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No plea is best.

Scotch proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Please Dont Let Me Love You

Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by ralph jones
Oh! [d] plea-ease - dont let me [g] love you
Just be-[d] cause Im feelin [a7] blue
And [d] plea-ease - dont let me [g] kiss you
cause I [d] know you-[a7] ll be un-[d] true.
Because youre [a7] sweet dear, I want to [d] love you
[e7] plea-ease - stay away from my [a7] heart
And [d] plea-ease - dont let me [g] love you
cause I [d] know you-[a7] ll break my [d] heart.
Oh! plea-ease - dont call me darlin
When I know you dont love me
And plea-ease - dont whisper sweetheart
For I know it just cant be
When Im lonely, I want you only
Where is the dream I once knew
Oh! plea-ease - dont let me love you
cause I know youll be untrue.

song performed by Hank Williams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Santa Bring My Baby Back To Me

(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
I dont need a lot of presents
To make my christmas bright
I just need my babys arms
Wound around me tight
Oh oh santa hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me
The christmas tree is ready
The candles all aglow
But with my baby far away
What good is mistletoe
Oh oh santa, hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me
Please make these reindeer hurry
Well their time is drawing near
It sure wont seem like christmas
Until my babys here
Fill my sock with candy
And a bright and shiny toy
You wanna make me happy and fill my heart with joy
Then santa, hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me
Please make these reindeer hurry
Well their time is drawing near
It sure wont seem like christmas
Until my babys here
Fill my sock with candy
And a bright and shiny toy
You wanna make me happy and fill my heart with joy
Then santa, hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me
Then santa, hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Zilch

By david jones, micky dolenz,
Michael nesmith and peter tork
1st part
Zilch!
Mister dobalena, mister bob dobalena
Mister dobalena, mister bob dobalena
Mister dobalena, mister bob dobalena
Mister dobalena, mister bob dobalena
2nd part
Zilch!
China clipper calling alameda
China clipper calling alameda
China clipper calling alameda
China clipper calling alameda
3rd part
Zilch!
Never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense.
Never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense.
Never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense.
Never mind the furthermore, the plea is self defense.
4th part
Zilch!
It is of my opinion that the people are intending.
It is of my opinion that the people are intending.
It is of my opinion that the people are intending.
It is of my opinion that the people are intending.

song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ive Changed My Plea To Guilty

Im standing in the dock
With my innocent hand on my heart
Ive changed my plea
Ive changed my plea to guilty
Because freedom is wasted on me
See how your rules spoil the game
Outside there is a pain
Emotional air raids exhausted my heart
And its safer to be inside
So, Im changing my plea
And no one can dissuade me
Because freedom was wasted on me
See how your rules spoil the game
Something I have learned
If there is one thing in life Ive observed
Its that everybodys got somebody
Ooh no, not me
So Ive changed my plea to guilty
And reason and freedom is a waste
Its a lot like life

song performed by Morrissey
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Dont Want To Go On Without You

Bert berns/jerry wexler
I dont want to
Go on without you
Its so bad to be alone
Oh baby come home
I need you
My room is so blue
I keep seein your face
Oh, every place
Here in the gloom
Of my lonely room
I hold her memories
And smell her sweet perfume
I cant stand to
Live on without you
Oh my darlin hear my plea
Cmon back to me
Here in the gloom
Of my lonely room
I hold her memories
And smell her sweet perfume
I cant stand to
Live on without you
Oh my darlin hear my plea
Cmon back to me
I cant stand to
Go on without you
Oh my darlin hear my plea
Go on without you
cant stand to (no,no,no,no,)
Go on without you
Oh my darlin hear my plea
Go on without you.......
I cant stand to.......

song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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To All Who Thirst

As the deer panteth for the waterbrooks
So my soul longeth after thee
Oh my Father in Heaven
Can you hear my desperate plea?

