The mouth and the purse, shut.
Spanish proverbs
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Related quotes
Baby Blues
(bth australian version)
I wonder whats happening to me
Things are changing so dramatically
Ill search for you, youre not really there
Still I wonder knowing that you do care
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
He is the best thing to come my way
Perfect picture baby blues in my day
He is the best thing to come around
Sleeping in his cradle safe and sound
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
Baby blues, baby blues
Baby blues, baby blues
Baby baby, baby blues
Baby baby, baby blues
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
song performed by Cranberries
Added by Lucian Velea
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God Save The South
It was a red hot night night in mobile
Sweat glistened on the reverends chin
His mohair suit was shinin
He told us all about sin
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
Across the street in the pool hall
Bubba put the eight ball down
Its a high five celebration
They passed the jack around
Its wall to wall in wall street
Were livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Shut your mouth
Some long haired boys with guitars
Playin behind the chicken wire
Theyre goin up to new york city
Gonna sing about atlantas fire
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
So,yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Like A Guitar Solo Scream
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
'Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that...
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh! '
Oh some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
Some...
People,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
While others love to stir up stuff.
And then there's people...
Who love to fuss.
And then there's people...
Who love to anger.
And...
Love they do to fist-i-cuff.
And love they do to rush cuss.
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
Ohhhh...
Some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
While others love to stir up stuff.
But not you,
You want to be heard...
Like a soloist with nerve.
Wah-wah-wah.
You want to be heard...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mouth To Mouth
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
A legend is what you bought
I give you cold water,
And you swear it was wine
You bought time
If you can fool yourself,
Then why not them?
Just keep passing it,
Mouth to mouth to mouth
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
A legend is what you bought
I give you cold water,
And you swear it was wine
You bought time
If you can fool yourself,
Then why not them?
Just keep passing it,
Mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
Bring it out, bring it out
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
Peeled your skin off,
Leave a bungle of nerves
I give you a wet noodle,
You swear that it was my tongue
A sharp one
Instead of that same old
Mouth to mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, I cant bring him back to life
Bring it out, bring it out
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Ahhhhey!
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life ...
This is getting old
[...] Read more
song performed by Faith No More
Added by Lucian Velea
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Heaven In My Mouth Tonight
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
The Kingdom of our God is here
Heaven is in my heart
The presence of his majesty
Heaven is in my heart
And in his presence joy abounds
Heaven is in my heart
The light of holiness surround
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
We are a temple for his throne
Heaven is in my heart
And Christ is the foundation stone
Heaven is in my heart
He will return to take us home
Heaven is in my heart
The Spirit and the Bride say come
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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X-Ecutioner Style (feat. Black Thought)
(feat. Black Thought)
From the top
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up when Im talking to you
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Im about to br
Wasnt that fun?
Lets try something else
Forty-five calibre killer from out of the filler
Definitely going to show yall brothers how you not a gorilla
Smooth talking, fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, break thriller
Lets hit em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinking, standing on solid ground
And still be sinking, submerging in the parks
Still be linking, plucked beef when it starts
To f**k your thinking, its not a mirage
Im in the motherf**king track, yo, from out the garage
With an if, you to duck, but its hard to dodge
In the back of the spine where my dawgs, they lie
Going to flip it straight up, ripping apart your squad
X-ecutioner style, cuts and blends like a syringe
Hanging you from each of your limbs
See me coming through the party hard without no bodyguard
Smoking something, stomping on each of you Tims
Im the B-to-the-L, the A, the C, King
And when it comes to planning
The thought to keep thinking, man
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
song performed by Linkin Park
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mouth
You gave me this
made me give
your silver grin
still sticking it in
you have soul machine
soul machine
the longest kiss
peeling furniture days
drift madly to you
pollute my heart drain
you have broken at me
broken me
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth
your loaded smiles
pretty just desserts
wish it all for you
so much it never hurts
you have soul machine
stone at me
all your mental armor drags me down
we can't breathe when you come around
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth mouth
mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
we've been missing long before
never found our way home
we've been missing long before
where we'll find our way
you gave me this
made me give
you have soul machine
broken free
all your mental armor drags me down
we can't breathe when you come around
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth mouth
mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
all your mental armor
all your mental armor
and your mouth
mouth
song performed by Bush from Razorblade Suitcase
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks
1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,
That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass
Under the old trees with rosy fruit.
In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a
basket,
The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.
Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.
