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Juanita / Kiteless / To Dream Of Love

Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Your thin paper wings.
In the wind. dangling.
Your sun. fly high.
Your window shattering.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Sugar box. sugar boy.
Riding in. riding in.
Sugar box. sugar boy.
Handheld candle. sugar boy.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Your thin paper wings.
In the wind. dangling.
Your sun. fly high.
Your window shattered in the wind.
Your coca cola sign rattling.
Resonator.
Homeless trees. gathering.
Outside your window bootleg babies call
To you and lie among the mosquitoes.
That summers fever coming.
Cats are gathering outside your window.
Homeless trees. bootleg babies calling
To you. lie among. lie among the mosquitoes.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Get up in your sun. fly high.
Dangling. dangling.
Your window shattered in the wind.
The sun on your coca cola sign.
Your rails. your thin
Paper wings. paper wings.
Resonator ...
There is a sound on the other side of this wall.
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps. concealed.
Silence is preserving a voice.
Walking in the wind at the waters edge
Comes close to covering my rubber feet.
Listening to the barbed wire hanging.
There is a sound on the other side of this wall.
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps. concealed.
Silence is preserving a voice.
Silver chain. thrown away. broken wing.

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Juanita

Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Your thin paper wings
In the winddangling
Your sun
Fly high
Your window shattering
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Sugar boy
Sugar boy
Riding in
Riding in
Sugar box
Sugar boy
Handheld candle sugar boy
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Your thin paper wings
In the wind dangling
Your sun fly high
Your window shattered in the wind
Your coca cola sign
Rattling
Rattling
Resonator [x8]
Homeless trees gathering
Outside your window bootleg babies call to you and lie among the mosquitoes
That summers fever coming
Cats are gathering outside your window
Homeless trees
Bootleg babies calling to you
Lie among lie among the mosquitoes
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Get up in your sun fly high
Dangling dangling
Your window shattered in the wind
The sun on your coca cola sign
Your rails
Your thin
Paper wings
Paper wings
Resonator, [x16]
Homeless trees gathering
Outside your window bootleg babies call to you and lie among the mosquitoes

[...] Read more

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Unlock That Box Just For You

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box.
And walk away from it when you get out.
Experience what life is about.
It's not inside to keep up whining,
It's not inside to throw a tantrum and pout.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to move your feet with direct speed.
You've got to unleash from guilt and pity.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to accept what is there and care!
You can not wish for something you think is fair.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to unload despair and grief.
You've got to move with faith and beliefs.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to move your feet with direct speed.
You've got to unleash from guilt and pity.

The key to feeling happy and free...
You've got to accept what is there and care!
You can not wish for something you think is fair.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box.
And walk away from it when you get out.
Experience what life is about.
It's not inside to keep up whining,
It's not inside to throw a tantrum and pout.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Look around and see what your world's about.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Look around and see what your world's about.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Look around and see what your world's about.

The key to feeling happy and free...
Unlock that box and get out.
Unlock that box and get out.
Unlock that box and get out.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fly Away

Spread your wings
Flying over frozen mountains
Crystal rivers and geizer fountains
????
Float with the breeze and cross seas to shores
Deserts, cactus, and tumbleweed
Irish meadows and fields of green
Glide through cities of brick and stone
Broken arrows of ancient roan
Fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Won't you come fly with me?
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Everybody
Haunted woodlands, forbidden trails
?????
Castle halls, underwater falls
Pyramids crumble when nature calls
Skies of blue become black with stars
Lightning bugs kept within jars
Sand moves slowly through the hour glass
Wings spread, we can all fly last
Everybody come and fly away
You must believe that you can fly away
Spread your wings and come and fly away
Just believe that you will fly away
Rock will melt, coal crystalize
The clouds and skylines materialize
Wings spread take flights over northern lights
Wolves howl over blood-red moonlit nights
We're Kings and Queens within our dreams
The sky rains down into ruby rings
Oceans river lakes and ponds
Lions unicorns birds and ???
Fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Won't you come fly with me?
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Everybody
Martians travel to the land of Mecca
Atlantis hidden deep under forever
Iceland golden tombs of pharoah kings

[...] Read more

song performed by Insane Clown Posse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bruce Lee

( bullet got the wrong bloke )
Life kid suck
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life give suck the box drink
Yeah
Life kid drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kids sucker
Box drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life kid seen from the box
Seen from the box
The juice from the box
Kids suck life
Kid get suck from the box
Drink
Bruce lee
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life gets in from the box
Seen from the box
The juice from the box
Kids suck life
Kid get suck from the box
Drink
Bruce lee
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Drink
Yeah
Bruce lee
( yeah yeah yeah yeah )
Life kid suck from the box
Drink from the box
The juice kicks up
Life kid suck from the box
Yeah
Bruce lee
Life kid ? ? from the box
Seen from the box
Drink from the box

[...] Read more

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sun-Up

(Shadows over a cradle…
fire-light craning….
A hand
throws something in the fire
and a smaller hand
runs into the flame and out again,
singed and empty….
Shadows
settling over a cradle…
two hands
and a fire.)

