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Friedrich Nietzsche

Only sick music makes money today.

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Let It All Be Music

Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song

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Money, Money

My baby gives me the finance blues, tax me to the limit of my revenues.
Here she comes finger-poppin, clickety-click
She says furs or diamonds, you take your pick.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
She say, money, honey, Id rob a bank,
I just load my gun and mosey down to the bank.
Knockin off my neighborhood savings and load,
To keep my sweet chiquita in eau de cologne.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Mama dont send me down to rob that bank again,
I got a notion that your leadin me to sin.
Wont you relax, wont you lay way back,
Dont you bug your honey bout no cadillac.
Its only bucks, you dont need no jack.
So wont you please relax and lay way back.
My babys lovin gives me such a thrill;
It gives me inspiration makin counterfeit bills.
Now some folks say the best things in life are free,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Lord made a lady out of adams rib, next thing you know, you got womens lib.
Lovely to look upon, heaven to touch;
Its a real shame that they got to cost so much.

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Mammary Tunes

Under heavy haze I cast an ear…
Was that a distant hymn?

To view, to peer ahead,
I span thro’ sharpened eyes,
Connecting brain. Surprise
Awards emotion to the show –
A fine refrain.

I think I know the source:
Without recourse my keen and
Eager shoes propel my whole.

And she regales me as I close –
The drifting notes propose I place
An ear to verge upon the emanation.
Choice of left or right
Invites and overwhelms;
A brief respite, and then
I poise an aural organ,
Seeking out the balance
In the tone from rhythmic flesh.

O Holy Grail, the sweet spot!

Honed in stereophony and
Mastered out of euphony:
Her music
Diaphragms of luscious areolae
Give the tune

Atop a vibrant bass –
Quivers in the
Belly of her breast.
And presently
I fall beneath a spell of heady music
As her reproductive cushions do the rest.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011


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No Money. No Honey.

In today’s murderously barbarous world outside; life
without money was like that bumble bee; boisterously
buzzing and harboring unprecedented love all right;
but without even the tiniest iota of mesmerizing
honey,

In today’s satanically uncouth world outside; life
without money was like that ocean; blissfully
undulating and harboring unsurpassable love all right;
but without even the slightest pinch of tantalizing
salt,

In today’s delinquently treacherous world outside;
life without money was like that tree; celestially
breathing and harboring invincible love all right; but
without even the most diminutive trace of enchanting
fruit,

In today’s derogatorily disdainful world outside; life
without money was like that sky; endlessly extending
and harboring insurmountable love all right; but
without even the most infinitesimal trickle of
voluptuous cloud,

In today’s ignominiously salacious world outside; life
without money was like that rose; majestically crimson
and harboring unshakable love all right; but without
even the most mercurial shade of ingratiating scent,

In today’s lugubriously monotonous world outside; life
without money was like that bird; gleefully flying and
harboring unstoppable love all right; but without even
the most ethereal speck of quintessential nest,

In today’s plaintively parasitic world outside; life
without money was like that pinnacle; unflinchingly
towering and harboring perpetual love all right; but
without even the most transient ray of Omnipotent
Sunlight,

In today’s remorsefully licentious world outside; life
without money was like that eye; flirtatiously
fluttering and harboring insurmountable love all
right; but without even the most evanescent mirror of
resplendent sight,

In today’s preposterously invidious world outside;
life without money was like that well; mystically
hollow and harboring tremendous love all right; but
without even the most minuscule speck of indispensable

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Feel The Music

What is music and why is it here?


Music is made for the ear.

To be made and played for many of decades.


To be embraced by different cultures and race,

Music

the heart of man


Only it seems now only a few understand

Music.


The upbeat the down beat the chords the rhythm it plays.

Exchanging and changing forever.

Music.


Not one man can take the responsibility for making the music the music made us.


You have to trust in the

Music

Classical Jazz, Swing, Country everything it brings.

Music.


Although music has a lot of names it will always remain the same


Music will always change.


The dramatic character of a story.

It will always end with the final glory.

Because of its graceful authority

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Spectator ab Extra

As I sat in the Café I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

I sit at my table en grand seigneur,
And when I have done, throw a crust to the poor;
Not only the pleasure itself of good living,
But also the pleasure of now and then giving:
So pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
So pleasant it is to have money.

