Monday, September 24, 2007
“When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother What will I be?
Will I be pretty?Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me:
Que sera, sera.
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera.
What will be, will be.
When I grew up and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart What lies ahead?
Will we have rainbowsDay after day?
Here's what my sweetheart said:
Que sera, sera.
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera.
What will be, will be.
Now I have children of my own.
They ask their mother,
What will I be?
Will I be handsome?Will I be rich?
I tell them tenderly:
Que sera, sera.
Whatever will be, will be.
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera.
What will be, will be.
Que sera, sera.”
Some time it really keeps me thinking what will become of me...
[Too much to say too hard to put into words]
@ 11:36 PM
