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After enlightenment, the laundry.

quote by Josh Billings
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Enlightenment

Chop that wood
Carry water
Whats the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Every second, every minute
It keeps changing to something different
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
It says its non attachment
Non attachment. non attachment
Im in the here and now, and Im meditating
And still Im suffering but thats my problem
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Wake up
Enlightenment says the world is nothing
Nothing but a dream, everythings an illusion
And nothing is real
Good or bad baby
You can change it anyway you want
You can rearrange it
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Chop that wood
And carry water
Whats the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
All around baby. you can see
Youre making your own reality. everyday because
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
One more time
Enlightenment. dont know what it is
Its up to you
Enlightenment. dont know what it is
Its up to you everyday
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Its always up to you
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Its up to you, the way you think

song performed by Van Morrison
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Enlightenment Isn't Lumpy

Enlightenment isn't lumpy
even if sometimes you've got your heart
stuck in your throat
like a bird in a chimney
warming up like a phoenix
to go the way of the sumac leaves
and the ghosts of smoke
on the pyres of the sky burials
of the Canada geese.
Just because November
can't feel its pulse
and the garden snakes are nesting
like a sloppy knot of wavelengths
deep in the cold heartwood
of a rootless tree that can feel
the brutal chill of serpent fire
running up its spine like a lightning rod
doesn't mean enlightenment's a placebo
you have to keep away from the kids.
It's real enough to be unattainable
without disrespecting the integrity
of the picture plane.
It hides out in the open
where no one ever thinks to look.
The simpler it gets
the bigger the book you need to write
in order to conclude ambiguously
you do and you don't not understand it.
Say not two
and all is well.
And mean it deeper than you can say it
so that pain doesn't adulterate the child
that's trying to transcend it
by hanging on to the lifelines
of his fire-proof constellations
like the kites of distant stars burning in the wind.
Enlightenment doesn't care
if you've lost your integrity.
Your absence of self-respect
for someone who isn't there
is a rare opportunity
to uphold the dignity
of stars and rivers and trees.
Enlightenment's just the blossom.
It's not the fruit
of what there is yet to be.
The smell of autumn
in a windfall of apples
cradled like small planets in your arms.
Enlightenment isn't salvation from pain.

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Dirty Laundry

I make my living off the evening news
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry
Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I dont have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em all around
We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
Comes on at five
She can tell you bout the plane crash with a gleam
In her eye
Its interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry
Can we film the operation?
Is the head dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a
Running bet
Get the widow on the set!
We need dirty laundry
You dont really need to find out whats going on
You dont really want to know just how far its gone
Just leave well enough alone
Eat your dirty laundry
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre stiff
Kick em all around
Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybodys pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry
We can do the innuendo
We can dance and sing
When its said and done we havent told you a thing
We all know that crap is king
Give us dirty laundry!

song performed by Don Henley
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Sappy

And if you say your prayers
You will make God happy
And if you do whats true
You will make me happy
Ill keep you in a jar
And you will seem happy
Ill give you breathing holes
You will think youre happy, now
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
And if you save yourself
You will make him happy
Hell bring you fine rewards
Then you will feel happy
Ill keep you in my room
Im sure youll be happy
And if you save your soul
You will think youre happy now
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Early version of sappy.

song performed by Nirvana
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Trash Bag

