Quotes like Shoot for the moon -...

Shoot for the moon - if you miss you'll end up in the stars.

quote by Artie Shaw
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Shoot To Thrill

All you women who want a man of the street
But you dont know which way you wanna turn
Just keep a coming and put your hand out to me
cause Im the one whos gonna make you burn
Im gonna take you down - down, down, down
So dont you fool around
Im gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
Yeah
Im like evil, I get under your skin
Just like a bomb thats ready to blow
cause Im illegal, I got everything
That all you women might need to know
Im gonna take you down - yeah, down, down, down
So dont you fool around
Im gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
cause I shoot to thrill, and Im ready to kill
I cant get enough, I cant get the thrill
I shoot to thrill, play to kill
Yeah, pull the trigger
Pull it, pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Oh
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women, with too many pills
I said, shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
cause I shoot to thrill, and Im ready to kill
And I cant get enough, and I cant get my thrill
cause I shoot to thrill, play it again
Yeah
Shoot you down
Yeah
Im gonna get you to the bottom and shoot you
Im gonna shoot you
Oh hoo yeah yeah yeah
Im gonna shoot you down yeah yeah
Im gonna get you down
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Shoot you, shoot you, shoot you, shoot you down
Shoot you, shoot you, shoot you down
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooooh
Im gonna shoot to thrill
Play to kill

[...] Read more

song performed by AC-DC
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Stiff Upper Lip

(young - young)
Well I was out on a drive
On a bit of a trip
Lookin for thrills
To get me some kicks
Now I warn you ladies
I shoot from the hip
I was born with a stiff
Stiff upper lip
Like a dog in a howl
I bite everything
And Im big and Im drawl
And Ill ball your thing
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot from the hip
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot
And I shoot
Shoot from the hip
Yeah I shoot from the hip
Now listen
Well Im workin it out
And Ive done everything
And I cant reform no
Can you feel my sting
Babe I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot from the hip, yeah
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot
And I shoot
And I shoot, shoot, shoot
Shoot from the hip
Well Im out on the prowl
And Ill ball your thing
I got the teeth thatll bite you
Can you feel my sting
Babe I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot from the hip
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot shoot shoot from the hip
I got a (stiff upper lip)
Better believe me (stiff upper lip)
Comin down (stiff upper lip)
See my (stiff upper lip)
Yeah I got a (stiff upper lip)
Stiff upper lip
Stiff upper lip
I got a stiff upper lip
I got a stiff upper lip
Stiff upper lip

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song performed by AC-DC
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Moon, Moon, Crazy Moon

moon, moon, crazy moon
natural moon
torn apart and snoozing moon;
lovely moon, romantic moon
poor poor moon
the romance
plucked out of its drab surface;
moon moon going wild
moon moon running away
from the earth -
O moon, why do you run away from the earth?
does earth touch you in the wrong places
and you've got no Body
to which one could lodge
a complaint about sexual harassment? ?
ah, moon moon, temperamental moon
dark moon
glowing moon;
sexy moon
and old-woman hag of a moon;
moon moon with the best views of the earth
moon moon moon
puts me to sleep and wakes me up
in the middle of nights;
and one day we'll sleep in the moon
and produce babies there
and we'll have the first moon-ish boys and girls
and moon-ly families;
but meanwhile
moon moon driving fanatics
and inspiring love and romance and myths
moon moon eerie moon
moon moon that presides over love and horrors
and evil and good
and naked witches dancing in moonlit groves;
pooor moon moon the earth moon
not as interesting and dramatic as other moons;
don't get too friendly and dropp in -
oh, never dropp in, no one invited you
silly mooonn, no no, you're not invited home to earth
moon moon cheese moon eaten by mice;
but still our dear moon darling moon
moon mooon
our very own earth's moon
as we moo moo like cows
moo moo moo mooo
at our own moon moon moon

