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There is a legend. And to protest is daft.

quote by Peter O'Toole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Im A Legend Tonight

Ive been working at my job, slaving like a dog all day
And Ive been thinking about you, girl
And watching the minutes slip away
Yeah, and I know theres someone inside me that nobody sees
And I know in the darkness youre gonna be reaching for me
Im a legend tonight
Gonna make you feel right
When you reach for the light
Im a legend tonight
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight
You know they try to slow me, sometimes I think Im gonna stop
But I gotta keep on going, believing in 5 o clock, yeah
And on the edge of the darkness well be living in another world
And I know that a part of yous gonna be part of me, girl
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight
Look at me
I dont know what happens when the race is run
I dont know what tells me if Ive lost or won
But I know that Ill make it through the day alright
And girl, youre gonna find out
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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What Becomes A Legend Most

What becomes a legend most
When shes alone in a hotel lobby
What becomes a legend most
Some bad champagne and some foreign bottled beer
What becomes a legend most
When the musicians have come and then leave her
What becomes a legend most
Besides being a legendary star
What becomes a legend most
Lying in bed cold and regal
What becomes a legend most
Lying in bed watching a talk show on tv
What becomes a legend most
Fifty days in fifty cities
And everyone says she looks pretty
At least as pretty as a legend should
Fifty days can wear you down
Fifty cities flying by
A different man in each different hotel
And if youre not careful, word can get around
What becomes a legend most
Not a bed, that is half empty
Not a heart, that is left empty
Thats not pretty, not pretty at all
What becomes a legend most
When shes lying in her hotel room
What becomes a legend most
Well baby, tonight its you (tonight its you)
Baby, tonight its you
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la) baby, its you
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la) maybe tomorrow
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la) baby, its you
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Death Drugs

Long live the legend.
Long live the legend.
Long live the legend.
Itll out live us.
Aw mom, I need some long sleeved shirts.
You got to get me some long sleeved shirts.
Mom mom, I need some long sleeved shirts.
You gotta hide the marks where I stick the works.
The things we were doing got me under the rugs.
Were doin the death drugs.
How come bobby dilan and louie reed
Theyre never seen in short sleeves.
Hey the sixties everybodys going to heaven.
Sixty-nine, sixty-eight, sixty-seven.
The things we were doing got me under the rugs.
We be doing the death drugs.
Long live the legend.
Its not for everyone.
Long live the legend.
Its not for everyone.
Long live the legend.
Its not for everyone.
Long live the legend.
Its not for everyone.
Long live the legend.
Long live the legend.
Long live the legend.
Itll out live us.
Gordon gano: vocals, guitar
Brian ritchie: acoustic bass guitar, vocals
Guy hoffman: drums, vocals
Produced by brian ritchie and gordon gano
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwaukee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission

song performed by Violent Femmes
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The Holocaust Files & Other Theme Poems

Theme: Love Poems (various forms of love,10 poems only)
*any theme category may be extended upon reader interest and requests
A Family Blessing
Changing Scene
For Our Loved Ones
Look Across Time
Memory Of A Lover
My Love
Single Red Ribbon
Snowpowder
Song Of My Love
True Love

The Holocaust Files: (32 poems) are a work in process and this reference will be removed upon completion. This is a collection of holocaust related poems to give voice to the 12 million killed, tortured and enslaved by the SS during World War II. The Poles, Romani and Slavic victims who are sometimes overlooked in brief reviews or marginalized, will hopefully have a poem as their voice by the completion of this project. The poems will ease into and out of the full extent of this horror, to contrast kaleidoscopic images of the holocaust in tribute to the slaughtered, and may provide a differing overview of Nazi Ideology to address succinct examples of how and why in historical perspective. (Historical optional background notes, have been added below some poems to assist in this purpose.)
The cruelty of topic material in some of the main poems may shock or offend innocent readers. Looking up pictorial images of these events is not advised for children.
The poems should be read in the order listed below: -
A Vibrant Life 18.5.2010
Appeasement For Adolf Hitler 15&16.10.2010
Indomitable Will To Survive 12.7.2010
Holocaust Latvia Begins 30.5.2012
Nazi Death Squads Enter Eastern Europe 29.5.2012
SS Single Shot Executioners 28.5.2012
Legal Genocide Committed On Industrial Scale 16.10.2010
Stone Cross Prologue 85 87
Stone Cross 85 87
Hitler's Holocaust Product Of A Demonic Mind 1987
When Satanic Power Ruled A Third Reich 1987
Blind Neo-Nazi Nationalism Hitler's New World Order 1987
How Evil Regenerates Perpetuates 1987
Nazi Evolution Vile Carbon Monoxide Gas To Zyklon-B 1987
Indictment Against Entire Nations 1987
An Image Of The Beast Rules
Fallen Nation Transformation 1987
Cartoon Caricature Of The Master Race 17.5.2010
The SS Who Will You Kill 17.5.2010
Classic Dance Steps 17.2.1989
Peaked Cap; Skull-And-Crossbones Badge 17&18.3.2010
A Moral Civilized World 17.3.2010
The Death Of Adolf Hitler's Personal Physican 17.5.2010
Dagmar Topf A Defence Of Family Ovens 17&18.3.2010
Not To Be Written 7.5.2010
Struck Down With A Thunderbolt 20.4.2010
Love Has Rewards Worth Attaining 19.5.2010
SS Demons 15.12.2010
How Did You Kill Me?
They Did It All Before You 18.5.2010
'Angel Of Death' A Demonic Nazi Doctor 9.3.2011
Proclaiming Retrofit New World Order 9&10.3.2011

