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Thailand stands at a crossroads.

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Crossroads

By robert johnson
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the lord above for mercy, save me if you please.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
You can still barrelhouse, baby, on the riverside.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
And Im standing at the crossroads, believe Im sinking down.

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Crossroads

By robert johnson
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the lord above for mercy, save me if you please.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
You can still barrelhouse, baby, on the riverside.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
And Im standing at the crossroads, believe Im sinking down.

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Crossroads

By robert johnson
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the lord above for mercy, save me if you please.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
Im going down to rosedale, take my rider by my side.
You can still barrelhouse, baby, on the riverside.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
You can run, you can run, tell my friend-boy willie brown.
And Im standing at the crossroads, believe Im sinking down.

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Crossroads

[Originally by Robert Johnson]
I went to the crossroads, fell down on my knees
I went to the crossroads, fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above, have mercy now, save poor Bob if you please
Standin' at the crossroads, tried to flag a ride
Whee-hee, I tried to flag a ride
Didn't nobody seem to know me, everybody pass me by
Standin' at the crossroads, risin' sun goin' down
Standin' at the crossroads baby, the risin' sun goin' down
I believe to my soul now, po' Bob is sinkin' down
You can run, you can run, tell my friend Willie Brown
You can run, you can run, tell my friend Willie Brown
That I got the crossroad blues this mornin', Lord, baby I'm sinkin' down
I went to the crossroad, mama, I looked east and west
I went to the crossroad, babe, I looked east and west
Lord, I didn't have no sweet woman, ooh well, babe, in my distress

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The Twa Sisters

There liv'd twa sisters in a bower,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
There liv'd twa sisters in a bower,
Stirling for aye:
The youngest o' them, O, she was a flower!
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

There came a squire frae the west,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
There cam a squire frae the west,
Stirling for aye:
He lo'ed them baith, but the youngest best,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

He gied the eldest a gay gold ring,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
He gied the eldest a gay gold ring,
Stirling for aye:
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

'Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea?
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea?
Stirling for aye:
Our father's ships sail bonnilie,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.'

The youngest sat down upon a stane,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
The youngest sat down upon a stane,
Stirling for aye:
The eldest shot the youngest in,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

'Oh sister, sister, lend me your hand,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh, sister, sister, lend me your hand,
Stirling for aye:
And you shall hae my gouden fan,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

'Oh, sister, sister, save my life,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh sister, sister, save my life,
Stirling for aye:
And ye shall be the squire's wife,
Bonny Sweet Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.'

First she sank, and then she swam,

[...] Read more

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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

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The Pillage Hangman - Parody LONGFELLOW - The Village Blacksmith

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The Smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming furge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church
and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach.
He hears his daughter's voice
singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, -rejoicing, -sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend

[...] Read more

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Crossroads

The wind is howlin
The rain pours down
Eyes are blood-shot
Heartbeat pounds.
Lights go out
The whole worlds in darkness
The ground is tremblin
Dogs are barkless.
In the sky there appears a great light
Burnin all the flesh off the creatures of the night.
Aaahhhh! cryin in a childless (? ) tone
Terrified of dyin a painful death alone.
Dont smile
Lest a innocent (? ) chile
The power of God is gonna get to be your tal (? ).
Throw like a hit from the best
Take it in a slump
Ha ha
Feel it in your chest.
Conquerin the world with the words
Leadin the children like herds.
I can feel it buildin
Im about to explode
Im walkin on the crossroad
[refrain] (x2)
People livin in a shack - at the crossroads
Little kids sellin crack - at the crossroads
(? ) stab you in the back - at the crossroads
Everybodies gettin jacked at the crossroads
Violins and trumpets play
25 thousand people in a golden sleigh
On there way to the promise land.
Deliverance
But yet some dont understand.
Rough on a late night thrill
After midnight
Kill or be killed.
Soldiers, warriors
(? ) at each other
On the combat zone.
Supreme power on the throne.
Lighting strikes in every home.
Terrified men run down the street.
So many dead bodies
Its hard to eat.
Come, we gotta rise
Above the wall.
To see what no man has seen before.
Blindin light
That got you through the night.

