People are queer, they're always crowing, scrambling and rushing about
Why don't they stop someday, address themselves this way?
Why are we here? Where are we going? It's time that we found out
We're not here to stay; we're on a short holiday
Life is just a bowl of cherries
Don't take it serious; it's too mysterious
You work, you save, you worry so
But you can't take your dough when you go, go, go
So keep repeating it's the berries
where
someday
short
thousands
serious
scrambling
things
rushing
repeating
queer
dough
crooning
themselves
loaned
crowing
always
laugh
state
berries
sweet
girls
about
empire
worry
holiday
building
people
address
admit
strongest
never
eight
plunge
cherries
found
going
morning
mysterious
owned
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