They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
And how one ought never to think of one’s self,
How pleasures of thought surpass eating and drinking—
My pleasure of thought is the pleasure of thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

II
Le Diner

Come along, ‘tis the time, ten or more minutes past,
And he who came first had to wait for the last;
The oysters ere this had been in and been out;
Whilst I have been sitting and thinking about
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

A clear soup with eggs, voilà tout; of the fish
The filets de sole are a moderate dish
A la Orly, but you’re for the red mullet, you say:
By the gods of good fare, who can question today
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

After oysters, sauterne; then sherry; champagne,
Ere one bottle goes, comes another again;
Fly up, thou bold cork, to the ceiling above,
And tell to our ears in the sound that they love
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

I’ve the simplest of palates; absurd it may be,
But I almost could dine on a poulet-au-riz,
Fish and soup and omelette and that – but the deuce –
There were to be woodcocks, and not Charlotte Russe!
So pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!

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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

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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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The Piano Lurched

Contact was sharp…

I jolted from immediacy of senses torn from mind:
Such was I at unawares with you –
To strike with Master’s single chord that pounced and caught me blind –
Piano, how you lurched and rent me through!

Delightful music welcomed me to drift in quasi-syncope:
Soft tranquillo sought to rest my bones –
I glided reaching largo; sang with sweet cantabile, and
Forte let me in to louder tones.

I cried with lacrimoso; squirmed when agitato flared;
My hearing rang when fingers danced the trill.
And so it was, this maestro grand was genius declared –
Acting out in music for the thrill.

Translating pen to piano, this player takes me back thro’ time…
In the chamber, fine composers charm:
I watch the manic hands of Liszt abound with tunes sublime;
Mozart teased my mood with stark alarm.

Then entered Bach to demonstrate his mathematic flare,
Calculating notes supreme of form.
And I – the minion audience – sat wanting in my chair,
Having heard my idols all perform.

Did Darwin’s theory tell at all why Man evolved this way?
Why would music help him to survive?
But scientific muse had veered my thoughts from this display, and
Music called: ‘Just listen - you’re alive! ’

The maestro draws conclusion; lets the piano die a death
To stand as wood, inert just as before –
A pollished casket lined with keys, at calm from naught of breath,
Bade me scream: ‘Bravo! ’ and ‘Hail! Encore! ’

He wakes the box to dance again with noble works of art:
Resurrected; fully primed with zest.
Now even I was back to life with reason in my heart –
Heightened from the pounding in my chest.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved


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Money

Hallelujah
Now I lay, I lay me down to sleep
Hallelujah
Almighty dollar
I praise the Lord afford my roll to keep
Hallelujah
Almighty dollar
Money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Money, money
I need more money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Yeah, I need more money
And give us these days
Our daily bread
Only you we praise
Almighty dollar
Money
My personal saviour
Money
A material lust
Money
Life's only treasure
Money
In God we trust
And if I should die before I wake
Hallelujah
Almight dollar
I'm gonna take the money that I make
Hallelujah
Almighty dollar
Money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Money, money
I need more money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Yeah, I need more money
And give us these days
Our daily bread
Only you we praise

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Money (In God We Trust)

Hallelujah
Now I lay, I lay me down to sleep
Hallelujah
Almighty dollar
I praise the Lord afford my roll to keep
Hallelujah
Almighty dollar
Money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Money, money
I need more money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Yeah, I need more money
And give us these days
Our daily bread
Only you we praise
Almighty dollar
Money
My personal saviour
Money
A material lust
Money
Life's only treasure
Money
In God we trust
And if I should die before I wake
Hallelujah
Almight dollar
I'm gonna take the money that I make
Hallelujah
Almighty dollar
Money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Money, money
I need more money
I need more money
Just a little more money
Just a little more money
Yeah, I need more money
Yeah, I need more money
And give us these days
Our daily bread
Only you we praise

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Money Back Guarantee

By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, will jennings
1983
One day youll be glad I came around
I may be the best thing you have found
Aint much you can count on in this town
I swear Im speaking from my heart
And I want let you down
Chorus:
My love is guaranteed
Youre never going to see the end of me
Ive got all you need
Like a ginsu knife or a bamboo steamer
Late-night t.v. hawk-eyed screamer
Youll be the coffee Ill be the creamer
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaranteed
I just do my best to stay alive
Got a junked out car but you should see me drive
Racing down st. charles avenue
Aint got much but what I got
Will sure be good for you
Chorus:
My love is guaranteed
Youre never going to see the end of me
Ive got all you need
Like a ginsu knife or a bamboo steamer
Late-night t.v. hawk-eyed screamer
Youll be the coffee Ill be the creamer
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaranteed
Flyin down the highway of my dreams
You will find my crazy love
Is always what it seems
Chorus:
My love is guaranteed
Youre never going to see the end of me
Ive got all you need
Like a ginsu knife or a bamboo steamer
Late-night t.v. hawk-eyed screamer
Youll be the coffee Ill be the creamer
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaranteed
Im money back, money back guaran...
Money back, money back guaran...
Money back, (money back) money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaran...
Money back, money back guaran...
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaran...
Money back, money back guaran...

