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Rounding to the nearest cent is sufficiently accurate for practical purposes.

quote by Alexander John Ellis
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Memory Will Endure (Revised)

‘Cent Mille Chansons’ stirs memory, beautiful
voice, melody of such bitter-sweet nostalgia, a
whispering spirit crying in the cupboard: no drag
worm relates stories of new knights and dragons

Just dream sustained characters who take their
bows, spirits bolstered by lyrics of this song, there
always will be a hundred thousand loves – and
castles and stars to remain untouched by us

One hundred thousand horizons of love, we shall
add new another romance as we join a hundred
thousand lovers in the blue sphere of earth; the
world will never need to know –

but memory endures a hundred thousand years
in my sensitive soul

[ORIGINAL: ]

Listening to Cent Mille Chansons stirred a memory:
a beautiful voice, a melody conveying such bitter-
sweet nostalgia - the whispering spirit in the cup-
board crying: there is no dragworm to tell me a
new story of knights and dragons

Just dreams sustain as my characters take their bows,
the spirit bolstered by the lyrics of this song, there
always will be a hundred thousand loves; castles
and stars will remain untouched by us in this
ocean of love, there will always be

A hundred thousand horizons, we shall add another
romance as we join a hundred thousand lovers in
the blue sphere of the earth; the world will never
know - but the memory will endure a hundred
thousand years in my sensitive soul...

1.Lyrics “Cent Mille Chansons” Frida Boccara

Il y aura cent mille chansons
Quand viendra le temps des cent mille saisons
Cent mille amoureux
Pareils à nous deux
Dans le lit tout bleu de la terre
Cent mille chansons rien qu'à nous
Cent mille horizons devant nous
Partagés de bonheur

[...] Read more

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Outta Control

[Intro- 50 Cent]
Yeah
Shady
Aftermath
[Chorus- 50 Cent]
I guess ya didn't know
I make you beg for more
Everybody's on the floor
Goin', goin' outta control
[Bridge- 50 Cent]
Set it off from your left dawg
Set it off from your right dawg
Set it off nigga I said set if off
[Verse 1]
Sick with it boy, better get wit it what
In the club, I get it goin' goin' uhh
Just move it to the music its on
To the sound of 50 & D.R.E.
Everythings calculated in time percised
Never move another mill let's get right aight
This test is my ?? choice I'm high off life
Feelin' lucky enough to bet it all on the dice
Shorty do what you wanna do
Hit the dance floor, move how you wanna move
Later on, we can cruise if you wanna cruise
Its whatever you want, the fact is I got more than I flaunt
[Chorus- 50 Cent]
I do my thang in the club
Every chance I get, I tear it up
Dance floor, jam-packed
I got 'em goin', goin' outta control
[Bridge- 50 Cent]
Set it off from your left dawg
Set if off from your right dawg
Set it off nigga I said set it off
[Verse 2]
System thumpin', dance floor jumpin'
We thirty deep in this bitch, we stuntin'
Thats what you get, you in my hood
I thought you understood
You know me, VIP, no ID
Bottles in DP, I do it real BIG
Bitches break their necks to be where I be
Take 'em to ecstacy without ecstacy
I'm the chef, you need a hit, I got the recipe
Doc got the antedote and send the drugs in the nose
Can you feel it, Em said for me to make ya feel it
And remind you that you rockin' with the realest
[Chorus- 50 Cent]
I do my thang in the club

[...] Read more

song performed by 50 Cent
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Candy Shop (Lyrics)

Intro: 50 Cent
Yeah...
Uh huh
So seductive

Chorus:
[50 Cent]
I take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl, don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)
[Olivia]
I take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)

Verse 1: 50 Cent
You got it your way, how do you want it
You gon' back that thing up or should i push up on it
Temperature rising, okay lets go to the next level
Dance floor jam packed, hot as a teakettle
I'll break it down for you now, baby it's simple
If you be a nympho, I'll be a nympho
In the hotel or in the back of the rental
On the beach or in the park, it's whatever you into
Got the magic stick, I'm the love doctor
Have your friends teasin you 'bout how sprung I gotcha
Wanna show me how you work it baby, no problem
Get on top then get to bouncing round like a low rider
I'm a seasons vet when it come to this shit
After you work up a sweat you can play with the stick
I'm tryin to explain baby the best way I can
I melt in your mouth girl, not in your hands (ha ha)

Chorus:
[50 Cent]
I take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl, don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)
[Olivia]
I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)

Bridge: 50 Cent & Olivia
Girl what we do (what we do)
And where we do (and where we do)

[...] Read more

poem by Aaron Dacey
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Don't Commence Lamenting

Discuss,
You must.
But distrust your rush,
To judgement.
Or...
Laments commenced.
That don't pay your mortgage,
Or rent.
That's pending.

