Summertime and the livin' is easy Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high Your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin' So hush, little baby, don't you cry
"Were I to use the wits the good Spirits gave me, Then I would say this lady cannot exist. For what sane man would hold a dream to be reality. Yet rather would I not be sane And lend belief to charmed, enchanted eyes."