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Money Talks

Scene: into flashs den - a night club
Scene: in flashs den, a night club partly converted into an office.
Sung by flash, floosies and spivs:
Show me a man who says he can live without bread
And Ill show you a man whos a liar and in debt.
Theres no one alive who cant be purchased or enticed
Theres no man alive who wouldnt sell for a price,
Money talks and were the living proof,
There aint no limit to what money can do
Money talks, money talks.
Money cant breathe and money cant see,
But when I pull out a fiver people listen to me.
Money cant run and money cant walk,
But when I write out a cheque I swear to God I hear money talk.
Money talks and, baby, when youve been bought
You pay attention everytime money talks.
Money talks, money talks.
Money talks and theres no doubt about it
Money talks and we cant live without it,
Whats the point of living unless youve got money?
I just couldnt function without money.
Money talks, money talks,
Money talks, money talks.
Show me an upright respected man
And Ill have him licking my boots when I put money in his hand.
It rots your heart, it gets to your soul,
Before you know where you are youre a slave to the green gold.
Money talks and were the living proof
There aint no limit to what money can do.
Money talks you out of your self-respect,
The more you crave it the cheaper you get.
Money talks, money talks.
Money buys you time and people listen,
Money can buy a smile and make life worth living.
If youre ugly money can improve you.
I just couldnt face the world without mazuma.
Money talks, money talks.

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A January Fear

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
My class is all here
Down to each little sneer

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Those cute little creatures
Have nothing to fear

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Still knowing that teacher's
not entirely all here

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Each little tear
Makes it perfectly clear

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
A day off is coming
And hopefully near

a sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
It's harder and harder
Maintaining my leer

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps my behavior's
becoming quite queer

A sick day a sick day
I'll not make it all year
Perhaps in the morning
I'll call in and cheer

A SICK DAY A SICK DAY
I GOT A PAIN IN MY EAR

Alas...I can hear my principle sneer
With a resigning smirk easy to hear
NO SICK DAY NO SICK DAY
SORRY MY DEAR

NO SICK DAYS NO SICK DAYS
REMAINING THIS YEAR

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Sick of Being Sick

I’m sick of being rejected;
I’m sick of being emotionally neglected;
I’m sick of crying so many tears;
I’m sick of running away from my fears;
I’m sick of my childhood nightmares;
I’m sick of being told to do those stupid dares;
I’m sick of not having friends;
I’m sick of all these dead ends;
I’m sick of myself for what I’ve become;
I’m sick of feeling oh so numb;
I’m sick of watching myself drown;
I’m sick of my heart falling to the ground;
I’m sick of this life;
I’m sick of this everyday strife;
I’m sick of not having a dad;
I’m sick of getting mad;
I’m sick of my childhood past;
I’m sick of being harassed;
I’m sick of the dread;
I’m sick of wanting to be dead;
I’m sick of being the one who’s always so strong;
I’m sick of being somebody that doesn’t belong! !

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Spies

Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, wheres my j?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, wheres my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!
Spies are all around me, spies in every county
Spies, my heads are bounty
Snipers in the air
The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch dont like richters bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...
Generation x is the title they use
When I skate down mackenzie avenue.
Everybody that I see is lookin at me like a vandal
Maybe cause Im (wheelin? ) in some dickies and some sandals
Man, I know what you mean when you talk about the neighborhood
The old folks always sayin that we aint no good
Talkin to my pops about my music
Sayin we should keep it down and not abuse it
Man, I dont sweat those old ass bastards.
I just sit on the curb and with my herb and get plastered
They work all day long, they seem so bored
I think their ass should reside in the county morgue
Theyre postin up signs, man I think they should chill
Talkin if I dont call the cops then my neighbor will
Cause from city to city its all the same.
The neighborhood watch is a big ass gang
Sick and tired the way they walk,
Sick and tired the way they talk
Sick and tired the things they say, sick and tired. wheres my j?
Sick and tired, same old song, sick and tired wheres my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!
Spies are all around me, spies in every county
Spies, my heads are bounty
Snipers in the air
The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch dont like richters bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I think theyre walkin towards me, I light another...
Every night when the street lights came on
We used to gather round, take rips from that bong.
Cause john wayne country, republican block
A bunch of overweight housewives that wanna be cops.
Cook and clean, the life of slave
Take kottonmouths advice and call jenny craig
Its not in my control, when we were in school
Wanna see us livin life like the golden rule