1 bag cement mold
10 inch leather titleist golf bag
2006 kia rio side air bags
1900 s tapestry bag
1,000 face value silver bag buyers
100ft x 200ft plastic bag
16 flow-through infuser bags order e-mail
2001 accura air bags
1966 chevy pickup air bags
1st responder bag subdued
40 catchers equipment bag
10 dolars chanell bags for sale
$20,000 beanie bag
2 004 ben hogan golf bag
100 cotton childrens sleeping bags
2 mil designer bags
12 ounce bean bag
20 pound bag rabbit food
35 bag dirt james teen wendy
10 inch screen laptop bags
20 gallon garbage bags
30 gallon trash bags odor
17 leather laptop bag clearance
42 rolling duffle bag
2 section 17 roller cooler bag
40 long sportsequipment bag
2005 ford taurus air bag
06 toyota corolla air bag
3 x 8 cello bags
1 ball roller bowling bags
10020 garbage bags
250 liter bag
21 sensational patchwork bags
4 wheeler cargo bags
3 shelf laundry bag cart
2002 altima air bags
2003 crown victoria air bag recall
2 pc motorcycle tour bag
2 x3 zip lock bags
360121 bat bag
$1 tea bag holder
400 gauge thick poly bags
2005 jackie o gucci hand bag
1 bag cement mixers
1920s clutch bag
1.5 oz bag reg chips
1 bag popcorn serving size
2000 saturn sl air bag light
11 gallon garbage bags
306 leather tour sissy bag

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Dirty Laundry

I make my living off the Evening News
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry
Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I don't have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em all around
We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
comes on at five
She can tell you 'bout the plane crash with a gleam
in her eye
It's interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry
Can we film the operation?
Is the heir dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a running bet
Get the widow on the set!
We need dirty laundry
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're stiff
Kick 'em all around
Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybody's pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry
We can do "The Innuendo"
We can dance and sing
When it's said and done we haven't told you a thing
We all know that Crap is King
Give us dirty laundry!

song performed by Lisa Marie Presley
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Tomorrow is the laundry day

Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though tomorrow’s bright and sunshine strikes
Seduce you to play outside
But duty must be priority
Washing the dirty to be clean again
And your day will feel light
After you do that

Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though tomorrow’s cloudy and can’t stop rainy
Bother you with damp laundry
But duty is duty
Washing the dirty so it won’t be stinky
And your day will be bright
After you do that

Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though your laundry is already loaded
And you don’t want to see or touch
But duty must be completed
Washing the dirty so it ready to be used
And your day will feel more comfortable
After you do that

Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though your heart grumbles “Later”
No, do not listen that lazy one
Duty is to be worked not be grouch
Washing is a fun job if your heart happy
And your day will be victory
After you do that

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Elighten And Enlightenment

something disturbs
me about the verb

to enlighten and the
word

enlightenment:

as a kid,
-i mean when i was, ....
sometimes I am.... childish and
and unworried irresponsible....party no party gay...-

being enlightened

had to have

some connection with light...

the sun of the day's light,
the candle's light by night,

someone flashes light into your face with force,

or
someone deprive you from light so you can see it
better...

as a kid

light and enlightenment

were two identical twins....

it took me

years....
i mean decades....to figure out that

being enlightened

has nothing to do with light
(any form of photonic, electric-magnet, hi frequency vibration, and strings energy....)

[...] Read more

poem by Atef Ayadi
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Laundries

She beats the laundry
on the rocks before the stream.

She beats the laundry
til the linens are clean.

She lays out the laundry
in the hot sun to dry
heated by the sun
and sterilized.

She beats the dirty souls
on the rocks before the baptismal stream.

She beats the dirty souls
til the dirty souls are clean.

She lays out the dead souls
in the blazing sun
til they are sterilized.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Uhf

Put down your remote control
Throw out your tv guide
Put away your jacket
Theres no need to go outside
Dont you know that we control the horizontal
We control the verticle, too
We gonna make a couch potato out of you
Thats what we gonna do now
Dont change the channel
Dont touch that dial
We got it all on uhf
Kick off your sneakers
Stick around for a while
We got it all on uhf
Dont worry bout your laundry
Forget about your job
Just crank up the volume
And yank off the knob
We got it all, we got it all, we got it all on uhf
Disconnect the phone and leave the dishes in the sink
You better put away your homework
Prime time aint no time to think
All you do is make yourself a tv dinner
Press your face right up against the screen
We gonna show you thangs you aint ever seen
If you know what I mean, now
Dont change the channel
Dont touch that dial
We got it all on uhf
Kick off your sneakers
Stick around for a while
We got it all on uhf
Dont worry bout your laundry
Forget about your job
Just crank up the volume
And yank off the knob
We got it all, we got it all, we got it all on uhf
You can watch us all day
You can watch us all night
You can watch us any time that you please
You can sit around and stare at the picture tube
till your brain turns into cottage cheese
Well, now
Dont change the channel
Dont touch that dial
We got it all on uhf
Kick off your sneakers
Stick around for a while
We got it all on uhf
Dont worry bout your laundry

