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I admit to wasting my life messing around with fast cars and motorcycles.

quote by Brock Yates
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cars Are Cars

Words & music by paul simon 1983
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Similarly made. similarly sold
In a motorcade. abandoned when theyre old
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Engine in the front. jack in the back
Wheels take the brunt. pinion and a rack
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
But people are strangers
They change with the curve
From time zone to time zone
As we can observe
They shut down their borders
And think theyre immune
They stand on their differences
And shoot at the moon
But cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Drive em on the left. drive em on the right
Susceptible to theft in the middle of the night
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
I once had a car
That was more like a home
I lived in it, loved in it
Polished its chrome
If some of my homes
Had been more like my car
I probably wouldnt have
Travelled this far
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world

song performed by Paul Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Over The Top

Music :matthias jabs
Lyrics:matthias jabs
Down in the city
Where the girls look pretty
Some just like a miracle
Theyre so attractive
So hyperactive
But theyre cool and they talk cynical
Give me a chance
I dont want romance
Dont be so serious (oh nooo)
Lets get some action
Some real satisfaction
Youre so mysteroius
I cant wait any longer
Tonights the night
I want you to show me baby
Tonights the night
Now is the time, the time to go over the top
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around (over the top)
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around
Move around, around, around
Down in the city
Where the girls are pretty
Some just like a miracle
Oooh, Im on the road
Get out of control
Im losing my mind
Its time to get wild
Tonights the night
I want you to show me baby
Tonights the night
Now is the time, the time to go over the top
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around (over the top)
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around (over the top)
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around (over the top)
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around
Move around, around, around
Tonights the night
I want you to show me baby
Tonights the night
Now is the time, the time to go over the top
Youre running me down
And dont you ever stop messing around (over the top)

[...] Read more

song performed by Scorpions
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Admit This

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

Opened minds,
Feel free to be...
Opened minds,
With a truth that's seen.

Opened minds,
Feel free to be...
Opened minds,
With a truth that's seen.

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

You don't have to hide behind,
All your lies.
Nor minimize with alibis.

Why can't you just admit this?
We can.

All you need to do is internalize.
And don't compromise with another disguise.

Why can't you just admit this?
We can.

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.
Since we all admit this...
You can!

If it is admitted.
And they did admit it.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wasting Time

in between dim hours
in between dull days
i'm out counting flowers
i'm still chasing faith
mistake me for a pilot
mistake me for a face you know
consider this old conscience
let no trouble come my way
wasting time, you'd understand
wasting time
wasting time, we'll make our plans
wasting time
it's you alone i wish to free
on you alone i'll focus
it's not the change i wish to believe
this coming of the locusts
skipping like a skimming stone
skimming the bad chapters
swimming thru your tides alone
swimming on your laughter, we're after
wasting time, you'd understand
wasting time
wasting time, let's take the chance
wasting time
you and i, we understand
time is not for making
but just because we don't have a clue
doesn't mean we're faking, we're wasting
wasting time, you'd understand
wasting time
wasting time, we'll make our plans
wasting time

song performed by Zwan
Added by Lucian Velea
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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

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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S[t]alking Mirror Sestina - CV in hand

CV in hand through contest I would stalk,
ILLEgitimate undertaking I admit,
Lightly through the rhyme scheme let me walk,
I subtle sense within sestina fit,
Stalking pseudo is not hard to talk,
Away for those with golden goblet lit

CV of charming nymph will o’ wisp lit
ILLEgible to most seems simple stalk,
Lightly pen traces, hears the table talk,
I see the comments – praises all admit,
Stalking may be fun - together fit,
Away from prying eyes will life-lines walk.

CV few APe, divine, her verse I’d walk
ILLEgal act for gaol or goal bright lit?
Lightly linking her name to my fit
I root acrostic in sestina stalk,
Stalking talking balking not – admit,
Away with critics and their jealous talk.

CV masks beauty more than my trite talk.
ILLEcebrous attractive and alluring walk,
Lightly stroking peerless miss admit,
I find no other muse as charming lit,
Stalk king if she queen Stork to nest add stalk
A way I’d find to offer homage fit.

CV seems perfect. Could another fit?
ILLEcebrum around swan neck would talk
Lightly of love I bear for stem and stalk,
I cannot stem, so, in pursuit I walk,
Stalking close by inspiration lit,
Away she’ll never slip all must admit.

CV in hand my errors I’ll admit
ILLEist I’m never, should hat fit,
Lightly I’d wear it, with her smile love-lit,
I vaunt her emblem, on none else would talk,
Stalking kitten purring I, cat, walk,
Away from idols past – she bloom, I stalk!

