Oldies but Goodies

Today's post is from a dear cousin of mine, Ching Yong.

Dear friends:

If you receive this email from me, it means why not, listen to this beautiful song. We need not to feel so bad about work, people's problems, petrol; life, in fact, can be beautiful, God's willing, gives us a chance to listen beautiful songs as we like. You are my friends, that is why I have sent this song for you quietly in the middle of the night. I know you will like this, though this song is during my time, 70's - 80's.

Sometimes, there may be too many words to read, too much sad news and too much warning. But sometimes, not all emails are bad. Why not, grasp a time to listen to this romantic song? If most of you want some good oldies, I will compile and share with you all - while reading your emails, look out the windows, listen to this beautiful song, life is good when we can feel it, we can have a stop and listen to this melody.

Romance is not just from the movie and books, we can have it if we are willing to care sincerely. I am sure, some of you are still have the hearts for each other amid our busy schedules and petrol price hike.

Sometimes, we remember our friends, at the middle of the nights, you know, we are friends.

Ching Yong

Here is the link to Ching Yong's favourite song:
The Twelfth of Never

Here's another link of the song by Donny Osmond by iml,
Donny Osmond's

Here is the Lyrics:

"The Twelfth of Never", by Johnny Mathis

You ask how much I need you, must I explain?
I need you, oh my darling, like roses need rain.
You ask how long I'll love you; I'll tell you true:
Until the twelfth of never, I'll still be loving you.

Hold me close, never let me go.
Hold me close, melt my heart like April snow.

I'll love you till the bluebells forget to bloom;
I'll love you till the clover has lost its perfume.
I'll love you till the poets run out of rhyme,
Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time.

Hold me close, never let me go.
Hold me close, melt my heart like April snow.

I'll love you till the bluebells forget to bloom;
I'll love you till the clover has lost its perfume.
I'll love you till the poets run out of rhyme,
Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time.

Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time.