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Robert Heinlein

A poet who reads his verse in public may have other nasty habits.

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Nasty Habits

Heres something to think about
Where would we be without nasty habits, nasty habits
Makes me want to scream and shout
Life would be so dull without nasty habits, nasty habits
All those naughty little things that we dont discuss publicly
Nasty habits, nasty habits
Tell me your secrets, tell me your name, tell me your secrets
Does it please you to employ little girls or little boys
Nasty habits, nasty habits
Do you like to romp and play by yourself when theyre away
Nasty affair what do I care
Do you peek at magazines filled with doggies and leather queens
Nasty habits, nasty habits
Tell me your secrets that no one should hear
Whisper them softly into my ear I wont tell, I wont tell
People act so proper when theyre going bout their business
Cup of coffee, lfriendly conversation
til they get home,
til they get home
Turn the phone off, lock the door and shut the curtains
Make sure that the neighbors are without suspicion
No one will know
No one will know
Nasty habits I must condone
No one knows what I do when Im all alone
Nasty habits Im so ashamed
Nasty habits here to stay now theyll never go away
Try and stop youll have to pay
Nasty habits are here to stay
(repeat chorus)
Nasty habits I must condone
No one knows what I do when Im all alone
Nasty habits Im so ashamed
But we must not let that stop our little game
Nasty habits are so much fun
Nasty habits here to stay now theyll never go away
Try and stop youll have to pay
Nasty habits are here to stay

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Nasty Girl

Thats right, pleased to meet u
I still [dont wanna/wont] tell u my name
Dont u believe in mystery?
Dont u wanna play my game?
Im lookin for a man to love me
Like I never been loved before
Im lookin for a man thatll do it anywhere
Even on [the/a] limousinse floor
Cuz
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy.
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
I guess Im just used to sailors
I think they got water on the brain
I think they got more water upstairs
Than they got sugar on [the/a] candy cane
Thats right, its been a long time
Since I had a man [who/that] did it real good
If u aint scared, take it out
Ill do it like a real live nasty girl should
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Tonight, Im living in a fantasy
My own little nasty world
Tonight, dont u wanna come with me?
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Please, please
Please, please
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Nasty girl (nasty girl)
Do u think Im a nasty girl?
Nasty girl (nasty girl)

[...] Read more

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Byron

English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire

'I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew!
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers'~Shakespeare

'Such shameless bards we have; and yet 'tis true,
There are as mad, abandon'd critics too,'~Pope.


Still must I hear? -- shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall,
And I not sing, lest, haply, Scotch reviews
Should dub me scribbler, and denounce my muse?
Prepare for rhyme -- I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

O nature's noblest gift -- my grey goose-quill!
Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will,
Torn from thy parent bird to form a pen,
That mighty instrument of little men!
The pen! foredoom'd to aid the mental throes
Of brains that labour, big with verse or prose,
Though nymphs forsake, and critics may deride,
The lover's solace, and the author's pride.
What wits, what poets dost thou daily raise!
How frequent is thy use, how small thy praise!
Condemn'd at length to be forgotten quite,
With all the pages which 'twas thine to write.
But thou, at least, mine own especial pen!
Once laid aside, but now assumed again,
Our task complete, like Hamet's shall be free;
Though spurn'd by others, yet beloved by me:
Then let us soar today, no common theme,
No eastern vision, no distemper'd dream
Inspires -- our path, though full of thorns, is plain;
Smooth be the verse, and easy be the strain.

When Vice triumphant holds her sov'reign sway,
Obey'd by all who nought beside obey;
When Folly, frequent harbinger of crime,
Bedecks her cap with bells of every clime;
When knaves and fools combined o'er all prevail,
And weigh their justice in a golden scale;
E'en then the boldest start from public sneers,
Afraid of shame, unknown to other fears,
More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe,
And shrink from ridicule, though not from law.

Such is the force of wit! but not belong
To me the arrows of satiric song;
The royal vices of our age demand
A keener weapon, and a mightier hand.

