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Adlai E. Stevenson

Ignorance is stubborn and prejudice is hard.

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Prejudice

IN yonder red-brick mansion, tight and square,
Just at the town's commencement, lives the mayor.
Some yards of shining gravel, fenced with box,
Lead to the painted portal--where one knocks :
There, in the left-hand parlour, all in state,
Sit he and she, on either side the grate.
But though their goods and chattels, sound and new,
Bespeak the owners very well to do,
His worship's wig and morning suit betray
Slight indications of an humbler day

That long, low shop, where still the name appears,
Some doors below, they kept for forty years :
And there, with various fortunes, smooth and rough,
They sold tobacco, coffee, tea, and snuff.
There labelled drawers display their spicy row--
Clove, mace, and nutmeg : from the ceiling low
Dangle long twelves and eights , and slender rush,
Mix'd with the varied forms of genus brush ;
Cask, firkin, bag, and barrel, crowd the floor,
And piles of country cheeses guard the door.
The frugal dames came in from far and near,
To buy their ounces and their quarterns here.
Hard was the toil, the profits slow to count,
And yet the mole-hill was at last a mount.
Those petty gains were hoarded day by day,
With little cost, for not a child had they ;
Till, long proceeding on the saving plan,
He found himself a warm, fore-handed man :
And being now arrived at life's decline,
Both he and she, they formed the bold design,
(Although it touched their prudence to the quick)
To turn their savings into stone and brick.
How many an ounce of tea and ounce of snuff,
There must have been consumed to make enough !

At length, with paint and paper, bright and gay,
The box was finished, and they went away.
But when their faces were no longer seen
Amongst the canisters of black and green ,
--Those well-known faces, all the country round--
'Twas said that had they levelled to the ground
The two old walnut trees before the door,
The customers would not have missed them more.
Now, like a pair of parrots in a cage,
They live, and civic honours crown their age :
Thrice, since the Whitsuntide they settled there,
Seven years ago, has he been chosen mayor ;
And now you'd scarcely know they were the same ;
Conscious he struts, of power, and wealth, and fame ;

[...] Read more

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Hard Rock Kid

(tom lang/additional lyrics by myles goodwyn & mike stone)
Published by goody two tunes, inc./additional publishers - bmi
The boy inside the man, looks hard into the night
The neighborhood cant get to sleep
The stereo is playing something hard and fast
The boy is tough, he plays for keeps
No ones gonna tell him hes too wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
In the shadows, theres a heart thats beating strong
And through the night, he feels the heat
Hes like a stranger as he dances on the stage
Hes made a promise that he cant keep
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a hungry child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a fine line, its a hard time, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
She watches as he turns, pretending not to care
And yet she knows the way he feels
The need for love so strong, together they can win
For now the musics all thats real
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone

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How Do We Deal With Prejudice?

even those of us who've worked very hard
at not being prejudiced, have some type of
prejudice remaining. for example:
it could be prejudice by color, over religion,
over political views, concerning sexual orient-
ation.... prejudice against those who have money,
or those who dont! ...etc.
all prejudice is wrong by nature, most of it grounded
in the 'self'... in our own irrational fears, and our
stubborn streak of ignorance....
it's always taught, but doesnt have to be allowed!
it ofen hides under the banner of morality, or the
flags of patriotism...
we battle prejudice by being open minded, being
willing to listen, and learning to see ourselves
in other people...
if we say we have no prejudices, we have lost,
and prejudice has us bound.
if we admit our prejudices, name them, look at
them with naked eyes and resolve, then we're making
headway....
prejudice in the end is humanity failing to be human!
being human is a 24 hour a day,7 days a week job!