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Intro-the Legend Of Norman Paperman/kinja

By jimmy buffett, 1996
Jimmy buffett explores new creative ground here, putting the two-hundred year history of amerigo, a fictitious caribbean island, into a calypso number, and framing it into another song, the lege
Norman paperman, the theme of the show. the principal singer is the governor of the island, and the key characters of the show sing verses about the history.
Narrator
Kinja was the name of the island when it was british. the actual name was king george the third island, but the islanders shortened that to kinja. now the name in the maps and the guidebooks is
Go, but everybody who still lives there still calls it kinja. the united states acquired the island peaceably in 1940 as part of the shuffling of old destroyers and caribbean real estate that we
Between mr. roosevelt and mr. churchill. the details of the transaction were and are vague to the inhabitants. the west indian is not exactly hostile to change, but hes not much inclined to be
In it. meantime in a fashion amerigo is getting americanized. the inflow of cash is making everyone more prosperous. most kinjans go along cheerily with this explosion of american energy in the
Bbean. to them it seems like a new harmless and apparently endless carnival.
Sanders
Have you ever dreamed of escaping from your dull existence to a new life on a tropical island? our story is about a man who did it - a real person, whose true adventure has become a legend here
E caribbean. welcome one and all to the legend of norman paperman.
Ensemble
Dis is the legend of norman papuhman
Tale from the islands well share
Chasin illusions can get quite confusin
Is it a dream or a nightmare
Women
Dis is the legend of norman papuhman
Tale from the islands well tell
Men
Chasin illusions can get quite confusin
Cause heaven can turn into hell.
Sanders [sings]
Kinjas the name of the island
Its been kinja for over two hundred years
But remember paradise
Doesnt come without a price
Let me make that abundantly clear
Kinja, our beautiful island
In a windward archipeligo
Weve been english, french and dutch
Never seemed to matter much
Now were officially amerigo
Ensemble
Were kinja
Still kinja
Our kinja
Sanders
(sheila, chef at the gull reef club)
Sheila
Our ancestors came in the slave ships
To work for the privileged few
Who wore paris fashions
And lived in pink mansions
While we huddled in shacks of bamboo
Den da sugar beet bring us our freedom
With the help of our God we got through
Insurrection, beheadins, funerals and weddins
Hurricanes and a world war or two

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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The peter-bird

Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter,
And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over;
Down in the pasture the sheep hear that strange crying for Peter,
Over the meadows that call is aye and forever repeated.
So let me tell you the tale, when, where, and how it all happened,
And, when the story is told, let us pay heed to the lesson.

Once on a time, long ago, lived in the State of Kentucky
One that was reckoned a witch--full of strange spells and devices;
Nightly she wandered the woods, searching for charms voodooistic--
Scorpions, lizards, and herbs, dormice, chameleons, and plantains!
Serpents and caw-caws and bats, screech-owls and crickets and adders--
These were the guides of that witch through the dank deeps of the forest.
Then, with her roots and her herbs, back to her cave in the morning
Ambled that hussy to brew spells of unspeakable evil;
And, when the people awoke, seeing that hillside and valley
Sweltered in swathes as of mist--"Look!" they would whisper in terror--
"Look! the old witch is at work brewing her spells of great evil!"
Then would they pray till the sun, darting his rays through the vapor,
Lifted the smoke from the earth and baffled the witch's intentions.

