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Empty hands only please their owner.

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Owner Of A Lonely Heart

Move yourself
You always live your life
Never thinking of the future
Prove yourself
You are the move you make
Take your chances win or loser
See yourself
You are the steps you take
You and you - and thats the only way
Shake - shake yourself
Youre every move you make
So the story goes
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Say - you dont want to chance it
Youve been hurt so before
Watch it now
The eagle in the sky
How he dancin one and only
You - lose yourself
No not for pitys sake
Theres no real reason to be lonely
Be yourself
Give your free will a chance
Youve got to want to succeed
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
After my own decision
They confused me so - owner of a lonely heart
My love said never question your will at all
In the end youve got to go
Look before you leap - owner of a lonely heart
And dont you hesitate at all - no no
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
(repeat)
Owner of a lonely heart
Sooner or later each conclusion
Will decide the lonely heart - owner of a lonely heart
It will excite it will delight

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Owner Of A Lonely Heart

Move yourself
You always live your life
Never thinking of the future
Prove yourself
You are the move you make
Take your chances win or loser
See yourself
You are the steps you take
You and you - and thats the only way
Shake - shake yourself
Youre every move you make
So the story goes
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Say - you dont want to chance it
Youve been hurt so before
Watch it now
The eagle in the sky
How he dancin one and only
You - lose yourself
No not for pitys sake
Theres no real reason to be lonely
Be yourself
Give your free will a chance
Youve got to want to succeed
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
After my own decision
They confused me so - owner of a lonely heart
My love said never question your will at all
In the end youve got to go
Look before you leap - owner of a lonely heart
And dont you hesitate at all - no no
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
(repeat)
Owner of a lonely heart
Sooner or later each conclusion
Will decide the lonely heart - owner of a lonely heart
It will excite it will delight

[...] Read more

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Owner Of Lonely Heart

Move yourself
You always live your life
Never thinking of the future
Prove yourself
You are the move you make
Take your chances win or loser
See yourself
You are the steps you take
You and you and that's the only way
Shake, shake yourself
You're every move you make
So the story goes
{Refrain} Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Say you don't want to chance it
You've been hurt so before
Watch it now The eagle in the sky
How he dancin' one and only
You, lose yourself
No not for pity's sake
There's no real reason to be lonely
Be yourself Give your free will a chance
You've got to want to succeed
{Refrain}
Owner of a lonely heart
After my own decision
They confused me so
Owner of a lonely heart
My love said never question your will at all
In the end you've got to go Look before you leap
Owner of a lonely heart
And don't you hesitate at all, no no
{Refrain twice}
Owner of a lonely heart
Sooner or later each conclusion
Will decide the lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
It will excite it will delight
It will give a better start
Owner of a lonely heart
Don't deceive your free will at all
Don't deceive your free will at all
Owner of a lonely heart
Don't deceive your free will at all
Just receive it

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Shakespeare on the Turf

SCENE I

SCENE: The saddling paddock at a racecourse.
Citizens, Battlers, Toffs, Trainers, Flappers, Satyrs, Bookmakers and Turf Experts.
Enter Shortinbras, a Trainer, and two Punters.

FIRST PUNTER: Good Shortinbras, what thinkest thou of the Fav'rite?

SHORTINBRAS (aside): This poltroon would not venture a ducat
on David to beat a dead donkey; a dull and muddy-mettled rascal.
(To Punter): Aye marry Sir, I think well of the Favourite.

PUNTER: And yet I have a billiard marker's word
That in this race to-day they back Golumpus,
And when they bet, they tell me, they will knock
The Favourite for a string of German Sausage.

SHORTINBRAS: Aye, marry, they would tell thee, I've no doubt,
It is the way of owners that they tell
To billiard markers and the men on trams
Just when they mean to bet. Go back it, back it!

(Tries to shuffle off, but Punter detains him.)

PUNTER: Nay, good Shortinbras, what thinkest thou of Golumpus?
Was it not dead last week?

SHORTINBRAS: Marry, sir, I think well of Golumpus.
'Tis safer to speak well of the dead: betimes they rise again.