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Its Hard

Any tough can fight - few can play
Any tough can fight - few can play
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any man can claim - few can find
Any man can claim - few can find
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Everyone complains - few can state
Everyone complains - few can state
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card

[...] Read more

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How Hard Is It

(Mad Spider)
Wait a second, draw back, ban this here I come
Stick this business, stock me up, they took me coat with a stun gun
On a Sunday, a bloody Sunday, so what's the resume?
Heads got felt in the force I heard a Milky Way
I caught a heart attack when I heard my cousin (???)
In Avenue D. in Brooklyn New York City
ever since I used my man I moved to Jersey
But realistically, God, could of called me early
Cause I got a big bop I'm wanted by the block
I take a ruff-neck chicken make stop in stone top
Cause I roll with the army of sixty-eight
The Privates' don't make the orders it's the General that makes the wig-wack
Buy her back, buy a cat, I got scratched in a day to kidnap
and at night I was back and the Jeep got attacked by a gang that sold crack
But the posse was strapped it was nothin' but CRAP!!
I got cuffed in the back, in the jail there were rats
So I pulled out my mack to get out of this crap
Though I wish I could zap outta here but I quack like a dog
that pass gats so I put the gas mask on the mic
there were blasts cause I do it it's my task
And all the jumper the guys that I see to me pass the class
Check out the vocab, it'll get out, then get it, do it again
gift of the guy if you're good you're good, if you're bad you're bad
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I wanna know, how hard do you wanna it? (Hard as it can get)
(Pras)
One, two (ONE, TWO), three, four (THREE, FOUR)
Hardcore (HARDCORE), hardcore (HARDCORE)
Yo, watch yourself for your health I'll snatch your last breath
Then I left you up for another one bites the dust
You couldn't ride me if you went behind the bush, gush
Leave the style alone, don't try to follow me
Cause a life of the hood make it a little triggery
So keep your eyes on the prize, don't be surprised
Cause on my half I may pull out a semi-automatic sixty-eight
watch around my back it's mainly static
Droppin' emcees like a bad habit
Here come the Pras with a new package
(Wyclef Jean)
Mad and they ignorance, think they can test the performance of an ancient (RAPPER!!)
Let me break it down in a dialect (BADDER!!)
Easier said than what the mono said
cause there's more than righter rapper, paid for the rapper be-bop
Cause he said everybody's rappin', them and they momma
So when I grab the mic I grab it like a gangster
Microphone sniper cause it'll be the prowler
(Mad Spider)
Launch it, it's trife, no magic, the realistic maggot

[...] Read more

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Hard Times

(jimmy dean/lyrics by myles goodwyn)
Published by acuff rose music, inc. - bmi
Hard times, hard times, hard times, hard times
When the college professor has no class
And the quarterback would rather pass
And the pump jockey complains of gas
Its hard times, hard times
When the taxi driver he cant hack it
And the tennis player cant stand the racket
When allies refuse to pack it, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times
When the elevator cant find the floor
And the doorman he cant find the door
When they give to the rich what they take from the poor, its hard times
Seems your moneys gone before its spent
If youre not busted then youre badly bent
To give it away doesnt make any sense, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times, hard times
Now grandma forgets how to knit
And the wise man has lost his wit
And my tailor feels unfit, its hard times, hard times
When the fashion models lost her poise
And santa clause smashes all the toys
When boys could be girls, and girls could be boys, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times, hard times
When the clock on the walls got no time for jokes
And kreskin says its all a hoax
When the surgeon general chain smokes, its hard times
When the truck driver dont wanna truck
And the hockey player wont touch the puck
And the rock musician dont wanna fool around, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times
Harder times, hard times
I was talking to this lady the other day and she was telling me..........

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A Hard Rains Gonna Fall

(george: like to bring on a friend of us all, mr. bob dylan!)
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
And where have you been, my darling young one?
Ive stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
Ive walked and Ive crawled on six crooked highways,
Ive stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
Ive been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
Ive been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
Its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin,
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin,
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
What did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin,
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin,
Heard ten thousand whisperin and nobody listenin,
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin,
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded in hatred,
Its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, whatll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And whatll you do now, my darling young one?
Im a-goin back out fore the rain starts a-fallin,
Ill walk to the depths of the deepest dark forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
The executioners face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color and none is the number,

[...] Read more

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Stubborn

Stubborn, stubborn
He was stubborn as a mule.
He refused to budge
in the world so cruel.
'Cause what good would it do,
one step or two?
It would get him nowhere
'cause the word's so cruel.

