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There was no one in particular I really tried to copy.

quote by Caroline Corr
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'm Goona Copy

I’m surely gonna copy,
Be it poem, DVD or floppy,
And win Nobel Prize and trophy.

I will copy poets all
Whether they are big or small
Ya! No one can make me stop
Till I scale a fame’s highest top.

At the beginning of age
When God made men in his own image
He started this “Plagiarist” trend
Which I am not gonna end.

And what is creativity?
If not an ability to hide
a source of theft
with impunity.

When there is nothing
original under the sun,
Why should I copy not
and deprive myself of fun.

So I’ll copy them word by word
be they Pablo, Shakespeare or Wordsworth.
I’ll copy them from morn to evening
And would excel HITESH and Kipling.
Can you prove, they were not plagiarist,
And had not copy from some poet’s list.

You can inform FBI, KGB or CIA,
But I won’t stop my wanton ways.
And I will copy without shame,
Till I earn big name and fame.

I will copy till people start copying me,
And then and then only I will
give up this vice with glee.: -)

(This poem is a sequel to poem, “hay all you people that like to copy” written by Melissa Schreuder)

Dr Hitesh C Sheth
19/05/2009

poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Copycat

They had an accident
And they never noticed anyway
A lack of originality
Couldnt focus on the day
So much for the radio
Everybody sounds the same
Everybody wears the same clothes now
And everybody plays the game
Copycat, copycat, copycat
Copy copy copy copy yourself
Copycat, copycat, copycat
Copy copy copy everyone else
Ive got a great idea
I will change things on my own
I see my vision very clear,
Wouldnt wanna be another clone
So much for the radio, the radio is sad
Sad, sad, sad
They had an accident
But they never noticed anyway
A lack of originality
Couldnt focus on the day
So much for the radio
Everybody sounds the same
Everybody wears the same clothes now,
And everybody plays the game
Copy everyone else x4

song performed by Cranberries
Added by Lucian Velea
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Admiral Mike

(michael nesmith)
Peaceful music (bmi)
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Youre selling ads you slimy toad
Dont smile at me and shake my hand
Youre killing me
Youre killing us
Because youre only
only selling ads
Youre selling ads you stupid twit
The naked lunch is on your knife
The homicides are suicides
Because youre only
only selling ads
Your copy kills
Your copy smells
Realities are crushed beneath the ads your copy sells
Go back to hell you giddy fools
There is no truth you cannot maim
He killed himself
You killed him first
Because youre only
only selling ads
Your copy kills
Your copy smells
Realities are crushed beneath the ads your copy sells
Youre selling ads you slimy toad
Dont smile at me and shake my hand
Youre killing me
Youre killing us
Because youre only
only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads

song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Could You

There's something about you boy,
That makes me want to skip through the town,
In the rain with you.
There's something about you.
And it makes my heart skip every other beat like a broken record.

You asked me the other day, if you should sing a certain song to a girl.
I said it'd be romantic, go for it.
But as my fingers hit those keys, I could only anxiously think,
If he'll ever sing it to me.
So when you figure who you could like, who you should love.
Could you please consider me?

Hey, boy. You make me spechless...

It's not another copy of, will you just glance at me.
Not another copy of, won't you just say a word to me.
The question is for you and for me.
'Baby could you love me, like I want to love you? '
Smiley boy, we could have a future together with no end.
There would be no lies, fakes, or pretends
Boy, all our friends would be jelous of what we have together.

I'd go to every single soccer game.
Cheer the loudest from the stands.
You'd go to every one of my track meets,
Loving me so much, it's hard to understand.

Hey, boy. You make me spechless...

It's not another copy of, will you just glance at me.
Not another copy of, won't you just say a word to me.
The question is for you and for me.
'Baby could you love me, like I want to love you? '

I never thought, not ever considered
That I could feel the way I do for you now.
But I'm glad it planned out the way.
That's the way I want it to stay.

Hey, boy. You make me spechless...

It's not another copy of, will you just glance at me.
Not another copy of, won't you just say a word to me.
The question is for you and for me.
'Baby could you love me, like I want to love you? '

You're the perfect boy for me, the sweet prince charming
Of my daydreams, you're the one rescuing me.
You play guitar and sing, what a wonderful thing.

