There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest part, So just give me a happy middle And a very happy start.

No teacher, preacher, parent, friend, or wise man can decide what's right for you.

But all the magic I have known I've had to make myself.

I will not play at tug o' war, I'd rather play at hug o' war

Oh I'm lookin' for my missin' piece I'm lookin' for my missin' piece Hi-dee-ho, here I go, Lookin' for my missin' piece

There is a place where the sidewalk ends, And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind.

An oak tree and a rosebush grew, Young and green together, Talking the talk of growing things- Wind and water and weather. And while the rosebush sweetly bloomed The oak tree grew so high That now it spoke of newer things- Eagles, mountain peaks and sky. "I guess you think you're pretty great," The rose was heard to cry, Screaming as loud as it possibly could To the treetop in the sky. "And now you have no time for flower talk, Now that you've grown so tall." "It's not so much that I've grown," said the tree, "It's just that you've stayed so small.