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Dont Shoot Shotgun

Run
(run for cover)
For for cover
Dont shoot!
Shoot!
Shes so dangerous
(shotgun!)
(gun!)
(dont shoot shotgun!)
Maybe Im wrong, maybe Im right
Fallin head over heals at the speed of light
Hey little miss heaven on earth
Whoa, wont you walk this way but I see a red alert
Oh, my senses say keep away
So dont shoot!
Dont shoot shotgun
Dream on nightmare
Touch n go
Dove turned destroyer, she cut you up, shes a slave of love
Run for cover, shes so dangerous
Undercover, shes so shameless
Dont shoot shotgun
You got me bitin my lip
Dont shoot shotgun!
Ya shootin straight from the hip
So dont shoot shotgun
Shoot me, baby!
Ow!
Hit n miss, flesh and blood
Shes sweet and indiscreet, she cant get enough
A little midnight madness
Oh baby, you cant hide
So wild n unpredictable
Step aside
cos youre, youre shooting wide
Oh
Shake it, shake it!
Ah, take this, little hit n miss
Oh
Dont shoot shotgun
You got me bitin my lip
Dont shoot shotgun!
Ya shootin straight from the hip
Dont shoot it!
Dont shoot shotgun!
Shake it, shake it!
Aw, take this little hit n miss
Ow!
(dont shoot! shotgun!)
Oh shoot it!

[...] Read more

song performed by Def Leppard
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Shoot High Aim Low

We hit the blue fields
In the blue sedan we didnt get much further
Just as the sun was rising in the mist
We were all alone we didnt need much more
So fast this expidition
So vast this heavy load
With a touch of luck and a sense of need
Seeing the guns and their faces
We look around the open shore
Waiting for something
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
This was to be our last ride
With the steel guitar and the love you give me
Underneath the skin a feeling, a breakdown
Well we sat for hours on the crimson sand
Exchanges in the currency of humans bought and sold
And the leaders seem to lose control
Shall we lose ourselves for a reason
Shall we burn ourselves for the answer
Have we found the place that were looking for
Someone shouted open the door
Lookout
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Feeling of imagination
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
Shoot high aim low
Nothing you can say
Shoot high let go
Takes me by surprise
Shoot high aim low
Who sayss theres got to be a reason
Shoot high let go
Who says theres got to be an answer
We were all alone, we didnt need much more
Shoot high aim low
The suns so hard on this endless highway
Shoot high let go
Shoot high aim low
Ive heard the singers, who sing of love
Shoot high let go
In the blue sedan we never got much further
Shoot high aim low

song performed by Yes
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Shoot High Aim Low

song performed by Yes
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Mr. Moon: A Song of the Little People

O MOON, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?
Down on the hilltop,
Down in the glen,
Out in the clearin',
To play with little men?
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?

O Mr. Moon,
Hurry up your stumps!
Don't you hear Bullfrog
Callin' to his wife,
And old black Cricket
A-wheezin' at his fife?
Hurry up your stumps,
And get on your pumps!
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?

O Mr. Moon,
Hurry up along!
The reeds in the current
Are whisperin' slow;
The river's a-wimplin'
To and fro.
Hurry up along,
Or you'll miss the song!
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?

O Mr. Moon,
We're all here!
Honey-bug, Thistledrift,
White-imp, Weird,
Wryface, Billiken,
Quidnunc, Queered;
We're all here,
And the coast is clear!
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?

O Mr. Moon,
We're the little men!
Dewlap, Pussymouse,
Ferntip, Freak,
Drink-again, Shambler,
Talkytalk, Squeak;
Three times ten
Of us little men!

[...] Read more

poem by Bliss William Carman
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C Moon

C moon c moon c moon is she.
C moon c moon c moon to me.
How come no one older than me
Ever seems to understand the things I wanna to do?
It will be l7 and Id never get to heaven
If I filled my head with glue
Whats it all to you?
C moon, c moon, c moon is she
C moon, c moon, c moon to me
Bobby lived with patty
But they never told her daddy
What their love was all about
She could tell her lover that he thought but
She never was the type to let it out
Whats it all about?
C moon, c moon, oh c moon are we
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
How come no one older than me
Ever seems to understand the things I wanna to do?
It will be l7 and Id never get to heaven
If I filled my head with glue
Whats it all to you?
C moon, c moon, c moon is she
C moon, c moon, c moon to me
Bobby lived with patty
But they never told her daddy
What their love was all about
She could tell her lover that he thought but
She never wanted to let it out
Whats it all about?
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
Well whats it all about?
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
C moon are we

song performed by Paul McCartney
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Moon, We Look to You.

Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.

Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.

Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.

Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!

Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Come Together

One, two, three, four!!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
Here come old flat top,
He come growing up slowly,
He got jo jo eyeball,
He one holy roller,
He got hair down to his knee.
Got to be a joker, he just do what he please.
Shoot me!!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
He wear no shoeshine,
He got monkey fingers,
He got hairy arsehole,
He one holy roller,
He say, "i know you, you know me.
One thing i can tell you is you got to be free."
Come together,
Right now,
Over me.
He bag production,
He got walrus gumboot,
He ono sideboard,
He one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knees
Hold you in his armchair, you can feel his disease.
Come together,
Right now,
Over you.
(shoot!)
(shoot!)
(shoot!)
Ow!
(shoot!)
He roller coaster,
He got early warning,
He got muddy water,
He one mojo filter,
He say, "one and one and one is three."
Got to be good looking, he's so hard to see.
Come together,
Right now,
Stop the war!
(shoot)
(shoot)
Come together,
Come together,
Come together, right!

[...] Read more

song performed by Yoko Ono
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Come Together

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song performed by Yoko Ono
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 1.

CHORUS OF ANGELS, Singing the Glory of God.

To Heaven's bright lyre let Iris be the bow,
Adapt the spheres for chords, for notes the stars;
Let new-born gales discriminate the bars,
Nor let old Time to measure times be slow.
Hence to new Music of the eternal Lyre
Add richer harmony and praise to praise;
For him who now his wondrous might displays,
And shows the Universe its awful Sire.
O Thou who ere the World or Heaven was made,
Didst in thyself, that World, that Heaven enjoy,
How does thy bounty all its powers employ;
What inexpressive good hast thou displayed!
O Thou of sovereign love almighty source,
Who knowest to make thy works thy love express,
Let pure devotion's fire the soul possess,
And give the heart and hand a kindred force.
Then shalt thou hear how, when the world began,
Thy life-producing voice gave myriads birth,
Called forth from nothing all in Heaven and Earth
Blessed in thy light Eagles in the Sun.

ACT I.
Scene I. -- God The Father. -- Chorus of Angels.

Raise from this dark abyss thy horrid visage,
O Lucifer! aggrieved by light so potent,
Shrink from the blaze of these refulgent planets
And pant beneath the rays of no fierce sun;
Read in the sacred volumes of the sky,
The mighty wonders of a hand divine.
Behold, thou frantic rebel,
How easy is the task,
To the great Sire of Worlds,
To raise his his empyrean seat sublime:
Lifting humility
Thither whence pride hath fallen.
From thence with bitter grief,
Inhabitant of fire, and mole of darkness,
Let the perverse behold,
Despairing his escape and my compassion,
His own perdition in another's good,
And Heaven now closed to him, to others opened;
And sighing from the bottom of his heart,
Let him in homage to my power exclaim,
Ah, this creative Sire,
(Wretch as I am) I see,
Hath need of nothing but himself alone
To re-establish all.

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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How to Accompany The Moon Without Walking

Harsh, harsh, the maram grass on the salt dune,
seen by the cricket’s eye against the harbor moon,
anchor-frost and seaward, the lighthouse moon—

the bellbuoy-beating moon, the tiderip bronze
ringing above deep channels and old bones,
the hawsehole moon, where blood and money runs—

foremast and mainmast moon, up harbor still,
island and smokestack moon, and the wind-spill
falling from the sail-throat for the moon to fill—

up harbor, the old wharf moon, the capstan moon,
and round it the capstan bars, the heeling tune,
India Wharf, we'll bring you to Rio soon—

the shipyard moon, the grain-elevator moon,
derrick and gantry, and the turbine croon
sweet under seafoam as a bird in June—

red-warehouse moon, yacht-basin moon, where spars
tangle and telegraph with stays and stars—
hi ho, the queen of accordions and guitars—

ship-chandler moon, sea-boots and Wharf Street shine,
the ropewalk moon that spins in turpentine,
sail-loft invaded with a pour of silver twine—

and high! up spinning! skyscraper tipped on purple!
skyscraper moon, and high! for the stare of people—
skysign and belltower moon, moon for the steeple—

bells breaking bronze, gold, down, the scattered tinkle,
silver-bell moon, cornice and rooftop twinkle,
Christmas and graveyard moon, the tinsel sprinkle—

and dead, the stockyard moon, where blood drips down,
dead longhorn and mute snout; the barrelhouse moon,
moonmusic doubling, rigadoon, jigadoon—

so down, and down, who will be darkened soon,
red and green lights, the pallid airport moon—
ah! on the flying field, the captive balloon!

and cold; for the rim of night, the earth’s black arc,
swings up, blots out the stars, to the last spark;
while, underworld, the moon drowns dead and dark.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Moon poems