[...] Read more

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Old Habits Die Hard

(criston barker, david moyse)
Seems like yesterday my life had begun
As we went through life
Tryin to make it so much fun
And I know that Im still in love with you
Cause youre one bad habit that I cant refuse
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Lifes been strange to me since youve been gone
And its so hard tryin; to say that I was wrong
Now I know that Im still in love with you
Cause youre the one bad habit that I cant refuse
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
You know and I know that you cant live on memories alone
Theres just one memory that Im thinking of
Just one habit that I cant shake off, its you
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
And theres just one memory Im thinking of
Just one habit that I cant shake off, its you
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard
Old habits die hard

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Alexander Pope

Imitations of Horace: The First Epistle of the Second Book

Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere
(Horace, Epistles II.i.267)
While you, great patron of mankind, sustain
The balanc'd world, and open all the main;
Your country, chief, in arms abroad defend,
At home, with morals, arts, and laws amend;
How shall the Muse, from such a monarch steal
An hour, and not defraud the public weal?
Edward and Henry, now the boast of fame,
And virtuous Alfred, a more sacred name,
After a life of gen'rous toils endur'd,
The Gaul subdu'd, or property secur'd,
Ambition humbled, mighty cities storm'd,
Or laws establish'd, and the world reform'd;
Clos'd their long glories with a sigh, to find
Th' unwilling gratitude of base mankind!
All human virtue, to its latest breath
Finds envy never conquer'd, but by death.
The great Alcides, ev'ry labour past,
Had still this monster to subdue at last.
Sure fate of all, beneath whose rising ray
Each star of meaner merit fades away!
Oppress'd we feel the beam directly beat,
Those suns of glory please not till they set.

To thee the world its present homage pays,
The harvest early, but mature the praise:
Great friend of liberty! in kings a name
Above all Greek, above all Roman fame:
Whose word is truth, as sacred and rever'd,
As Heav'n's own oracles from altars heard.
Wonder of kings! like whom, to mortal eyes
None e'er has risen, and none e'er shall rise.

Just in one instance, be it yet confest
Your people, Sir, are partial in the rest:
Foes to all living worth except your own,
And advocates for folly dead and gone.
Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old;
It is the rust we value, not the gold.
Chaucer's worst ribaldry is learn'd by rote,
And beastly Skelton heads of houses quote:
One likes no language but the Faery Queen ;
A Scot will fight for Christ's Kirk o' the Green:
And each true Briton is to Ben so civil,
He swears the Muses met him at the Devil.

Though justly Greece her eldest sons admires,
Why should not we be wiser than our sires?
In ev'ry public virtue we excel:

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You are the poet

Poet is a journalist
Watches the feelings
Watches the emotions
Watches the world
Watches the light and
Watches the dark
He thinks everywhere
Others can’t imagine

-o-

Chasing the thoughts
Searching the words
Forming the sentences
To give the expression
To put the life in it

-o-

Poet is like a cook
Collecting good ingredients
Cooking the feelings to
Present in better way

-o-

Poet is like a soldier
Fighting in the war and
Fighting with the self
Feeling the pain and
Bleeding the emotions
Making room for self
To express the story
To save the people

-o-

Poet is like mother
Cooking the soft food
Feeding smoothly
Treating the readers like his own kids
Reader’s happiness is poet’s happiness
If you can’t praise, no problem
But don’t forget to acknowledge
-o-

Poet is the center of universe
Editors, Music directors,
Composers, singers, musicians,
Media everybody is rotating around

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Just Leave Them Like You've Had It

I've got to beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
If I do I'll never win.

Beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
It is as if I'll never win.

You remind me why I never come home.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I turn off my phone.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I love to live alone.
But from you it seems I've got to know what's going on!
And that's a habit.

I've got to beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
If I do I'll never win.

I've got to free from those bad habits.

Beat bad habits...
I've got to free from bad habits now.
Those habits...
Those ones I want to break but how?

You remind me why I never come home.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I turn off my phone.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I love to live alone.
But from you it seems I've got to know what's going on!
And that's a habit.

I've got to beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
If I do I'll never win.

Beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
It is as if I'll never win.

I've got to free from those bad habits.

[...] Read more

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Tale V

THE PATRON.

