Hold, hold on to your hat.
Fold, fold your hands in your lap.
As the winds die down
There’ll be no more dark clouds blowin’ in from the past.
— Kay Rose, “The old oak tree.”
Hold, hold on to your hat.
Fold, fold your hands in your lap.
As the winds die down
There’ll be no more dark clouds blowin’ in from the past.
— Kay Rose, “The old oak tree.”