[...] Read more

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Crossroad

(robert johnson)
I went down to the crosroads
Fell down on my knees
Down to the crossroads
Fell down on my knees
I said Im beggin for mercy wont you take me
If you please
I went down to the crossroads
Tried to beg a ride
I went down to the crossroads
Tried to beg a ride
Nobody seemed to know me
Everybody passed me by
Take a ride
Going down toward rosedale
Took loretta by my side
Going down to rosedale
Took loretta by my side
Can still buy a house there
On the riverside
One more time
You can run, you can run
Tell all my friends Ill be by
You can run, you can run
Tell my friends Ill be by
And Ill be stayin in the crossroads
I believe Im sinkin down

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Crossroads

(Robert Johnson)
I went down to the crosroads
Fell down on my knees
Down to the crossroads
Fell down on my knees
I said I'm beggin' for mercy won't you take me
If you please
I went down to the crossroads
Tried to beg a ride
I went down to the crossroads
Tried to beg a ride
Nobody seemed to know me
Everybody passed me by
Take a ride
Going down toward Rosedale
Took Loretta by my side
Going down to Rosedale
Took Loretta by my side
Can still buy a house there
On the riverside
One more time
You can run, you can run
Tell all my friends I'll be by
You can run, you can run
Tell my friends I'll be by
And I'll be stayin' in the crossroads
I believe I'm sinkin' down

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Eve Of a Crossroads Approaching

We're at the eve of a crossroads approaching.
Those who are ready in their minds,
Know!

We're at the pinnacle where good meets evil.
Some recognize this.
Some will deny this.

We're at the eve of a crossroads approaching.
Those who are ready in their minds,
Know!

We're at the pinnacle where good meets evil.
Some recognize this.
Some will deny this.

Faith and belief...
Have kept some people,
Freed of grief...
To leap and leave.
Knowing a wait relates to waste.

We're at the eve of a crossroads approaching.
Those who are ready in their minds,
Know!

We're at the pinnacle where good meets evil.
Some recognize this.
Some will deny this.
Some will defy this and try to hide.

Faith and belief...
Have kept some people,
Freed of grief...
To leap and leave.
Knowing a wait relates to waste.
In a hesitation that creates more devastation.

We're at the pinnacle where good meets evil.
Some recognize this.
Some will deny this.
Some will defy this and try to hide.

Faith and belief...
Have kept some people,
Freed of grief...
To leap and leave.
Knowing a wait relates to waste.
And...
These are the people not in foolish debates!

[...] Read more

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Name Value

What is a name?
What does it mean?

From where does it attain stamina?
From whence are its tactics formulated?

What does it signify when processing
an established aristocratic name-tag?


A name derives authentic revered value; both
individually and collectively; without exception;
sourced upon each birthed or adopted member;
within extended compressed collective; known as family.

Therefore a name stands spot-lighted; solitary in soliloquy;
resting upon inquisitional value; each optimum responsible ranked;
caring moralistic member; associate; places superimposed upon it.

It stands soluble in soprano; resting upon;
greatest and lowest achievements; an associated
individual; productively or carelessly insolvent produces.

It stands solvent upon sojourn soiree;
as sorrowful as actions regretted induce;
for collective crimes are ingredients sordid.

It stands upon all reputations in friendship enemy associations.
It stands upon all glorious or ignoble endeavours attempted.
It stands upon all achievements failures triumphs disasters.
It stands upon all morality integrity compassion or exploitation.
It stands upon all random rumoured or proven past actions.

A name posses no more; than sum totaled; money rolled;
steadfast patronage power; corporation willed; applied or directed.
Talisman talent we individually; or collectively; endow it with.
It stands or falls; upon aspirations; upon dreams; upon talented gut
feelings; upon all social mobility; arising from actions deliberated.

In truth a name; cannot mean more; than we make it.
It is ingested; as ingredients; in our ingressed identity.