1
sometimes I wish
dear moon
sometimes I wish
the earth had five moons
and all so positioned
we can see
one every night and then in twos and in threes
never four (just so for mystery’s sake)
and then all five
all in perfect alignment once a year
just three nights so
and then we’ll all here on earth
go ga ga ga
or moo moo moo looooney
those nights and go crazy
and climb up trees and enact our ape ancestry …

and don’t you be jealous
I asked for four others;
I just want more of you –
just never seem to get enough of you

2
I see you moon
this cool autumn morning
you sing over the river and trees
and you are supported
by your belly-dance troupe of stars

3
ah poor moon
you're just hanging around
and through no fault of your own
you attract all these weirdos
these lunatics
and the vampires and the blood-sucking bats
and the sleep-walkers and murderers
and the flesh-eaters
(the moon made me do it!)
and the lunatics
and the werewolves
and even stock-pickers
and wild women who want to kill Orpheus

O poor moon

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Jean Desprez

Oh ye whose hearts are resonant, and ring to War's romance,
Hear ye the story of a boy, a peasant boy of France;
A lad uncouth and warped with toil, yet who, when trial came,
Could feel within his soul upleap and soar the sacred flame;
Could stand upright, and scorn and smite, as only heroes may:
Oh, harken! Let me try to tell the tale of Jean Desprez.

With fire and sword the Teuton horde was ravaging the land,
And there was darkness and despair, grim death on every hand;
Red fields of slaughter sloping down to ruin's black abyss;
The wolves of war ran evil-fanged, and little did they miss.
And on they came with fear and flame, to burn and loot and slay,
Until they reached the red-roofed croft, the home of Jean Desprez.

"Rout out the village, one and all!" the Uhlan Captain said.
"Behold! Some hand has fired a shot. My trumpeter is dead.
Now shall they Prussian vengeance know; now shall they rue the day,
For by this sacred German slain, ten of these dogs shall pay."
They drove the cowering peasants forth, women and babes and men,
And from the last, with many a jeer, the Captain chose he ten;
Ten simple peasants, bowed with toil; they stood, they knew not why,
Against the grey wall of the church, hearing their children cry;
Hearing their wives and mothers wail, with faces dazed they stood.
A moment only. . . . Ready! Fire! They weltered in their blood.

But there was one who gazed unseen, who heard the frenzied cries,
Who saw these men in sabots fall before their children's eyes;
A Zouave wounded in a ditch, and knowing death was nigh,
He laughed with joy: "Ah! here is where I settle ere I die."
He clutched his rifle once again, and long he aimed and well. . . .
A shot! Beside his victims ten the Uhlan Captain fell.

They dragged the wounded Zouave out; their rage was like a flame.
With bayonets they pinned him down, until their Major came.
A blonde, full-blooded man he was, and arrogant of eye;
He stared to see with shattered skull his favourite Captain lie.
"Nay, do not finish him so quick, this foreign swine," he cried;
"Go nail him to the big church door: he shall be crucified."

With bayonets through hands and feet they nailed the Zouave there,
And there was anguish in his eyes, and horror in his stare;
"Water! A single drop!" he moaned; but how they jeered at him,
And mocked him with an empty cup, and saw his sight grow dim;
And as in agony of death with blood his lips were wet,
The Prussian Major gaily laughed, and lit a cigarette.

But mid the white-faced villagers who cowered in horror by,
Was one who saw the woeful sight, who heard the woeful cry:
"Water! One little drop, I beg! For love of Christ who died. . . ."
It was the little Jean Desprez who turned and stole aside;

[...] Read more

poem by Robert William Service
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Sun-Up

(Shadows over a cradle…
fire-light craning….
A hand
throws something in the fire
and a smaller hand
runs into the flame and out again,
singed and empty….
Shadows
settling over a cradle…
two hands
and a fire.)

CELIA

Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry…. When you try to pick up cherry Celia's shriek sticks in you like a pin.

When God throws hailstones you cuddle in Celia's shawl and press your feet on her belly high up like a stool. When Celia makes umbrella of her hand. Rain falls through big pink spokes of her fingers. When wind blows Celia's gown up off her legs she runs under pillars of the bank— great round pillars of the bank have on white stockings too.

Celia says my father
will bring me a golden bowl.
When I think of my father
I cannot see him
for the big yellow bowl
like the moon with two handles
he carries in front of him.