A Borough-Bailiff, who to law was train'd,
A wife and sons in decent state maintain'd,
He had his way in life's rough ocean steer'd
And many a rock and coast of danger clear'd;
He saw where others fail'd, and care had he,
Others in him should not such feelings see:
His sons in various busy states were placed,
And all began the sweets of gain to taste,
Save John, the younger, who, of sprightly parts,
Felt not a love for money-making arts:
In childhood feeble, he, for country air,
Had long resided with a rustic pair;
All round whose room were doleful ballads, songs,
Of lovers' sufferings and of ladies' wrongs;
Of peevish ghosts who came at dark midnight,
For breach of promise, guilty men to fright;
Love, marriage, murder, were the themes, with

these,
All that on idle, ardent spirits seize;
Robbers at land and pirates on the main,
Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain;
Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers,
Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice

flowers,
And all the hungry mind without a choice devours.
From village-children kept apart by pride,
With such enjoyments, and without a guide,
Inspired by feelings all such works infused,
John snatch'd a pen, and wrote as he perused:
With the like fancy he could make his knight
Slay half a host, and put the rest to flight;
With the like knowledge he could make him ride
From isle to isle at Parthenissa's side;
And with a heart yet free, no busy brain
Form'd wilder notions of delight and pain,
The raptures smiles create, the anguish of disdain.
Such were the fruits of John's poetic toil -
Weeds, but still proofs of vigour in the soil:
He nothing purposed but with vast delight,
Let Fancy loose, and wonder'd at her flight:
His notions of poetic worth were high,
And of his own still-hoarded poetry; -
These to his father's house he bore with pride,
A miser's treasure, in his room to hide;
Till spurr'd by glory, to a reading friend,
He kindly show'd the sonnets he had penn'd:

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Fifth Book

AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,
Who, in a rush of too long prisoned flame,
Their radiant faces upward, burn away
This dark of the body, issuing on a world
Beyond our mortal?–can I speak my verse
So plainly in tune to these things and the rest,
That men shall feel it catch them on the quick,
As having the same warrant over them
To hold and move them, if they will or no,
Alike imperious as the primal rhythm
Of that theurgic nature? I must fail,
Who fail at the beginning to hold and move
One man,–and he my cousin, and he my friend,
And he born tender, made intelligent,
Inclined to ponder the precipitous sides
Of difficult questions; yet, obtuse to me,–
Of me, incurious! likes me very well,
And wishes me a paradise of good,
Good looks, good means, and good digestion!–ay,
But otherwise evades me, puts me off
With kindness, with a tolerant gentleness,–
Too light a book for a grave man's reading! Go,
Aurora Leigh: be humble.
There it is;
We women are too apt to look to one,
Which proves a certain impotence in art.
We strain our natures at doing something great,
Far less because it's something great to do,
Than, haply, that we, so, commend ourselves
As being not small, and more appreciable
To some one friend. We must have mediators

[...] Read more

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Bad Habits

I seen you walking down the street with another man
Girl youre really shocking
I seen you walking down the street with another hand
Held in your stockings
Boys will be boys and girls will be trouble
And Im a man of bad habits
I seen you walking down the street with another man
Girl I had to have it
Bad habits
Bad habits
Bad habits
You and I we should meet
Yeah, you and I we should get together
Me and you and I should meet
In the rain and stormy weather
Bad habits
Bad habits
Bad habits
No messing around
Nows the time to start
Boys will be boys and girls will be trouble
And Im a man of bad habits
I seen you walking down the street with another girl
Man I had to have it
I know it gets into your brain
Sometimes it dribbles and goes in your veins
I tell you this boys is the same
This boys got bad habits
You and I should meet
You and I we should get together
You and i, you know we should meet
Hey babe, check it out the stormy weather
Bad habits
I got bad habits
I got bad habits

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Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

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Boys Feat. Pharrel Of N.E.R.D.

[Britney]
For whatever reason,
I feel like I've been wanting you all my life
You don't understand
I'm so glad we're at the same place at the same time
It's over now
I spotted you dancin'
You made all the girls stare
Those lips and your brown eyes (Oooh)
And the sexy hair
I should shake my thang (Ooh)
Make the world want you (Ha Ha Ha)
Tell your boys you'll be back
I wanna see what you can do (Uh)
What would it take for you to just leave with me?
Not trying to sound conceited but
You and me were meant to be (Yeah Yeah)
You're a sexy guy, I'm a nice girl (Uh)
Let's turn this dance floor into our own little nasty world
Boys! Sometimes a girl just needs one (You know I need you)
Boys! To love her and to hold (I just want you to touch me)
Boys! And when a girl is with one (Mmm)
Boys! Then she's in control!
[Pharrell]
Pull the girl off the dance floor
Whisper in ear
Must've said somethin' bout me (What you say)
Cos now she's lookin' over here
You lookin' at me (He He He)
With that sexy attitude
But the way your girls movin' it (Uh)
It puts me in the mood
(Ow!)
What would it take for you to just leave with me?
Not trying to sound conceited
But meeting you was destiny
I'm from N.E.R.D, Aren't you Britney? (Don't you know?)
Let's turn this dance floor into our own little nasty thing (Get Nasty!)
Girls! I can't speak for no one (I get nasty)
Girls! But I need her all the time (It's just me and you baby)
Girls! I don't know 'bout your girl
Girls! But I know she's on your mind (Get Nasty)
[Britney]
Boys! Sometimes a girl just needs one (I get nasty)
Boys! To love her and to hold (I get nasty)
Boys! And when a girl is with one (I get nasty)
Boys! Then she's in control!
You like that
Here we go
Have no Fear

