– Twisted –
music by Wardell Grey, words by Annie Ross, 
rec by Joni Mitchell

My analyst told me that I was right out of my head
The way he described it he said I'd be better dead than live
I didn't listen to his jive
I knew all along that he was all wrong
And I knew that he thought I was crazy
But I'm not, oh no

My analyst told me that I was right out of my head
He said I need treatment but I'm not that easily led
He said I was the type that was most inclined
When out of his sight to be out of my mind
And he thought I was nuts
No more ifs or ands or buts

They say as I child I appeared a little bit wild
With all my crazy ideas, but I knew what was happening
I knew I was a genius 
What's so strange
When you know that you're a wizard at three
I knew that this was meant to be

Now I heard little children were supposed to sleep tight
That's why I got into the vodka one night
My parents got frantic didn't know what to do
But I saw some crazy scenes before I came to
Now do you think I was crazy
I may have been only three, but I was swinging

They all laughed at A. Graham Bell, 
They all laughed at Edison and also at Einstein
So why should I feel sorry
If they just couldn't understand the idiomatic logic
That went on in my head, I had a brain, it was insane
Oh they used to laugh at me when I'd refuse to ride
On all those double-decker busses
All because there was no driver on the top

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– Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing 

Love . . . . . is a many splendored thing
It's the April rose
That only grows in the early spring
Love is nature's way of giving
A reason to be living
The golden crown that makes a man a king

It Might As  Well Be Spring 
Rodgers and Hammerstein
From the 1945 film "State Fair"

I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm,
I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string;
I'd say that I had Spring fever, but I know it isn't Spring.

I am starry-eyed and vaguely discontented,
Like a nightingale without a song to sing;
Oh, why should I have Spring fever, when it isn't even Spring?

(Bridge:)
I keep wishing I were somewhere else,
Walking down a strange new street,
Hearing words that I have never heard
From a girl I've yet to meet.

I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams,
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing;
I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud, or a robin on the wing,
But I feel so gay, in a melancholy way, 
That it might as well be Spring,
It might as well be Spring.



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Twisted cont'd 

My analyst told me that I was right out of my head
But I said dear doctor I think that it's you instead
Because I've got a thing that's unique and new
To prove that I'll have the last laugh on you
'Cause instead of one head I've got two
And you know two heads are better than one

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m Sammy Fain, w Paul Francis Webster,
not exactly from the 1955 movie

Once . . . . . on a high and windy hill
In the morning mist
Two lovers kissed and the world stood still
Then your fingers touched
My silent heart and taught it how to sing
Yes, true love's a many splendored thing
{repeat all, holding "sing," then last line more slowly and heroically}