Some Folks
by Stephen Collins Foster (1855)
Some folks like to sigh,
Some folks do;
Some folks long to die,
But that's not me nor you.
Long live the merry, merry heart
That laughs by night and day,
Like the Queen of Mirth,
No matter what some folks say.
Some folks fear to smile,
Some folks do;
Others laugh through guile,
But that's not me nor you.
Long live the merry, merry heart
That laughs by night and day,
Like the Queen of Mirth,
No matter what some folks say.
Some folks fret and scold,
Some folks do;
They'll soon be dead and cold,
But that's not me nor you.
Long live the merry, merry heart
That laughs by night and day,
Like the Queen of Mirth,
No matter what some folks say.
Some folks get gray hairs,
Some folks do;
Brooding o'er their cares,
But that's not me nor you.
Long live the merry, merry heart
That laughs by night and day,
Like the Queen of Mirth,
No matter what some folks say.
Some folks toil and save,
Some folks do;
To buy themselves a grave,
But that's not me nor you.
Long live the merry, merry heart
That laughs by night and day,
Like the Queen of Mirth,
No matter what some folks say.
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