I read in the newspapers they are going to have 30 minutes of intellectual stuff on television every Monday from 7:30 to 8. to educate America. They couldn't educate America if they started at 6:30.
quote by Groucho Marx
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Monday Monday
Bah da bah da da da
Bah da bah da da da
Bah da bah da da da
Monday Monday so good to me
Monday mornin' it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday mornin' Monday mornin' couldn't guarantee
That Monday evenin' you would still be here with me
Monday Monday can't trust that day
Monday Monday sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday mornin' you gave me no warnin' of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday how could you leave and not take me
Every other day every other day
Every other day of the week is fine yeah
But whenever Monday comes but whenever Monday comes
A you can find me cryin' all of the time
Monday Monday so good to me
Monday mornin' it was all I hoped it would be
But Monday mornin' Monday mornin' couldn't guarantee
That Monday evenin' you would still be here with me
Every other day every other day
Every other day of the week is fine yeah
But whenever Monday comes but whenever Monday comes
A you can find me cryin' all of the time
Monday Monday can't trust that day
Monday Monday it just turns out that way
Oh Monday Monday won't go away
Monday Monday it's here to stay
Oh Monday Monday
Oh Monday Monday
song performed by Hear'Say from Popstars
Added by Lucian Velea
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Monday Monday
Monday, Monday
So good to me.
Monday, Monday
It was all I hoped it would be.
Oh Monday morning
Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening
You would still be here with me.
Monday, Monday
Can't trust that day.
Monday, Monday
Sometimes it just turns out that way.
On Monday morning
You gave me no warning
Of what was to be.
On Monday, Monday
How could you leave
And not take me?
Every other day
Every other day
Every other day
Of the week is fine, yeah.
But whenever Monday comes
But whenever Monday comes
You can find me crying
All of the time.
Monday, Monday
So good to me.
Monday, Monday
It was all I hoped it would be.
Oh Monday morning,
Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening
You would still be here with me.
Every other day
Every other day
Every other day
Of the week is fine, yeah.
But whenever Monday comes
But whenever Monday comes
You can find me crying
All of the time.
Monday, Monday,
Can't trust that day.
Monday, Monday,
Just turns out that way.
Oh, Monday, Monday,
Don't go away.
Oh, Monday, Monday
It's here to stay
[...] Read more
song performed by Wilson Phillips
Added by Lucian Velea
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Elegiac Feelings American
1
How inseparable you and the America you saw yet was never
there to see; you and America, like the tree and the
ground, are one the same; yet how like a palm tree
in the state of Oregon. . . dead ere it blossomed,
like a snow polar loping the
Miami—
How so that which you were or hoped to be, and the
America not, the America you saw yet could
not see
So like yet unlike the ground from which you stemmed;
you stood upon America like a rootless
Hat-bottomed tree; to the squirrel there was no
divorcement in its hop of ground to its climb of
tree. . . until it saw no acorn fall, then it knew
there was no marriage between the two; how
fruitless, how useless, the sad unnaturalness
of nature; no wonder the dawn ceased being
a joy. . . for what good the earth and sun when
the tree in between is good for nothing. . . the
inseparable trinity, once dissevered, becomes a
cold fruitless meaningless thrice-marked
deathlie in its awful amputation. . . O butcher
the pork-chop is not the pig—The American
alien in America is a bitter truncation; and even
this elegy, dear Jack, shall have a butchered
tree, a tree beaten to a pulp, upon which it'll be
contained—no wonder no good news can be
written on such bad news—
How alien the natural home, aye, aye, how dies the tree when
the ground is foreign, cold, unfree—The winds
know not to blow the seed of the Redwood where
none before stood; no palm is blown to Oregon,
how wise the wind—Wise
too the senders of the prophet. . . knowing the
fertility of the designated spot where suchmeant
prophecy be announced and answerable—the
sower of wheat does not sow in the fields of cane;
for the sender of the voice did also send the ear.