(Sings)

They pulled him barefaced in the mile,
Hey, Nonny, Nonny.
The Stipes were watching them all the while;
And the losers swear, but the winners smile,
Hey, Nonny, Nonny.

Exit Shortinbras.

SECOND RUNTER: A scurvy knave! What meant he by his prate
Of Fav'rite and outsider and the like?
Forsooth he told us nothing. Follow him close.
Give him good watch, I pray you, till we see
Just what he does his dough on. Follow fast.

Exeunt Punters


SCENE II

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Throw Your Hands Up

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,90 aaliyahs in the house so check,check it out
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,90 aaliyahs in the house so check,check it out
The time has finally come to save my beats with the funky hip hop swing
(the funky swing I might add) oh check it
No holding back now is the time, to get busy
So take me to the bridge
I work hard for mine, spending all my time
To give you what you need
So if you down with this funky flavor thorw your hands up
And if you got fever for aaliyah throw your hands up
And if you down with blackground thorw your hands up
And if it got soul let me see your hands up
If you got bass in your jeeps thorw your hands up
If your not down with the crack thorw your hands up
And if you think your hyper enough to swing it thorw your hands up
And if your down with the second chapter thorw your hands up
Straight from the streets is where Im coming from (sraight out the streets)
With the touch of jazz in me, check it
Take in no shorts when it comes down to shows
I got to reck it, so take me to the bridge
I work hard for mine spending all my time
To give what you need
Where you at, where you at
So if your down with the pa let me see your hands up
And if your head is bobin to the track throw your hands up
And if you got loot in your pocket throw your hands up
And if you not foul let me see your hands up
And if your protected and you know it throw your hands up
And if r kellys record is sharp let me see your hands up
And if your body swing to the track throw your hands up
And if you want some more of the flover throw your hands up
Uh,uh,uh yeah,yeah
Aaliyah bust a free style
This is for the jeeps
Strictly for the jeeps
This is for the jeeps
(repeat)
So if your down with the funky flover thorw your hands up
And if you got the fever for aaliyah throw your hands up
And if you down with blackground throw your hands up
And if you got bass in your jeeps throw your hands up
If your not down with the crack throw your hands up
And if you think your hyper enough to swing it throw your hands up
And if your down with the second chapter throw your hands up
So if your down with the pa let me see your hands up
And if your head is bobin to the track throw your hands up
And if you got loot in your pocket throw your hands up
And if you not foul let me see your hands up
And if your protected and you know it throw your hands up
And if r kellys record is sharp let me see your hands up

[...] Read more

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Without the Immortal Love of a Woman…

Every man’s eye is devastatingly empty; unbearably rotting towards the dungeons of diabolical hell; without the celestially commiserating reflections of a bountiful woman,

Every man’s palm is sinfully empty; barbarously rotting towards the coffins of penalizing hell; without the compassionately befriending grip of an honest woman,

Every man’s vein is dreadfully empty; devilishly rotting towards the vacuum of torturous hell; without the invincibly righteous rudiments of a sacrosanct woman,

Every man’s brain is deliriously empty; sadistically rotting towards the thorns of cold-blooded hell; without the unsurpassably ebullient fantasies of an eclectic woman,

Every man’s lip is ghastily empty; tawdrily rotting towards the mortuaries of parasitic hell; without the wondrously igniting kisses of an ardent woman,

Every man’s shadow is venomously empty; carnivorously rotting towards the skeletons of hideous hell; without the mellifluously symbiotic sweetness of a benign woman,

Every man’s signature is disastrously empty; egregiously rotting towards the nothingness of hedonistic hell; without the astoundingly ameliorating reflection of a caring woman,

Every man’s mission is treacherously empty; horrendously rotting towards the dirt of excoriating hell; without the pricelessly unconquerable encouragement of a blessed woman,

Every man’s lung is cripplingly empty; nonsensically rotting towards the meaninglessness of asphyxiating hell; without the unassailably reinvigorating breath of a timeless woman,