Don't lament!

Discuss,
You must.
But distrust your rush,
To judgement.
Or...
Laments commenced.
Or anyone who doesn't pay,
A single cent...
Back,
You lend them!

Don't commence lamenting...
Anyone who doesn't pay a single cent back,
You lend them.

Don't lament...
Anyone who doesn't pay a single cent back,
You lend them.

Don't commence lamenting...
Anyone who doesn't pay a single cent back,
You lend them.

Don't lament...
Anyone who doesn't pay a single cent back,
You lend them.

Don't commence lamenting...
Anyone who doesn't pay a single cent back,
You lend them.

Just,
Don't do it again!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cent mille hommes, criblés d'obus et de mitraille

Cent mille hommes, criblés d'obus et de mitraille,
Cent mille hommes, couchés sur un champ de bataille,
Tombés pour leur pays par leur mort agrandi,
Comme on tombe à Fleurus, comme on tombe à Lodi,
Cent mille ardents soldats, héros et non victimes,
Morts dans un tourbillon d'évènements sublimes,
D'où prend son vol la fière et blanche Liberté,
Sont un malheur moins grand pour la société,
Sont pour l'humanité, qui sur le vrai se fonde,
Une calamité moins haute et moins profonde,
Un coup moins lamentable et moins infortuné
Qu'un innocent, - un seul innocent condamné, -
Dont le sang, ruisselant sous un infâme glaive,
Fume entre les pavés de la place de Grève,
Qu'un juste assassiné dans la forêt des lois,
Et dont l'âme a le droit d'aller dire à Dieu : Vois !

Cent mille hommes, criblés d'obus et de mitraille,
Cent mille hommes, couchés sur un champ de bataille,
Tombés pour leur pays par leur mort agrandi,
Comme on tombe à Fleurus, comme on tombe à Lodi,
Cent mille ardents soldats, héros et non victimes,
Morts dans un tourbillon d'évènements sublimes,
D'où prend son vol la fière et blanche Liberté,
Sont un malheur moins grand pour la société,
Sont pour l'humanité, qui sur le vrai se fonde,
Une calamité moins haute et moins profonde,
Un coup moins lamentable et moins infortuné
Qu'un innocent, - un seul innocent condamné, -
Dont le sang, ruisselant sous un infâme glaive,
Fume entre les pavés de la place de Grève,
Qu'un juste assassiné dans la forêt des lois,
Et dont l'âme a le droit d'aller dire à Dieu : Vois !

poem by Victor Hugo
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Song Of The Exposition

AFTER all, not to create only, or found only,
But to bring, perhaps from afar, what is already founded,
To give it our own identity, average, limitless, free;
To fill the gross, the torpid bulk with vital religious fire;
Not to repel or destroy, so much as accept, fuse, rehabilitate;
To obey, as well as command--to follow, more than to lead;
These also are the lessons of our New World;
--While how little the New, after all--how much the Old, Old World!

Long, long, long, has the grass been growing,
Long and long has the rain been falling, 10
Long has the globe been rolling round.

Come, Muse, migrate from Greece and Ionia;
Cross out, please, those immensely overpaid accounts,
That matter of Troy, and Achilles' wrath, and Eneas', Odysseus'
wanderings;
Placard "Removed" and "To Let" on the rocks of your snowy Parnassus;
Repeat at Jerusalem--place the notice high on Jaffa's gate, and on
Mount Moriah;
The same on the walls of your Gothic European Cathedrals, and German,
French and Spanish Castles;
For know a better, fresher, busier sphere--a wide, untried domain
awaits, demands you.

Responsive to our summons,
Or rather to her long-nurs'd inclination, 20
Join'd with an irresistible, natural gravitation,

She comes! this famous Female--as was indeed to be expected;
(For who, so-ever youthful, 'cute and handsome, would wish to stay in
mansions such as those,
When offer'd quarters with all the modern improvements,
With all the fun that 's going--and all the best society?)

She comes! I hear the rustling of her gown;
I scent the odor of her breath's delicious fragrance;
I mark her step divine--her curious eyes a-turning, rolling,
Upon this very scene.