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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Immigrants in Our Own Land

We are born with dreams in our hearts,
looking for better days ahead.
At the gates we are given new papers,
our old clothes are taken
and we are given overalls like mechanics wear.
We are given shots and doctors ask questions.
Then we gather in another room
where counselors orient us to the new land
we will now live in. We take tests.
Some of us were craftsmen in the old world,
good with our hands and proud of our work.
Others were good with their heads.
They used common sense like scholars
use glasses and books to reach the world.
But most of us didn’t finish high school.

The old men who have lived here stare at us,
from deep disturbed eyes, sulking, retreated.
We pass them as they stand around idle,
leaning on shovels and rakes or against walls.
Our expectations are high: in the old world,
they talked about rehabilitation,
about being able to finish school,
and learning an extra good trade.
But right away we are sent to work as dishwashers,
to work in fields for three cents an hour.
The administration says this is temporary
So we go about our business, blacks with blacks,
poor whites with poor whites,
chicanos and indians by themselves.
The administration says this is right,
no mixing of cultures, let them stay apart,
like in the old neighborhoods we came from.

We came here to get away from false promises,
from dictators in our neighborhoods,
who wore blue suits and broke our doors down
when they wanted, arrested us when they felt like,
swinging clubs and shooting guns as they pleased.
But it’s no different here. It’s all concentrated.
The doctors don’t care, our bodies decay,
our minds deteriorate, we learn nothing of value.
Our lives don’t get better, we go down quick.

My cell is crisscrossed with laundry lines,
my T-shirts, boxer shorts, socks and pants are drying.
Just like it used to be in my neighborhood:
from all the tenements laundry hung window to window.
Across the way Joey is sticking his hands
through the bars to hand Felipé a cigarette,

[...] Read more

poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
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Laundress

Dhobis usually operate from door to door collecting dirty linen from households. After a day or two, they return the linen washed, sometimes starched and ironed. Dhobis were the forerunners on the Indian subcontinent to modern professional dry cleaners. Since the dhobi charges are much lower than those of dry cleaners, they are popular with most households.Each dhobi marks a unique symbol or character on garments belonging to a particular household. This is marked in black indelible ink to prevent it from being washed off. Dhobis may wash the clothes themselves or outsource it to dhobis who only wash clothes. In Andhra Pradesh this caste is known as Rajaka (Chakali) and they make up 6% of the Andhra Pradesh population.This group is known as Madvala or Rajaka in the state of Goa.In Mumbai, dhobis are an integral feature of the city.All the dhobis wash their linen in the Mahalaxmi area known as Dhobi Ghat. This area is strangely popular with foreign tourists looking for a piece of quintessential Indianness. Another region in South Mumbai, Dhobitalao, used to be a lake where British soldiers used to have their uniforms washed about 120 years ago.There are also streets called Dhobi (or Dhoby) Ghaut in Singapore and Penang (Malaysia) , where Indian dhobis used to carry out their ancestral business.Dhobi remains British Armed Forces slang for washing (i.e. 'doing your dhobi') . In addition, washing powder is known as 'dhobi dust'.
Sometimes, a colloquial verb 'to dhobi' is used. The sentence 'My clothes were stinking, so I took them off and dhobied them native fashion by bashing them on a wet rock' from The Gold of Malabar by Berkely Mather, an author who had spent many years in India.The word 'dhobi' has been absorbed into the Malay language as 'dobi' to mean 'laundry'. So 'kedai dobi' means 'laundry shop'. A laundry shop in Malaysia may be owned by any race, not only Indian.Dhobi itch is an alternative name for jock itch. In Sri Lanka too the rheumatoid culture is same and they treat them as low caste and offer a small chair to sit! What a ridiculous World is this?