[...] Read more

poem by Khloe Chace
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360 Degrees (What Goes Around)

[GPM] Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] The reel to reel to reel to reel yo
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] Copy copy copy copy copy
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] We gonna hit it down like this

song performed by Grand Puba from Reel to Reel
Added by Lucian Velea
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360 Degrees (What Goes Around)

[GPM] Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] The reel to reel to reel to reel yo
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] Copy copy copy copy copy
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] We gonna hit it down like this

song performed by Grand Puba from Reel to Reel
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Fable For Critics

Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;
Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,
And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk;
And, though 'twas a step into which he had driven her,
He somehow or other had never forgiven her;
Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,
Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic,
And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over
By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.
'My case is like Dido's,' he sometimes remarked;
'When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked
In a laurel, as _she_ thought-but (ah, how Fate mocks!)
She has found it by this time a very bad box;
Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-
You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it.
Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress!
What romance would be left?-who can flatter or kiss trees?
And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue
With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-
Not to say that the thought would forever intrude
That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood?
Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,
To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;
Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,
As they left me forever, each making its bough!
If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right,
Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.'

Now, Daphne-before she was happily treeified-
Over all other blossoms the lily had deified,
And when she expected the god on a visit
('Twas before he had made his intentions explicit),
Some buds she arranged with a vast deal of care,
To look as if artlessly twined in her hair,
Where they seemed, as he said, when he paid his addresses,
Like the day breaking through, the long night of her tresses;
So whenever he wished to be quite irresistible,
Like a man with eight trumps in his hand at a whist-table
(I feared me at first that the rhyme was untwistable,
Though I might have lugged in an allusion to Cristabel),-
He would take up a lily, and gloomily look in it,
As I shall at the--, when they cut up my book in it.

Well, here, after all the bad rhyme I've been spinning,
I've got back at last to my story's beginning:
Sitting there, as I say, in the shade of his mistress,
As dull as a volume of old Chester mysteries,

[...] Read more

poem by James Russell Lowell
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I Am Me

(diana ross/freddie gorman/janie bradford)
Go deep in circles
To find it in me
Rain falls around to my beginnings
So many riddles of my identity
I know all the answers of who Im supposed to be
I am me
Good or bad
I am myself
Im no carbon copy of no one else
Right or wrong
I will stand up like a tree
Happy or sad
Good or bad
I am me
I am me
Following a move
Set up by some others
I would lose myself
And become another
Should I fail
And come to my ruin
Or if I succeed
It would be, be my doing
Im me
Good or bad
I am myself
Im no carbon copy of no one else
Right or wrong
I will stand up like a tree
Happy or sad
Good or bad
I am me
I am me
Different images
So many people see
Not knowing themselves
They are unique
To copy may be flattery
I understand
I can be a better me
Than anyone else
I am me
Good or bad
I am myself
Im no carbon copy of no one else
Right or wrong
I will stand up like a tree
Happy or sad
Good or bad

[...] Read more

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Copy written Copy cats

Patience for what you want and what you have will soon flourish
Laughing in the sun’s eclipse is a sign of true courage
Close your eyes, hold your breath, and run see
The importance your mind and body places on money
And the madness it brings comes down in torrents
Because everyone else believes the paper’s important
I admit it’s necessary to get by on this turf
But success hardly equals every penny you’re worth

- Copy written copy cats purring on their master’s lap

Did God create man for Her own private screening?
Or did man create God to give his life meaning?
I believe in something much greater than myself
But not because I was told to by somebody else
Something’s keeping me breathing when I wake morning
If there isn’t, well I'm only here for the moment
There’s no way out of here so I hang on to my grin
Looking out of windows I can never look in

- Copy written copy cats purring on their master’s lap

Some don’t grab the reins ‘cause they think the saddle’s high
So they wait out the boredom ‘til their formaldehyde
I don’t believe in holy books, holy water or descriptions
I’m spiritual, but have no need for canons of religions
They’re too open to the powers of whomever’s in charge
For use on the less fortunate to fight for their cause
And that’s rarely anything to do with goodwill towards men
The real criminals don’t live inside the State Penn

poem by P.R. Prosper
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The Echo Of The Words

when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok

but i am ok, i am ok, i am ok.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Success is dangerous. One begins to copy oneself, and to copy oneself is more dangerous than to copy others. It leads to sterility.

quote by Pablo Picasso
Added by Lucian Velea
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Success is dangerous. One begins to copy oneself, and to copy oneself is more dangerous than to copy others. It leads to sterility.

