In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.
Thomas Carlyle
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Biên tập viên
All by Myself
I'm so unhappy
What'll I do?
I long for somebody who
Will sympathize with me
I'm growing so tired of living alone
I lie awake all night and cry
Nobody loves me
That's why
All by myself in the morning
All by myself in the night
I sit alone with a table and a chair
So unhappy there
Playing solitaire
All by myself I get lonely
Watching the clock on the shelf
I'd love to rest my weary head on somebody's shoulder
I hate to grow older
All by myself