All here admit one Muse should stalk,
a perfect fit, eyes lovely lit,
Her praise I talk, with trophy walk.

.............................

Her praise I talk, with trophy walk,
a perfect fit, eyes lovely lit,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Skull Ring

(feat. The Stooges)
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
The touch of a hand in the wasteland
you're walking asleep and dreaming cheap
A bird's wing don't beat for free
You're freezing cold and your family
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
Fingers on fire to do what's bad
Ring on the finger is a skull man
Strong as a bar of steel
Weakness is that you can't feel
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things
My life is dirtied, my mind is loaded
I'm feeling and breathing and fighting
To see
People get ready now
Baby come on give your heart to me
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Money
Skull rings
Fast cars
Hot chicks
Fancy things

song performed by Iggy Pop
Added by Lucian Velea
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Making Cars

They've bailed the automakers out...
But there's no one about,
To drive.

They've listened to them rant and shout...
But there's no one about,
To drive.
Or
To keep them alive.

And why...
Why now is gas so cheap?
When people can't afford it.
And why...
Why are they losing sleep?
When they're making cars that people can't keep!

They've bailed the automakers out...
But there's no one about,
To drive.

They've listened to them rant and shout...
But there's no one about,
To drive.
Or
To keep them alive.

And why...
Why now is gas so cheap?
When people can't afford it.
And why...
Why are they losing sleep?
When they're making cars that people can't keep!

Oh no!
They're making cars that people can't keep!
Oh?
They're making cars that people can't keep!
Oh no!
They're making cars for people....
But why...
Why now is gas so cheap?
When people can't afford it.
And why...
Why are they losing sleep?
When they're making cars that people can't keep!

Oh no!
They're making cars that people can't keep!
Oh?

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fast Life

* this cd is censored, no uncensored version available
Yeah
Word
No doubt
Yo... yo...
Verse one: ghostface
Wally champ so amazin, the suede shoelacin
Up in the sheraton, just got hit for five years probation
I got a dental appointment at two oclock there go my gold ring
Much later catch a flick or go hoeing
Yo theres somethin heavy on my mind from last nights crime
Spoonface shot gel in the back with kivs nine
It was two men, tighter than a hiker with tims
Like blood brothers, problem was they lust each other woman
For instance, gel seen spoon in demoore
He wet his whiz(tle), got his seed an headin towards the door
They came out of eye, face to face, they embraced
Gel blew a kiss and looked spoon girl in the face
Her face lit up, and grinned with a smile like what?
That sneaky f--k, same bitch that got my man hit up
Out in brownsville, where the thug life live to kill
Where bodies is worth two for five cause its real
Fast life...
Fast life, cause theres nowhere I can go
Fast life, thats the only thing I know
Fast life, cause theres nowhere I can go
Fast life, thats the only life I know
Verse two: andre rison
Yo my man got more power than gunpowder with ammunition
Blowin up the fireworks and the n----z ambitions
On the come up, she gettin done up, behind closed doors
Doin freaky s--t, on elevator floors
I want her, like sonny wanted cher
She was his diamond piece, sex wasnt for lease
Rest in peace, somebody came up deceased
R.i.p. on that grave of the slave of infatuated ways
God couldnt save
F-a-k-e, l-o-v-e
Fake love you see
Never lasting through eternity
Living life in the fast lane
The fast life... its the fast life
Fast life
Fast life, cause theres nowhere I can go
Fast life, thats the only thing I know
Fast life, cause theres nowhere I can go
Fast life, thats the only life I know
Fast life, cause theres nowhere I can go
Fast life, thats the only thing I know
Fast life, cause theres nowhere I can go

[...] Read more

song performed by Ghostface Killah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fast Life (feat. Andre Rison)

