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 s
"The Harold Song". I miss your soft lips, I miss your white sheets. I miss the scratch of your unshaved face on my cheek. And this is so hard 'cause I didn't see. That you were the love of my life
"The Harold Song". I miss your soft lips, I miss your white sheets. I miss the scratch of your unshaved face on my cheek. And this is so hard 'cause I didn't see. That you were the love of my life
Harold Dorman - Mountain of Love. . Standin' on a mountain lookin' down on a city. The way I feel is a doggone pity. Teardrops fallin' down the mountainside. Many times I've been here, and many