One of the boys at that time was a certain young person named Peter,
Given too little to work, given too largely to dreaming;
Fonder of books than of chores, you can imagine that Peter
Led a sad life on the farm, causing his parents much trouble.
"Peter!" his mother would call, "the cream is a'ready for churning!"
"Peter!" his father would cry, "go grub at the weeds in the garden!"
So it was "Peter!" all day--calling, reminding, and chiding--
Peter neglected his work; therefore that nagging at Peter!

Peter got hold of some books--how, I'm unable to tell you;
Some have suspected the witch--this is no place for suspicions!
It is sufficient to stick close to the thread of the legend.
Nor is it stated or guessed what was the trend of those volumes;
What thing soever it was--done with a pen and a pencil,
Wrought with a brain, not a hoe--surely 't was hostile to farming!

"Fudge on all readin'!" they quoth; or "that's what's the ruin of
Peter!"

So, when the mornings were hot, under the beech or the maple,
Cushioned in grass that was blue, breathing the breath of the blossoms,
Lulled by the hum of the bees, the coo of the ring-doves a-mating,
Peter would frivol his time at reading, or lazing, or dreaming.
"Peter!" his mother would call, "the cream is a'ready for churning!"
"Peter!" his father would cry, "go grub at the weeds in the garden!"
"Peter!" and "Peter!" all day--calling, reminding, and chiding--
Peter neglected his chores; therefore that outcry for Peter;
Therefore the neighbors allowed evil would surely befall him--
Yes, on account of these things, ruin would come upon Peter!

[...] Read more

poem by Eugene Field
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I Say, I Say, I Say

At night I like to run a bath,
not round the block,
don't laugh, don't laugh,
it's not a dog, it is a bath.
Oh you're not daft,
not daft, not daft.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Daft Jean

Daft Jean,
The waesome wean,
She cam' by the cottage, she cam' by the ha',
The laird's ha' o' Wutherstanelaw,
The cottar's cot by the birken shaw;
An' aye she gret,
To ilk ane she met,
For the trumpet had blawn an' her lad was awa'.

'Black, black,' sang she,
'Black, black my weeds shall be,
My love has widowed me!
Black, black!' sang she.

Daft Jean,
The waesome wean,
She cam' by the cottage, she cam' by the ha',
The laird's ha' o' Wutherstanelaw,
The cottar's cot by the birken shaw;
Nae mair she creepit,
Nae mair she weepit,

She stept 'mang the lasses the queen o' them a',
The queen o' them a',
The queen o' them a',
She stept 'mang the lasses the queen o' them a'.
For the fight it was fought i' the fiel' far awa',
An' claymore in han' for his love an' his lan',
The lad she lo'ed best he was foremost to fa'.

'White, white,' sang she,
'White, white, my weeds shall be,
I am no widow,' sang she,
'White, white, my wedding shall be,
White, white!' sang she.

Daft Jean,
The waesome wean,
She gaed na' to cottage, she gaed na' to ha',
But forth she creepit,
While a' the house weepit,
Into the snaw i' the eerie night-fa'.

At morn we found her,
The lammies stood round her,
The snaw was her pillow, her sheet was the snaw;
Pale she was lying,
Singing and dying,
A' for the laddie wha fell far awa'.

[...] Read more

poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Mallam Carting.

Daft was thought he says called,
For his naivety struggling carting,
For his blindness,
Made more detention,
Note heart of his depth,
In fishing for best,

Games where wrongly for coins,
Mallam cart pushiness for glory,
Note heart for his depth,
Made calmly for detective,
In given and buying of the silence,
Amorous glorious Mallam cart,

Say say say say,
Daft he was called,
Pleading pleadings for purity,
Help confession Mallam cart pusher,
Games where wrongly for coins,
Survival of fitness aloud,
Here there divinely,
Amorous glorious pusher Mallam cart,

Daft thought he says was called,
For his naivety struggling cart,
For his blindness,
made more detention,
Note heart of his depth,
In fishing for best,
Amorous glorious pusher Mallam cart.

poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
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Sinners

