Get up, Star, if you don't want to sit down. Open the door and let me in. There's a bottle of butter nearby, and you'll get a drink for your wife. >And I hope you don't reject me
In the valleys of loneliness
I am weak and sad
From Sunday to Sunday
I'm fighting my life
'I'm waiting every evening
to see who will come next
And no one in the world will come
and my heart would take
How delightful the bird that rises every day
â鈒阿and rests again on the same tree
No that's for myself – and for my first thousand loves
Our lives are far apart every day
rise up Sir, if you don't want to sit down, open the door and let me in. There's a bottle of butter nearby, and you'll get a drink for your wife. I hope you don't reject me before your day

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