It is harmonious or inharmonious interaction; innovative within; interconnected family fibre; comprising collective embodiment.

It is the synchronism synopsis; of simultaneous contemporary
events; within precession of historically arranged; preceding events.

A name is n extended; elementary identity; we walk within.
Irremovable clothing; we wear upon class judged; inquisition.

[...] Read more

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Walt Whitman

Song Of The Broad-Axe

WEAPON, shapely, naked, wan!
Head from the mother's bowels drawn!
Wooded flesh and metal bone! limb only one, and lip only one!
Gray-blue leaf by red-heat grown! helve produced from a little seed
sown!
Resting the grass amid and upon,
To be lean'd, and to lean on.

Strong shapes, and attributes of strong shapes--masculine trades,
sights and sounds;
Long varied train of an emblem, dabs of music;
Fingers of the organist skipping staccato over the keys of the great
organ.


Welcome are all earth's lands, each for its kind; 10
Welcome are lands of pine and oak;
Welcome are lands of the lemon and fig;
Welcome are lands of gold;
Welcome are lands of wheat and maize--welcome those of the grape;
Welcome are lands of sugar and rice;
Welcome the cotton-lands--welcome those of the white potato and sweet
potato;
Welcome are mountains, flats, sands, forests, prairies;
Welcome the rich borders of rivers, table-lands, openings;
Welcome the measureless grazing-lands--welcome the teeming soil of
orchards, flax, honey, hemp;
Welcome just as much the other more hard-faced lands; 20
Lands rich as lands of gold, or wheat and fruit lands;
Lands of mines, lands of the manly and rugged ores;
Lands of coal, copper, lead, tin, zinc;
LANDS OF IRON! lands of the make of the axe!


The log at the wood-pile, the axe supported by it;
The sylvan hut, the vine over the doorway, the space clear'd for a
garden,
The irregular tapping of rain down on the leaves, after the storm is
lull'd,
The wailing and moaning at intervals, the thought of the sea,
The thought of ships struck in the storm, and put on their beam ends,
and the cutting away of masts;
The sentiment of the huge timbers of old-fashion'd houses and
barns; 30
The remember'd print or narrative, the voyage at a venture of men,
families, goods,
The disembarkation, the founding of a new city,
The voyage of those who sought a New England and found it--the outset
anywhere,
The settlements of the Arkansas, Colorado, Ottawa, Willamette,

[...] Read more

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Its A Crime Of The Heart

When I think about love
Honey, you always come across my mind
Is it the way that you hold me
Or the way that you told me love is blind
Well, its a crime of the heart
These things Im thinking to myself
But I cant forget you, babe
Just cant seem to think of nothing else.
Got a woman at home
A family to feed
Three fine children
They think the lord of me
Now Im standing at the crossroads
Looking for a sign of true love.
Well, I heard that song
Says girls just wanna have fun
Well, I guess I bought my ticket, honey
cause it feels as if the ride has just begun
Well, theres two kinds of love
One is wrong and one is right
But I cant forget you baby
Cant forget the way you hold me tight.
I got a woman at home
A family to feed
Three fine children
They think the lord of me
Well, Im standing at the crossroads
Looking for a sign of true love.
When I think about women
Honey, you always come across my mind
Is it the way that you told me
The way you told me love is blind
Well, its a crime of the heart
These things Im thinking to myself now
Cant forget you, babe
Cant forget the way you make me feel.
I got a woman at home
A family to feed
Three fine children
At the crossroads
Looking for a sign of true love.

