He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.

And will 'a not come again?
And will 'a not come again?
No, no, he is dead,
Go to thy death bed:
He will never come again.

Everyday has been sort of depressing.

The bill Congress sent me would take away one of the most valuable tools in the war on terror...so today I vetoed it

...whether the people are happy or not in their lives, they have learned to keep steadily moving, moving all the time.