(feat. Andre Rison)
Yeah
Word
No doubt
Yo... yo...
[Verse One: Ghostface]
Wally champ so amazin, the suede shoelacin
up in the Sheraton, just got hit for five years probation
I got a dental appointment at two o'clock there go my gold ring
Much later catch a flick or go hoeing
Yo there's somethin heavy on my mind from last night's crime
Spoonface shot Gel in the back with Kiv's nine
It was two men, tighter than a hiker with Tims
Like blood brothers, problem was they lust each other woman
For instance, Gel seen Spoon in DeMoore
He wet his whiz(tle), got his seed an headin towards the door
They came out of eye, face to face, they embraced
Gel blew a kiss and looked Spoon girl in the face
Her face lit up, and grinned with a smile like what?
That sneaky f--k, same bitch that got my man hit up
Out in Brownsville, where the thug life live to kill
Where bodies is worth two for five cause it's real
Fast life...
Fast life, cause there's nowhere I can go
Fast life, that's the only thing I know
Fast life, cause there's nowhere I can go
Fast Life, that's the only life I know
[Verse Two: Andre Rison]
Yo my man got more power than gunpowder with ammunition
Blowin up the fireworks and the n----z ambitions
On the come up, she gettin done up, behind closed doors
Doin freaky s--t, on elevator floors
I want her, like Sonny wanted Cher
She was his diamond piece, sex wasn't for lease
Rest in peace, somebody came up deceased
R.I.P. on that grave of the slave of infatuated ways
God couldn't save
F-A-K-E, L-O-V-E
Fake love you see
Never lasting through eternity
Living life in the fast lane
The fast life... it's the fast life
Fast life
Fast life, cause there's nowhere I can go
Fast life, that's the only thing I know
Fast life, cause there's nowhere I can go
Fast Life, that's the only life I know
Fast life, cause there's nowhere I can go
Fast life, that's the only thing I know
Fast life, cause there's nowhere I can go

[...] Read more

song performed by Ghostface Killah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Restless Heart

(coverdale/vandenberg)
Restless heart, restless mind,
Im tired of wasting,
My precious time.
There are times in my life,
I dont know witch way to turn,
When everything I touch
I get my fingers burned...
Dreams to ashes, ashes to dust,
When all that glitters
Is dull with rust...
Restless heart, restless mind,
Im tired of wasting,
My precious time...
Im torn and tattered,
Shattered and worn,
Ive had enough
Trying to live my life
In the eye of the storm...
Every heartache
Leaves a scar on my face,
Somebody reach out
Or throw me a line,
Get me out of this place...
Restless heart, restless mind,
Im tired of wasting, wasting,
My precious time...
Oh, so tired.
Restless heart, restless mind,
Im tired of wasting,
My precious time...
Restless heart, restless mind,
Im tired of wasting, wasting,
All of my precious time...
Restless heart, restless mind,
So Im tired of wasting, wasting,
All of my precious time, time, time
Restless heart...

song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Bad Side Of The Moon

(bernie taupin/elton john)
Published by songs of polygram international - bmi
Seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
It seems as though Ive lived my life on the bad side of the moon
To stir your dregs, and sittin still, without a rustic spoon
Now come on people, live with me, where the light has never shone
And the harlots flock like hummingbirds, speakin in a foreign tongue
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
There aint no need for watchdogs here, to justify our ways
We lived our lives in manacles, the main cause of our stay
And exiled here from other worlds, my sentence comes to soon
Why should I be made to pay on the bad side of the moon
Im a light world away, from the people who make me stay
Sittin on the bad side of the moon
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life
This is my life, this is my life, this is my life, my life

song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Late Last Night

Saw you in the restaurant
Late last night
You were looking in her eyes
Holding her hand tight
Said that you were working late
Well I guess that's true
You were working on somebody new
Ah
So you were in a restaurant with someone else
Why you were busy fooling me
Well I guess I fooled myself
But I won't be the fool again
And I tell you now
I won't stay around
While you play around
So
So baby pack your lies and walk right out this door
No no
I don't want your tight excuses anymore
No no
I don't wanna hear the same old lies (by the same old price)
Cause I'm through...wasting my time on loving you
Did you give your to her late last night
Did you say those things you said
When we turned out the light
When she went to touch your hand
Did you hide the ring? Haha
Did you forget to tell her about me?
Yes you did
I saw you in the restaurant
And get in her car
I don't know where you went
But this time you went to far
Stumbling in the door at four in the morning
Just won't do
I won't stay around no
While you play around with my heart
So baby pack your lies and walk right out this door
Oh No no no no
I don't want your tight excuses anymore
No no
I don't wanna hear the same old lies (by the same old price)
(Cause I'm through) I'm so through baby, wasting my time on loving you
Didn't I give you the best of my love? (of my love)
Worse or in bad
didn't I care enough (I care enough oh)
How could you go and just hurt me that way (hurt me that way)
Well I'm not gonna take it no more
Nononono
(So baby pack your lies and walk right out this door)

[...] Read more

song performed by Anastacia
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Santa-Fe Trail (A Humoresque)

I asked the old Negro, "What is that bird that sings so well?" He answered: "That is the Rachel-Jane." "Hasn't it another name, lark, or thrush, or the like?" "No. Jus' Rachel-Jane."