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The Whisper Of Your Heart

(written by chuck cannon)
Daddy told me when I was young
He said its a long road youve begun
Sometimes its easy, sometimes its hard
But as you walk the road remember who you are
Youve gotta roll with the punches
Youve gotta aim to hit the mark
Youve gotta follow your hunches
And try to finish what you start
And when you come to the crossroads
And youre deciding in the dark
Youve gotta listen to the whisper of your heart
He said make it a practice to be true
cause when push comes down to shove its up to you
To keep believing in your dreams
And to sing your song if youve got a song to sing
Youve gotta roll with the punches
Youve gotta aim to hit the mark
Youve gotta follow your hunches
And try to finish what you start
And when you come to the crossroads
And youre deciding in the dark
Youve gotta listen to the whisper of your heart
The years have come, the years have gone
Yes and I have learned some lessons on my own
The winds of fortune are sure to change
But the wisdom in these words will stay the same
Youve gotta roll with the punches
Youve gotta aim to hit the mark
Youve gotta follow your hunches
And try to finish what you start
And when you come to the crossroads
And youre deciding in the dark
Youve gotta listen to the whisper of your heart

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This Child Within The Man {When Crossroads Connect}

Crossroads splitting 'neath July's late sun,
like a silent tremor,
four streets meet,
and it's time for decision-
where to go now.
Looking for alternate roads,
sun dying fast,
narrowing paths and options.

I see a bridge beyond and 'neath
a backdrape of golden
trimmed burgandy;
high sunset bleeding
into evenings mergence,
like a virgin falling,
falling-
falling to her knees
slowly, softly-
to her knees.

I wait for sunsets torch pass
to twilight, such nuance
of final subtle change of light,
enabling me to find a path...
and take me home.

But, the 'wait' seemed as endless time-
endless time;
made my mind drift away -
from logical concepts,
my world of command-
and inexplicably...I was a child again,
approaching the Bridge and grinning
at the illusive kaleidoscopics above,
dripping from the sky.....
like strawberry syrup.

Darkness free from daylights womb,
smothering twilights breath
in concert with three-quarters Moon -
resurrecting light to the nascent eve.

And upon a closer look, i see-
that these crossroads ne'er split, at all;
ne'er at all;
that the abstract drip of Sunset
had merely cast deception
on the roads roughshod pavement
i'd attempted to negotiate,
as all men tend to do!

[...] Read more

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Metamorphoses: Book The Sixth

PALLAS, attending to the Muse's song,
Approv'd the just resentment of their wrong;
And thus reflects: While tamely I commend
Those who their injur'd deities defend,
My own divinity affronted stands,
And calls aloud for justice at my hands;
Then takes the hint, asham'd to lag behind,
And on Arachne' bends her vengeful mind;
One at the loom so excellently skill'd,
That to the Goddess she refus'd to yield.
The Low was her birth, and small her native town,
Transformation She from her art alone obtain'd renown.
of Arachne Idmon, her father, made it his employ,
into a Spider To give the spungy fleece a purple dye:
Of vulgar strain her mother, lately dead,
With her own rank had been content to wed;
Yet she their daughter, tho' her time was spent
In a small hamlet, and of mean descent,
Thro' the great towns of Lydia gain'd a name,
And fill'd the neighb'ring countries with her fame.
Oft, to admire the niceness of her skill,
The Nymphs would quit their fountain, shade, or
hill:
Thither, from green Tymolus, they repair,
And leave the vineyards, their peculiar care;
Thither, from fam'd Pactolus' golden stream,
Drawn by her art, the curious Naiads came.
Nor would the work, when finish'd, please so much,
As, while she wrought, to view each graceful touch;
Whether the shapeless wool in balls she wound,
Or with quick motion turn'd the spindle round,
Or with her pencil drew the neat design,
Pallas her mistress shone in every line.
This the proud maid with scornful air denies,
And ev'n the Goddess at her work defies;
Disowns her heav'nly mistress ev'ry hour,
Nor asks her aid, nor deprecates her pow'r.
Let us, she cries, but to a tryal come,
And, if she conquers, let her fix my doom.
The Goddess then a beldame's form put on,
With silver hairs her hoary temples shone;
Prop'd by a staff, she hobbles in her walk,
And tott'ring thus begins her old wives' talk.
Young maid attend, nor stubbornly despise
The admonitions of the old, and wise;
For age, tho' scorn'd, a ripe experience bears,
That golden fruit, unknown to blooming years:
Still may remotest fame your labours crown,
And mortals your superior genius own;
But to the Goddess yield, and humbly meek