And were little Liechtenstein, and not America, the
designation. . . surely then we'd the tongues of
Liechtenstein—
Was not so much our finding America as it was America finding
its voice in us; many spoke to America as though
America by land-right was theirs by law-right
legislatively acquired by materialistic coups of
wealth and inheritance; like the citizen of society
believes himself the owner of society, and what he
makes of himself he makes of America and thus when
he speaks of America he speaks of himself, and quite
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Corso
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Give and Free It Up On The Rough Stuff
When I was hard,
It wasn't enough.
The sensitive and warm nice guy,
I had to give with no hint of the tough stuff.
I was the one who supplied the tenderness,
With touches.
Supplied I did the sweet kisses too!
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!
The sensitive and warm nice guy,
I had to be with no hint of the tough stuff.
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
That rough stuff.
That rough stuff.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I was the one who supplied the tenderness,
With touches.
Supplied I did sweet kisses too!
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My version of Ginsberg's America.
Against the filthy politics found in America and against the actions of it's dispicable governments.
America tell Coloumbus to fook off, take his smallpox and Capitalism with him.
America, you've swallowed your national mythology like pancakes and syrup.
America, Land where eugenics was tried
America, Land where the native americans cried
America, Land where warmongering thrives
America, you think you're the world police.
America, you were duped by a Christian to believe he's the prince of peace and now a black man convinces you the same.
America, your obsession with religion is insane.
America, I hope your guilt drives you to suicide, having to stare into the eyes of the children of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
America, I hope the masterminds of the Manhattan Project are suffering like they should.
America, your dream is as fake as Hollywood.
America, what the hell happened in Zuccotti Park?
America, you actually have a exhibition dedicated to Noah's ark?
America, where is this democracy you're trying to spread?
America, why won't you let the poor be fed?
America, you lead the west in destroying the world and waging war.
America land of MKULTRA and CO-INTELPRO
America land of Glenn beck, Neo-cons, where gay marriage is a 'no no'.
America, you're no city on the hill.
America, you're the home of the corporate shill.
America, you're oil addiction has make the globe ill.
America, your tv channels still project cold war closed minds.
America, how is it that slaves built the white house?
America, what exactly did you mean by 'All men are born free and equal'? Terms and conditions apply?
America, what are you doing to right past wrongs?
America, where's your concern for the Navajo?
America, I would've fought with Geronimo.
America, I think you've forgotten the Treaty of Fort Laramie.
America, Pay back in blood those killed at Wounded Knee.
America, you lied about Pine Ridge and the FBI really killed Annie Mae.
America, massacring to the tune of a million dollars to catch a single man.
America, which small country will you invade next? America, I can see your eyeing up Iran.
America, You wouldn't want what happened in Diego Garcia to happen to you.
America you know a thing or two about Coup
America Bikini Atoll is still ailing.
America, Love Canal is ruined.
America, I love the Wobblies.
America, The city of Chicago can built statues but it really just needs to apologize.
America, you've poisioned us all.