I. IN WHICH A RACING AUTO COMES FROM THE EAST

This is the order of the music of the morning: —
First, from the far East comes but a crooning.
The crooning turns to a sunrise singing.
Hark to the calm -horn, balm -horn, psalm -horn.
Hark to the faint -horn, quaint -horn, saint -horn. . . .

Hark to the pace -horn, chase -horn, race -horn.
And the holy veil of the dawn has gone.
Swiftly the brazen ear comes on.
It burns in the East as the sunrise burns.
I see great flashes where the far trail turns.

Its eyes are lamps like the eyes of dragons.
It drinks gasoline from big red flagons.
Butting through the delicate mists of the morning,
It comes like lightning, goes past roaring.
It will hail all the wind-mills, taunting, ringing,
Dodge the cyclones,
Count the milestones,
On through the ranges the prairie-dog tills—
Scooting past the cattle on the thousand hills. . . .
Ho for the tear-horn, scare-horn, dare-horn,
Ho for the gay -horn, bark -horn, bay -horn.
Ho for Kansas, land that restores us
When houses choke us, and great books bore us!
Sunrise Kansas, harvester's Kansas,
A million men have found you before us.

II. IN WHICH MANY AUTOS PASS WESTWARD

I want live things in their pride to remain.
I will not kill one grasshopper vain
Though he eats a hole in my shirt like a door.
I let him out, give him one chance more.
Perhaps, while he gnaws my hat in his whim,
Grasshopper lyrics occur to him.

I am a tramp by the long trail's border,
Given to squalor, rags and disorder.
I nap and amble and yawn and look,
Write fool-thoughts in my grubby book,
Recite to the children, explore at my ease,
Work when I work, beg when I please,
Give crank-drawings, that make folks stare

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poem by Vachel Lindsay
Added by Poetry Lover
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Light Is Faster Than Sound

Sound ...
Light is faster than sound
My head to the ground
Mind going round
Faster than sound.
What goes up must come down
World goes around
Sun shines at ground
Faster than sound.
Yeah yeah, faster than sound, yeah
Faster than sound, whoa yeah
Faster than sound, ah ah
'cause life is faster than sound.
Faster than sound.
It's your face yes it is,
It's your face yes it is,
I see your face, yeah
I see your face, yeah
I see your face, yeah faster than sound, yeah
I see your face, yeah faster than sound, alright c'mon c'mon
Oh yeah faster than sound, yeah
Oh oh faster than sound, ah ha
I see your face faster than sound, yeah
I see your face faster than sound, yeah
Oh yeah faster than sound
Oh yeah faster than sound
Oh yeah faster than sound, hey
Faster than sound.
Light is faster than sound
My head to the ground
Mind going round
Faster than sound.
What goes up must come down
World goes around
Sun shines around
Faster than sound.
Whoa!
Faster than sound, yeah
Faster than sound
Alright, alright, alright
Faster than sound
Yeah,
Faster than sound
Faster than sound
Faster than sound, yeah yeah!
Faster than sound, yeah yeah!
Faster than sound!
It's so fast, yes it is
It's so fast, yes it is
Hey, hey

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song performed by Janis Joplin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fast Train

Transcribed from a live performance on february 26, 2000 at the barbican in york, england. the first performance of this new song.
When you been on a fast train
And its goin off the rails
And you cant come back together again
You just start breakin down
In the pourin rain
Cause you been on a fast train
When your love has gone away
Dont it make you feel so sad
And you know Im returnin
Way into the land
And you start breakin down
And go into the pain
Cause you been on the fast train
You had to go on the lam
Cross into no mans land
Aint nobody here on your wavelength
And nobody gonna give you a helpin hand
You just start breakin down
And just go into the sun
When you hear that fast train
And you keep movin along
To the sound of the wheels
Deep inside your heart you really know
You know just how it feels
And you start breakin down
And the deserts reign on the fast train
Youre way over the line
This time youre out of your mind
This time youre out of your depth
And to the window you crack open
Oh but theres nowhere to go
Theres only sleet and theres snow
Keep on movin on a fast train
You hear theyre goin over the line
Oh standin on the edge of the hill
Oh nobody on their wavelength
Nobody to give you a helping hand
And you start breakin down
When you hear the sound
Keep on movin on a fast train
Im goin nowhere on a fast train
Goin nowhere
Goin nowhere on a fast train
Goin nowhere on a fast train
Fast train
Going nowhere
Goin nowhere on a fast train
To the wasteland
To the wasteland

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song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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