aphorism by Pablo Picasso
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Man From Milwaukee

It started at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere
Sitting beside me was a man with no hair
]From the look on his face and the size of his toes
He comes from a place that nobody knows
Maybe I'm hallucinating, hyperventilating
Letting this big-toed bald man sitting here tell me about the sky
Maybe I'm hallucinating, hyperventilating
If you asked me now then I couldn't tell you why
I've been sitting here too long by a man from Milwaukee
He's been talking too long on his yellow walkie talkie
He's been talking to Mars but I think he's wacky
He says they'll come get him, come get him some day
He says where he's from is called Albertane
There they use more than 10% of the brain
But you couldn't tell it from they way they behave
They run around in underwear and they never shave
Or maybe I'm hallucinating, hyperventilating
Letting this big-toed bald man sitting here tell me about the sky
Maybe I'm hallucinating, hyperventilating
If you asked me now then I couldn't tell you why
(Repeat Chorus)
This is Mother Bird calling Baby Bird
Baby Bird come in, come in Baby Bird
For the love of Pete come in!
This is Baby Bird...sorry I was watching Court TV
Do you copy? Do you copy?
Of course we copy...24 hours a day...in color
You wouldn't believe me if I told you the rest
The man sitting by me who was barely dressed
Flew off to Milwaukee or perhaps Albertane
And left me at the bus stop just barely sane
I've been sitting here too long thinkin' about Milwaukee
I've been talking too long on my yellow walkie talkie
I'm talking to Mars you may think I'm wacky
I know they'll come get me, come get me someday
I know they'll come get me and take me away
I know they'll come get me, come get me someday
If not tomorrow then maybe today

song performed by Hanson
Added by Lucian Velea
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If Six Was Nine

Witten by: jimi hendrix
If the sun refused to shine
I don't mind, no baby i don't mind
And if the mountains fell in the sea
It ain't me, you know you've got to be free
I got my own world to live through
And i ain't gonna copy you
Now if six turned out to be nine
I don't mind, no baby i don't mind,
If all the hippies cut off all their hair,
I don't care, no baby i don't care
Because i, i've got my own world to live through,
And i ain't gonna copy you
White collar conservative walkin' down the street
Pointin' their plastic finger at me,
Hopin' my kind will drop and die
But i'm gonna wave my freak flag high,
So..., play on drummer
I've got my own world to live through,
And i ain't gonna copy you

song performed by Lenny Kravitz
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Think Im A Clone Now

Isnt it strange
Feels like Im lookin in the mirror
What would people say
If only they knew that I was
Part of some geneticists plan (plan-plan-plan)
Born to be a carbon copy man (man-man-man)
There in a petri dish late one night
They took a donors body cell and fertilized a human egg and so I say
I think Im a clone now
Theres always two of me just a-hangin around
I think Im a clone now
cause every chromosome is a hand-me-down
Look at the way
We go out walking close together
I guess you could say
Im really beside myself
I still remember how it began (gan-gan-gan)
They produced a carbon copy man (man-man-man)
Born in a science lab late one night
Without a mother or a father, just a test tube and a womb with a view
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
Theres always two of me just a-hangin around
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
cause every chromosome is a hand-me-down
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
And I can stay at home while Im out of town
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
cause every pair of genes is a hand-me-down
Signing autographs for my fans
Come and meet the carbon copy man
Livin in stereo, its all right
Well I can be my own best friend and I can send myself for pizza so I say
I think Im a clone now
Another one of mes always hangin around
I think Im a clone now
cause every chromosome is a hand-me-down
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
Ive been on oprah winfrey - Im world renowned
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
And every pair of genes is a hand-me-down
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
Thats my genetic twin always hangin around
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)
cause every chromosome is a hand-me-down
I think Im a clone now (a clone now)

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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A true artist is born with a unique voice and cannot copy so he has only to copy to prove his originality.

quote by Radiquet
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Perhaps the most versatile and useful plug-in in the collection is Mass Copy. It is certainly the one I use the most. Due to limitations in how plugins can interact with Finale, Mass Copy has a somewhat unusual user interface.

quote by Robert Patterson
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Perhaps you could sympathize with those who seek to replace a dead child with a copy, or to copy a parent or a relative or even a celebrity.

quote by Leon Kass
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You can't copy anybody and end with anything. If you copy, it means you're working without any real feeling.

quote by Billie Holiday
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