He fell for her daughter;
She fell for him later.
There came in no protest.
He engaged them both.
***
He fell for her mother;
She fell for him later.
From them came no protest.
He engaged them both.
***
He fell for his neigbour;
His son too fell for her.
Silence was the protest.
She fed them both alike.
***
A mother was his beloved;
Her daughter was his son’s.
Wordless was the protest.
Each engaged the other.
***
Sinners make friends
19.10.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Doth I Protest Too Much

I'm not threatened, by every pair of legs you watch go by
I don't cringe when you stare at women, it's just a thing called guy
I don't notice your side ways glances or where your loyalty lies
I'm secure and out of me, it's hard to get a rise
I'm not jealous
I don't get moved my much
I'm not enraged
Not insecure as such
Not going insane
Rational stays in touch
Doth I protest too much?
I'm not tortured by how oft your busy, Cause I've got things to do
I'm not needy
I don't get clingy much
I'm not scared
I'm not afraid as such
I'm not dependent
Rock solid, stays in touch
And Doth I protest too much?
So much energy to prove to you
Who I can't possibly be
So much energy to prove to you
I'm not who you hate for me to be
I'm not saddened
And I don't miss you
Cause I have moved on too
I'm not concerned about your new lover
Cause I have a new lover too
I'm not depressed
I don't get down that much
I'm not despondent
I am not dark as such
I'm never sad
Keep Chin Up, Stays in touch
And Doth I protest too much?
I'm not jealous
I don't get moved my much
I'm not enraged
Not insecure as such
Not going insane
Rational stays in touch
And Doth I protest too much?

song performed by Alanis Morissette
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Song Bewailing The Time Of Christmas, So Much Decayed In England

Christmas is my name, for have I gone, have I gone, have I gone,
Have I gone without regard;
Whereas great men by flocks they be flown to Londonward
Where in pomp and pleasure do waste
That which Christmas had wont to feast,
Welladay!
Houses where music was wonted to ring,
Nothing but bats and owls now do sing.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?

Christmas bread and beef is turned into stones, into stones, into stones,
Into stones and silken rags.
And Lady Money, it doth sleep, it doth sleep, it doth sleep,
It doth sleep in misers' bags.
Where many gallants once abound,
Nought but a dog and shepherd is found,
Welladay!
Places where Christmas revels did keep
Are now become habitations for sheep.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?

Pan, the shepherds' god, doth deface, doth deface, doth deface,
Doth deface Lady Ceres' crown;
And tillages doth decay, doth decay, doth decay,
Doth decay in every town;
Landlords their rents so highly enhance
That Piers the ploughman barefoot doth dance,
Welladay!
Farmers that Christmas would entertain
Hath scarcely withal themselves to maintain.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?

Go to the Protestant, he'll protest, he'll protest, he'll protest,
He will protest and boldly boast;
And to the Puritan, he is so hot, he is so hot, he is so hot,
He is so hot he will burn the roast.
The Catholic good deeds will not scorn,
Nor will he see poor Christmas forlorn,
Welladay!
Since holiness no good deeds will do,
Protestants had best turn Papists too.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?

Pride and luxury doth devour, doth devour, doth devour,
Doth devour housekeeping quite,
And beggary doth beget, doth beget, doth beget,
Doth beget in many a knight.
Madam, forsooth, in coach must she reel
Although she wear her hose out at heel,
Welladay!

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Those Smart Young People

They scare alot.
Those smart young people.
Who seem to know more than they should,
When others do not.

They scare alot.
Those smart young people.
And instead of listening to them,
To get the knowledge that they've got...
We think their heads are much too hot.

And we,
Wish to believe that all children...
Learn from us our doings,
With a wish we approved.

And we,
Can not perceive that our children...
Have those messages for us,
Because that haven't lived a life...
That proves they know what it is like,
To...

Sacrifice and suffer.
And live a life that we had.
Feeling as if suckers.
And live a life that we had,
Trying to be tougher.
Wanting them to be the best!
But to us they just protest.

They scare alot.
Those smart young people.
Who seem to know more than they should,
When others do not.

And we,
Can not perceive that our children...
Have those messages for us,
Because that haven't lived a life...
That proves they know what it is like,
To...