America, Land of Bush, of agent orange and Monsanto
America, Trainers of the Taliban, guards of Guantanamo
[...] Read more
poem by Scott Forster
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Rot Stuff
Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for this funeral to end
Dug up about a thousand graves lately
My tastes are what some might call
A little more then just off the wall
Lookin' for some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
I want some rot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have some rot stuff
Gotta have your corpse tonight
Rot stuff
I need rot stuff
I want some rot stuff
Lookin' for a lover who's 6 feet under
Don' t want another night on my own
Wanna share my fetish with a cold blooded lover
Wanna bring a dead man back home
Gotta have some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
I want some rot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have something cold
Gotta have something rotting under me tonight
I need rot stuff
Cold rot
Lookin' for cold rot
Rot, rot, rot, rot stuff
Rot, rot, rot
Rot, rot, rot, rot stuff
Rot, rot, rot
How's about some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
Gimme a little rot stuff this evenin'
Rot stuff baby
Gonna need your corpse tonight
Rot stuff
I need something cold and rotting
Lookin' for some rot stuff
Wanna make love to a dead man tonight
Sittin' here eatin' my heart out
No more listening to this funeral march can I do
Won't waste another night or moment on my own
I've dug up about a hundred graves baby
I'm bound to find somebody as horny as I am tonight
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Monday Papers
I dont want to go out any more
I read the news, I cant believe my eyes
I push the table against the door
You know Ive had it with the world outside
If you want to know about the murderers and junkies
If you want to know about the lower east side
Now they got a map shows you where to get your monkey
You can read it in the monday papers, monday papers
Some people like a little gore
Some people always at the scenes of crimes
Now they can watch the tv more
Now they can get it in the sunday times
If you find it hard to handle what you see on page one
You can pull the funnies out and have some laughs
Take a drink and maybe you can laugh at ronald reagan
You can read it in the monday papers, read it in the monday papers
Monday papers dont ask no questions
Monday papers dont get no lies
Monday papers dont raise objection
Monday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to be a star
Ladies - if you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the monday papers, read it in the monday papers
Monday papers dont ask no questions
Monday papers dont get no lies
Monday papers dont raise objection
Monday papers dont got no eyes
Monday papers dont ask no questions
Monday papers dont get no lies
Monday papers dont raise objection
Monday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, monday papers
song performed by Joe Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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Come Monday
In 3B it's Diane
And she's makin' a plan
She says
I'm gonna change my hair
It just don't fit my face anymore
I'm gettin' out of here
I just don't like this place anymore
Tired of all the stallin'
This time it's for good
Come monday
Come monday
My life starts again
My new point of view is beginning
Come monday
That one day
My ship's comin' in
And this time I'm ready to roll!
Come monday
Come monday
Now here's Ken in 5N
And he swears once again
He says
I'm gonna lose the weight
Gonna get in to my clothes again
I'm gonna graduate
I'm gonna be the one who knows again
No more lame excuses
Then it's understood!
Come monday
Come monday
My life starts again
My new point of view is beginning
Come monday
That one day
My ship's comin' in
And this time I'm ready to roll!
Come monday
Come monday
Come monday
Come this monday
Hey Bob, I'm changin' my job!
Hey men, I'm making a plan!
Yeah slim,I'm joinin a gym!
And this time I'm ready to roll!
Come monday
Come monday
My life starts again
My new point of view is beginning
Come monday
That one day
[...] Read more
song performed by Barry Manilow
Added by Lucian Velea
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25 Minutes To Go
They're buildin' the gallows outside my cell.
I got 25 minutes to go.
And in 25 minutes I'll be in Hell.
I got 24 minutes to go.
Well, they give me some beans for my last meal.
23 minutes to go.
And you know... nobody asked me how I feel.
I got 22 minutes to go.
So, I wrote to the Gov'nor... the whole damned bunch.
Ahhh... 21 minutes to go.
And I call up the Mayor, and he's out to lunch.
I got 20 more minutes to go.
Well, the Sheriff says, 'Boy, I wanna watch you die'.
19 minutes to go.
I laugh in his face... and I spit in his eye.
I got 18 minutes to go.
Well...I call out to the Warden to hear my plea.
17 minute to go.
He says, 'Call me back in a week or three.
You've got 16 minutes to go.'
Well, my lawyer says he's sorry he missed my case.
Mmmm....15 minutes to go.
Yeah, well if you're so sorry, come up and take my place.
I got 14 minutes to go.
Well, now here comes the padre to save my soul
With 13 minutes to go.
And he's talkin' about burnin', but I'm so damned cold.
I got 12 more minutes to go.
Now they're testin' the trap. It chills my spine.
I got 11 minutes to go.
'Cuz the goddamned thing it works just fine.
I got 10 more minutes to go.
