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The very idea of carrying my memory into eternity devastated me, and I took refuge in atheism.

quote by Taylor Caldwell
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The Scripture of the Golden Eternity

1
Did I create that sky? Yes, for, if it was anything other than a conception in my mind I wouldnt have said 'Sky'-That is why I am the golden eternity. There are not two of us here, reader and writer, but one, one golden eternity, One-Which-It-Is, That-Which- Everything-Is.

2
The awakened Buddha to show the way, the chosen Messiah to die in the degradation of sentience, is the golden eternity. One that is what is, the golden eternity, or, God, or, Tathagata-the name. The Named One. The human God. Sentient Godhood. Animate Divine. The Deified One. The Verified One. The Free One. The Liberator. The Still One. The settled One. The Established One. Golden Eternity. All is Well. The Empty One. The Ready One. The Quitter. The Sitter. The Justified One. The Happy One.

3
That sky, if it was anything other than an illusion of my mortal mind I wouldnt have said 'that sky.' Thus I made that sky, I am the golden eternity. I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

4
I was awakened to show the way, chosen to die in the degradation of life, because I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

5
I am the golden eternity in mortal animate form.

6
Strictly speaking, there is no me, because all is emptiness. I am empty, I am non-existent. All is bliss.

7
This truth law has no more reality than the world.

8
You are the golden eternity because there is no me and no you, only one golden eternity.

9
The Realizer. Entertain no imaginations whatever, for the thing is a no-thing. Knowing this then is Human Godhood.

10
This world is the movie of what everything is, it is one movie, made of the same stuff throughout, belonging to nobody, which is what everything is.

11
If we were not all the golden eternity we wouldnt be here. Because we are here we cant help being pure. To tell man to be pure on account of the punishing angel that punishes the bad and the rewarding angel that rewards the good would be like telling the water 'Be Wet'-Never the less, all things depend on supreme reality, which is already established as the record of Karma earned-fate.

12
God is not outside us but is just us, the living and the dead, the never-lived and never-died. That we should learn it only now, is supreme reality, it was written a long time ago in the archives of universal mind, it is already done, there's no more to do.

13
This is the knowledge that sees the golden eternity in all things, which is us, you, me, and which is no longer us, you, me.

14
What name shall we give it which hath no name, the common eternal matter of the mind? If we were to call it essence, some might think it meant perfume, or gold, or honey. It is not even mind. It is not even discussible, groupable into words; it is not even endless, in fact it is not even mysterious or inscrutably inexplicable; it is what is; it is that; it is this. We could easily call the golden eternity 'This.' But 'what's in a name?' asked Shakespeare. The golden eternity by another name would be as sweet. A Tathagata, a God, a Buddha by another name, an Allah, a Sri Krishna, a Coyote, a Brahma, a Mazda, a Messiah, an Amida, an Aremedeia, a Maitreya, a Palalakonuh, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 would be as sweet. The golden eternity is X, the golden eternity is A, the golden eternity is /\, the golden eternity is O, the golden eternity is [ ], the golden eternity is t-h-e-g-o-l-d-e-n-e-t-e-r- n-i-t-y. In the beginning was the word; before the beginning, in the beginningless infinite neverendingness, was the essence. Both the word 'god' and the essence of the word, are emptiness. The form of emptiness which is emptiness having taken the form of form, is what you see and hear and feel right now, and what you taste and smell and think as you read this. Wait awhile, close your eyes, let your breathing stop three seconds or so, listen to the inside silence in the womb of the world, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, re-recognize the bliss you forgot, the emptiness and essence and ecstasy of ever having been and ever to be the golden eternity. This is the lesson you forgot.

15
The lesson was taught long ago in the other world systems that have naturally changed into the empty and awake, and are here now smiling in our smile and scowling in our scowl. It is only like the golden eternity pretending to be smiling and scowling to itself; like a ripple on the smooth ocean of knowing. The fate of humanity is to vanish into the golden eternity, return pouring into its hands which are not hands. The navel shall receive, invert, and take back what'd issued forth; the ring of flesh shall close; the personalities of long dead heroes are blank dirt.

