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Is there anyone I wouldn't take as a client? Well, I'd never represent a banker.

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Lewis Carroll

The Hunting of the Snark: An Agony in Eight Fits

Fit the First.
THE LANDING

"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide

By a finger entwined in his hair.
"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:

What I tell you three times is true."
The crew was complete: it included a Boots—
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods—
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes—

And a Broker, to value their goods.
A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than his share—
But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,

Had the whole of their cash in his care.
There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,

Though none of the sailors knew how.
There was one who was famed for the number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,

And the clothes he had bought for the trip.
He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pairs of boots—but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.

He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
To "What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
But especially "Thing-um-a-jig!"

While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
He had different names from these:

[...] Read more

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Lewis Carroll

The Hunting of the Snark

Fit the First
THE LANDING

'Just the place for a Snark!' the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

'Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
What i tell you three times is true.'

The crew was complete: it included a Boots--
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods--
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--
And a Broker, to value their goods.

A Billiard-maker, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than his share--
But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
Had the whole of their cash in his care.

There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
Though none of the sailors knew how.

There was one who was famed for the number of things
He forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
And the clothes he had bought for the trip.

He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pairs of boots--but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.

He would answer to 'Hi!' or to any loud cry,
Such as 'Fry me!' or 'Fritter my wig!'
To 'What-you-may-call-um!' or 'What-was-his-name!'
But especially 'Thing-um-a-jig!'

While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
He had different names from these:

[...] Read more

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If He Were Alive Today, Mayhap, Mr. Morgan Would Sit on the Midget's Lap

"Beep-beep.
BANKERS TRUST AUTOMOBILE LOAN
You'll find a banker at Bankers Trust"
Advertisement in N.Y. Times

When comes my second childhood,
As to all men it must,
I want to be a banker
Like the banker at Bankers Trust.
I wouldn't ask to be president
Or even assistant veep,
I'd only ask for a kiddie car
And permission to go beep-beep.

The banker at Chase Manhattan,
He bids a polite Good-day;
The banker at Immigrant Savings
Cries Scusi! and Olé!
But I'd be a sleek Ferrari
Or perhaps a joggly jeep,
And scooting around at Bankers Trust,
Beep-beep, I'd go, beep-beep.

The trolley car used to say clang-clang
And the choo-choo said toot-toot,
But the beep of the banker at Bankers Trust
Is every bit as cute.
Miaow, says the cuddly kitten,
Baa, says the woolly sheep,
Oink, says the piggy-wiggy,
And the banker says beep-beep.

So I want to play at Bankers Trust
Like a hippety-hoppety bunny,
And best of all, oh best of all,
With really truly money.
Now grown-ups dear, it's nightie-night
Until my dream comes true,
And I bid you a happy boop-a-doop
And a big beep-beep adieu.

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Mr. Banker

(ronnie vanzant -- gary rossington)
Mister banker
Mister please, how much does money mean
Won't you reconsider mister
Won't you do this thing for me
Ain't got no house
Ain't got no car
All i got, lord, is my guitar
But you can have that mister banker
Won't you bury my papa for me
Oh mister banker please
Listen to how that sound
I would not be here on my knees
But hey mister banker
It means so much to me
Oh won't you reconsider mister
Won't you do this thing for me
I told you mister
I ain't got no house
Ain't got no car
I got me a 1950 les paul guitar
Won't you take it mister banker
Won't you bury my papa for me
Oh mister banker please

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Images Presented

The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.

Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!

Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!

Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.

Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.

Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.

Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!

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Hippodromania; Or, Whiffs From The Pipe

Part I
Visions in the Smoke
Rest, and be thankful! On the verge
Of the tall cliff rugged and grey,
But whose granite base the breakers surge,
And shiver their frothy spray,
Outstretched, I gaze on the eddying wreath
That gathers and flits away,
With the surf beneath, and between my teeth
The stem of the 'ancient clay'.