I'm waitin' for the pardon... gonna set me free
[...] Read more
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Telemaniaco / Tele Maniac
Un cavernícola golpea a su amada / A caveman hits his lover
y se la lleva de los pelos a la cueva / and it takes it to him from the hair to the cave
no se preocupe no ha pasado nada / don't worry it has not passed anything
el noticiero de las nueve lo comprueba / the news report of nine o'clock checks it
Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
Me siento bién definitivamente / I feel so good definitively
necesitaba esa dosis de novelas / I really needed that dosis of novels
ya he llorado por cuatro horas y media / I´ve been crying for four hours and a half
ahora cambio para ver una comedia / and now I´m change to see some comedy
Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
Los dibujitos animados son lo máximo / The cartoons are the maximum thing
me gusta verlos una y otra vez / I like to see them an and another time
luego con mis amigotes los imito / later with my pals I imitate them
y hacemos gala de nuestra inmadurez / and we make Gallic of our immaturity
Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
Las heroínas buscando chicos malos / The heroines looking for bad boys
los chicos malos buscando diversión / the bad boys looking for amusement
los superhéroes volando por los cielos / the superheros flying for the skies
las chicas pierden sus ligas en el bronx / the girls lose their suspenders in the bronx
Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
Cómo me aburro estudiando y trabajando / How I get bored studying and working
con mis papeles y con el profesor / with my papers and with the professor
tan solo quiero volver corriendo a casa / all I want is to return running home
para sentarme frente al televisor / to sit down in front of the television
Es un telemaníaco / He is a tele maniac
ama la televisión ama la televisión / He loves to watch the TV, he loves to watch the TV
[...] Read more
poem by Ramiro 2 Burgos
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Luv Your Stuff
(myles goodwyn)
Published by mfg sing sing music/socan - ascap
Everytime I get restless, I see my hand knockin on your door
And everytime Im in a fix baby, I start actin like I need you more
Well Ive been lookin for someone to talk to
And Ive been searchin for a better way
And Ive been runnin all over town, girl
Ive been lookin each and every way, yeah
But you got somethin special
And Im bein on the level with you
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), mmm, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), at five oclock in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), still cant get enough
(great stuff, luv your stuff)
Livin like a fool in flames
You know that I been usin you, girl
And Im the one to blame
But babe, I got my cupboards all stocked and ready
What you get girl, is what you see
And youve been lookin inside my head now
And you got your arms wrapped around me, mmm
I got no thing for our candy
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), send the bill in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), get busy
I got no sense of reason, I know I gotta make a deal
Its all comin down to somethin baby, its tellin me I got to get real, huh
I got my senses in a tuft, Im all mixed up, my temperatures starting to rise
And I cant seem to stay away from you, girl, I think its more than we realized, yeah
Wont you look what its doin
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), Ill pay the price in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff)
song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Laundromat Monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
I want my mother, someone to cook for me
Each day another, take out no msg
Im gonna change the world, but not today
Think Ill just go get drunk down on avenue a
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
I want a french maid, someone to wash my jeans
Each quarter Ive made is lost in washing machines
Im gonna change the world, I could be president
If I could just work out where all my mondays went
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
song performed by Joe Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ten Minutes Aint Enough
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To have my needs satisfactorily pleased.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With a chat that sits.
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With eyes that are fixed.
And not drifting.
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To have my needs satisfactorily pleased.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
Some may wish a quick...
Beginning that swiftly ends.
With nothing to explore.
But an exit out a door!
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With a chat that sits.
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With eyes that are fixed.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hot Stuff
(coverdale)
Im ready for you,
Are you ready for me
Ive got a burning heart,
It wont let me be
I feel the hunger, my spirit yearns,
Ive got to feed the fever
Of a love that burns
I walk the street round midnight,
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff
Im hard to handle,
Too hot to hold
I cant seem to satisfy
My heart an soul
I need a woman to set me free,
A little miss understanding
To feel the need in me
I walk the street round midnight,
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff
Im ready for you,
Are you ready for me
Ive got a burning heart,
It wont let me be
I feel the hunger, my spirit yearns,
Ive got to feed the fever
Of a love that burns
I walk the street round midnight
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff
Hot stuff, cant get enuff hot stuff...
song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ruffled Up
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Because I'm tough enough.