16
The point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity.

17
It came on time.

[...] Read more

poem by Jack Kerouac
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Atheism Is Not...

people who do not
happen to profess
to or believe in the truth
of the true Christian faith

people who do not
happen to profess
to or believe in the truth
of Islam Hinduism Buddhism

people who do not
believe there is a God or gods
people who have no religion
people who have no religious beliefs

atheism is not a religion
atheism is not an ideology
atheism is not a philosophy
atheism is not a belief system

atheism is not a creed
atheism is not a world view
atheism is simply not believing
God gave freedom of choice

Atheists have made their choice
their choice is a God given right
their God given right to choose
let each leave others in blessed peace

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Problem of the Idea

The Philosopher:

'The Problem of the 21st century
is the problem of the Origins of the Idea.'

The Idea has driven much
of human history-
a major motivator
many taken together are
Articulators;
Ideas compose all Human Dreams.

But ask what is this Idea
and silence ensues;
ask where is it
in the human mind
and we'll get charts of its activity centers
but nothing about what it is
or where it comes from.

The Scientist:

Well, we don't have to know what a thing is
to utilize it.
We can identify behaviors and integrate
them-
harness them to purpose.

Philosopher:

Sure like the Atomic Bomb. It was built because
we could integrate various disciplines
and make things go bang
without thinking of Consequence.
technical Ideas-too have consequences.

Scientist:

So you would hold up all human progress
until the over-arching Idea comes along
before we act?

Philosopher:
Ah, but note that progress that destroys
the planet is not
progress at all
but only a blind mistake;
one I might add,
that did not have
an Idea or Clue

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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God Is My Refuge

We invite you God to this place.
God is my refuge,
My refuge and my strength.
I will not be shaken all of my days.
God is my refuge my refuge and my strength
I will not be shaken, no
All of my days.
God is my refuge my refuge and my strength
I will not be shaken all of my days
And I wont move from your presents of your holiness I will sing
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
And I will move from your presence of your holiness I will sing
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
God is my refuge my refuge and my strength I will not be shaken all of my days
Sing it again church
God is my refuge my refuge and my strength
I will not be shaken all of my days
And I wont move from your presence of you holiness I will sing
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
In the shadow of your wings
In the shadow of your wings
In the shadow of your wings
You are great god
Oh you are great
You are great god
You are great

song performed by Lifehouse
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The Gun

The man has a gun
He knows how to use it
Nine millimeter browning
Lets see what he can do
Hell point at your mouth
Say that hell blow your brains out
Dont you mess with me
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
Dont you mess with me
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
Dont mess with me
Ooohhh, carrying a gun
Get over there
Move slowly
Ill put a hole in your face
If you even breathe a word
Tell the lady to lie down
I want, ah, you to be sure to see this
I wouldnt want you to miss a second
Watch your wife
Carrying a gun
Shooting with a gun
Dirty animal
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
Watch you face
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
Carrying a gun
The animal dies with fear in his eyes
With a gun
Dont touch him, dont touch him
Stay away from him, hes got a gun

song performed by Lou Reed
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The Book of Urizen

PRELUDIUM TO THE [FIRST] BOOK OF URIZEN

Of the primeval Priests assum'd power,
When Eternals spurn'd back his religion;
And gave him a place in the north,
Obscure, shadowy, void, solitary.
Eternals I hear your call gladly,
Dictate swift winged words, & fear not
To unfold your dark visions of torment.

Chap: I

1. Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific!
Self-closd, all-repelling: what Demon
Hath form'd this abominable void
This soul-shudd'ring vacuum? — Some said
"It is Urizen", But unknown, abstracted
Brooding secret, the dark power hid.

2. Times on times he divided, & measur'd
Space by space in his ninefold darkness
Unseen, unknown! changes appeard
In his desolate mountains rifted furious
By the black winds of perturbation

3. For he strove in battles dire
In unseen conflictions with shapes
Bred from his forsaken wilderness,
Of beast, bird, fish, serpent & element
Combustion, blast, vapour and cloud.

4. Dark revolving in silent activity:
Unseen in tormenting passions;
An activity unknown and horrible;
A self-contemplating shadow,
In enormous labours occupied

5. But Eternals beheld his vast forests
Age on ages he lay, clos'd, unknown
Brooding shut in the deep; all avoid
The petrific abominable chaos

6. His cold horrors silent, dark Urizen
Prepar'd: his ten thousands of thunders
Rang'd in gloom'd array stretch out across
The dread world, & the rolling of wheels
As of swelling seas, sound in his clouds
In his hills of stor'd snows, in his mountains

[...] Read more

poem by William Blake (1794)
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Making Love With Memories

You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.