I

CELIA

Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry…. When you try to pick up cherry Celia's shriek sticks in you like a pin.

When God throws hailstones you cuddle in Celia's shawl and press your feet on her belly high up like a stool. When Celia makes umbrella of her hand. Rain falls through big pink spokes of her fingers. When wind blows Celia's gown up off her legs she runs under pillars of the bank— great round pillars of the bank have on white stockings too.

Celia says my father
will bring me a golden bowl.
When I think of my father
I cannot see him
for the big yellow bowl
like the moon with two handles
he carries in front of him.

Grandpa, grandpa…
(Light all about you…
ginger… pouring out of green jars…)
You don't believe he has gone away and left his great coat…
so you pretend… you see his face up in the ceiling.
When you clap your hands and cry, grandpa, grandpa, grandpa,
Celia crosses herself.

It isn't a dream…. It comes again and again…. You hear ivy crying on steeples the flames haven't caught yet and images screaming when they see red light on the lilies on the stained glass window of St. Joseph. The girl with the black eyes holds you tight, and you run… and run past the wild, wild towers… and trees in the gardens tugging at their feet and little frightened dolls shut up in the shops crying… and crying… because no one stops… you spin like a penny thrown out in the street. Then the man clutches her by the hair…. He always clutches her by the hair…. His eyes stick out like spears. You see her pulled-back face and her black, black eyes lit up by the glare…. Then everything goes out. Please God, don't let me dream any more of the girl with the black, black eyes.

Celia's shadow rocks and rocks… and mama's eyes stare out of the pillow as though she had gone away and the night had come in her place as it comes in empty rooms… you can't bear it— the night threshing about and lashing its tail on its sides as bold as a wolf that isn't afraid— and you scream at her face, that is white as a stone on a grave and pull it around to the light, till the night draws backward… the night that walks alone and goes away without end. Mama says, I am cold, Betty, and shivers. Celia tucks the quilt about her feet, but I run for my little red cloak because red is hot like fire.

I wish Celia
could see the sea climb up on the sky
and slide off again…

[...] Read more

poem by Lola Ridge
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The Other One Needs

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

He's nothing but a whatever he wants to be.
He lives,
And breathes...
From a different,
Reality.

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Paper Windmill

The little boy pressed his face against the window-pane and looked out
at the bright sunshiny morning. The cobble-stones of the square
glistened like mica. In the trees, a breeze danced and pranced,
and shook drops of sunlight like falling golden coins into the brown water
of the canal. Down stream slowly drifted a long string of galliots
piled with crimson cheeses. The little boy thought they looked as if
they were roc's eggs, blocks of big ruby eggs. He said, 'Oh!' with delight,
and pressed against the window with all his might.

The golden cock on the top of the `Stadhuis' gleamed. His beak was open
like a pair of scissors and a narrow piece of blue sky was wedged in it.
'Cock-a-doodle-do,' cried the little boy. 'Can't you hear me
through the window, Gold Cocky? Cock-a-doodle-do! You should crow
when you see the eggs of your cousin, the great roc.' But the golden cock
stood stock still, with his fine tail blowing in the wind.
He could not understand the little boy, for he said 'Cocorico'
when he said anything. But he was hung in the air to swing, not to sing.
His eyes glittered to the bright West wind, and the crimson cheeses
drifted away down the canal.

It was very dull there in the big room. Outside in the square, the wind
was playing tag with some fallen leaves. A man passed, with a dogcart
beside him full of smart, new milkcans. They rattled out a gay tune:
'Tiddity-tum-ti-ti. Have some milk for your tea. Cream for your coffee
to drink to-night, thick, and smooth, and sweet, and white,'
and the man's sabots beat an accompaniment: 'Plop! trop! milk for your tea.
Plop! trop! drink it to-night.' It was very pleasant out there,
but it was lonely here in the big room. The little boy gulped at a tear.

