The Greatest Oldies Music

Oldies Musics

Donny Osmond – The Twelfth Of Never

Donny Osmond - Latter-day Saint Musicians

About the Song

Donny Osmond, a name synonymous with the golden age of pop music, has graced us with countless hits over his illustrious career. Among his most enduring classics is the heart-wrenching ballad, “The Twelfth of Never”. Released in 1973, this song has captivated audiences for generations, proving that true love stories are timeless.

“The Twelfth of Never” is a poignant exploration of unrequited love and the enduring hope that one day, a lost love might return. The lyrics, penned by Jerry Livingston and Paul Francis Webster, paint a vivid picture of a heartbroken individual who clings to the memory of a past romance. The line, “I’ll love you till the twelfth of never,” is a powerful statement of eternal devotion, suggesting that the singer’s love is so deep that it will last forever.

Donny Osmond’s smooth, velvety vocals perfectly capture the emotional depth of the song. His delivery is both heartfelt and restrained, allowing the lyrics to resonate with listeners on a deeply personal level. The music, with its lush orchestral arrangements, complements the somber tone of the lyrics, creating a truly immersive listening experience.

One of the reasons why “The Twelfth of Never” has remained so popular is its universal theme. The pain of lost love is a feeling that everyone can relate to at some point in their lives. The song’s timeless message of hope and perseverance has resonated with audiences of all ages and backgrounds. Moreover, the song’s elegant simplicity has allowed it to transcend musical trends and remain relevant for decades.

“The Twelfth of Never” is more than just a song; it’s a testament to the enduring power of music to connect people on a deep emotional level. Donny Osmond’s interpretation of this classic ballad has solidified his place in music history and continues to inspire new generations of listeners.Donny Osmond Posters and Photos 237675 | Movie Store

Video 

Lyrics: The Twelfth Of Never

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.

 

Related Post

Was Elvis Presley at his most elegant in a black tuxedo? Many fans would say yes. While the world often remembers him in dazzling white jumpsuits, there was something timeless about Elvis in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. It revealed a different side of the King. Calm, confident, and effortlessly sophisticated.

In July 1970, just before his legendary Las Vegas comeback, Elvis Presley stepped into MGM Studios for a series of rehearsals that revealed a side of him few fans had ever seen. There were no screaming crowds or bright stage lights. It was simply Elvis, surrounded by his band, enjoying the music he loved.

Just weeks before his passing in the summer of 1977, Elvis Presley showed the world that his greatest gift was not his voice, but his heart. Although he was battling declining health, he never stopped caring about the people around him. Even in his most difficult days, kindness came naturally to him.

You Missed

Country

TWO MONTHS BEFORE ILLNESS SILENCED HIS VOICE, TOBY KEITH STOOD UNDER THE LAS VEGAS LIGHTS FOR ONE FINAL, DEFIANT STAND THAT NO ONE KNEW WAS A FAREWELL. In December 2023, after spending eighteen months largely away from touring while fighting stomach cancer, Toby Keith stepped onto the stage at Dolby Live in Las Vegas for three sold-out performances. He brought the exact same unapologetic humor, gritty confidence, and blue-collar pride that had carried him from Oklahoma oil fields to the summit of American country music. No one in the room—and perhaps not even Toby himself—realized that the final show on December 14 would mark his last public concert. For roughly two hours, he commanded the room, moving seamlessly through rowdy anthems, reflective storytelling, and the unmistakable anthems that defined his career. When the night reached its climax, he delivered a powerful encore with “American Soldier” and “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue.” Before striking the final chords, he urged the crowd never to apologize for loving their country—a parting message captured on fan-recorded footage that would soon echo around the world. It wasn’t a sentimentally scripted goodbye; it was pure, unvarnished conviction from an artist who refused to soften his edges or disguise what he believed. Less than two months later, on February 5, 2024, Toby passed away at the age of sixty-two. Only then did those Las Vegas nights take on the heavy, sacred weight of a final chapter. Las Vegas didn’t witness a legend surrendering to disease; it watched a working artist give everything he had left, stepping off the stage entirely on his own terms.