Stubborn, stubborn.
He was stubborn as a mule.
His eyes were defiant
with fire and fuel.
He'd been born into pain
where no one had cared.
He was alone in the world
but never was he scared.

He was just stubborn.

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She Works Hard For The Money

She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right

She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right

Onetta there in the corner stand
and wonders where she is and
it's strange to her
some people seem to have everything

Nine a.m. on the hour hand
and she's waiting for the bell
and she's looking real pretty
just wait for her clientele

She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right

She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right

Twenty five years have
come and gone
and she' seen a lot of tears
of the ones who come in
they really seem to need her there

It's a sacrifice working day to day
for little money just tips for pay
But it's worth it all
just to hear them say that they care

She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right

She already knows
she's seen her bad times
she already knows
these are the good times

[...] Read more

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A Hard Rains A-gonna Fall

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
Ive stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
Ive walked and Ive crawled on six crooked highways,
Ive stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
Ive been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
Ive been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, and its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin,
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin,
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin,
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin,
Heard ten thousand whisperin and nobody listenin,
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin,
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And its a hard, and its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
And its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And its a hard, its a hard, its a hard, its a hard,
Its a hard rains a-gonna fall.
Oh, whatll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, whatll you do now, my darling young one?
Im a-goin back out fore the rain starts a-fallin,
Ill walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioners face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,

[...] Read more

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Homophobe

Rewrite of the classic Elvis hit, Hound Dog

You ain't nothin' but a homophobe
Prejudice accusin' and finger pointin' all the time
You ain't nothin' but a homophobe
Prejudice accusin' and finger pointin' all the time
Well, if you knew what was good for you
You'd stay outta my closet
'Cause it's for sure you ain't never gonna be friend to me or my kind

When you call me out
Call me a sex addict pervert and say that all I'm interested in is....
Well, I think we all know better
That's just a lie
Yeah, you call me a freak and say all I'm lookin' for is....
Well, I think we all know better
That's just a lie
Yeah, if you knew what was good for you
You'd stay outta my closet
'Cause it's for sure you ain't never gonna be a friend to me or my kind

You ain't nothin' but a homophobe
Prejudice accusin' and finger pointin' all the time
You ain't nothin' but a homophobe
Prejudice accusin' and finger pointin' all the time
Well, if you knew what was good for you
You'd stay outta my closet
'Cause it's for sure you ain't never gonna be friend to me or my kind

When you call me out
Call me a sex addict pervert and say that all I'm interested in is....
Well, I think we all know better
That's just a lie
Yeah, you call me a freak and say all I'm lookin' for is....
Well, I think we all know better
That's just a lie
Yeah, if you knew what was good for you
You'd stay outta my closet
'Cause it's for sure you ain't never gonna be a friend to me or my kind

When you call me out
Call me a sex addict pervert and say that all I'm interested in is....
Well, I think we all know better
That's just a lie
Yeah, you call me a freak and say all I'm lookin' for is....
Well, I think we all know better
That's just a lie
Yeah, if you knew what was good for you
You'd stay outta my closet
'Cause it's for sure you ain't never gonna be a friend to me or my kind

[...] Read more

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Mr. Darcy

Is Obama Mr. Darcy,
fighting prejudice with pride,
or is it simply that he’s classy,
superior, and rarely snide?
Until with Hillary he dances
as Darcy would not with Miss Bennet
he’ll not succeed Bill with romances
in the White House, and the Senate
will be the only place where he
can demonstrate, while laughing at
himself, that he’s not truly lost in
a world where every Democrat
must be more feminist than Austen.
Though pride’s abominable, it
is far less reprehensible
than sensibility sans wit
in women who aren’t sensible.

