It's Odd Being An American Now. Most

More Than Anything, It's A Game Of Innocence. Politicians May Come And Go, But They Always Get Booed At The Ballpark.

Just Like That. Gone Forever. They Will Not Grow Old Together. They Will Never Live On A Beach By The Sea, Their Hair Turned White, Dancing In A Living Room To Billie Holiday Or Nat Cole. They Will Not Enter A New York Club At Midnight And Show The Poor Hip-hop Fools How To Dance. They Will Not Chuckle Together Over The Endless Folly Of The World, Its Vanities And Stupid Ambitions. They Will Not Hug Each Other In Any Chilly New York Dawn. Oh, Mary Lou. My Baby. My Love.

Writing Is The Hardest Work In The World Not Involving Heavy Lifting.

Frank Sinatra Was The Voice Of The 20th-century American City.

Don't Tell Me About The World. Not Today. It's Springtime And They're Knocking Baseball Around Fields Where The Grass Is Damp And Green In The Morning And The Kids Are Trying To Hit The Curve Ball.