Who lives, who dies, who tells your story? And when my time is up, have I done enough? (The orphanage) (Will they tell your story?) (Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?) Let me tell you what I wish I’d known When I was young and dreamed of glory

That to me is what your eyes are, Soft as stars in April skies are, Tell me some day you'll fulfill Their promise of a thrill. Flashing eyes in which my hopes rise, Let me show you where my heart lies. Let me prove that it adores That loveliness of yours.

"My father, came from Japan, in 1905 He was fifteen when he, immigrated from Japan He, he, he worked until he was able to buy To actually build a store" Let me tell you a story in the form of a dream I don't know why I have to tell it, but I know what it