[...] Read more

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An Essay On The Different Stiles Of Poetry

To Henry, Lord Viscount Bolingbroke.


I hate the Vulgar with untuneful Mind,
Hearts uninspir'd, and Senses unrefin'd.
Hence ye Prophane, I raise the sounding String,
And Bolingbroke descends to hear me sing.

When Greece cou'd Truth in Mystick Fable shroud,
And with Delight instruct the list'ning Crowd,
An ancient Poet (Time has lost his Name)
Deliver'd Strains on Verse to future Fame.
Still as he sung he touch'd the trembling Lyre,
And felt the Notes a rising Warmth inspire.
Ye sweet'ning Graces in the Musick Throng,
Assist my Genius, and retrieve the Song
From dark Oblivion. See, my Genius goes
To call it forth. 'Twas thus the Poem rose.

Wit is the Muses Horse, and bears on high
The daring Rider to the Muses Sky:
Who, while his strength to mount aloft he tries,
By Regions varying in their Nature, flies.

At first he riseth o'er a Land of Toil,
A barren, hard, and undeserving Soil,
Where only Weeds from heavy Labour grow,
Which yet the Nation prune, and keep for show.
Where Couplets jingling on their Accent run,
Whose point of Epigram is sunk to Pun.
Where Wings by Fancy never feather'd fly,
Where Lines by measure form'd in Hatchets lie;
Where Altars stand, erected Porches gape,
And Sense is cramp'd while Words are par'd to shape;
Where mean Acrosticks labour'd in a Frame,
On scatter'd Letters raise a painful Scheme;
And by Confinement in their Work controul
The great Enlargings of the boundless Soul.
Where if a Warriour's elevated Fire
Wou'd all the brightest Strokes of Verse require,
Then streight in Anagram a wretched Crew
Will pay their undeserving Praises too;
While on the rack his poor disjointed Name
Must tell its Master's Character to Fame.
And (if my Fire and Fears aright presage)
The lab'ring Writers of a future Age
Shall clear new ground, and Grotts and Caves repair,
To civilize the babbling Ecchoes there.
Then while a Lover treads a lonely Walk,
His Voice shall with its own Reflection talk,

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William Cowper

Table Talk

A. You told me, I remember, glory, built
On selfish principles, is shame and guilt;
The deeds that men admire as half divine,
Stark naught, because corrupt in their design.
Strange doctrine this! that without scruple tears
The laurel that the very lightning spares;
Brings down the warrior’s trophy to the dust,
And eats into his bloody sword like rust.
B. I grant that, men continuing what they are,
Fierce, avaricious, proud, there must be war,
And never meant the rule should be applied
To him that fights with justice on his side.
Let laurels drench’d in pure Parnassian dews
Reward his memory, dear to every muse,
Who, with a courage of unshaken root,
In honour’s field advancing his firm foot,
Plants it upon the line that Justice draws,
And will prevail or perish in her cause.
‘Tis to the virtues of such men man owes
His portion in the good that Heaven bestows.
And, when recording History displays
Feats of renown, though wrought in ancient days,
Tells of a few stout hearts, that fought and died,
Where duty placed them, at their country’s side;
The man that is not moved with what he reads,
That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,
Unworthy of the blessings of the brave,
Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
But let eternal infamy pursue
The wretch to nought but his ambition true,
Who, for the sake of filling with one blast
The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste.
Think yourself station’d on a towering rock,
To see a people scatter’d like a flock,
Some royal mastiff panting at their heels,
With all the savage thirst a tiger feels;
Then view him self-proclaim’d in a gazette
Chief monster that has plagued the nations yet.
The globe and sceptre in such hands misplaced,
Those ensigns of dominion how disgraced!
The glass, that bids man mark the fleeting hour,
And Death’s own scythe, would better speak his power;
Then grace the bony phantom in their stead
With the king’s shoulder-knot and gay cockade;
Clothe the twin brethren in each other’s dress,
The same their occupation and success.
A. ‘Tis your belief the world was made for man;
Kings do but reason on the self-same plan:
Maintaining yours, you cannot theirs condemn,
Who think, or seem to think, man made for them.