Every man’s cheek is lecherously empty; salaciously rotting towards the perversions of crucifying hell; without the mischievously spell binding peck of an untamed woman,

Every man’s chest is drearily empty; ignominiously rotting towards the blackness of massacring hell; without the magically reincarnating caress of a sensuous woman,

Every man’s spine is lividly empty; preposterously rotting towards the holocaust of morbid hell; without the insurmountably majestic virility of an enigmatic woman,

Every man’s adventure is hopelessly empty; sacrilegiously rotting towards the ghost of tormenting hell; without the inscrutably tantalizing echo of a mesmerizing woman,

Every man’s skin is frigidly empty; inconsolably rotting towards the whiplash of strangulating hell; without the fathomlessly unabashed exhilaration of an intrepid woman,

Every man’s soul is cursedly empty; inexplicably rotting towards the gallows of murderous hell; without the infallibly consecrating sensitivity of a vivacious woman,

Every man’s shoulder is dolorously empty; blasphemously rotting towards the shards of deteriorating hell; without the amazingly unflinching unity of a blissful woman,

Every man’s ear is abjectly empty; viciously rotting towards the gutters of malevolent hell; without the enchantingly unfettered voice of a mystical woman,

Every man’s nostril is despondently empty; perilously rotting towards the wickedness of baseless hell; without the perennially life-yielding fragrance of an intricate woman,

And every man’s heart is haplessly empty; unsparingly rotting towards the evil jinx of cannibalistic hell; without the immortally embracing love of a faithful woman….

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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.

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I Dreamed.... (Hands)

i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.

hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!

hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....

whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10

THE GATES of heav’n unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war,
And all th’ inferior world. From first to last, 5
The sov’reign senate in degrees are plac’d.
Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods,
Natives or denizens of blest abodes,
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,
This backward fate from what was first design’d? 10
Why this protracted war, when my commands
Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands?
What fear or hope on either part divides
Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides?
A lawful time of war at length will come, 15
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom),
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome,
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains,
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains.
Then is your time for faction and debate, 20
For partial favor, and permitted hate.
Let now your immature dissension cease;
Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace.”
Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge;
But lovely Venus thus replies at large: 25
“O pow’r immense, eternal energy,
(For to what else protection can we fly?)
Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare
In fields, unpunish’d, and insult my care?
How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, 30
In shining arms, triumphant on the plain?
Ev’n in their lines and trenches they contend,
And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend:
The town is fill’d with slaughter, and o’erfloats,
With a red deluge, their increasing moats. 35
Æneas, ignorant, and far from thence,
Has left a camp expos’d, without defense.
This endless outrage shall they still sustain?
Shall Troy renew’d be forc’d and fir’d again?
A second siege my banish’d issue fears, 40
And a new Diomede in arms appears.
One more audacious mortal will be found;
And I, thy daughter, wait another wound.
Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave,
The Latian lands my progeny receive, 45
Bear they the pains of violated law,
And thy protection from their aid withdraw.
But, if the gods their sure success foretell;
If those of heav’n consent with those of hell,
To promise Italy; who dare debate 50

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12

WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quell’d,
Himself become the mark of public spite,
His honor question’d for the promis’d fight;
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress’d, 5
The more his fury boil’d within his breast:
He rous’d his vigor for the last debate,
And rais’d his haughty soul to meet his fate.
As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,
He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; 10
But, if the pointed jav’lin pierce his side,
The lordly beast returns with double pride:
He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain;
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane:
So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, 15
Thro’ his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.
Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
At length approach’d the king, and thus began:
“No more excuses or delays: I stand
In arms prepar’d to combat, hand to hand, 20
This base deserter of his native land.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
The same conditions which himself did make.
Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
And to my single virtue trust the war. 25
The Latians unconcern’d shall see the fight;
This arm unaided shall assert your right:
Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
To him the crown and beauteous bride remain.”
To whom the king sedately thus replied: 30
“Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried,
The more becomes it us, with due respect,
To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
Or cities which your arms have made your own: 35
My towns and treasures are at your command,
And stor’d with blooming beauties is my land;
Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,
Unmarried, fair, of noble families.
Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 40
Things which perhaps may grate a lover’s ear,
But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
No prince Italian born should heir my throne: 45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill’d,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal’d.
Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
Brib’d by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg’d by my wife, who would not be denied, 50

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Tannhauser

The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.