Grandpa, grandpa…
(Light all about you…
ginger… pouring out of green jars…)
You don't believe he has gone away and left his great coat…
so you pretend… you see his face up in the ceiling.
When you clap your hands and cry, grandpa, grandpa, grandpa,
Celia crosses herself.

It isn't a dream…. It comes again and again…. You hear ivy crying on steeples the flames haven't caught yet and images screaming when they see red light on the lilies on the stained glass window of St. Joseph. The girl with the black eyes holds you tight, and you run… and run past the wild, wild towers… and trees in the gardens tugging at their feet and little frightened dolls shut up in the shops crying… and crying… because no one stops… you spin like a penny thrown out in the street. Then the man clutches her by the hair…. He always clutches her by the hair…. His eyes stick out like spears. You see her pulled-back face and her black, black eyes lit up by the glare…. Then everything goes out. Please God, don't let me dream any more of the girl with the black, black eyes.

Celia's shadow rocks and rocks… and mama's eyes stare out of the pillow as though she had gone away and the night had come in her place as it comes in empty rooms… you can't bear it— the night threshing about and lashing its tail on its sides as bold as a wolf that isn't afraid— and you scream at her face, that is white as a stone on a grave and pull it around to the light, till the night draws backward… the night that walks alone and goes away without end. Mama says, I am cold, Betty, and shivers. Celia tucks the quilt about her feet, but I run for my little red cloak because red is hot like fire.

I wish Celia
could see the sea climb up on the sky
and slide off again…

[...] Read more

poem by Lola Ridge
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Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer in the evening;
Soccer in the morning;
Soccer in spring and fall.

Soccer in the raining;
Soccer in the snowing;
Soccer in winter and summer.

Soccer in between my feet,
where I walk;
Soccer in my heart and mind,
how I live;
Soccer my love and life.

Soccer I wake up and play;
Soccer I hold it to sleep;
Soccer my work and rest.

Soccer I sing a new song;
Soccer I dance the magic steps;
Soccer my tears and joy.

Soccer my Mom buys it for me to play;
Soccer my Dad brings me to the game;
Soccer my dear Love watches me to score.

Soccer I dribble and shoot;
Soccer I pass and fall;
Soccer my glory and downfall.

Soccer I strike to attack;
Soccer I tackle to defend;
Soccer my struggle and survival.

Soccer I receive the flags and the whistles;
Soccer I get the yellow and red card;
Soccer my moves and stop.

Soccer I meet my friends;
Soccer I make my enemies;
Soccer my conflict and peace.

Soccer I play and watch;
Soccer I watch but cannot play;
Soccer my dream and reality.

Soccer I learn the rights;
Soccer I confess the fouls;

[...] Read more

poem by Laijon Liu
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Moon Moon

When Moon Moon says
In case of me
To be a quite poet is possible
In addition, I have to be a cool.

When Moon Moon says
The days have to face
Good ways
To begin its first hour
To get its special power.

When Moon Moon says
I cannot hear anybody’s voice

When Moon Moon says
I can realize my age
To do something better
Not caring any matter.

When Moon Moon says
I can guess
She says something special
Those are needed for all.

When Moon Moon says
I have to face
Some case in any case.

When Moon Moon says
Sometimes, no case can be found
Without she says, like
“Hi! How are you
For the few
With your near dear
Are there any tears in your eyes?
When she says…”

Man can be silent
Ocean can be island
He can be brilliant
Even
You can be toys
When Moon Moon says.

[...] Read more

poem by Manir Hossain
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Stars have eyes! !

Stars have eyes

Did anyone ever see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars full of soul
Look any longer they take control

Did anyone ever see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars behold the sight
Look any longer and glide free like a kite

Did anyone see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars oh what a smile
Look any longer they’ll lite your darkness for a mile

Did anyone see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars share the love
Look any longer you know it comes from above

Well now you’ve seen the eyes on stars
Shared the beautiful soul amazed by their wonder
Enchanted by the smile
And overwhelmed by the love

But look any longer you will see the pain
The pain on the eyes of stars
Never to be concealed by the rain

The eyes on stars cry
Never to be wiped dry
The eyes on stars cry
The eyes on stars cry blood tears
Permanently there reminding of fears

The eyes on stars cry
The eyes on stars cry

Stars eyes cry
Stars eyes cry
Stars eyes cry
They cry blood
Stars eyes cry

Stars eyes smile
Stars have eyes
Stars eyes.

Lerato Ladyfair Shuping

poem by Lerato Shuping
Added by Poetry Lover
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