The Dame of Dames! can I believe, then, 30
Those ancient temples classic, and castles strong and feudalistic,
could none of them restrain her?
Nor shades of Virgil and Dante--nor myriad memories, poems, old
associations, magnetize and hold on to her?
But that she 's left them all--and here?

Yes, if you will allow me to say so,

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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Here's the truth. The proposed top rate of income tax is not 50 per cent. It is 50 per cent plus 1.5 per cent national insurance paid by employees plus 13.3 per cent paid by employers. That's not 50 per cent. Two years from now, Britain will have the highest tax rate on earned income of any developed country.

quote by Andrew Lloyd Webber
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50 Cent

'I will kill you like a snake',
'I will roast you like a chicken',
'I will fry you like a plantain',
So roll, roll, roll your boat when,
You have a killer gun in your pocket.
I was born in the ghetto,
With the status of poverty without a fish;
I was taught in the ghettto,
With much tears than hope;
I was brought up in the ghetto,
Without the Statue of Liberty to salute;
So roll your boat with the gun in your pocket but,
Who is ther to cover up your actions?

I was taught in a mud-house,
Without slippers on my feet;
That's the kind of society i cam from.
I had my education on the streets with,
Fights, Hunger and Starvation to crown the day;
But your killer gun in your pocket will,
Give you up one day.
Taught by the street lived by the streets,
Learned by the streets and loved by the streets,
Married by the street and of the cluster of a phobia!
But this way was part of my maturity;
That is why i do not respect the gun in your pocket.

Stealing and looting and of the plans to make the move,
But as a Human-Being who lives on 50 Cent a day!
Oh life in the ghetto,
And with the status of poverty without a fish;
But just roll your boat with a merry on your face,
For life to me was just like the mountain of snakes!
Oh life's fair fountain that eluded me,
Stealing and looting and of the plans to make it work always;
But i was just living on 50 Cent a day!
Joy to me was like the roasting of a chicken and,
Hope to me was like the killing of a rabbit;
And of an excellent value for many when one dies,
But peace to me was like the frying of plantains.

We still have leaders ruling us but,
We were still mulling to make a case like a courageous leader;
But to live on 50 Cent a day in the ghetto was all that we have,
And of the cluster of a phobia of things around us!
Life in the ghetto and living on 50 Cent a day,
It was like life on the run with the bullets behind us;
And at times it was like the straw on a camel's back,
With the negativity of life to meet all the time!

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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

poem by Charles Churchill
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Through the eyes of a Field Coronet (Epic)

Introduction

In the kaki coloured tent in Umbilo he writes
his life’s story while women, children and babies are dying,
slowly but surely are obliterated, he see how his nation is suffering
while the events are notched into his mind.

Lying even heavier on him is the treason
of some other Afrikaners who for own gain
have delivered him, to imprisonment in this place of hatred
and thoughts go through him to write a book.

Prologue

The Afrikaner nation sprouted
from Dutchmen,
who fought decades without defeat
against the super power Spain

mixed with French Huguenots
who left their homes and belongings,
with the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Associate this then with the fact

that these people fought formidable
for seven generations
against every onslaught that they got
from savages en wild animals

becoming marksmen, riding
and taming wild horses
with one bullet per day
to hunt a wild antelope,

who migrated right across the country
over hills in mass protest
and then you have
the most formidable adversary
and then let them fight

in a natural wilderness
where the hunter,
the sniper and horseman excels
and any enemy is at a lost.

Let them then also be patriotic
into their souls,
believe in and read
out of the word of God

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Our fifty principal cities contain 39.3 per cent of our entire German population, and 45.8 per cent of the Irish. Our ten larger cities only nine per cent of the entire population, but 23 per cent of the foreign.

quote by Josiah Strong
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21 Questions

[50 cent]
New york city!
You are now rapping...with 50 cent
You gotta love it...
I just wanna chill and twist a lot
Catch suns in my 7-45
You drive me crazy shorty i
Need to see you and feel you next to me
I provide everything you need and i
Like your smile I dont wanna see you cry
Got some questions that I got to ask and i
Hope you can come up with the answers babe
[nate dogg]
Girl...its easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...its easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...
[50 cent]
If I feel off tomorrow would you still love me?
If I didnt smell so good would you still hug me?
If I got locked up and sentenced to a quarter century,
Could I count on you to be there to support me mentally?
If I went back to a hoopty from a benz, would you poof and disappear like
Some of my friends?
If I was hit and I was hurt would you be by my side?
If it was time to put in work would you be down to ride?
Id get out and peel a nigga cap and chill and drive
Im asking questions to find out how you feel inside
If I aint rap cause I flipped burgers at burger king
Would you be ashamed to tell your friends you feelin me?
And in bed if I used to my tongue, would you like that?
If I wrote you a love letter would you write back?
Now we can have a lil drink you know a nightcap
And we could go do what you like, I know you like that
[nate dogg]
Girl...its easy to love me now
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...its easy to love me now (woo!)
Would you love me if I was down and out?
Would you still have love for me?
Girl...
[50 cent]
Now would you leave me if youre father found out I was thuggin?
Do you believe me when I tell you, you the one Im loving?
Are you mad cause Im asking you 21 questions?
Are you my soulmate? cause if so, girl you a blessing