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How To Make Money

how to make money,
baby;
how to make money;
tell me sweet love
you tell me
how to make money
how to make an easy billion


the world’s full of it
in cyberspace
and in shopping malls;
the world’s full of money schemes
in our real world
and where we buy a drink
or get more fries


it’s full on
about how to make money,
baby;
how to make money


make money, pal
they say
doing nothing;
I’ve got an auto system
and all you need is internet
and all you’ve got to do
is sit back and let the dollars roll
into your bank account


so tell me
how to make money,
baby;
how to make money


come in to this meeting
another group says
and we’ll show you how
show you how easy it is
how easy it is to make money:
it’s auto, auto, auto, fully automated
and the money keeps coming;
the money rolls
rolls in, rolls in, rolls in

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OH! I can't SAY that....(a revision)

I'm sick of f\%king Facebook,
sick of emails,
sick of people talking,
sick of my work radio beeping,
I'm sick of words.

I am being cluttered to death by words....
I am sick of listening to crazies on the bus,
sick of television spewing out banality.

Sick of voices, sick of billboards, sick of typing.

I am word sick.

I am sick of people
The more they let me know them the less I care.
I don't care what your baby did.
don't give a f$ck about what you ate for dinner.
I don't even f*ckin care if your grandpa died.
Sick, sick, sick, I am making myself sick
just writing this sh#t down.
Nothing anyone has to say is of any importance at all
that includes me.
I am drowning in words, and voices, and mundane ideas.

I am sick of people trying to 'set the world on fire'
But I do wish them luck....

because some men just want to see the world burn.

I'm sick of f&cking texts and even more sick of phone calls.
I am sick of adverts on the telly.

I am fed up with peoples life stories.

I don't care what you have been through,
as long as you will let me sleep with you.

And I will only sleep with you
if you promise to wear a ball gag.

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I Am Sick......

i am sick of your justice...
sick of dead bodies strewn,
sick of your bursts of gunfire,
and your bombs without conscience.
sick of the napalm fingers of your equality,
trading flesh for nickels and dime.
sick of your powder and your pills,
sick of the rape of the young girl
beneath your flag!
i am sick of your nuclear bibles,
sick of your buying and trading.
i am sick of the pound of your oil rigs,
sick of the stink of your morality.
i am sick of your hanging trees,
your courtrooms stacked.
i am sick of the money you sleep with,
sick of your colorless freedom.
i am sick of your smokestacks gone silent.
sick of your riot squads gassing.
i am sick of the amendments you've twisted,
sick of your hate and your prejudice...
i am sick of your slavery,
your prisons, your human rights violations.
i am sick of your political lies....

revolution, by common bond,
the choice of integrity, or death!
the dignity of the human soul demands,
that we live or we die!

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Silas Stingy

Once upon a time there lived an old miser man
Once upon a time there lived an old miser man
By the name of silas stingy
By the name of silas stingy
He carried all his money in a little black box
He carried all his money in a little black box
Which was heavy as a rock
Which was heavy as a rock
With a big padlock
With a big padlock
All the little kids would shout
All the little kids would shout
When silas was about
When silas was about
Chorus:
Chorus:
Money, money, money bags
Money, money, money bags
Money, money, money bags
Money, money, money bags
There goes mingy stingy
There goes mingy stingy
There goes mingy stingy
There goes mingy stingy
Money, money, money bags
Money, money, money bags
Money, money, money bags
Money, money, money bags
There goes mingy stingy
There goes mingy stingy
There goes mingy stingy
There goes mingy stingy
Silas didnt eat, which was just as well
Silas didnt eat, which was just as well
He would starve himself for a penny
He would starve himself for a penny
He wore old clothes and he never washed
He wore old clothes and he never washed
cause soap cost a lot
cause soap cost a lot
And the dirt kept him hot
And the dirt kept him hot
All the little kids would shout
All the little kids would shout
When silas was about
When silas was about
(chorus)
(chorus)
In the back of his head
In the back of his head

[...] Read more

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