It was queer how dull all his toys were. They were so still.
Nothing was still in the square. If he took his eyes away a moment
it had changed. The milkman had disappeared round the corner,
there was only an old woman with a basket of green stuff on her head,
picking her way over the shiny stones. But the wind pulled the leaves
in the basket this way and that, and displayed them to beautiful advantage.
The sun patted them condescendingly on their flat surfaces, and they seemed
sprinkled with silver. The little boy sighed as he looked at his disordered
toys on the floor. They were motionless, and their colours were dull.
The dark wainscoting absorbed the sun. There was none left for toys.

The square was quite empty now. Only the wind ran round and round it,
spinning. Away over in the corner where a street opened into the square,
the wind had stopped. Stopped running, that is, for it never
stopped spinning. It whirred, and whirled, and gyrated, and turned.
It burned like a great coloured sun. It hummed, and buzzed, and sparked,
and darted. There were flashes of blue, and long smearing lines of saffron,

[...] Read more

poem by Amy Lowell
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Glass

shattering fast, i'm glass, i'm glass
i'm shattering fast, i'm glass, i'm glass
i'm shattering, shattering, glass, glass, glass
i'm shattering fast, i'm glass, i'm glass
got a lot of tears
in a blood-stained jar
been a real long time
since i walk the fine line
you set up the walls
you set up the walls
hold all my calls
i'll be by the pool
won't you please
talk to me
won't you love
what i love
all alone
in my soul
i betrayed
my rock and roll
my rock and roll
my rock and roll
my rock and roll
my rock and roll
Shattering fast, i'm glass, i'm glass
I'm shattering, shattering, glass, glass, glass
you set up the walls
hold all my calls
i'll be by the pool
playing with my guns
and there's nowhere to run
i'm the one you love now
staying after school
breaking all the rules
shattering fast
shattering fast
i'm shattering glass
shattering fast, oh

song performed by Smashing Pumpkins
Added by Lucian Velea
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Glass Theme (live 10-04-99)

shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
i'm shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
i'm shattering, shattering
glass, glass, glass
i'm shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
i've got a lot of tears
in a blood-stained jar
it's been a real long time
since i walked the fine line
you put up the walls
you put up the walls
hold all my calls
i'll be by the pool
won't you please
worship me
won't you love
what i adore
all alone
in my soul
i betrayed
rock and roll
rock and roll
rock and roll
rock and roll
rock and roll
everybody knows i'm last, i'm last
and everybody knows i'm fast, i'm fast
i'm shattering, shattering
glass, glass, glass
i'm shattering fast
i'm glass, i'm glass
you put up the walls
hold all my calls
'cause i'll be by the pool
playing with my guns
'cause there's nowhere to run
'cause i'm the one you love now
staying after school
breaking all your rules
shattering fast
shattering glass
shattering glass
i'm shattering glass

song performed by Smashing Pumpkins
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sugar Hill

Writer Dolly Parton
Up on Sugar Hill we'd go walkin'
Hand in hand while the south wind blowed
Bob whites callin', black crows cawkin',
Countin' the warts on a toad in the road
Down in the mill pond swimmin naked
Showin' more than we should have showed
We were just kids explorin' nature
Learnin more than we should have knowed
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealing sugar on the mountainside
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than candy and cake and pie
A yellow dress drapin off of my shoulder
Seein' myself in the lookin glass
Older now and a little bit bolder
Thinkin' about our summers past
Up on Sugar Hill we'd go walkin'
Hand in hand up the mountainside
Teenage lovers plannin' and talkin'
Dreamin' of a future for you and I
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealin' sugar on the mountain top
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than ice cream and soda pop
Years have past, we're married with children
Our days are happy and our memories fond
We still find it quite appealin'
To go to Sugar Hill and swim naked in the pond
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealin' sugar on the mountaintop
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than ice cream and soda pop
Up on Sugar Hill theres a wealth of treasure
Down its memory lane I go walking still
What it means to me is more than I can measure
Golden moments up on Sugar Hill
Up on Sugar Hill with the fireflies glowin
Sound of katydids and the whipperwill
Honeysuckle bloomin and a mountain stream flowin
A little spot of heaven up on Sugar Hill
Up On Sugar Hill with the bobwhites callin
Black crows cawkin', and the soft wind blows
Up on Sugar Hill there are love birds talkin'
Up on Sugar Hill where the good times roll
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealin sugar on the mountainside
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than candy and cakes and pies
A little spot of heaven up on Sugar Hill

