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If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?

Yip Harburg

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Yip Harburg
Age: 84 †
Born: 1896
Born: April 8
Died: 1981
Died: March 5
Composer
Lyricist
Poet
Screenwriter
Songwriter
Edgar Yipsel Yip Harburg
Edgar Yipsel Harburg
E. Y. Harburg
Isidore Hochberg
Beyond
Happy
Bluebirds
Littles
Bluebird
Little
Pilots
Rainbow
Aviation
Flight
Flying

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My heart wants roots My mind wants wings. I cannot bear Their bickerings.
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Ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead.
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No matter how much I prove and prod, I cannot quite believe in God But oh, I hope to God that He, Unswervingly believes in me.
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Leave the atom alone.
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For what we are about to receive, Oh Lord 'tis Thee we thank,' said the cannibal as he cut a slice off the missionary's shank.
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There ought to be a law against necessity.
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Lives of great men all remind us, Greatness takes no easy way, All the heroes of tomorrow, Are the heretics of today. Socrates and Galileo, John Brown, Thoreau, Christ, and Debs, Heard the night cry Down with traitors! And the dawn shout Up the rebs!
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A Russian child asked his mother : does God know we don't believe in Him?
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No matter how high or great the throne, What sits on it is the same as your own.
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As the writer of the lyric of the song 'God's Country,' I am outraged by the suggestion that somehow I am connected with, believe in, or am sympathetic with Communist or totalitarian philosophy.
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How are things in Glocca Mora this fine day?
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The world would be a safer place, If someone had a plan, Before exploring outer space, To find the inner man.
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Follow the yellow brick road.
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The Lord made Adam, the Lord made Eve, he made 'em both a little bit naive.
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April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees.
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Oh, innocent victims of Cupid, remember this terse little verse: To let a fool kiss you is stupid. To let a kiss fool you is worse.
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WHERE and WHEN, Are lost in space. THERE and THEN, Do not embrace. So before we disappear, Come sweet NOW and kiss the HERE.
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Someday I'll wish upon a star.
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Songs are the pulse of a nation's heart. A fever chart of its health.
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I am one of the last of a small tribe of troubadours, who still believe that life is a beautiful and exciting journey with a purpose and grace which are well worth singing about.
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