With the anodyne cloud on my listless eyes,
With its spell on my dreamy brain,
As I watch the circling vapours rise
From the brown bowl up to the sullen skies,
My vision becomes more plain,
Till a dim kaleidoscope succeeds
Through the smoke-rack drifting and veering,
Like ghostly riders on phantom steeds
To a shadowy goal careering.

In their own generation the wise may sneer,
They hold our sports in derision;
Perchance to sophist, or sage, or seer,
Were allotted a graver vision.
Yet if man, of all the Creator plann'd,
His noblest work is reckoned,
Of the works of His hand, by sea or by land,
The horse may at least rank second.

Did they quail, those steeds of the squadrons light,
Did they flinch from the battle's roar,
When they burst on the guns of the Muscovite,
By the echoing Black Sea shore?
On! on! to the cannon's mouth they stride,
With never a swerve nor a shy,
Oh! the minutes of yonder maddening ride,
Long years of pleasure outvie!

No slave, but a comrade staunch, in this,
Is the horse, for he takes his share,
Not in peril alone, but in feverish bliss,
And in longing to do and dare.
Where bullets whistle, and round shot whiz,
Hoofs trample, and blades flash bare,
God send me an ending as fair as his
Who died in his stirrups there!

The wind has slumbered throughout the day,
Now a fitful gust springs over the bay,

[...] Read more

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Virginia

Fragments of a Lay Sung in the Forum on the Day Whereon Lucius Sextius Sextinus Lateranus and Caius Licinius Calvus Stolo Were Elected Tribunes of the Commons the Fifth Time, in the Year of the City CCCLXXXII.


Ye good men of the Commons, with loving hearts and true,
Who stand by the bold Tribunes that still have stood by you,
Come, make a circle round me, and mark my tale with care,
A tale of what Rome once hath borne, of what Rome yet may bear.
This is no Grecian fable, of fountains running wine,
Of maids with snaky tresses, or sailors turned to swine.
Here, in this very Forum, under the noonday sun,
In sight of all the people, the bloody deed was done.
Old men still creep among us who saw that fearful day,
Just seventy years and seven ago, when the wicked Ten bare sway.

Of all the wicked Ten still the names are held accursed,
And of all the wicked Ten Appius Claudius was the worst.
He stalked along the Forum like King Tarquin in his pride:
Twelve axes waited on him, six marching on a side;
The townsmen shrank to right and left, and eyed askance with fear
His lowering brow, his curling mouth which always seemed to sneer;
That brow of hate, that mouth of scorn, marks all the kindred still;
For never was there Claudius yet but wished the Commons ill;
Nor lacks he fit attendance; for close behind his heels,
With outstretched chin and crouching pace, the client Marcus steals,
His loins girt up to run with speed, be the errand what it may,
And the smile flickering on his cheek, for aught his lord may say.
Such varlets pimp and jest for hire among the lying Greeks:
Such varlets still are paid to hoot when brave Licinius speaks.
Where'er ye shed the honey, the buzzing flies will crowd;
Where'er ye fling the carrion, the raven's croak is loud;
Where'er down Tiber garbage floats, the greedy pike ye see;
And wheresoe'er such lord is found, such client still will be.

Just then, as through one cloudless chink in a black stormy sky
Shines out the dewy morning-star, a fair young girl came by.
With her small tablets in her hand, and her satchel on her arm,
Home she went bounding from the school, nor dreamed of shame or harm;
And past those dreaded axes she innocently ran,
With bright frank brow that had not learned to blush at gaze of man;
And up the Sacred Street she turned, and, as she danced along,
She warbled gayly to herself lines of the good old song,
How for a sport the princes came spurring from the camp,
And found Lucrece, combing the fleece, under the midnight lamp.
The maiden sang as sings the lark, when up he darts his flight,
From his nest in the green April corn, to meet the morning light;
And Appius heard her sweet young voice, and saw her sweet young face,
And loved her with the accursed love of his accursed race,
And all along the Forum, and up the Sacred Street,
His vulture eye pursued the trip of those small glancing feet.

[...] Read more

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Trial by Jury

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE LEARNED JUDGE
THE PLAINTIFF
THE DEFENDANT
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF
USHER
FOREMAN OF THE JURY
ASSOCIATE
FIRST BRIDESMAID


SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.