My soul cries out to you
In a dry and thirsty land
Revive me oh Lord, quench my raging thirst
Reach down from heaven and take my feeble hand

There is a famine in my soul
And it hungers after heavens food
There's a raging thirst in my spirit
If only I could quench this thirst I would

I have tasted this food and drank from the well
Now nothing else will do
I am ruined for all of this life
Now all I want is all of you

Oh listen to my plea
Oh Christ the risen King
I need to hear your Spirit speak
I need to hear the angels sing

For I have wandered in this desert
And it has brought me too my knees
And every footprint in the desert sand
Is marked by anguished plea's

Forget me not Oh Lord my God
For I remember thee
Those moments that we spent alone
In your Holy Sanctuary

And I was robbed of all my words
In that place before your throne
I knelt and wept, and cried with joy
I knew I'd never be alone

And now your Spirit comes to me
And a heavenly angel sings
A small still voice it says to me
' I will bear you on eagle's wings'

Arise my my child and thirst no more
For I have heard your plea
Reach out and grasp my outstretched hand
It's time to come away with me

poem by Frank McEleny
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Word is a plea

Word is a plea
Action is a plea
Plea and pretence
Is the cause of
Self destruction.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Mean To Me

She came all the way from america
Had a blind date with destiny
And the sound of te awamutu
Had a truly sacred ring
Now her parents are divorced
And her friends committing suicide
I could not escape
A plea from the heart
You know what it means to me
She said dont walk away
Im down on my knees
So please dont be mean to me
So I talked to you for an hour
In the bar of a small town hotel
You asked me what I was thinking
I was thinking of a padded cell
With a black and white t.v.
To stop us from getting lonely
I could not escape
A plea from the heart
You know what it means to me
She said dont walk away
Im down on my knees
So please dont be mean to me
No, I could not escape
A plea from the heart
Mysterious sympathy
I couldnt wait for a chance
To walk out the door
You know what it means to me
I saw you lying in the arms of a poet
I heard him tell you t...tantalising lies
Well whaddya know, whaddya know
I could not escape
Youre down on the floor
You know what it means to me
I couldnt wait for a chance
To walk out the door
Mean...
You know what it means
In the arms of a poet
You know what it means

song performed by Crowded House
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hearts Of Stone

(words & music by ray/jackson)
Hearts made of stone will never brake
cause your love is never there, they just dont care
You can ask and plea, please, please, please work
And all your love is there to stay
These hearts of stone will cause you pain
Although you love there has stopped just the same
You can ask and plea, please, please, please work
And all your love is there to stay
But theyll say no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
You daddy know, I thought I knew hearts made of stone
Hearts made of stone will never brake
cause your love is never there, they just dont care
You can ask and plea, please, please, please work
And all your love is there to stay
Cause theyll say no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
You daddy know, I thought I knew hearts made of stone

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Funeral Of Hearts

Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the sun
Shining upon
The tomb of your hopes and dreams so frail
He was the moon
Painting you
With it's glow so vulnerable and pale
Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the wind, carrying in
All the troubles and fears you for years tried to forget
He was the fire, restless and wild
And you were like a moth to that flame
The heretic seal beyond divine
a prayer to a god who's deaf and blind
The last rites for souls on fire
Three little words and a question -why?
Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Funeral Of Hearts

Loves the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the sun
Shining upon
The tomb of your hopes and dreams so frail
He was the moon
Painting you
With its glow so vulnerable and pale
Loves the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the wind, carrying in
All the troubles and fears here for years tried to forget
He was the fire, restless and wild
And you were like a moth to that flame
The heretic seal beyond divine
Pray to God whos deaf and blind
The last nights the souls on fire
Three little words and a question why
Loves the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you

song performed by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shake The Disease

Im not going down on my knees
Begging you to adore me
Can you see its misery
And torture for me
When Im missunderstood
Try as hard as you can
Ive tried the hardest I could
To make you see
How important it is for me
Here is a plea
From my heart to you
Nobody knows me
As well as you do
You know how hard it is for me
To shake the disease
That takes hold of my tongue in situations like these
Understand me
Some people have to be
Permanently together
Lovers devoted to each other forever
Now Ive got things to do
And Ive said before
That I know you have too
When Im not there
In spirit Ill be there
Here is a plea
From my heart to you
Nobody knows me
As well as you do
You know how important is for me
To shake the disease
That takes hold of my tongue in situations like these
Understand me
Here is a plea
From my heart to you
Nobody knows me
As well as you do
You know how hard it is for me
To shake the disease
That takes hold of my tongue in situations like these

song performed by Hooverphonic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Just A Closer Walk With Thee

I am weak but Thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long as I walk
Dear Lord, close to Thee.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
Through this world of toils and snares
If I falter Lord, who cares?
Who with me my burden shares?
None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
When my feeble life is o'er
And time for me will be no more
Guide me gently, safely o'er
To Thy kingdom dear Lord, to Thy shore.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
--- Instrumental to fade ---

song performed by Randy Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Final Plea