Fayne snatched for it and missed;
Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small
Finely cut features in a dance of delight;
Fayne with one sweep flung at his face
All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shut Down
Tach it up, tach it up
Buddy gonna shut you down
It happened on the strip where the road is wide
Two cool sharps standin side by side
Yeah, my fuel injected stingray and a four-thirteen
Were revvin up our engines and it sounds real mean
Tach it up, tach it up
Buddy gonna shut you down
Declinin numbers at an even rate
At the count of one we both accelerate
My stingray is light the slicks are startin to spin
But the four-thirteens really diggen in
Gotta be cool now power shift here we go
Superstock dodge is winding out in low
But my fuel injected stingrays really startin to go
Im gettin the traction Im ridin the clutch
My pressure plates burnin that machines too much
Pedals to the floor hear the dual quads drink
And now the four-thirteens lead is startin to shrink
Hes powered by ram induction but its understood
I got a fuel injected engine sittin under my hood
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son
Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,
Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!
Quenched youth, and is that thy purse?
Even such limp slough as the snake has left
Slack to the gale upon spikes of whin,
For cast-off coat of a life gone blank,
In its frame of a grin at the seeker, is thine;
And thine to crave and to curse
The sweet thing once within.
Accuse him: some devil committed the theft,
Which leaves of the portly a skin,
No more; of the weighty a whine.
Pursue him: and first, to be sure of his track,
Over devious ways that have led to this,
In the stream's consecutive line,
Let memory lead thee back
To where waves Morning her fleur-de-lys,
Unflushed at the front of the roseate door
Unopened yet: never shadow there
Of a Tartarus lighted by Dis
For souls whose cry is, alack!
An ivory cradle rocks, apeep
Through his eyelashes' laugh, a breathing pearl.
There the young chief of the animals wore
A likeness to heavenly hosts, unaware
Of his love of himself; with the hours at leap.
In a dingle away from a rutted highroad,
Around him the earliest throstle and merle,
Our human smile between milk and sleep,
Effervescent of Nature he crowed.
Fair was that season; furl over furl
The banners of blossom; a dancing floor
This earth; very angels the clouds; and fair
Thou on the tablets of forehead and breast:
Careless, a centre of vigilant care.
Thy mother kisses an infant curl.
The room of the toys was a boundless nest,
A kingdom the field of the games,
Till entered the craving for more,
And the worshipped small body had aims.
A good little idol, as records attest,
When they tell of him lightly appeased in a scream
By sweets and caresses: he gave but sign
That the heir of a purse-plumped dominant race,
Accustomed to plenty, not dumb would pine.
Almost magician, his earliest dream
Was lord of the unpossessed
For a look; himself and his chase,
As on puffs of a wind at whirl,
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
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Word Of Mouth
Ive been trying to get a message to you,
But the operator cant put me through,
Because the vandals went and wrecked all the telephones.
And all my enemies are spreading bad news,
You wont call me, thats why Im calling you,
To put you straight about the rumors theyre spreading about me back home.
I should have known, sooner or later,
Youd get the news, sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
Somehow we lost communication,
My only chance in my situation,
Is that the word of mouth gets my message through.
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth says that Ive gone insane,
That wine and women have affected my brain.
Well whos the big mouth spreading the news again?
The word of mouth says Im round the bend,
Its all over, this is the end.
Exaggeration sure gets the better of people who send[? ].
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth said I should be put in my place.
The word is out Im in disgrace -- a waste of space.
But if they say it, say it to my face.
People talking, trying to dig up the dirt,
There are so many lies around.
They spread their gossip and the rumors around this town.
Word of mouth, face to face,
My word of mouth has stated my case,
And Im saying Im coming back home to you.
You should have know sooner or later,
Youd get the news sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
The word of mouth,
Shut your mouth,
Shut your face!
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Two Dreams
I WILL that if I say a heavy thing
Your tongues forgive me; seeing ye know that spring
Has flecks and fits of pain to keep her sweet,
And walks somewhile with winter-bitten feet.
Moreover it sounds often well to let
One string, when ye play music, keep at fret
The whole song through; one petal that is dead
Confirms the roses, be they white or red;
Dead sorrow is not sorrowful to hear
As the thick noise that breaks mid weeping were;
The sick sound aching in a lifted throat
Turns to sharp silver of a perfect note;
And though the rain falls often, and with rain
Late autumn falls on the old red leaves like pain,
I deem that God is not disquieted.
Also while men are fed with wine and bread,
They shall be fed with sorrow at his hand.
There grew a rose-garden in Florence land
More fair than many; all red summers through
The leaves smelt sweet and sharp of rain, and blew
Sideways with tender wind; and therein fell
Sweet sound wherewith the green waxed audible,
As a bird’s will to sing disturbed his throat
And set the sharp wings forward like a boat
Pushed through soft water, moving his brown side
Smooth-shapen as a maid’s, and shook with pride
His deep warm bosom, till the heavy sun’s
Set face of heat stopped all the songs at once.
The ways were clean to walk and delicate;
And when the windy white of March grew late,
Before the trees took heart to face the sun
With ravelled raiment of lean winter on,
The roots were thick and hot with hollow grass.