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Digital Get Down

Justin (Spoken)]:
Baby baby get nasty nasty
and we can get freaky deaky
[Spoken low]
Baby baby we can do all that we want
We're gettin' nasty nasty we're getting freaky freaky
Baby baby we can do more than just talk
'Cause I can hear ya hear ya and I can see ya see ya
Baby baby we can do all that we want
We're getting nasty nasty we're getting freaky freaky
[Chorus 1]
Digital, digital get down (get down) just you and me
(You may be) Twenty thousand miles away, but I can see ya
And baby, baby you can see me
Digital, digital get down (get down) just what we need
We can get together naturally
(We can) We can get together on the digital screen
[Justin]
Every time I'm sittin all alone girl
I can't wait to get you on the phone girl
So, pick it up, babe
I can see everything you do
Bouncin' me from satellite to satellite
I love the things you do for me so late tonight
So turn me on, yeah
It's like I'm right there next to you, yeah
[Chorus 2 - Justin]
Can we get connected?
I need some love and affection, baby
I'll call you on the phone
I hope that I get through
If you're in the mood and on the phone,
here's what you do: leave a message
You know the kind I like to get back to
[Repeat Chorus 1 with Justin's echoes]
Yeah
[JC]
I lose my mind just when you're speaking
I see you on the screen, I get to freaking
So, get down, babe
And I'll get down for you
I get so excited when I'm watching, girl
I can't wait to see you touch your body, girl
It's just me and you
So, we can do what we gotta do (yeah)
[Repeat Chorus 2 - JC]
[Repeat Chorus 1 with JC's echoes]
Digital, digital, digital, digital get down (get down)
Digital digital digital digital get down (get down)
[Spoken low]

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song performed by N SyncReport problemRelated quotes
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Quickie

Ready for this one
Nivea
Rasheeda
Yeah
[Rasheeda:]
He like the way my pinkie sitting pretty
Underneath my mini Im ready for a quickie
Give him a quick striptease drop it low
Let him squeeze what my Bs like some double Ds
Only got a few minutes
I can play with
Show him how us ghetto girlz like to get it get it
I aint pimpin I see your body out of tension
So come and get it cuz Im working with a time limit
[Verse 1:]
Give it up give it up quick to me
I gotta run can we make this kinda quick you see
Give me your love like you always do it to me
(I need your love but we gotta rush)
Keep it low shine low not to loud
Do it all make it fast know I like it round
Make me scream like a witness on a murder scene
(Wont you come and break me of right here)
[Pre-Chorus:]
It can be outside on the hood of your truck
It can be how you want it just hurry up
Hit it up put it down till you get enough
Ooh ooh
[Chorus:]
I feenin for your touch (touch)
I just cant get enough
Come get all of my love
Not tryin to be nasty
I just want a quickie
I feenin for your touch (oh oh)
I just cant get enough
Come get all of my love
Not tryin to be nasty
I just want a quickie
[Verse 2:]
Makin love all night sounds good to me
But I just need a little taste of my babys free
And only you can bring it to me like you need to bring it to me
(I need your love will you take over me)
Make a girl wander what the hell you put on me
When you pull up know its up Im so ready
And I dont mind if you say that Ima get it right
(Let me tell you what I need)
[Pre-Chorus:]
It can be outside on the hood of your truck

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song performed by NiveaReport problemRelated quotes
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Nasty Ghetto

I was looking for love
In all the right places
He was flirting with me
And Lord I had to flirt back
And I fell in love
Right there on the dance floor, yeah
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He turned my frown right upside down yeah
He was looking so fine I had to say 'baby get in line' yeah
The beat was jumping and his hands were moving along me yeah
But baby don't you know that I know you ain't got it like that
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
Come on pretty baby can't you hear what I say
You gotta like it like that, liking my way
Come on pretty baby can't you hear what I say
You gotta like it like that, liking my way
I was searching for love, ooh
In all the right places
He was staring at me
I found myself staring right back yeah
And I fell in love
Right there on the dance floor, yeah
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
(That you like it like that, that, that, that...)
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that