[...] Read more

song performed by 50 Cent
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The Mummery

THE TWO CAVEES

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

FITCH _a Pelter of Railrogues_
PICKERING _his Partner, an Enemy to Sin_
OLD NICK _a General Blackwasher_
DEAD CAT _a Missile_
ANTIQUE EGG _Another_
RAILROGUES, DUMP-CARTERS. NAVVIES and Unassorted SHOVELRY in the Lower Distance

_Scene_-The Brink of a Railway Cut, a Mile Deep.

_Time_-1875.

FITCH:
Gods! what a steep declivity! Below
I see the lazy dump-carts come and go,
Creeping like beetles and about as big.
The delving Paddies-

PICKERING:

Case of _infra dig._

FITCH:

Loring, light-minded and unmeaning quips
Come with but scant propriety from lips
Fringed with the blue-black evidence of age.
'Twere well to cultivate a style more sage,
For men will fancy, hearing how you pun,
Our foulest missiles are but thrown in fun.

(_Enter Dead Cat._)

Here's one that thoughtfully has come to hand;
Slant your fine eye below and see it land.
(_Seizes Dead Cat by the tail and swings it in act to throw._)

DEAD CAT (_singing_):

Merrily, merrily, round I go-
Over and under and at.
Swing wide and free, swing high and low
The anti-monopoly cat!

O, who wouldn't be in the place of me,

[...] Read more

poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Culture Shock

(s. kipner/p. bliss)
Ive been trying to tell you
Ive been putting it off, putting it off
Cant wait any longer
Youve been good to me
And that only makes it harder
To say what I gotta say
You gotta know I didnt plan it
It was the last thing on my mind
How can you love two people at the same time?
Now I dont wanna lose you
But I cant give him up
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical
Why cant the three of us live together?
Its a culture shock
But its the only hope weve got
Tell me, why cant the three of us live together?
If I could go back and undo it
If I had a time machine
Id make it unhappen like a bad dream
But honey, you gotta know, I didnt plan it
It was the last thing on my mind
How can you love two people at the same time?
Now I dont wanna lose you
But I cant give him up
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical
Why cant the three of us live together?
Its a culture shock
But its the only hope weve got
So,tell me, why cant the three of us live together?
Youre not taking this too well
Its out of the question
I can tell
Its not gonna work, is it?
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical
I dont wanna lose you,no
But I not gonna give him up
Its a culture shock
But its the only hope weve got
Tell me, why cant the three of us live together?
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
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Reconstruction

So, the bank has bust it's boiler! And in six or seven year
It will pay me all my money back -- of course!
But the horse will perish waiting while the grass is germinating,
And I reckon I'll be something like the horse.

There's the ploughing to be finished and the ploughmen want their pay,
And I'd like to wire the fence and sink a tank;
But I own I'm fairly beat how I'm going to make ends meet
With my money in a reconstructed bank.

"It's a safe and sure investment!" But it's one I can't afford,
For I've got to meet my bills and bay the rent,
And the cash I had provided (so these meetings have decided)
Shall be collared by the bank at three per cent.

I can draw out half my money, so they tell me, from the Crown;
But -- it's just enough to drive a fellow daft --
My landlord's quite distressed, by this very bank he's pressed,
And he'll sell me up, to pay his overdraft.

There's my nearest neighbour, Johnson, owed this self-same bank a debt,
Every feather off his poor old back they pluck't,
For they set to work to shove him, and they sold his house above him,
Lord! They never gave him time to reconstruct.

And their profits from the business have been twenty-five per cent,
Which, I reckon, is a pretty tidy whack,
And I think it's only proper, now the thing has come a cropper,
That they ought to pay a little of it back.

I have read about "reserve funds", "banking freeholds", and the like,
Till I thought the bank had thousands of assets,
And it strikes me very funny that they take a fellow's money
When they haven't got enough to pay their debts.