Some roods away a lordly house there was,
Cool with broad courts and latticed passage wet
From rush-flowers and lilies ripe to set,
Sown close among the strewings of the floor;
And either wall of the slow corridor
Was dim with deep device of gracious things;
Some angel’s steady mouth and weight of wings
Shut to the side; or Peter with straight stole
And beard cut black against the aureole
That spanned his head from nape to crown; thereby
Mary’s gold hair, thick to the girdle-tie
Wherein was bound a child with tender feet;
Or the broad cross with blood nigh brown on it.
Within this house a righteous lord abode,
[...] Read more
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Third Book
'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.
For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!
Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.
Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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III. The Other Half-Rome
Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!
There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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La Muse Vénale (The Venal Muse)
Ô muse de mon coeur, amante des palais,
Auras-tu, quand Janvier lâchera ses Borées,
Durant les noirs ennuis des neigeuses soirées,
Un tison pour chauffer tes deux pieds violets?
Ranimeras-tu donc tes épaules marbrées
Aux nocturnes rayons qui percent les volets?
Sentant ta bourse à sec autant que ton palais
Récolteras-tu l'or des voûtes azurées?
II te faut, pour gagner ton pain de chaque soir,
Comme un enfant de choeur, jouer de l'encensoir,
Chanter des Te Deum auxquels tu ne crois guère,
Ou, saltimbanque à jeun, étaler tes appas
Et ton rire trempé de pleurs qu'on ne voit pas,
Pour faire épanouir la rate du vulgaire.
The Venal Muse
Muse of my heart, you who love palaces,
When January frees his north winds, will you have,
During the black ennui of snowy evenings,
An ember to warm your two feet blue with cold?
Will you bring the warmth back to your mottled shoulders,
With the nocturnal beams that pass through the shutters?
Knowing that your purse is as dry as your palate,
Will you harvest the gold of the blue, vaulted sky?
To earn your daily bread you are obliged
To swing the censer like an altar boy,
And to sing Te Deums in which you don't believe,
Or, hungry mountebank, to put up for sale your charm,
Your laughter wet with tears which people do not see,
To make the vulgar herd shake with laughter.
— Translated by William Aggeler
The Venal Muse
Muse of my heart, of palaces the lover,
Where will you, when the blast of winter blows
In the black boredom of snowed lights, discover
A glowing brand to warm your violet toes?
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Baudelaire
Added by Poetry Lover
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Get Up. Shut Up. And Move
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
If you want things to improve,
You've got to...
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Nobody's living their life for you.
While you sit back,
To approve what they do!
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Nobody is here to pamper you.
You've been much too spoiled,
And selfish too!
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Under The Weather
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
I wish that I was still fifteen
Debbie Harry and Steve McQueen
I found the angel in my dream, sucked her dry
and cut her wing
LA foodstore cabinet
Get up, shut up, give me Nurofen Plus
Shut up, it hurts, feel I've been hit by a bus
Get up, shut up, you know you don't understand
I'm feeling under the weather (weather)
From the womb, into school
Changing faces, breaking rules
Circumstances make you bleed
Sew the wounds so you will heal
'Cause there's no substitute for pain
Histrionics, broken frames
Build a fire to thaw my brain
LA foodstore cabinet
Get up, shut up, give me Nurofen Plus
Shut up, it hurts, feel I've been hit by a bus
Get up, shut up, you know you don't understand
I'm feeling under the weather (weather)
I don't know why I do this time and time again
'Cause all my drowning sorrows became my friends
Get up, shut up
Get up, shut up
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
Yeah, I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
LA foodstore cabinet
Get up, shut up, give me Nurofen Plus
Shut up, it hurts, feel I've been hit by a bus
Get up, shut up, you know you don't understand
I'm feeling under the weather (weather)
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shut Up
You say,
I should do it differently.
I dont,
Necessarily agree.
Stand up!
Sit down!
Be nice!
Did ya hear me ask for your advice?
Dont bother,
Trying to tell me your beliefs.
Dont want to,
Know which way its good to be.
Do this!
Do that!
On track!
Do me a favor and dont talk back!
Round and round,
But the conversation always ends where it began.
Round and round,
And I need a vacation.
My god,
Ive had it from you!
Shut up!
Dont want to hear your voice.
Shut up!
Im sick of all the noise.
Theres nothing you can say to me,
So get away from me.
Shut up!
Blah blah, blah blah, blah blah, blah blah.
Thats what,
It sounds like you said to me.
You nag and you brag and I gag,
Theres so much beauty in what we have.
You must,
Have better things that you can do.
Or just,
Love all around me too.
What you want,
What I need.
Oh please!
I think you get off,
On hearing yourself speak.
Round and round,
But the conversation always ends where it began.
Round and round,
And I need a vacation.
My god,
Ive had it from you!
Shut up!
[...] Read more
song performed by Kelly Osbourne
Added by Lucian Velea
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