Sacrifice and suffer.
And live a life that we had.
Feeling as if suckers.
And live a life that we had,
Trying to be tougher.
Wanting them to be the best!
But to us they just protest.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Surreal Ballard Of Tahrir Square

script implausible was so bad surreal
a badly written distorted dream scene
by hack writer with his train off de track

a director still coupled to an antique
loose caboose directing a crummy
crew straight out of sad clown wagon

hear bark a doghouse glory wagon
nationalist saviour script monkey
wagon attack techniques yes these

lapdogs trained as running dogs were
about to be let loose from monkey
wagon many bused in especially for

lackey protest busting feature occasion
moral railroaded false charge imagery
“don’t fall asleep on trains coz trains run

over sleepers” view protesters in lime
light were about to be overwhelmed
ruthlessly crushed steamrolled to pave

one way for Mubarak to oh so smoothly
retain President power so run mad house
script bizarre surging footage shot real?

roll cameras action paid men came with
baseball bats pieces of broken window
frames machetes one homemade spear?

form a line a small group plainclothes
policemen block one broad boulevard
leading into Tahrir Square now symbolic

epicentre
of peaceful Egyptian
revolution

poor police publicly shamed had been
driven from streets so used to controlling
last Friday now had come to hero reclaim

what? A ruthless reputation, proud ego,
status regarded as rightfully lawfully
theirs? Police gathered on Qasr el-Aini

prepared themselves for confrontation
with brave protesters who had humiliated

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter III

Who has not seen the falls of Tivoli,
The rocks, the foam--white water, and the three
Fair ruined temples which adorn the hill?
Who has not sat and listened to the shrill
Sweet melody of blackbirds, and the roar
Of Anio's voice rebounding from the shore,
Nor would have given his very soul to greet
Some passing vision of a white nymph's feet,
And waving arms, as the wild chasm's spray
Beat on his face, for ever answering ``Nay''?
Who has not turned away with sadder face,
Abashed before the genius of the place,
A wiser man, and owned upon his knees,
The dull transmontane Goth and boor he is?
Who that was born to feel? What sons of clay
Are these that stand among your shrines to--day,
Gods of the ancient rivers! and who set
The heavy impress of barbarian feet
Upon your classic shores, and dare to love
Your ruined homes in temple, rock, and grove!
What new rude sons of Japhet! What mad crew,
Whose only creed is what it dares to do
Through lack of knowledge, whose undoubting heart,
Here in the very temples of old art,
Brings out its little tribute, builds its shrines,
Wreathes its sad garlands of untutored lines,
Writes, paints, professes, sculptures its new gods,
And dares to have its home in your abodes!

Oh, if I had a soul oppressed with song,
A tongue on fire to prophesy among
My brother prophets, if I had a hand
Which needs must write its legend on life's sand
With brush or chisel, I at least would choose
Some soil less fair, less sacred to the Muse,
Some younger, wilder land, where no sad voice
Had ever stammered forth its tale of joys
And loves and sorrows, or in tones less rude
Than the brute pulsing of its human blood;
If I would build a temple, it should be
At least not here, not here in Italy,
Where all these temples stand. My thought should shape
Its fancies in rough granite on some cape
O'erlooking the Atlantic, from whose foam
No goddess ever leaped, and not in Rome,
Beneath the mockery of immortal eyes,
Gazing in marble down, so coldly wise!

Such was Griselda's thought, which, half aloud,
She uttered one May morning 'mid a crowd

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Army Of Northern Virginia

Army of Northern Virginia, army of legend,
Who were your captains that you could trust them so surely?
Who were your battle-flags?
Call the shapes from the mist,
Call the dead men out of the mist and watch them ride.
Tall the first rider, tall with a laughing mouth,
His long black beard is combed like a beauty's hair,
His slouch hat plumed with a curled black ostrich-feather,
He wears gold spurs and sits his horse with the seat
Of a horseman born.
It is Stuart of Laurel Hill,
'Beauty' Stuart, the genius of cavalry,
Reckless, merry, religious, theatrical,
Lover of gesture, lover of panache,
With all the actor's grace and the quick, light charm
That makes the women adore him-a wild cavalier
Who worships as sober a God as Stonewall Jackson,
A Rupert who seldom drinks, very often prays,
Loves his children, singing, fighting spurs, and his wife.
Sweeney his banjo-player follows him.
And after them troop the young Virginia counties,
Horses and men, Botetort, Halifax,
Dinwiddie, Prince Edward, Cumberland, Nottoway,
Mecklenburg, Berkeley, Augusta, the Marylanders,
The horsemen never matched till Sheridan came.
Now the phantom guns creak by. They are Pelham's guns.
That quiet boy with the veteran mouth is Pelham.
He is twenty-two. He is to fight sixty battles
And never lose a gun.
The cannon roll past,
The endless lines of the infantry begin.
A. P. Hill leads the van. He is small and spare,
His short, clipped beard is red as his battleshirt,
Jackson and Lee are to call him in their death-hours.
Dutch Longstreet follows, slow, pugnacious and stubborn,
Hard to beat and just as hard to convince,
Fine corps commander, good bulldog for holding on,
But dangerous when he tries to think for himself,
He thinks for himself too much at Gettysburg,
But before and after he grips with tenacious jaws.
There is D. H. Hill-there is Early and Fitzhugh Lee-
Yellow-haired Hood with his wounds and his empty sleeve,
Leading his Texans, a Viking shape of a man,
With the thrust and lack of craft of a berserk sword,
All lion, none of the fox.
When he supersedes
Joe Johnston, he is lost, and his army with him,
But he could lead forlorn hopes with the ghost of Ney.
His bigboned Texans follow him into the mist.
Who follows them?