We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.

I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.

And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Carrying Your Love With Me

Baby all I got is this beat up leather bag
And everything I own dont fill up half
But dont you worry bout the way I pack
All I care about is gettin back, real soon
A goodbye kiss is all I need from you
Cause Im carrying your love with me
West virginia down to tennessee
Ill be movin with the good lords speed
Carrying your love with me
Its my strength for holding on
Every minute that I have to be gone
Ill have everything Ill ever need
Im carrying your love with me
On a lonely highway stuck out in the rain
Darlin all I have to do, is speak your name
The clouds roll back and the waters part
The sun starts shinin in my heart for you
Youre right there in everything I do...cause
Cause Im carrying your love with me
West virginia down to tennessee
Ill be movin with the good lords speed
Carrying your love with me
Its my strength for holding on
Every minute that I have to be gone
Ill have everything Ill ever need
Im carrying your love with me
Its my strength for holding on
Every minute that I have to be gone
Ill have everything Ill ever need
Im carrying your love with me
Im carrying your love with me
Im carrying your love with me
West virginia down to tennessee
Ill be movin with the good lords speed
Carrying your love with me

song performed by George Strait
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Some Bridges

Every day I walk out in this torn up world
And I fight to survive
Im laughing when I make it to the saturday
And Im alive
Carrying your smile with me
Carrying your smile with me
Everywhere I look I see this world slippin down
That low road, day by day
And I just go on working for the things I need
And making my own way
Carrying your smile with me, oh yea
Carrying your smile with me
Take a walk on the troubled side of this old town
Take a walk on the broken streets and the buildings falling down
Look at all these kids with nothing but trouble in their eyes
Trouble in their future, trouble in their lives
Some bridges are falling down
Some bridges are still around
Take a walk on the shaded uptown avenue
Some people are doing well no matter how they do
And I know theres more to life than what you own
But I see so many good things, things Ive never known
Some bridges are falling down
Some bridges are still around
Every night I listen to the sound of the street
Lying in my bed
I love to see the dreams that are dancing there
In the light above your head
And sometimes I get so weary
And when hope is caving in
You fill me with your love and your laughter, baby
Until I get back up again
Carrying your smile with me
(take a walk on the streets of this divided town)
Carrying your smile with me
(take a walk on the smoking edge of the battleground)
Carrying your smile with me
(take a look at the situation, the poverty and the desperation)
(take the time for the realization)
Everyday Im carrying your smile with me
(take a walk in the daylight)
Carrying your smile with me
(some bridges are falling down)
Carrying your smile with me
(some bridges are still around)

song performed by Jackson Browne
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Hope For The Future

(music: marillion lyrics: john helmer)
Ive been feeling kind of down and loose
Like a rosicrucian pope
Head down deep in the womb of time
Carrying a message of hope
My hands steady as a hangmans hands
Surer than the hangmans rope
I could sleep for invisible years
Carrying a message of hope
For the future
For the future
Carrying a message
Carrying a message
Carrying a message
Message of hope
Ive been feeling kind of down and loose
Like a rosicrucian pope
Head down deep in the womb of time
Carrying a message of hope
My hands steady as a hangmans hands
Surer than the hangmans rope
I could sleep for invisible years
Carrying a message of hope
For the future
For the future
I found a power on a dusty shelf
Hey!-the languages I learned
Now Im so powerful I hurt myself
I hurt myself
I feel kind of limbie brain
Like the library of an astronaut
Found hidden in a pyramid
Shadowing a body of thought
Carrying a message
Message of hope
Madam Im adam, Im a palindrome
Never odd or even any time
Fishin and smilin like a garden gnome
Twisting tales and spinning lines
Spinning lines
Twisting tales
Why dont we twist like we did last year?
Carrying, carrying a message
Message of hope

song performed by Marillion
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Cellophane Spirit: Improvisation 10 19 2004

