What Moments Divine , What Rapture Serene.

Every Time I Look Down On This Timeless Town Whether Blue Or Gray Be Her Skies. Whether Loud Be Her Cheers Or Soft Be Her Tears, More And More Do I Realize: I Love Paris In The Springtime. I Love Paris In The Fall. I Love Paris In The Winter When It Drizzles, I Love Paris In The Summer When It Sizzles. I Love Paris Every Moment, Every Moment Of The Year. I Love Paris, Why, Oh Why Do I Love Paris? Because My Love Is Near.

Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? I Don't.

Sad Times May Follow Your Tracks, Bad Times May Bar You From Saks, Add Times When Satan In Slacks Breaks Down Your Self Control.

Good Authors, Too, Who Once Knew Better Words Now Only Use Four-letter Words Writing Prose... Anything Goes.

I Don't Know Anyone Who Sits Down To Write A Song Hit Except Irving Berlin. He Can't Help Writing Hits.