Inspired by Maureen Dowd’s Op-Ed article in the NYT on August 3,2008 (“Mr. Darcy Comes Courting”:
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Barack Obama must continue to grovel to Hillary Clinton’s dead-enders, some of whom mutter darkly that they will not only not vote for him, they will never vote for a man again. Obama met for an hour Tuesday with three dozen top Hillaryites at a hotel here, seeking their endorsement and beguiling their begrudging. He opened the session by saying that he knew there had been frustration about what they saw as sexism during the primary. The Los Angeles Times reported that Hillary die-hards want to enshrine a whine in the Democratic platform about how the primaries “exposed pervasive gender bias in the media” and call on party leaders to take “immediate and public steps” to denounce any perceived bias in the future. That is one nutty idea. Perhaps it is because feminists are still so busy cataloging past slights to Hillary that they have failed to mount a vivid defense of Michelle Obama, who has taken over from Hillary as the one conservatives like to paint as a harridan….
The odd thing is that Obama bears a distinct resemblance to the most cherished hero in chick-lit history. The senator is a modern incarnation of the clever, haughty, reserved and fastidious Mr. Darcy. Like the leading man of Jane Austen and Bridget Jones, Obama can, as Austen wrote, draw “the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien....he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased.” The master of Pemberley “had yet to learn to be laught at, ” and this sometimes caused “a deeper shade of hauteur” to “overspread his features.” The New Hampshire debate incident in which Obama condescendingly said, “You’re likable enough, Hillary, ” was reminiscent of that early scene in “Pride and Prejudice” when Darcy coldly refuses to dance with Elizabeth Bennet, noting, “She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me.” Indeed, when Obama left a prayer to the Lord at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, a note that was snatched out and published, part of his plea was to “help me guard against pride.” If Obama is Mr. Darcy, with “his pride, his abominable pride, ” then America is Elizabeth Bennet, spirited, playful, democratic, financially strained, and caught up in certain prejudices. (McCain must be cast as Wickham, the rival for Elizabeth’s affections, the engaging military scamp who casts false aspersions on Darcy’s character.) In this political version of “Pride and Prejudice, ” the prejudice is racial, with only 31 percent of white voters telling The New York Times in a survey that they had a favorable opinion of Obama, compared with 83 percent of blacks. And the prejudice is visceral: many Americans, especially blue collar, still feel uneasy about the Senate’s exotic shooting star, and he is surrounded by a miasma of ill-founded and mistaken premises. So the novelistic tension of the 2008 race is this: Can Obama overcome his pride and Hyde Park hauteur and win America over? Can America overcome its prejudice to elect the first black president? And can it move past its biases to figure out if Obama’s supposed conceit is really just the protective shield and defense mechanism of someone who grew up half white and half black, a perpetual outsider whose father deserted him and whose mother, while loving, sometimes did so as well? Can Miss Bennet teach Mr. Darcy to let down his guard, be more sportive, and laugh at himself?


8/3/08

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Plain Truth and Blind Ignorance

Truth
'God speed you, ancient father,
And give you a good daye;
What is the cause, I praye you,
So sadly here you staye?
And that you keep such gazing
On this decayed place,
The which, for superstition,
Good princes down did raze?'

Ignorance
'Chill tell thee, by my vazen,
That zometimes che have knowne
A vair and goodly abbey
Stand here of bricke and stone;
And many a holy vrier,
As ich may say to thee,
Within these goodly cloysters
Che did full often zee.'

Truth.
'Then I must tell thee, father,
In truthe and veritie,
A sorte of greater hypocrites
Thou couldst not likely see;
Deceiving of the simple
With false and feigned lies:
But such an order truly
Christ never did devise.'

Ignorance.
'Ah! ah! che zmell the enow, man;
Che know well what thou art;
A vellow of mean learning,
Thee was not worth a vart;
Vor when we had the old lawe,
A merry world was then,
And every thing was plenty
Among all zorts of men.'

Truth.
'Thou givest me an answer,
As did the Jewes sometimes
Unto the prophet Jeremye,
When he accus'd their crimes:
' 'Twas mercy,' sayd the people,
'And joyfull in our rea'me,
When we did offer spice-cakes
Unto the queen of hea'n.''