Old men have seen a memory blown by sleeping,
wails of grief kisses sucked up excavated noses
soul stirring psalms to the very top of the lung
energy boasts of a golden but feared recall, I
have seen the fingering of Miles Davis’ trumpet
wail of sex instincts on Stella by Starlight sung
Jesus looking for guileless disciples in the gilded
night I have seen a memory, driven by alleys of
Georgetown fences, noted gentries out-of-the-way
welcome entries, walked to mama’s down at the
very end of towns, P Street’s dead turn onto the
Avenue of murderer’s row in a town’s strip of
social clubs, I have walked sidewalk storm drains
from stoops of filth down to Main & Baltimore
streets, I have seen memory collect in the smaller
towns of Shelbyville, Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio,
Tennessee, and Springfield, Illinois, cellophane
swathes the memory, what’s known of selected
service towns, soldiers never coming home,
where divine earth gardens of herbs, salts, and
sugary loves are grown, I have seen a memory
stripped off every language, a cappella chanting
of soliloquists, ritual Griot and orphaned rappers
of cellophane spirit; porno on sheets of exhibited
joy, I have seen a memory cruising the boulevards
to The Louver and the mall to The Smithsonian, got
down with nightfall song on Martin Luther King Jr.
Avenues with whores pimps of priest and mothers,

LEE MACK
(Cellophane Spirit, Page 2)

memory eyes that burn high with desire set afire
the fricative nature of her cellophane spirit,
I have seen a memory of towns of orphaned sons
bound for locomotive dreams there in old houses on
Rose Street, Spanish laborers now rent overcrowded
dream Tudor houses, mansions of memories now city
neighbors with funeral homes where strange crowds
gather in games of wake, I have seen a memory
for the dead a picnic and a park of spirits set aside
in stone, strange crowds in games of joy a girl’s legs
too young consent to cellophane; raps disown me,

[...] Read more

poem by Lee B. Mack
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An Idea

An Idea can change the world, how many
things can be done from an idea, every piece
of object was an idea, sense the beginning of
time idea was the first thought created in the
mind, an idea is what surround’s every being.
But an idea is still only an idea and it can't be
felt, you cannot touch an idea or kiss it, or hold it,
ideas do not bleed or feel pain or love, an idea
cannot be seen or heard, its created in our thoughts,
but then again an idea can become real. An idea
can be what ever you which it to be, an idea can
be destructive, an idea can be brilliant, I've seen
people get killed in the name of ideas, ideas,
we walk around with a little
light bulb blinking in our thoughts, ideas.

poem by Elenushka Toledo
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When You Rush To Judgement

You have no idea,
What you've done.
You have no idea...
None.

You have no idea,
What you've done.
You have no idea...
Not a one.

Oh, oh, oh...
When you rush to judgement,
Your emotions are your worst enemy.
When you rush to judgement,
Your emotions are your worst enemy.
When you rush to judgement,
Your emotions are your worst enemy.
When you rush to judgement.
Oh, oh, oh...
When you rush to judgement.
To pass your judgements,
When you rush to judgement.

You have no idea,
What you've done.
You have no idea...
None.

You have no idea,
What you've done.
You have no idea...
Not a one.

When you rush to judgement,
You have no idea.
No idea.
None.
When you rush to judgement,
No one has an idea...
What they've done.
When you rush to judgement,
What one does...
Affects more than one.
When you rush to judgement.
When you rush to judgement.

You have no idea,
What you've done.
You have no idea...
None.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Canto the Fourth

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

II.

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

III.

In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.

But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.

V.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
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Rosalind and Helen: a Modern Eclogue

ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child.

SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como.

HELEN
Come hither, my sweet Rosalind.
'T is long since thou and I have met;
And yet methinks it were unkind
Those moments to forget.
Come, sit by me. I see thee stand
By this lone lake, in this far land,
Thy loose hair in the light wind flying,
Thy sweet voice to each tone of even
United, and thine eyes replying
To the hues of yon fair heaven.
Come, gentle friend! wilt sit by me?
And be as thou wert wont to be
Ere we were disunited?
None doth behold us now; the power
That led us forth at this lone hour
Will be but ill requited
If thou depart in scorn. Oh, come,
And talk of our abandoned home!
Remember, this is Italy,
And we are exiles. Talk with me
Of that our land, whose wilds and floods,
Barren and dark although they be,
Were dearer than these chestnut woods;
Those heathy paths, that inland stream,
And the blue mountains, shapes which seem
Like wrecks of childhood's sunny dream;
Which that we have abandoned now,
Weighs on the heart like that remorse
Which altered friendship leaves. I seek
No more our youthful intercourse.
That cannot be! Rosalind, speak,
Speak to me! Leave me not! When morn did come,
When evening fell upon our common home,
When for one hour we parted,--do not frown;
I would not chide thee, though thy faith is broken;
But turn to me. Oh! by this cherished token
Of woven hair, which thou wilt not disown,
Turn, as 't were but the memory of me,
And not my scornèd self who prayed to thee!