What are you doing my little Angel at this Twilight by the River bank?
I thought you're a Goddess and I am a Buffalo boy
To my stingy Master's herd!
Please do not run like a reindeer
I am your faithful brother.
If you wait for a while I play the flute
And if you are interested the tune
I spend my whole life to teach you,
Why you wash others dirt and their sins?
If I have a tiny World of my own
Definitely I give you a Buffalo ride
But I am only a Buffalo boy
And not a seasonal Jockey!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Fitration Bags

2.5 gallon shopvac bags
1995 ktm 400 rxc hard bags
2006 black leather prada bags list
24 x 36 shrink bags
18 x 9 padded bag
3m printscape personalized gift bag
20lb bag parrot food
40 inch round duffle bag
2001 explorer air bag light flashes
3rd street sissy bar bag
1997 nissan air bag sensor
12x18 carry bag
1001 grab bag ideas
2000 explorer air bag light flashing
15,000 cfm used bag dustcollector
12 lb turkey recipies in bag
14.1 laptop messenger bags
3306 plan tackle bag
10 pound bag of endives yield
4 mil zip bags
$2 grab bag nsd
1970s bean bag
18th century shooting bags
48 superman bop bag
2006 kawasaki ninja 250r bags
1976 electra glide saddle bags
1940 s english aoutomobiles gas bags
40 lb bag of cement
07 cr-v safety bag plastic pillar
2 gauge ear plug grab bag
1998 saturn sl2 air bag module
40 degree helix sleeping bag
3x4 organza gift bags
3 bags full consignment
2000 mercedes air bag problem
2ply snap handle bag
1987 bmw k75s saddle bags
2003 bozo desktop bop bag
135 approved electronic flight bag
2005 toyota matrix side air bags
2006 bag gucci spring
3 insulated sleeping bags
4in bag ice one
2008 street bob hard bags
45 micron bag
250 ninja nelson-rigg saddle bag
24 wheeled garment bag
1996 lincoln continental air bag suspension
2006 aka boule bag
400d horn bag

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Enlightenment

ENLIGHTENMENT
Wonder revolves word
whirlwind of change resolving
s[tr]a[n]ge conundrums stirred

s[tr]a[n]ge = sang strange sage stage an age range rang

4 April 2005 revised 3 January 2009
robi03_1190_robi03_0000 HXX_EIX
for previous version see below

Enlightenment

Wind whirls wonder word
beyond deaf and resolve, solves
all conundrums stirred...

12 April 2005

Enlightenment poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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As Much As I Love The Stars

As much as I love the stars, I know
the spirit must seek its lost radiance
in the midst of the filth of this world,
even when its third eye is trying
to wash it off in tears it really means.
Under the half-closed eyelid
of the pine cone pagoda in oceanic meditation
is a fire-seed waiting for immolation
like an overdue urn about to give birth.
And do you see how the moon
feathers the waves with silver,
and the breathing waters so much
like the flesh of a woman undulating
under the caress of an unaccustomed hand
shines back like fish swimming through a starmap?

As above so below. Same with inside and outside.
Astrophysics is psychology. Noumena, phenomena.
Are you looking for a unified, field theory of your mind?
Study that small sacred syllable of a black ant
with the torn wing of a butterfly
under full sail in its mandible
it's taking back to the heap
of a thriving passage tomb burial
like a high card it's going to lay on the table
without intending to call anyone's bluff.

The moon on the lake isn't timed.
Death's not too late. Life's not too early.
Not all the flowers bloom at once
in a wave of mass hysteria at a sports stadium.
Time is as generous to the dandelion
as it is to the hyacinth or the rose.