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Empty Hands

He rode in town on a white horse
With nothing in his hands
He came to gather his people
And take them to their promised land
When he came he knew there would be bloodshed
But still no violence made his plans
He came to fight in a battle
With no guns or money

But with his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands

They said hey boy what you lookin'at
As they eyed his dreaded mane
He said my father has sent me
I've come back to reclaim
The children whose hearts
Were so whole and pure
Now it's you who'll die in pain
So they lynched the man
Who fooled the word
And all the children gathered
In his empty hands

In his empty hands
The children ..... empty hands
In his empty hands
With his empty hands
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

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Langston Hughes

Freedom's Plow

When a man starts out with nothing,
When a man starts out with his hands
Empty, but clean,
When a man starts to build a world,
He starts first with himself
And the faith that is in his heart-
The strength there,
The will there to build.

First in the heart is the dream-
Then the mind starts seeking a way.
His eyes look out on the world,
On the great wooded world,
On the rich soil of the world,
On the rivers of the world.

The eyes see there materials for building,
See the difficulties, too, and the obstacles.
The mind seeks a way to overcome these obstacles.
The hand seeks tools to cut the wood,
To till the soil, and harness the power of the waters.
Then the hand seeks other hands to help,
A community of hands to help-
Thus the dream becomes not one man’s dream alone,
But a community dream.
Not my dream alone, but our dream.
Not my world alone,
But your world and my world,
Belonging to all the hands who build.

A long time ago, but not too long ago,
Ships came from across the sea
Bringing the Pilgrims and prayer-makers,
Adventurers and booty seekers,
Free men and indentured servants,
Slave men and slave masters, all new-
To a new world, America!

With billowing sails the galleons came
Bringing men and dreams, women and dreams.
In little bands together,
Heart reaching out to heart,
Hand reaching out to hand,
They began to build our land.
Some were free hands
Seeking a greater freedom,
Some were indentured hands
Hoping to find their freedom,
Some were slave hands
Guarding in their hearts the seed of freedom,

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These Hands

Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!

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Empty Sky

I woke up this morning
I could barely breathe
Just an empty impression
In the bed there you used to be
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Blood on the streets
Blood flowin down
I hear the blood of my blood
Cryin from the ground
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
On the plains of jordan
I cut my bow from the wood
Of this tree of evil
Of this tree of good
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky

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Laugh song

(it's just a silly song, please sing with your own melody)

Drunken man: The bottle is empty
I’m still thirsty
What can we do right now?
Crowd: Let’s steal some wine!

Bar owner: It’s the time up now!
You must pay and go
Crowd: Why is she so cruel?
We’re just having fun

Bar owner: The wind goes strong
I’m afraid storm comes
What can I do old man
With drunken men and fool?

Crowd: Our friends with us
You are warm and nice
Bar owner: No more drink tonight
Go home, goodnight!

Servant boy: The rain goes heavy
The bridge is down!
Crowd: Lord has mercy
We can’t go right now!

Crowd: The road is dark
Hard storm around
What can we do right now?
Bar owner: Sit and wait sad clown!

Man: Thunder sparks wild
Do we have some bone?
The dog still barks
Crowd: Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark

Drunken man: The bone is gone
Tomorrow we’ll mourn
What can we do right now?
Crowd: What can we do right now?

Man: No feet dance here
No music I hear
Crowd: Let’s ask our dear!
She can cheer we here

Man: The fiddle’s asleep
Her cords are curling
Crowd: Let’s just sing a song!

