Day in, day out
The same old voodoo follows me about
The same old pounding in my heart
Whenever I think of you and darling, I think of you
Day in and day out
Day out, day in I needn’t tell you how my days begin
When I awake I wake up with a tingle
One possibility in view
That possibility of maybe seeing you
Come rain, come shine
I meet you and to me the day is fine
Then I kiss your lips and the pounding becomes
The oceans roar a thousand drums
Can’t you see it’s love? Can there be any doubt
When there is day in, day out?
Come rain, come shine
I meet you and to me the day is fine
Then I kiss your lips and the pounding becomes
The oceans roar a thousand drums
Can’t you see it’s love? Can there be any doubt
When there is, when there is day in and day out?
Day in, day out, day in, day out
Day in, day out, day in, day out
Day in, day out, day in, day out
A thousand drums
Day in, day out, day out, day out
It’s out there, man
Los Alamos. I worked up with a Dresden, after been owerworked. The rest of the cadavre seems OK. I took a work on the Beach with MAX, ipso est Horkheimer. By the way generals do not like to be told particularly not by some sweet wicecrack out of the eastcoast. There are very few generals in military IQ, we are mostly captains not preoccupied with whom is who, but stir after the what is in the best and most common national interest. Avanti