When a total eclipse of the soul
can be as illuminating to a firefly
as the enlightenment of the full moon
can be to the mad at harvest time
and the night bird sings on the same branch
out of the same longing
as the mourning dove does
on the burgeoning bough,
how far must a wave look for the grail
before it realizes it's swimming in it
and by virtue of it having never been lost or found,
like the universe you're surrounded by
dipping its other wing in the cup you drink from
like blood from your own prophetic skull
or an elixir of love from the goblet of a black tulip,
as an antidote to falling into a cult of trances,

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Superficial Seekers Of Enlightenment

many profess to seek
spiritual enlightenment
harmony of emotion
harmony in focus reason

many are avid readers
practise self meditation
exercise body soul train
pray selective seekers

focus in strict discipline
filter out preconceived bias
narrow band frequency
single discipline dependency

Master easily detects loose focus seeds?
Eastern philosophy self enlightenment?
Christianity devotee religions intolerant?
Islam previous prophet knowledge reject?

New cults guard ideas sensitive exclusive?
Christians fail to read apply Bible in depth?
Muslims pray by rote forget to apply mercy?
all believers must love others as themselves.

Compassion Mercy Justice are enlightenment.
Catholics kill Protestants Sunni kill Shiites.
Message love turned into hate by false believer.
God loves accepts all people all sinners all poor.

Blessed are peacemakers true children of God.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Scouring The Patina Of Time Off With Stars

Scouring the patina of time off with stars
the way I used to grind pyrex plates
with varying grades of carborundum
down into telescopic mirrors, then silver them
with a vapour of aluminum to add
to the luster of their parabolic eyes.
Been looking into the darkness so long
I'm beginning to shine on my own.
Now from moment to moment
there's as much darkness coming out of the light
as there are black holes sand-blasting
the hour-glass shape of this bubble of the multiverse
with firestorms of desert stars as I make my way
from one oasis to the next where the mirages
wander in out of the night to drink
from the reflections of their own faces
with hands cupped like the hulls of leaking lifeboats.

I don't believe a life of delusion is any less painful
than a life of enlightenment, even if
your scarecrow self is finally standing naked
under a full moon that's come to realize
that an orbit isn't the same as an enlightenment path
that can loop back on itself like a snake or a shoelace
or the retrograde motion of Mars, without
wandering off the road you were meant to walk
because that's the way you went. Give them both
sixteen ounce gloves and let reality
have it out with delusion in eternity
like two siblings of the same dark mother
trying to get some rest from the racket
after giving up on interceding
by putting some distance between them
light years out of earshot of the nightbirds
that have been longing for her return ever since.

Even the first bliss of the blossoming of illumination
grows sad if it's not wholly shared like an orchard
with everyone as the wind turns around like a fist
flowering into a more open-handed approach to life.
Enlightenment is in everyone like a wavelength
is in a particle when no one is watching.
And if today you're an angel in a coma of ice
tomorrow the diamonds will fall out of your dark halo
and slowly thaw you out as you get closer to the light
like a comet plunging into the sun like the vapour
of a bridal veil you've finally shed like a snakeskin
that had to come off like the white-out of the eclipse
you were living, to see the stars that were rooted
in the darkness within emerging out of your own starmud

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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You Say You've Taken All The Tension Out Of Your Life

You say you've taken all the tension out of your life,
but to me you've just planed a mountain range
into a parking lot. Your sacred syllable is flatlining
like a synonym for death, and your eyes,
o those eyes were so blue once
I could have made a cult of the colour
and happily sacrificed myself on the altar
of a sky burial where the angels reverted to ravenous birds,
but now they're one way windows on a braille runway
for blind aliens on the Nazca plateau.