ROSALIND
Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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YOUR MEMORY [by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga & Muna Moons Ahmed]

YOUR MEMORY
[by Redscar McOdindo K’Oyuga & Muna Moons Ahmed]

Redscar McOdindo:

I’ve tried to forget your cultures
I’ve taken down all of your pictures
I’ve even changed my manners
And tried to get yet another missus…
I’ve cleaned out all of your drawers
I’ve painted over the scratches
From all our little wars
But it has never been a savory
To erase your memory.

Muna Moons:

I live beyond earthly possessions
I, I am your emotions
We have lost directions
Trying to conform to different directions.
You, you come in to ease these confusions
But we are lost. Are we lost in institutions?
Baseless yet holding on to unique fusions?

Redscar McOdindo:

Since you left
I’ve acted swift
To wander away adrift
And widen the rift
Between you and me….
Too hard has it been to shift
But I’ve put away every gift
That you ever gave to me –
Including your flowers and their vase –
And now everything is in its place
Except for one quandary:
Your Memory.

Muna Moons:

Honey, the flower dried
And the vase was then deprived
But its memory can’t be denied
I loved you so much it sighed
You loved me too much it died
And now that we are sidelined
Our memories we can’t hide.

[...] Read more

poem by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga
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Morning Refuge Prayer

i take refuge in the Buddha
who shows us the path.
i take refuge in the Dharma
that teaches us to walk in compassion.
i take refuge in the Sangha
the family of living beings working together for peace.

i take refuge in Jesus
in the way that He lived and died.
in the Kingdom of Heaven within us
that heals the sick and feeds the hungry.

i take refuge in the Tao
in the uncarved block.
in water flowing over rocks
finding its own way.

i take refuge in the Great Spirit
in the embrace of Mother Earth.
i take refuge in the wind and rain
in the thunder and lightning,
in the stillness of night.

i take refuge in the howl of the wolf,
in the eyes of small children.
in the truth that breaks down the wall
between living and existing, between sorrow and joy.

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.

I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, thron'd on her hundred isles!

II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she rob'd, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increas'd.

III.
In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone -- but Beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade -- but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city's vanish'd sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away --
The keystones of the arch! though all were o'er,
For us repeopl'd were the solitary shore.

V.
The beings of the mind are not of clay;
Essentially immortal, they create
And multiply in us a brighter ray
And more belov'd existence: that which Fate
Prohibits to dull life, in this our state

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Thats What I Call Love

You take away my air
You make my lungs collapse
I die tonight
Feeling devastated
Thats what I call
Livin in your memory
Thats what I call
Tired and deflated
Thats what I call
Love
I tidy up your room
You tidy up my life
Show me the door
Im abandoned here
Im warm to the core
I can feel
You sink I swim
We never got in that deep
You bend I break
I die tonight
Feeling devastated
Thats what I call
Hangin on and fallin over
Thats what I call
Tired and deflated
Thats what I call
Love
I got a little room
The airs still pretty bad
I die tonight
Feeling devastated
Thats what I call
Hangin on and fallin over
Thats what I call
Tired and deflated
Thats what I call
Feeling devastated
Thats
Livin with a vacuum cleaner
What
Sweepin up your memory
I call love

song performed by Crowded House
Added by Lucian Velea
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Im Carrying

By dawns first light Ill come back to your room again
With my carnation hidden by the packages
Im carrying, something
Im carrying something for you
Ah, long time no see baby sure has been a while
And if my reappearance lacks a sense of style
Im carrying, something
Im carrying something for you
Im carrying.
Im carrying, cant help it.
Im carrying.
Im carrying something for you.

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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