And they say they've lent my money, and they can't get paid it back.
I know their rates per cent were tens and twelves;
And if they've made a blunder after scooping all this plunder,
Why, they ought to fork the money out themselves.

So all you bank shareholders, if you won't pay what you owe,
You will find that on your bank will fall a blight;
And the reason is because it's simply certain that deposits
Will be stopped, the bank will bust, and serve you right!

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Paradise Lost: Book 04

O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be revenged on men,
Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now,
While time was, our first parents had been warned
The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped,
Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare: For now
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down,
The tempter ere the accuser of mankind,
To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell:
Yet, not rejoicing in his speed, though bold
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,
Begins his dire attempt; which nigh the birth
Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast,
And like a devilish engine back recoils
Upon himself; horrour and doubt distract
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir
The Hell within him; for within him Hell
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
One step, no more than from himself, can fly
By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair,
That slumbered; wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad;
Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun,
Which now sat high in his meridian tower:
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began.
O thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Lookest from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
Of Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down
Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King:
Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright eminence, and with his good
Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
What could be less than to afford him praise,
The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good proved ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
I sdeined subjection, and thought one step higher

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Nearest Distant Shore

(written by gary harrison, tim mensy)
You fight for every breath
Caught without a ship in this sea of neglect
The one you swore to love is pulling you down
Youre in over your head
Chilled to the bone by the waters youve tread
Chart a course to land, before you drown
Swim to the nearest distant shore
Theres only so much a heart can endure
You gave it your best, forgive yourself
You cant hold on anymore
Its not as far as it might seem
Now its time to let go of old dreams
Every heart for itself
Swim to the nearest distant shore
He said for you hed change
Then hed let you down and watch you take the blame
Youre trapped between his lies and the great unknown
You vowed you would not fail
But this aint success its a living hell
Theres nothing left to lose, youre already alone
Swim to the nearest distant shore
Theres only so much a heart can endure
You gave it your best, forgive yourself
You cant hold on anymore
Its not as far as it might seem
Now its time to let go of old dreams
Every heart for itself
Swim to the nearest distant shore

song performed by Trisha Yearwood
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Everlasting Now

I knew this dude/He was very cool
He used 2 rule/Until he went 2 school
Not a normal school/That breeds a fool
But the ones that teaches/Men aren't fit to rule
That's when he took his pearly crown/He raised it up and spun it 'round
And tossed in2 the deep blue underground
No longer lead by the ways of men/He looked 4 the kingdom deep within
That's when the drums in his head began 2 pound
Don't let nobody bring u down
Accurate knowledge of Christ and the Father
Will bring the Everlasting Now/Join the party, make a sound
Share the truth, preach the good news
Don't let nobody bring u down/The Everlasting Now
Now turn the page, at an early age
This brutha on stage, he was all the rage
He taught an integrated world 2 sing
The color u are don't mean a thing
Everybody's a star all the everyday people sang
He changed the funk, put it in a bag
Then he changed the colors of the flag
But u can't teach a dog new tricks if his tail don't wag
Don't know matter how much money u made
All the cars u got and all the women u laid
Mess with the flag and 2 them u're still a spade
Don't let nobody bring u down
Accurate knowledge of Christ and the Father
Will bring the Everlasting Now
Join the party, make a sound
Share the truth, preach the good news
Don't let nobody bring u down
The Everlasting Now
See this girl in her make-believe world/Plastic boobs and clip-on curls
'Round the pole see her big butt twirl/There r the dreams that do unfurl
Never everlasting
Don't let anybody bring u down/The Everlasting Now
Watch that girl in her make-believe world
Plastic boobs and clip-on curls
'Round the pole see her big butt twirl
Electric beaches skin do bake
Vanilla fudge and wedding cake
If u should die b4 u wake
U got any last requests 2 make?
The Everlasting Now/The Everlasting Now/The Everlasting Now
Johnny, B. Well and bring the beat
From this day forward 'til times indefinite, those who love Christ r the
ones who benefit. All the players' ice melted in2 one platinum chain and in
a downward spiral it dropped down the chain.
"U know, this is funky but I wish he'd play like he used 2, old
scragglyhead."
Don't let nobody bring u down

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Alliterative Amorous Answer

Alliterative Love Letter

Adored and angelic Amelia. Accept an ardent and artless amourist’s affections, alleviate an anguished admirer’s alarms, and answer an amorous applicant’s avowed ardour. Ah, Amelia! all appears an awful aspect! Ambition, avarice and arrogance, alas are attractive allurements, and abase an ardent attachement. Appease an aching and affectionate adorer’s alarms, and anon acknowledge affianced Albert’s alliance as agreeable and acceptable.