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book III

The Argument

Actions of the Inca Capac. A general invasion of his dominions threatened by the mountain savages. Rocha, the Inca's son, sent with a few companions to offer terms of peace. His embassy. His adventure with the worshippers of the volcano. With those of the storm, on the Andes. Falls in with the savage armies. Character and speech of Zamor, their chief. Capture of Rocha and his companions. Sacrifice of the latter. Death song of Azonto. War dance. March of the savage armies down the mountains to Peru. Incan army meets them. Battle joins. Peruvians terrified by an eclipse of the sun, and routed. They fly to Cusco. Grief of Oella, supposing the darkness to be occasioned by the death of Rocha. Sun appears. Peruvians from the city wall discover Roch an altar in the savage camp. They march in haste out of the city and engage the savages. Exploits of Capac. Death of Zamor. Recovery of Rocha, and submission of the enemy.

Now twenty years these children of the skies
Beheld their gradual growing empire rise.
They ruled with rigid but with generous care,
Diffused their arts and sooth'd the rage of war,
Bade yon tall temple grace their favorite isle,
The mines unfold, the cultured valleys smile,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And rear imperial Cusco to the sky;
Wealth, wisdom, force consolidate the reign
From the rude Andes to the western main.

But frequent inroads from the savage bands
Lead fire and slaughter o'er the labor'd lands;
They sack the temples, the gay fields deface,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
The king, undaunted in defensive war,
Repels their hordes, and speeds their flight afar;
Stung with defeat, they range a wider wood,
And rouse fresh tribes for future fields of blood.

Where yon blue ridges hang their cliffs on high,
And suns infulminate the stormful sky,
The nations, temper'd to the turbid air,
Breathe deadly strife, and sigh for battle's blare;
Tis here they meditate, with one vast blow,
To crush the race that rules the plains below.
Capac with caution views the dark design,
Learns from all points what hostile myriads join.
And seeks in time by proffer'd leagues to gain
A bloodless victory, and enlarge his reign.

His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,

In early youth, ere yet the ripening sun
Had three short lustres o'er his childhood run,
The prince had learnt, beneath his father's hand,
The well-framed code that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Thats The Kind Of Sugar Papa Likes

I didnt want you, did not need you
Sure wouldnt mean to kick you down
You know I love you, I really love you
Sure do wish youd come around
But youre the kind of sugar papa likes
And when you do it, it drives me crazy (drives me crazy)
And I dont know if Im up or down
Lost or found with you
You shoulda told me, Im not the only
Man to love you twice
But since I know now, I think Ill go now
And find someone wholl love me right
But youre the kind of sugar papa likes
And when we do it, it drives me crazy (drives me crazy)
And I dont know if Im up or down
Lost or found with you
But youre the kind of sugar papa likes
And when you do it, it drives me crazy (drives me crazy)
Well, I dont know if Im up or down
Lost or found with you
But youre the kind of sugar papa likes
And when you do it, it drives me crazy (drives me crazy)
Well, I dont know if Im up or down
Lost or found with you
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, with you
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, it drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, yes you, baby
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, and youre pretty, baby
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy
Youre the kind of sugar papa likes, drives me crazy

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

[...] Read more

poem by Virgil
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The Rain

(rock the joint)
Me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh-huh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
When the rain hits my window
I take and {inhale, cough} me some indo
Me and timbaland, ooh, we sang a jangle
We so tight, that you get our styles tango
Sway on dosie-do like you loco
{singing} can we get kinky tonight?
Like coco, so-so
You don't wanna play with my yo-yo
I smoke my hydro on the dee-low
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (say what?)
Yeah..
Beep beep, who got the keys to the jeep? v-r-rrrrrrrooooom!
(uh-huh) i'm drivin to the beach
Top down, loud sounds, see my peeps (uhh)
Give them pounds, now look who it be (who it be)
It be me me me and timothy (me me!)
Look like it's bout to rain, what a shame (uh-huh)
I got the armor-all to shine up the stain
Oh missy, try to maintain
Icky-icky-icky-icky-icky-icky-icky..
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
(uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (say what? uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (yeah)

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song performed by Missy Elliott
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Bird Of Prey (Darren Emerson Mix)

Bird of pray, bird of pray
Fly in high. fly in high
Bird of pray, bird of pray
In the summer sky, fly in high
Fly in high, fly in high
Take me on your fly, fly in high
Fly in high
Bird of pray, bird of pray
Fly in high,fly in high
Bird of pray, bird of pray
In the summer sky, fly in high
Bird of pray, bird of pray
Jump me pass apart, fly in high
Fly in high
Bird of pray, bird of pray
Fly in high, fly in high
Bird of pray,bird of pray
Jump me pass apart,fly in high
Fly in high, fly in high
Fly in high, fly in high
Fly in high, fly in high
Take me over side, fly in high

song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Book VI - Part 02 - Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc