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Cheap An Nasty

(coverdale/vandenberg)
Come on baby...
I get so confused,
But, my heart knows youre one of a kind
Leather an lace, an angels face,
Riding on a one track mind
Youre fully loaded with cruise control,
My four wheels rock with your back seat roll
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
I get so excited, babe, when Im invited
To ride in your limousine,
You drive it every day, burn it every night,
I wonder how you keep it so clean
Smooth accelerator, you get me so loose,
You keep your motor running till I run out of juice
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Cheap an nasty
I never knew it could be this way
An I never thought Id ever complain,
But, gimme a second just to catch my breath
Babe, before you do it again
All the boys call your name
Down the wishing well,
Baby, when you go
Youre like a cat out of hell
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Come on an do the dirty,
Come on an do the dirty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Come on an do the dirty with me...

song performed by WhitesnakeReport problemRelated quotes
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Bank Of Bad Habits

The rumors and the stories of my past I cant deny
Im no saint ignatius but again Im no barfly
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits in a corner of my soul
Bank of bad habits
The price of vice fortold
One by one theyll do you in
Theyre bound to take their toll
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits in a corner of my soul
Last night I said goodbye to a dear old friend of mine
Just a throw back shell beach party, nothin really asinine
Rum and cooked animals and bullshit by the ton
That party lasted way too long and I had too much fun
Bank of bad habits
The price of vice fortold
One by one theyll do you in
Theyre bound to take their toll
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits in a corner of my soul
That bank of bad habits is worth its weight in gold
Time for you to spend that dough
Youre the only one you owe
So put away those alibis
You cant fool that banker in the sky
(spoken)
Now let me tell you about the 7 deadly sins:
1. pride...thou shalt not have pride in thy neighbor.
2. coveting...thou shalt not covet thy neighbors wife.
3. lust...thou shalt not lust after his neighbors wife.
4. anger...do not be angry with your neighbors wife.
5. gluttony...do not eat thy neighbors wifes ........popcorn.
6. envy...do not envy your neighbors wife.
7. sloth...do not be a slob.
And the eighth deadly sin is............pizza!
A pictures worth a thousand words just ask a cameraman
And its no sin to stop and look, I do it when I can
But you have to purge that urge to merge
You have to keep your head
Or trouble is what you will find inside some strangers bed
Bank of bad habits
The price of vice foretold
One by one theyll do you in
Theyre bound to take their toll
The wrong thing is the right thing until you lose control
Ive got this bank of bad habits
Its worth its weight in gold
(spoken)
Yeah, were talkin krugerands......dubloons
I was wonderin, um, do you think they have an atm machine for bad habits?

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James Russell Lowell

A Fable For Critics

Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;
Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,
And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk;
And, though 'twas a step into which he had driven her,
He somehow or other had never forgiven her;
Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,
Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic,
And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over
By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.
'My case is like Dido's,' he sometimes remarked;
'When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked
In a laurel, as _she_ thought-but (ah, how Fate mocks!)
She has found it by this time a very bad box;
Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-
You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it.
Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress!
What romance would be left?-who can flatter or kiss trees?
And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue
With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-
Not to say that the thought would forever intrude
That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood?
Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,
To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;
Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,
As they left me forever, each making its bough!
If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right,
Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.'

Now, Daphne-before she was happily treeified-
Over all other blossoms the lily had deified,
And when she expected the god on a visit
('Twas before he had made his intentions explicit),
Some buds she arranged with a vast deal of care,
To look as if artlessly twined in her hair,
Where they seemed, as he said, when he paid his addresses,
Like the day breaking through, the long night of her tresses;
So whenever he wished to be quite irresistible,
Like a man with eight trumps in his hand at a whist-table
(I feared me at first that the rhyme was untwistable,
Though I might have lugged in an allusion to Cristabel),-
He would take up a lily, and gloomily look in it,
As I shall at the--, when they cut up my book in it.

Well, here, after all the bad rhyme I've been spinning,
I've got back at last to my story's beginning:
Sitting there, as I say, in the shade of his mistress,
As dull as a volume of old Chester mysteries,

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