CHORUS

Hark, the hour of ten is sounding:
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,
Hall of Justice, crowds surrounding,
Breathing hope and fear--
For to-day in this arena,
Summoned by a stern subpoena,
Edwin, sued by Angelina,
Shortly will appear.

Enter Usher

SOLO - USHER

Now, Jurymen, hear my advice--
All kinds of vulgar prejudice
I pray you set aside:
With stern, judicial frame of mind
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.

CHORUS

From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.

[During Chorus, Usher sings fortissimo, "Silence in Court!"]

USHER Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case:
Observe the features of her face--
The broken-hearted bride.
Condole with her distress of mind:
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!

[...] Read more

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Would You Believe It?

One year ago I wished that I
A banker great might be
With a hundred million dollars
And financial majesty;

A mighty Wall Street banker
With a whopping lot of power
And an income of somewhere around
A thousand plunks per hour;

A solid Wall Street banker
With securities in sacks
And with clever men to show me
How to pay no income tax;

A wealthy Wall Street banker
Who raked in cash like hay;
I wished that just a year ago—
And I wish the same today.

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Lewis Carroll

Fit the Seventh ( Hunting of the Snark )

The Banker's Fate

They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
It was matter for general remark,
Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
In his zeal to discover the Snark.

But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
For he knew it was useless to fly.

He offered large discount--he offered a cheque
(Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
And grabbed at the Banker again.

Without rest or pause--while those frumious jaws
Went savagely snapping around--
He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
Till fainting he fell to the ground.

The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
And solemnly tolled on his bell.

He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
The least likeness to what he had been:
While so great was the fright that his waistcoat turned white--
A wonderful thing to be seen!

To the horror of all who were present that day,
He uprose in full evening dress,
And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say
What his tongue could no longer express.

Down he sank in a chair--ran his hands through his hair--
And chanted in mimsiest tones
Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
While he rattled a couple of bones.

"Leave him here to his fate--it is getting so late!"
The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
"We have lost half a day. Any further delay,
And we sha'n't catch a Snark before night!"

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Part IV: Banker’s Dream

Of chases and courses dogs dream, so do horses—
Last night I was dozing and dreaming,
The crowd and the bustle were there, and the rustle
Of the silk in the autumn sky gleaming.

The stand throng'd with faces, the broadcloth and laces,
The booths, and the tents, and the cars,
The bookmakers' jargon, for odds making bargain,
The nasty stale smell of cigars.

We formed into line, 'neath the merry sunshine,
Near the logs at the end of the railing ;
'Are you ready, boys ? Go !' cried the starter, and low
Sank the flag, and away we went sailing.

In the van of the battle we heard the stones rattle,
Some slogging was done, but no slaughter,
A shout from the stand, and the whole of our band
Skimm'd merrily over the water.

Two fences we clear'd, and the roadway we near'd,
When three of our troop came to troublen ;
Like a bird on the wing, or a stone from a sling,
Flew Cadger, first over the double.

And Western was there, head and tail in the air,
And Pondon was there, too—what noodle
Could so name a horse ? I should feel some remorse
If I gave such a name to a poodle.

In and out of the lane, to the racecourse again,
Craig's pony was first, I was third,
And Ingleside lit in my tracks, with the bit
In his teeth, and came up 'like a bird.'

In the van of the battle we heard the rails rattle,
Says he, 'Though I don't care for shunning
My share of the raps, I shall look out for gaps,
When the light weight's away with the running.'

At the fence just ahead the outsider still led,
The chestnut play'd follow my leader ;
Oh ! the devil a gap, he went into it slap,
And he and his jock took a header.

Says Ingleside, 'Mate, should the pony go straight,
You've no time to stop or turn restive ;'
Says I, 'Who means to stop ? I shall go till I drop ;'
Says he, 'Go it, old cuss, gay and festive.'

[...] Read more

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Candied Kisses

She wants it sugar coated.
To clip and paste...
Upon her fragile reality.

