Friends, my heart is half awearyOf its happiness to-night:Though your songs are gay and cheery,And your spirits feather-light,There's a ghostly music hauntingStill the heart of every guestAnd a voiceless chorus chantingThat the Old Times were the best.CHORUSAll about is bright and pleasantWith the sound of song and jest,Yet a feeling's ever presentThat the Old Times were the best.
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