Anxiously awaiting an affectionate and affirmative answer, accept an ardent admirer’s aching adieu. Always angelic and admirable Amelia’s admiring and affectionate amourist, Albert
Wit and Wisdom 1826

An Alliterative Answer

Artless Amelia Acme’s answer adamantly admonishing artful Albert Acne’s announced amorous ambitions, and assertive advances, actively advocates appropriate alternatives. Also, attesting abhorrent Albert’s attempted abduction, Amelia asks an adequate aureate award. Advance “ amical ” arrangements are altogether abjured.

Adieu Albert!

Abused Amelia, an adorable angel, aghast and askance, acknowledges agile apostate Albert’s apparently avuncular, albeit astonishingly audacious application, and, as alleged affiancement alliances and anticipations are absent, appends an acceptable, accurate answer.

Aggressively accosted, Amelia acts advisedly, asking an acceptably authentic apology affirming all Albert’s avowed affiancement allegations as archetypal authoritarian autocratic attempts at annulling Amelia’s autonomy. Also, Albert’s absolutely alarmingly acquisitive ambitions afford anguish, anxiety, and, afterall, acute anger. All are anathema, as Albert, an adder, assumed angelic approbation after an abject attempt at abrogating and appropriating all Amelia’s assets.

Agamous Albert’s age, adiposity, and abnormally abrasive accents also argued against amorous agglutination. Agamy appeared advisable as Amelia always aspired at attaining an absolute amour, assiduously avoiding ambiguity. Ardent admiration activated Albert’s appetite as Amelia’s allure and accomplishments attracted all-round applause.

Amelia and Albert are at an apogee. Alliance anticipations are antilogical as Amelia’s aplomb and articulateness, and Albert ’s anthropomorphic antics are as antipodes apart as Aphrodite and an anthropoid ape. Acataleptic Albert, Amelia’s antithesis, acting almost as an aggressive animal, abused Amelia’s adolescent acquaintance, Anabelle, an alluring afro actress, - actually auditionning as an aria alto, - adventuring affront abruptly abbreviated.

Albert’s apologists are accomplices aiding and abetting an attack (after anticipating advantages agreed aforehand) .... At Ashcloth Abbey altar agnostic Albert asked Assyriac Abyssinian Archdeacon Ahasuerus and Arabian acolyte Abdul abn Abdulaziz abn Abdullah Abu an aboveboard absolution although Abbott Abraham Allsaints’ anterior abjuration altered all accomodating actions.

Apprehending arrogant acquiline Albert’s arbitrary approach, Amelia appositely acted appropriately, adjusting apparel. Applause and approbation are apropos.

Albert abusively alledges aristocratic alabaster Amelia’s assent - an assumption as absurd as an ass astride an advocate assiduously assembling an ascorbic acid apparatus!

Abstemious Amelia’s abilities attract acclaim - above all admirable administrative aptitudes, artistic aims, analytical assurance, amiability and amenability. Altruistic Amelia amalgamating agreeableness and authority, always assists aliens.

Alcoholic Albert’s abominations abound, as aforementioned as all adults agree, admonishing an aggressive ambiance........Albert apes affability!

Abusive adulation appalls, accelerates aversion and attracts adverse acknowledgements alienating affirmative adhesions. Allegorical accolades, artificially addressed, accumulate absurdities. although amiable acolytes are acceptable additions. Argot argues against acceptance as avid adventurers assume affected accents -, acquiring added artificial accomplishments.

Addressing amoral Albert, and apprehending amorphous arrangements, Amelia advises acrimonious Albert’s accepting any alternative Abigail, Alice and Anabella, as affianced amourette. Auburns are also admired as are armed assegaie’d ashanti, andalousian, algonquin, anabaptist and amerindian amours:

Abigail, Ada, Adrienne, Adriana, Adelaide, Agatha, Aglaë, Alice, Aliette, await Albert,
Aline, Alison, Amy Amanda, Amandine Andrea, Angela, Angelica, Ann, anticipate Albert
Anna, Annabelle, Anne, Annette, Angelina, Annick, Annie, Andrée, Anthea, alleviate Albert
April, Ariane, Ariane, Arlette, Armande, Armelle, Ashley, Astarte, Ava, appreciate Albert
.....And Albert annoys Amelia! - aggravating!

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poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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Second Book

TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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