You talk like a tourist guide
with a photo-shopped cheeriness
in the same tone of immaculate voice
as if genesis were beginning all over again
with a logo in the mouth of a vociferous abyss.
I believe in your natural kindness,
those summers of feeling so much like August
out in the fields of an abandoned farm,
where the light kissed the fieldstones on the forehead
as sweetly as it did the eyelids of the wild flowers.
I believe in the integrity of your search,
the sincerity of your confusion, the sway
of your compassion for cellular tissue
over the ideological abstraction of the living details
extracted by vampiric points of view.

Life is messy, soiled, tantrically spoiled,
and even when the moon spices the wine
with love potion number nine, most of the time
we're still drinking out of a dirty cup,
but I know you're not blind to the rapture
of the fireflies showing off to the stars,
or the waterlilies shining like a starmap in a swamp.
You see the green candelabra of the maple saplings
rooted in the decay of the mothering stump.
I know there's love in you. I've gone
pearldiving in your sea. And whatever
the coral reefs that rip the hull
out of your moonboat now, I've seen
that great Atlantean heart of yours
and its irrepressible buoyancy
rising to the surface like a breaching whale.

You don't need a broom to sweep
the mirages of an encroaching desert off your stairs.
You don't need to cherry-pick your delusions
to accommodate a school of gerry-mandered gurus.
Just let your thoughts roost like birds at dusk
in the black walnuts for the night, and rinse

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Touch The Hand

Stand up - if ya wanna fight
I'm tellin' all the women - stand up for your rights
If ya wanna wear the trousers - you wanna act like a man
I'd love to trade ya places - love to be your thang
I'd do all the shopping - collect you favorite suit
Press all the laundry - polish all your boots
And if you brought me flowers - I'd meet you at the door
Have your dinner ready - your slippers on the floor
And when day turns to night and you feel alright
And I turn out the lights

Touch the hand of the man who'll make ya woman
Touch the hand of the man who'll make it right
Touch the hand of the man who'll make ya woman
Cause when day turns to night and you feel alright
And I turn out the lights

Stand up - it's alright
Love to play the woman - love to play your wife
Light you favorite cigarette - pour your favorite drink
Wear your best apron - wash the dishes in the sink
Get your shaving lotion - turn the shower on
Warm up your bathrobe - keep my baby warm
Read ya bedtime stories - while you take a nap
Turn on the TV - put out the cat
But when day turns to night and you feel alright
And I turn out the lights..

Touch The Hand"

Stand up - if ya wanna fight
I'm tellin' all the women - stand up for your rights
If ya wanna wear the trousers - you wanna act like a man
I'd love to trade ya places - love to be your thang
I'd do all the shopping - collect you favorite suit
Press all the laundry - polish all your boots
And if you brought me flowers - I'd meet you at the door
Have your dinner ready - your slippers on the floor
And when day turns to night and you feel alright
And I turn out the lights

Touch the hand of the man who'll make ya woman
Touch the hand of the man who'll make it right
Touch the hand of the man who'll make ya woman
Cause when day turns to night and you feel alright
And I turn out the lights

Stand up - it's alright
Love to play the woman - love to play your wife

[...] Read more

song performed by Bryan Adams from Waking Up The Neighbours
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Going Home

I'm going home
There I am in my bedroom
I'm safe and snug and snoring
And so glad to be there
I'm going home
None of this ever happened
But God, I really did it
Still nothing has changed
I'm going home
I'm going home
To my own room to all the mess
To all the dirty laundry
It looks so good I don't care
I'm just so glad to be back home
Sweet home
I wonder if anyone missed me
Or have I been gone so long
They thought that I died
How many said I wonder what happened to Alice
How many shrugged or laughed
How many cried
But I don't give a damn
'Cuz I'm going home
I'm going home
To my own room to all the mess
To all the dirty laundry
It looks so good I don't care
I'm just so glad to be back home I'm going home
Nothing can stop me now
I'm going home
Nothing can stop me now
I'm going home
Nothing can stop me now
I'm going home
Nothing can stop me now
I'm going home
Nothing can stop me now
I'm going home
Nothing can stop me now

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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