Country

EVEN AS STOMACH CANCER WHISPERED OF THE END, TOBY KEITH CLUTCHED THE MUSIC TILL HIS FINAL BREATH — LEAVING BEHIND A WORKING-CLASS CREED THAT NO ILLNESS COULD EVER SILENCE. Toby Keith never learned how to surrender quietly. When the bright lights of packed stadiums faded into the quiet, heavy shadows of an Oklahoma home, the fight didn’t stop; it just moved inward. Whether or not his hands literally gripped a battered wooden neck on his deathbed matters less than the hard, unvarnished truth of how he lived: a man who treated every lyric like a lifeline and every song like a handshake with the working people who built this country. He spent decades staring down critics, industry Nashville elites, and the brutal realities of front-line war zones without ever blinking. When cancer came knocking, he faced it with that same stubborn, blue-collar defiance—refusing to let the disease write his final verse. Even as his body wore down, his spirit remained anchored to the melodies that gave voice to factory floors, small-town front porches, and soldiers holding the line thousands of miles away. The room may have grown still, but the noise of his legacy never will. It echoes in every rowdy chorus, every uncompromised lyric, and every life touched by his quiet work for military families and kids fighting the same dark battles. Toby didn’t chase universal approval or play the Hollywood game; he stayed true to the grit that got him there, leaving behind an American soundtrack that will keep humming long after the dust settles.

Country

WHEN A SUDDEN THUNDERSTORM BROUGHT DOWN “GENTLEMAN JIM” REEVES IN 1964, NASHVILLE MOURNED A GLOBAL SUPERSTAR, BUT TEXAS TOOK BACK HER FAVORITE SON. Long before his velvet baritone was melting hearts across the globe with timeless crossover hits like “He’ll Have to Go” and “Welcome to My World,” Jim Reeves was just a kid from Galloway, Texas, with his sights set on a baseball diamond. When an arm injury abruptly ended his stint in the St. Louis Cardinals farm system, he pivoted to radio in Shreveport—landing his life-changing break on the Louisiana Hayride simply because another singer failed to show up for a slot. By July 31, 1964, Reeves sat at the absolute pinnacle of country music, a polished icon in a signature bow tie who sang soft while the rest of the genre hollered. But while flying home to Nashville from a business trip in Arkansas alongside his pianist and road manager Dean Manuel, a violent thunderstorm swallowed the sky. Disoriented in the murk, the single-engine plane plunged into the trees near Brentwood, Tennessee, silencing one of the smoothest voices in American music at just forty years old. The grief split across state lines, resulting in two separate farewells: Nashville held the industry service, but Carthage, Texas, claimed the man. They buried him three miles east of town on Highway 79, beneath a striking marble statue of him in his tuxedo, holding his guitar. And in a final, heartbreaking testament to loyalty, when his beloved collie Cheyenne passed away in 1967, she was laid to rest inside that exact same circle—positioned just a few feet back and to one side, right where she would have walked beside him.

Country

SCHOOL COUNSELORS WARNED A BLIND TEENAGE RONNIE MILSAP THAT MUSIC WOULD MAKE HIM A STATE BURDEN — UNTIL ONE ENCOUNTER WITH RAY CHARLES CHANGED THE ENTIRE TRAJECTORY OF HIS LIFE.Long before he captured forty country Top Ten hits and a permanent place in the Country Music Hall of Fame, Ronnie Milsap stood at a crossroads. Gifted with classical training but weighed down by advisors who urged him toward a “safe” path in law school, the young musician was ready to abandon his true calling. Everything shifted when he was taken backstage to meet his idol, Ray Charles.Asked to play something on the piano, Ronnie poured his soul into an original piece. When the final notes faded, Ray didn’t offer lukewarm advice or bureaucratic caution. He told him flat out that there was simply too much music inside his heart to ignore. That single sentence stripped away the doubt, steering Ronnie away from the courtroom and straight into the heart of American music history.Nearly six decades later, the full circle was completed when Ronnie stood inside that exact Hall of Fame to formally induct Ray Charles. The student who once needed permission to dream had become the master honoring the man who unlocked his voice.