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The Library

When the sad soul, by care and grief oppress'd,
Looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest;
When every object that appears in view
Partakes her gloom and seems dejected too;
Where shall affliction from itself retire?
Where fade away and placidly expire?
Alas! we fly to silent scenes in vain;
Care blasts the honours of the flow'ry plain:
Care veils in clouds the sun's meridian beam,
Sighs through the grove, and murmurs in the stream;
For when the soul is labouring in despair,
In vain the body breathes a purer air:
No storm-tost sailor sighs for slumbering seas,-
He dreads the tempest, but invokes the breeze;
On the smooth mirror of the deep resides
Reflected woe, and o'er unruffled tides
The ghost of every former danger glides.
Thus, in the calms of life, we only see
A steadier image of our misery;
But lively gales and gently clouded skies
Disperse the sad reflections as they rise;
And busy thoughts and little cares avail
To ease the mind, when rest and reason fail.
When the dull thought, by no designs employ'd,
Dwells on the past, or suffer'd or enjoy'd,
We bleed anew in every former grief,
And joys departed furnish no relief.
Not Hope herself, with all her flattering art,
Can cure this stubborn sickness of the heart:
The soul disdains each comfort she prepares,
And anxious searches for congenial cares;
Those lenient cares, which with our own combined,
By mix'd sensations ease th' afflicted mind,
And steal our grief away, and leave their own

behind;
A lighter grief! which feeling hearts endure
Without regret, nor e'en demand a cure.
But what strange art, what magic can dispose
The troubled mind to change its native woes?
Or lead us willing from ourselves, to see
Others more wretched, more undone than we?
This BOOKS can do;--nor this alone; they give
New views to life, and teach us how to live;
They soothe the grieved, the stubborn they

chastise,
Fools they admonish, and confirm the wise:
Their aid they yield to all: they never shun
The man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone:

[...] Read more

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Rage Hard

(gill/johnson/nash/otoole)
Rage! rage! rage! rage!
Rage hard!
Laugh like the head of apollo
Young and strong on the wings of tomorrow
Rise up in millions get off your knees
Dispelling the demons
In the valley of danger
We all work together, sculptures in sorrow
With love light to follow, on
Sweet head of apollo
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard, make your mark
Let the tournament begin
Dont give up and dont give in
Strength to rise up, strength to win
Strength to save the wor(l)d from losing
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard
Rage!
Rage hard
Though blue eyes of children
They shine without fear
Hope is the future, with oceans of cheer
Nothing to fear
Theres nothing to fear
Though laughter of angels resounding
From heaven keep fighting the favours
Of charlatan saviours, charlatan saviours
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard, make your mark
Let the tournament begin
Dont give up and dont give in
Rage hard, into the light
Rage hard, doing it right
Rage hard, against the dark
Rage hard, make your mark
I dont know which way to go
My loves like driven snow
When we past the test of time
My love you shall be mine
And if only, lost and lonely
Is all thats wrong with me, we ll be free
Be free, be free

[...] Read more

song performed by Frankie Goes To HollywoodReport problemRelated quotes
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Hard Luck Story

Dont ask me to love my neighbour
Cause I dont love the man
Dont ask me for my favours
I wont lend a hand
And if I had real power
Then I could disappear
Wouldnt have to be around you
Id sink into the atmosphere
Then I wouldnt hear
Your hard luck story
Its a hard luck, a hard luck story
Dont ask me to tip the waiter
For he is underhand
I can tell he is a woman hater
And he is a nasty man
Within reach lies all desire
For each and every soul
Stripped bare and stretching higher
You fall into the last balck hole
To end your hard
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Dont ask me to pray to jesus
Ive never met the man
I only meet weekend preachers
Pictures of the promised land
All the new holy saviours
Who pretend to understand
Who do you think will save you
Modern day beggar man
Such a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its such a hard
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Dont ask me to love my neighbour
Dont ask me to tip the waiter
Dont ask me to pray to jesus
He picked his time to leave us
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck story
Hard luck story

song performed by Men At WorkReport problemRelated quotes
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Hard Up Case

