To speak ill of others is a dishonest way of praising ourselves. Nothing is often a good thing to say, and always a clever thing to say.
MAYBE WE WON`T MEET AGAIN
. . . she got a postcard in the mail
That just said Heaven,with a picture of the ocean and the beach
The simple words he wrote her
Said he loved her
How he'd hold her if his arms would reach
Wish you were here, wish you could see this place
Wish you were near,Wish I could touch your face
The weather's nice, it's paradise
It's summertime all year and there's some folks we know
They say, "Hello, "
I miss you so, wish you were here"
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