Come over to the window, my little darling
I'd like to try to read your palm
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
Before I let you take me home
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
To laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again
Well you know that I love to live with you
But you make me forget so very much
I forget to pray for the angels
And then the angels forget to pray for us
One in five new teachers leaving.
Disappearing contributors - part 2