You told me once I was your pride and joy
I guess those days are dead and gone
You must have took me for some golden boy
You didnt know what you were taking on
It was a hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
Now all the angles have been played in threes
There isnt much that I can say
I know you gave your little heart to me
I guess I threw the thing away
It was a hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
Sometimes the truth is kind of hard to find
But dont you worry I can read your mind
And you dont have to tell me to my face
You put some other joker in my place
They dealt us houses full with the queens and kings
And now theyre calling out our bluff
cause you and me girl we had everything
But it just wasnt quite enough
Now thats a hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
You say the truth is gonna set me free
Like you might throw a dog a bone
I know youre thinking that the jokes on me
Just take a look at what you re dragging home --
Another hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case
It was a hard up case
Just another hard up case

song performed by Steely DanReport problemRelated quotes
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Fighting Hard

Rolling out to fight for England, singing songs across the sea;
Rolling North to fight for England, and to fight for you and me.
Fighting hard for France and England, where the storms of Death are hurled;
Fighting hard for Australasia and the honour of the World!
Fighting hard.
Fighting hard for Sunny Queensland—fighting for Bananaland,
Fighting hard for West Australia, and the mulga and the sand;
Fighting hard for Plain and Wool-Track, and the haze of western heat—
Fighting hard for South Australia and the bronze of Farrar’s Wheat!
Fighting hard.

Fighting hard for fair Victoria, and the mountain and the glen;
(And the Memory of Eureka—there were other tyrants then),
For the glorious Gippsland forests and the World’s great Singing Star—
For the irrigation channels where the cabbage gardens are—
Fighting hard.

Fighting hard for gale and earthquake, and the wind-swept ports between;
For the wild flax and manuka and the terraced hills of green.
Fighting hard for wooden homesteads, where the mighty kauris stand—
Fighting hard for fern and tussock!—Fighting hard for Maoriland!
Fighting hard.

Fighting hard for little Tassy, where the apple orchards grow;
(And the Northern Territory just to give the place a show),
Fighting hard for Home and Empire, while the Commonwealth prevails—
And, in spite of all her blunders, dying hard for New South Wales.
Dying hard.

Fighting for the Pride of Old Folk, and the people that you know;
And the girl you left behind you—(ah! the time is passing slow).
For the proud tears of a sister! come you back, or never come!
And the weary Elder Brother, looking after things at home—
Fighting Hard!
You Lucky Devils
!
Fighting hard.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
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Gotham - Book III

Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed;
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live?
Yes, from herself the mother may depart,
She may forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed,
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live;
But I cannot forget, whilst life remains,
And pours her current through these swelling veins,
Whilst Memory offers up at Reason's shrine;
But I cannot forget that Gotham's mine.
Can the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast tear her young child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone?
Yes, the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast may tear her child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone;
But I, (forbid it, Heaven!) but I can ne'er
The love of Gotham from this bosom tear;
Can ne'er so far true royalty pervert
From its fair course, to do my people hurt.
With how much ease, with how much confidence--
As if, superior to each grosser sense,
Reason had only, in full power array'd,
To manifest her will, and be obey'd--
Men make resolves, and pass into decrees
The motions of the mind! with how much ease,
In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw,
And bring to nothing what was raised to law!
In empire young, scarce warm on Gotham's throne,
The dangers and the sweets of power unknown,
Pleased, though I scarce know why, like some young child,
Whose little senses each new toy turns wild,
How do I hold sweet dalliance with my crown,
And wanton with dominion, how lay down,
Without the sanction of a precedent,
Rules of most large and absolute extent;
Rules, which from sense of public virtue spring,
And all at once commence a Patriot King!
But, for the day of trial is at hand,
And the whole fortunes of a mighty land
Are staked on me, and all their weal or woe
Must from my good or evil conduct flow,

[...] Read more

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They Know That They Don't Know

They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.

They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.

And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!

Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!

They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,

[...] Read more

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