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12

WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quell’d,
Himself become the mark of public spite,
His honor question’d for the promis’d fight;
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress’d, 5
The more his fury boil’d within his breast:
He rous’d his vigor for the last debate,
And rais’d his haughty soul to meet his fate.
As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,
He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; 10
But, if the pointed jav’lin pierce his side,
The lordly beast returns with double pride:
He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain;
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane:
So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, 15
Thro’ his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.
Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
At length approach’d the king, and thus began:
“No more excuses or delays: I stand
In arms prepar’d to combat, hand to hand, 20
This base deserter of his native land.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
The same conditions which himself did make.
Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
And to my single virtue trust the war. 25
The Latians unconcern’d shall see the fight;
This arm unaided shall assert your right:
Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
To him the crown and beauteous bride remain.”
To whom the king sedately thus replied: 30
“Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried,
The more becomes it us, with due respect,
To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
Or cities which your arms have made your own: 35
My towns and treasures are at your command,
And stor’d with blooming beauties is my land;
Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,
Unmarried, fair, of noble families.
Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 40
Things which perhaps may grate a lover’s ear,
But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
No prince Italian born should heir my throne: 45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill’d,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal’d.
Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
Brib’d by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg’d by my wife, who would not be denied, 50

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Marilyn

I am dark and lovely,
And i live under a sweet mango tree with my muse;
I am bold and beautiful,
So come and taste some of the fruits of my love;
Like a walk through the markets of Thailand.

I am sweet and attractive,
Living closer to you with the muse of my love;
I am dark and lovely,
So come to me like a walk through the markets of Thailand!
For the sun shines on me under this mango tree.

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Satire #2

Well, thank you, mr. jitters.
Thank you, mister jitters.
The official soviet newspaper said, the temple members have protested the mindless arms waste from the filthy war in vietnam. and were persecuted and finally forced to seek refuge in another country. wow. sounds like a ballad to me, oh man.
Bankok, thailand, theyve launched an air-sea search for a fishing boat carrying some foreign ietnamese refugees, the boat was towed back out to sea for a ride in thailand. sources said that it was because of a breakdown in communicatin. oh lord, the boat was towed into thai waters by a german freighter and the thai navy are unaware that the refugees have been guaranteed a resettlement and worst the only took the boat out to sea after providing all passengers with provision.
Hey, thats deep man.
The chinese newspapers have made the first reference to the countrys curtain wall posted campaign according to vice premiar deng xiaoping. and said that the countrys stable and its leaders are confident and planning modernisation and programs., oh this should get me in the village bar.
Deng gave blessing to the campaig but he commented not all the opinionsof the masses are carefully thought out nor can we demand that they all be correct. adding this is nothing terrible. it bad enough, but its not terrible.
From a prison, richard nixon, on his second trip outside the united states, sent his fesignation with a smiling hand shake politician again. greedy crowds outside his hotel, and trying a little french.
They sure as hell didnt try it on pam nixon., mr. nixon is in paris and inside this suite to be interviewed on french television. they thought of going on to deliver a speech in england, hell participate in the french collegue program and said he will answer questions in welsh.
Thats pretty big mr. m. ahhh, Im so cynical, I could just keep on doing this forever because, you know, they aint gonna be lookin for my golden bunnions in a hundred years from now. theyre gonna be sellin my socks like judy garland. and I hope that they get a good price. I mean, with the inflation and the price of rice. man, I shouldnt worry, I own all my songs and I wrote them myself too.
I got 24 children, 14 wives, 3 mistresses, 59 accountants, 105 lawyers, 2000.000 fans, a posted system that never fails to land me in jail. and look through my mail. perhaps have a garage sale. and you know, go save the whale, and a..you know, get a boat and go for a sail, and, and, oh, oh, oh, oh, how do you get out of this hell? stuck inside of a lexicon with the roger thesaurus blues again.
Sometimes I wish I was just george harrison, you know all the answers, oh my god, oh my god.

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