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Collection of Poems 2009-2011

Lullaby

Butterfly, sing to me a lullaby
Of the wonders I placed in a box
I am in the middle of time
In the middle of theft and crime
Take me away to the fantasy
Of living in truth and honesty
I'll listen to your whisper
Carefully and attentively
Why would I do otherwise?
You know I try to be wise
I am open to your lullaby
Dear butterfly
Can you see it in the depth of my eyes?
Sing to me about the place I dreamt of
Bring me the true message of love
Take with you a message of my own
To the skies you fly in
That I expected my wings to have grown
By this time in my life
How come I feel glued to the ground?
With hungry wolves all around
They want to take everything
Even your beautiful sound

In Four Walls

In the pit of my stomach…
I hold my chest
My hands hold nothing else
I go forward with my bed ready
To embrace me when I pull back
I know I can't make it
My tank has been emptied
The love and care and understanding
Somehow flew out the windows
And now I keep them shut
I can't stay with myself anymore
I've seen too much of how I am
And too much of who they are
Nothing but a big bore
Being either rich or poor
Everyone seems to fly carelessly
Into the soft clouds
They smile so endlessly
My voices are too loud
Maybe yours is too

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At the Brothel

[January 2nd week,2011]


I was with a friend that night,
He was going to take of at a secret place nearby.
Full of curiosity, I followed his steps,
Leaving behind no trace..

On the deserted road,
Bus no.29 we board;
Ten minutes after, we reached the place,
I wonder whether it was 'Night or Day'..

The Place_-

Full of life, Full of joy;
Every women like Helen of Troy..
Down the aisle someone appeared,
'Follow me', whispered in the year and then disappeared..

From there on, me and my friend parted;
Only to meet at the time when 'day' started..
I followed her,
Looking around everything pleasing,
The smell of Rose so appealing;
I dont know what perfume she used or she used or not,
Well, I was just enjoying the ecstasy she brought..

Something strange was the atmosphere,
Smile floating everywhere;
Felt like I found Eldorado,
In the midst of frustations' tornado..

A bit smoky was the environment,
But not suffocating;
Everyone reaching to contentment,
But I kept on waiting..

Dim light,
Dark night..
But I wasn't afraid,
I went on wherever the path lead..

Not a single hand was vacant,
For someone else to hold;
Number of people like pie by 2 of secant,
And everyone having their lover to behold..

I could smell her, I feel
Searching for her, my eyes bleed..

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All Within My Hands

All within my hands
Squeeze it in, crush it down
All with my hands
Hold it dear, hold it suffocate
All within my hands
Love to death, smack you 'round & 'round and
All within my hands
Beware
Love is control
I'll die if I let go
Hate me now
Kill all within my hands
Hate me now
Crush all within my hands
Squeeze all within my hands
Choke all within my hands
Hate me now
Trap all within my hands
Hurry up and hate me now
Kill all within my hands
All within my hands
Take your fear, pump me up
All within my hands
Let you run, then I pull your leash
All within my hands
Under thumb, under to myself
All within my hands
Beware
Love is control
I'll die if I let go
Hate me now
Kill all within my hands
Hate me now
Crush all within my hands
Squeeze all within my hands
Choke all within my hands
Hate me now
Trap all within my hands
Hurry up and hate me now
Kill all within my hands again
I'll die if I let go
Control is love, love is control
I'll fall if I let go
Control is love, love is control
I will only let you breathe
My air that you receive
Then we'll see if I let you love me
Kill kill kill kill kill

song performed by MetallicaReport problemRelated quotes
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Hes Got The Whole World In His Hand

Traditional
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got the fish of the sea in his hands
Hes got the birds of the air in his hands
Hes got the fish of the sea in his hands
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got the gamblin man in his hands
Hes got the sinner man in his hands
Hes got the gamblin man in his hands
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got the little bitsy baby in his hands
Hes got the little bitsy baby in his hands
Hes got the little bitsy baby in his hands
Hes got the whole world in his hands
Hes got everybody here in his hands
Hes got you and me, brother, in his hands
Hes got everybody here in his hands
Hes got the whole world...
Hes got the whole world in his hands

song performed by Nina SimoneReport problemRelated quotes
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