[...] Read more

poem by Stephen Vincent Benet
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Id Be A Legend In My Time

Don gibson
If heartaches brought fame
In loves crazy game
Id be a legend in my time
If they gave gold statuettes
For tears and regrets
Id be a legend in my time
But they dont give awards
And theres no praise or fame
For a heart thats been broken
Over love thats in vain
If lonliness meant world acclaim
Everyone would know my name
Id be a legend in my time
If lonliness meant world acclaim
Everyone would know my name
Id be a legend in my time

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Legend Reborn

Youve been fighting for much to long
You saw the future and what to come
Restless spirits out on the run,
Among the shadows of the sun
You are the rising resistance now
Weve come to show you a way somehow
Beyond the past and in secrecy,
We found it all, but we want more
We come from the age of chivalry
Metal machines, unchained and free
We are hear for you to see
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Moving silent like a gentle breeze
Were the troops of metal and we do as we please
We are the restless, we are the wild,
Burning hearts that never die
We are going against the tide
The hammer has fallen, a thorn in your side
Break the silence or take the fall
The mighty templars will take it all
Welcome the age of chivalry,
Were we all will be set free
Its the time for you and me
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Sons and brothers fight or fall
With our sisters and daughters
Were standing one for all
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn

song performed by Hammerfall
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Pledge Allegiance To The State Of Rock & Roll

Looking back yeah I feel alright
Getting more than my expectations
Yeah my future looks clear and bright
I'm living up to my reputation
Yeah, I'm satisfied
Yeah, until the day I die
I gave my blood and I gave my soul
I stood my ground and I took control
The legend's growing as the story's told
I pledge allegiance to the state, of rock and roll
Oh yeah!
I've been a rebel for all my life
I never cared about regulations
I only went for the things I liked
And my guitar was my inspiration
Yeah, we pay a price
Yeah, I made the sacrifice
I gave my blood and I gave my soul
I stood my ground and I took control
The legend's growing as the story's told
I know that heaven's gonna wait
I pledge allegiance to the state, of rock and roll
Yeah, I'm satisfied
Yeah, until the day I die
I gave my blood and I gave my soul
I stood my ground and I took control
The legend's growing as the story's told
I know that heaven's gonna wait
I gave my blood and I gave my soul
I stood my ground and I took control
The legend's growing as the story's told
I pledge allegiance to the state, I pledge allegiance to the state
Of rock and roll, of rock and roll
Rock and roll

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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Maps And Legends

He's not to be reached he's to be reached.
He's not to be reached he's to be reached.
Called the fool and the company
On his own where he'd rather be.
Where he ought to be he sees what you can't see can't you see that?
Maybe he's caught in the legend
maybe he's caught in the mood.
Maybe these maps and legends
have been misunderstood.
Down the way the road's divided
Paint me the places you have seen.
Those who know what I don't know
refer to the yellow, red and green
Maybe he's caught in the legend,
maybe he's caught in the mood.
Maybe these maps and legends
have been misunderstood.
He's not to be reached, he's to be reached. (4 times)
The map that you painted didn't seem real.
He just sings whatever he's seen
Point to the legend, point to the east,
Point to the yellow, red and green
Maybe he's caught in the legend,
maybe he's caught in the mood.
Maybe these maps and legends
have been misunderstood, been misunderstood. (Maps and legends)
(Maps and legends) Is he to be reached? He's not to be reached.
(Maps and legends) Is he to be reached? He's not to be reached.
(Maps and legends) Is he to be reached? He's not to be reached anymore

song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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