And so in first place, then
With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven,
Because the ethereal clouds, scudding aloft,
Together clash, what time 'gainst one another
The winds are battling. For never a sound there come
From out the serene regions of the sky;
But wheresoever in a host more dense
The clouds foregather, thence more often comes
A crash with mighty rumbling. And, again,
Clouds cannot be of so condensed a frame
As stones and timbers, nor again so fine
As mists and flying smoke; for then perforce
They'd either fall, borne down by their brute weight,
Like stones, or, like the smoke, they'd powerless be
To keep their mass, or to retain within
Frore snows and storms of hail. And they give forth
O'er skiey levels of the spreading world
A sound on high, as linen-awning, stretched
O'er mighty theatres, gives forth at times
A cracking roar, when much 'tis beaten about
Betwixt the poles and cross-beams. Sometimes, too,
Asunder rent by wanton gusts, it raves
And imitates the tearing sound of sheets
Of paper- even this kind of noise thou mayst
In thunder hear- or sound as when winds whirl
With lashings and do buffet about in air
A hanging cloth and flying paper-sheets.
For sometimes, too, it chances that the clouds
Cannot together crash head-on, but rather
Move side-wise and with motions contrary
Graze each the other's body without speed,
From whence that dry sound grateth on our ears,
So long drawn-out, until the clouds have passed
From out their close positions.
And, again,
In following wise all things seem oft to quake
At shock of heavy thunder, and mightiest walls
Of the wide reaches of the upper world
There on the instant to have sprung apart,
Riven asunder, what time a gathered blast
Of the fierce hurricane hath all at once
Twisted its way into a mass of clouds,
And, there enclosed, ever more and more
Compelleth by its spinning whirl the cloud
To grow all hollow with a thickened crust
Surrounding; for thereafter, when the force
And the keen onset of the wind have weakened
That crust, lo, then the cloud, to-split in twain,
Gives forth a hideous crash with bang and boom.
No marvel this; since oft a bladder small,

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poem by Lucretius
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Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.

MY wanton lines doe treate of amorous loue,
Such as would bow the hearts of gods aboue:
Then Venus, thou great Citherean Queene,
That hourely tript on the Idalian greene,
Thou laughing Erycina, daygne to see
The verses wholly consecrate to thee;
Temper them so within thy Paphian shrine,
That euery Louers eye may melt a line;
Commaund the god of Loue that little King,
To giue each verse a sleight touch with his wing,
That as I write, one line may draw the tother,
And euery word skip nimbly o're another.
There was a louely boy the Nymphs had kept,
That on the Idane mountains oft had slept,
Begot and borne by powers that dwelt aboue,
By learned Mercury of the Queene of loue:
A face he had that shew'd his parents fame,
And from them both conioynd, he drew his name:
So wondrous fayre he was that (as they say)
Diana being hunting on a day,
Shee saw the boy vpon a greene banke lay him,
And there the virgin-huntresse meant to slay him,
Because no Nymphes did now pursue the chase:
For all were strooke blind with the wanton's face.
But when that beauteous face Diana saw,
Her armes were nummed, & shee could not draw;
Yet she did striue to shoot, but all in vaine,
Shee bent her bow, and loos'd it streight againe.
Then she began to chide her wanton eye,
And fayne would shoot, but durst not see him die,
She turnd and shot, and did of purpose misse him,
Shee turnd againe, and did of purpose kisse him.
Then the boy ran: for (some say) had he stayd,
Diana had no longer bene a mayd.
Phoebus so doted on this rosiat face,
That he hath oft stole closely from his place,
When he did lie by fayre Leucothoes side,
To dally with him in the vales of Ide:
And euer since this louely boy did die,
Phoebus each day about the world doth flie,
And on the earth he seekes him all the day,
And euery night he seekes him in the sea:
His cheeke was sanguine, and his lip as red
As are the blushing leaues of the Rose spred:
And I haue heard, that till this boy was borne,
Rose grew white vpon the virgin thorne,
Till one day walking to a pleasant spring,
To heare how cunningly the birds could sing,
Laying him downe vpon a flowry bed,
The Roses blush'd and turn'd themselues to red.

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poem by Francis Beaumont
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Venus and Adonis

'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

To the right honorable Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
Right honorable.

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation.

Your honour's in all duty.

Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens:--O, how quick is love!--
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:

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poem by William Shakespeare
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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