There's a story told of a little Japanese. Sitting demurely 'neath the cherry blossom trees. Miss Butterfly's her name. A sweet little innocent child was she. 'Till a fine young American from the
It was just one of those things. Just one of those, crazy things. One of those bells,. That now and then rings. Just one of those things. It was just one of those night. Just one of those, fabul