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!
I'm gotta beat it.
Since I can't leave it.
To grieve over weeping.
And compare my pains.
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
That's got me ruffled up!
I've had it,
With this stuff.
Too many,
Suffer enough.
And too much stuff that corrupts...
Is,
Enough!
I've had it,
With this stuff.
Too many,
Suffer enough.
And too much stuff that corrupts...
Is,
Enough!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The American Way
1
I am a great American
I am almost nationalistic about it!
I love America like a madness!
But I am afraid to return to America
I'm even afraid to go into the American Express—
2
They are frankensteining Christ in America
in their Sunday campaigns
They are putting the fear of Christ in America
under their tents in their Sunday campaigns
They are driving old ladies mad with Christ in America
They are televising the gift of healing and the fear of hell
in America under their tents in their Sunday
campaigns
They are leaving their tents and are bringing their Christ
to the stadiums of America in their Sunday
campaigns
They are asking for a full house an all get out
for their Christ in the stadiums of America
They are getting them in their Sunday and Saturday
campaigns
They are asking them to come forward and fall on their
knees
because they are all guilty and they are coming
forward
in guilt and are falling on their knees weeping their
guilt
begging to be saved O Lord O Lord in their Monday
Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday
and Sunday campaigns
3
It is a time in which no man is extremely wondrous
It is a time in which rock stupidity
outsteps the 5th Column as the sole enemy in America
It is a time in which ignorance is a good Ameri-cun
ignorance is excused only where it is so
it is not so in America
Man is not guilty Christ is not to be feared
I am telling you the American Way is a hideous monster
eating Christ making Him into Oreos and Dr. Pepper
the sacrament of its foul mouth
I am telling you the devil is impersonating Christ in America
America's educators & preachers are the mental-dictators
of false intelligence they will not allow America
to be smart
they will only allow death to make America smart
[...] Read more
poem by Gregory Corso
Added by Poetry Lover
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Monday Comes Around
Friday, Monday, comes around
She's a girl with the weight of the world on her big brown eyes
She's a girl who's been talking to herself to apologize
She'll never do it again she promised
But then she hasn't been all that honest
Can she trust herself to be herself
Or is she talking to herself again
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
When Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Monday comes wondering where do you run to find a second start
Where do you go when you're broke and alone and Friday falls apart
Yeah, yeah
All these questions are leaving her shaking
Can you be two girls in one
Can your heart bend this much without breaking
You know that you know and you can never have it both ways
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
When Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Don't take it easy
Don't take it easy
Who says somebody's giving and taking, giving and taking
Everybody's taking away
(Monday comes around...)
Friday, Monday, comes around...
song performed by Switchfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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30 Minutes
Mama, papa forgive me
Out of sight, out of mind
Out of time to decide
Do we run? should I hide
For the rest of my life
Can we fly? do we stay?
We could lose we could fail
And the more minutes take
To make planer, or mistakes
30 minutes, the blink of the night
30 minutes to alter our lifes
30 minutes to make up my mind
30 minutes to finally decide
30 minutes to whisper your name
30 minutes to shelter the blame
30 minutes of bliss, 30 lies
30 minutes to finally decide
Carousels in the sky
That we shape with our eyes
Under shade silhouettes casting
Shapes crying rain
Can we fly do I stay
We could lose, we could fail
Either way, options change
Chances fail, trains derail.
30 minutes, the blink of the night
30 minutes to all of our lifes
30 minutes to make up my mind
30 minutes to finally decide
30 minutes to whisper your name
30 minutes to show her the blame
30 minutes of bliss, 30 lies
30 minutes to finally decide
To decide, to decide to decide to decide
(repeat until fade)
song performed by Tatu
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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