I was born into a household where my aunt, grandmother and mother lived their music. They all sang harmony, and by the time I was 2, I could sing 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat' in three-part harmony.
I start at the beginning, mentally screaming every obscenity I can in alphabetical order. Then I start setting them to the tune of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat
I know, every fighter knows, you've got to pile up wins in a row. You can't lose two in a row, three in a row and then you hear mentions of losing your job.
Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.
Stand-up is like a row boat: it's fun and romantic when you're choosing to do it. But if you have no other choice than to be in a row boat it's not as enjoyable; that's survival.
On good days, I've done bubbles with as many as 38 faces - a row of pentagons, a row of hexagons, and another row of pentagons on bottom.
When I came here it wasn't that I was anti-Music Row, but it was like I was going against the grain of what everybody on Music Row was doing, and that's what has made me successful.
Championship caliber teams don't lose two in a row and they damn sure don't lose three in a row.
It was noted long ago that the front row of burlesque houses was occupied predominantly by bald-headed men. In fact, such a row became known as the bald-headed row. It might be assumed from this on statistical evidence that the continued close observation of chorus girls in tights caused loss of hair from the top of the head.
I want the dude in the top row to feel like he's down there on the front row in a club.
If I could only remember that the days were not bricks to be laid row on row, to be built into a solid house, where one might dwell in safety and peace, but only food for the fires of the heart.
If I could only remember that the days were, not bricks to be laid row on row, to be built into a solid house, where one might dwell in safety and peace, but only food for the fires of the heart.
Bullfight critics row on row Fill the enormous Plaza de toros But only one is there who knows And he is the one who fights the bull.
Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself, Counting this row and that row of moccasins Waiting on the silent shelf.
Row after row with strict impunity
The headstones yield their names to the element,
The wind whirrs without recollection.
In our family, we don't have rifts. We have a jolly good row and then it's all over. And I've only twice ever had a row with my sister.
My two sisters and I sang all the time. Whenever we cleaned the kitchen, we sang in three-part harmony.