I'm sorry I have hurt you
I didn't mean it

Im sorry if i have been a bitch
It happens to the best of us

This is my finally plea
If you want my heart, its yours, take it

This is my finally plea
If you love me
Then show it

I'm sorry for the things that I've done that has pissed you off
But aren't we all human

I'm sorry for the things that I will do to hurt you
I fucked things up in the past so I apologize for the future

This is my finally plea
I’m flawed, as you already know
So you can take your chances

I'm sorry for what you had to go through
I only wish I could have been there

I'm sorry for what will happen to you
But at least you have me now

(4-29-05)

poem by Brandi Young
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Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 39

(I John 2:1. If any Man Sin, We Have an Advocate)

My sin! My sin, my God, these cursed dregs,
Green, yellow, blue-streaked poison hellish, rank,
Bubs hatched in nature's nest on serpents' eggs,
Yelp, chirp, and cry; they set my soul a-cramp.
I frown, chide, strike, and fight them, mourn and cry
To conquer them, but cannot them destroy.

I cannot kill or coop them up: my curb
'S less than a snaffle in their mouth: my reins
They as a twine thread snap: by hell they're spurred:
And load my soul with swagging loads of pains.
Black imps, young devils, snap, bite, drag to bring
And pick me headlong hell's dread whirlpool in.

Lord, hold Thy hand: for handle me Thou mayst
In wrath: but oh, a twinkling ray of hope
Methinks I spy Thou graciously display'st.
There is an advocate: a door is ope.
Sin's poison swell my heart would till it burst,
Did not a hope hence creep in 't thus and nurse 't.

Joy, joy, God's son's the sinner's advocate,
Doth plead the sinner guiltless, and a saint.
But yet attornies' pleas spring from the state,
The case is in: if bad, it's bad in plaint.
My papers do contain no pleas that do
Secure me from, but knock me down to, woe.

I have no plea mine advocate to give:
What now? He'll anvil arguments great store
Out of His flesh and blood to make thee live.
O dear-bought arguments: good pleas therefore.
Nails made of heavenly steel, more choice than gold
Drove home, well-clenched, eternally will hold.

Oh! Dear-bought plea, dear Lord, what buy 't so dear?
What with Thy blood purchase Thy plea for me?
Take argument out of Thy grave t' appear
And plead my case with, me from guilt to free.
These maul both sin and devils, and amaze
Both saints and angels; wreathe their mouths with praise.

What shall I do, my Lord? What do, that I
May have Thee plead my case? I fee Thee will
With faith, repentance, and obediently
Thy service gainst Satanic sins fulfill.
I'll fight Thy fields while live I do, although
I should be hacked in pieces by Thy foe.

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Taylor
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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The Convocation: A Poem

When Vertue's Standard Ecclesiasticks bear,
Their sacred Robe the noblest Minds revere.
All to its Guidance do their Thoughts submit,
But such who triumph in licentious Wit;
And nauseous Mirth as high Desert esteem,
When rais'd by Scorn upon Religion's Theme
As Kings by Right Divine o'er Nations sway,
As the most worthy, their high Pow'rs obey;
Homage by all is to the Priesthood born,
And none but Fools their Heav'nly Pastors scorn.

Yet censure not the Muse's Freedom here:
If urg'd by Errors, she must seem severe!
Tho' keen her Satyr, she no Envy bears;
Tho' Priests she lashes, she their Function spares.
Nor for ill Members such the Clergy calls,
But on their Shame, and not their Glory, falls.

Of all the Plagues with which the World is curst,
Time has still prov'd that Priestcraft is the worst.
By some, what Notions thro' the World are spread?
On Falshoods grounded, and from Int'rest bred;
Errour has still the giddy World perplext,
Whilst Scripture gilds it with some sacred Text.
This wild Opinions Strife and Faction brings,
The Bane of Nations, the Misrule of Kings.
Priests oft profane what they from Heav'n derive;
Some live by Legends, some by Murders thrive,
Some sell their Gods, and Altar-Rites deface,
With Doctrines some the Brain-sick People craze.

The Pagan prey on slaughter'd Wretches Fates,
The Romish fatten on the best Estates,
The British stain what Heav'n has right confest,
And Sectaries the Scriptures falsly wrest.

