? A Penny? Oh Isnt There Isnt There Isnt There Any One Person Who Will Buy This Sister For Sale This Crying Spying Old Young Sister For Sale.

Ourchestra: So You Haven't Got A Drum, Just Beat Your Belly. So I Haven't Got A Horn-i'll Play My Nose. So We Haven't Any Cymbals- We'll Just Slap Our Hands Together, And Though There May Be Orchestras That Sound A Little Better With Their Fancy Shiny Instruments That Cost An Awful Lot- Hey, We're Making Music Twice As Good By Playing What We've Got!