Amongst the Tribe, how few are, as they ought,
Clear in their Souls, instructive in their Thought!
The Good, like Prophets, shew their Precepts pure;
The Ill with Craft the Heav'nly Light obscure;
False to their Trust, they lead their Flocks astray,
And with their Errors cloud the sacred Way.

Tho' artless Numbers may my Verses throng,
Yet now Religion's Cause inspires my Song:

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Savage
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Charity

Fairest and foremost of the train that wait
On man's most dignified and happiest state,
Whether we name thee Charity or Love,
Chief grace below, and all in all above,
Prosper (I press thee with a powerful plea)
A task I venture on, impell’d by thee:
Oh never seen but in thy blest effects,
Or felt but in the soul that Heaven selects;
Who seeks to praise thee, and to make thee known
To other hearts, must have thee in his own.
Come, prompt me with benevolent desires,
Teach me to kindle at thy gentle fires,
And, though disgraced and slighted, to redeem
A poet’s name, by making thee the theme.
God, working ever on a social plan,
By various ties attaches man to man:
He made at first, though free and unconfined,
One man the common father of the kind;
That every tribe, though placed as he sees best,
Where seas or deserts part them from the rest,
Differing in language, manners, or in face,
Might feel themselves allied to all the race.
When Cook—lamented, and with tears as just
As ever mingled with heroic dust—
Steer’d Britain’s oak into a world unknown,
And in his country’s glory sought his own,
Wherever he found man to nature true,
The rights of man were sacred in his view;
He soothed with gifts, and greeted with a smile,
The simple native of the new-found isle;
He spurn’d the wretch that slighted or withstood
The tender argument of kindred blood;
Nor would endure that any should control
His freeborn brethren of the southern pole.
But, though some nobler minds a law respect,
That none shall with impunity neglect,
In baser souls unnumber’d evils meet,
To thwart its influence, and its end defeat.
While Cook is loved for savage lives he saved,
See Cortez odious for a world enslaved!
Where wast thou then, sweet Charity? where then,
Thou tutelary friend of helpless men?
Wast thou in monkish cells and nunneries found,
Or building hospitals on English ground?
No.—Mammon makes the world his legatee
Through fear, not love; and Heaven abhors the fee.
Wherever found (and all men need thy care),
Nor age, nor infancy could find thee there.
The hand that slew till it could slay no more,
Was glued to the sword-hilt with Indian gore.

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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Truth

Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,
His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,
Sees, far as human optics may command,
A sleeping fog, and fancies it dry land;
Spreads all his canvas, every sinew plies;
Pants for it, aims at it, enters it, and dies!
Then farewell all self-satisfying schemes,
His well-built systems, philosophic dreams;
Deceitful views of future bliss, farewell!
He reads his sentence at the flames of hell.
Hard lot of man—to toil for the reward
Of virtue, and yet lose it! Wherefore hard?—
He that would win the race must guide his horse
Obedient to the customs of the course;
Else, though unequall’d to the goal he flies,
A meaner than himself shall gain the prize.
Grace leads the right way: if you choose the wrong,
Take it and perish; but restrain your tongue;
Charge not, with light sufficient and left free,
Your wilful suicide on God’s decree.
O how unlike the complex works of man,
Heav’n’s easy, artless, unencumber’d plan!
No meretricious graces to beguile,
No clustering ornaments to clog the pile;
From ostentation, as from weakness, free,
It stands like the cerulian arch we see,
Majestic in its own simplicity.
Inscribed above the portal, from afar
Conspicuous as the brightness of a star,
Legible only by the light they give,
Stand the soul-quickening words—believe, and live.
Too many, shock’d at what should charm them most,
Despise the plain direction, and are lost.
Heaven on such terms! (they cry with proud disdain)
Incredible, impossible, and vain!—
Rebel, because ‘tis easy to obey;
And scorn, for its own sake, the gracious way.
These are the sober, in whose cooler brains
Some thought of immortality remains;
The rest too busy or too gay to wait
On the sad theme, their everlasting state,
Sport for a day, and perish in a night;
The foam upon the waters not so light.
Who judged the Pharisee? What odious cause
Exposed him to the vengeance of the laws?
Had he seduced a virgin, wrong’d a friend,
Or stabb’d a man to serve some private end?
Was blasphemy his sin? Or did he stray
From the strict duties of the sacred day?
Sit long and late at the carousing board?

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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