He wants to be her superman.
Although he flies into brick walls.
And he can't quite come to his feet to stand.
He is human afterall.
Stumbling from a crawl.
To get up again...
Proving he has the balls to win.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

She wants it sugar coated.
To clip and paste...
Upon her fragile reality.

He wants to be her superman.
Although he flies into brick walls.
And he can't quite come to his feet to stand.
He is human afterall.
Stumbling from a crawl.
To get up again...
Proving he has the balls to win.
Time and again to defend,
If he doesn't.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

They represent,
Roleplays
That have come to an end.
And they resent delays,
To their wishes.

[...] Read more

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I have learned that you can't have good advertising without a good client, that you can't keep a good client without good advertising, and no client will ever buy better advertising than he understands or has an appetite for.

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Game Court

Funkafied version of the peoples court tv show in the background
Mac minista
Mac minista in defense of the honorable snoop dogg
The anti player has filed and submitted an alpha davit
In the game court with trumped up charges against
My client snoop dogg tha doggfather for 227 counts
Of flexing his gs popping his ps
Dotting his is and crossing his ts
The anti player has filed and submitted an alpha davit
In the game court with trumped up charges against
My client snoop dogg tha doggfather for 357 counts
Of verbal and reckless endangerment
From the million dollar mouthpiece
And leaving these super sap suckers
Discombobulated and confused and shook up like a pair of dice
The anti player has filed and submitted an alpha davit
In the game court charging my client snoop dogg
Tha doggfather for distributing and manufacturing game
Crossing state and county lines with the intent to pimp the system
Now if you wanna judge tha doggfather
Bring him before 12 gs and open up his files
And you will see that ever since snoopy was a pup
His tail was straight up ready to shake rattle and roll
And charge from a hoe to a henchman about his pension
So all you jerks with them 11 words
Comin out of your 2 mouth
About a multi million dollar crip
Whos got the mind of a bidness man the heart of a tyrant
And the tongue of a mack I said
Hes a five star guerilla crip with bars and stars
While you suckers is lookin for stripes
His game is as sharp as a mosquitos needle
And with this in mind Im gonna ask the game court
To grant a motion of 995 grounds of dismissal

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Game Court (skit) (feat. Mac Minista)

{*funkafied version of "The People's Court" TV show in the background*}
[Mac Minista]
Mac Minista in defense of the honorable Snoop Dogg
The anti-player has filed and submitted an "alpha"-davit
in the Game Court. With trumped up charges against
my client Snoop Dogg, Tha Doggfather - for 227 counts
of flexing his G's, popping his P's
dotting his I's and crossing his T's.
The anti-player has filed and submitted an "alpha"-davit
in the Game Court. With trumped up charges against
my client Snoop Dogg, Tha Doggfather - for 357 counts
of verbal and reckless endangerment
from the million dollar mouthpiece;
and leaving these super-sap suckers,
discombobulated and confused and shook up, like a pair of dice.
The anti-player, has filed and submitted an "alpha"-davit
in the Game Court. Charging my client Snoop Dogg,
Tha Doggfather - for distributing and manufacturing game.
Crossing state and county lines, with the intent to pimp the system.
Now if you wanna judge Tha Doggfather,
bring him before 12 G's and open up his files
and you will see, that ever since Snoopy was a pup
his tail was straight up - ready to shake rattle and roll
and charge from a hoe to a henchman about his pension.
So all you jerks with them $11 words
comin out of your $2 mouth
about a multi-million dollar Crip
who's got the mind of a bid'ness man, the heart of a tyrant,
and the tongue of a mack - I said,
he's a five-star guerilla Crip, with bars and stars
while you suckers is lookin for stripes.
His game is as sharp as a mosquito's needle;
and with this in mind, I'm gonna ask the Game Court
to grant a motion, of 995 - grounds, of dismissal.

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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

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Indian Is The Client's Race

1
I have a client (in massage)
Pana (indian) is his race
Studied ''daw'' in London
and talk with shaking face

His armpit like a camel
smell ''no washing'' feet

smell no washing feet
smell no washing feet

11
We have a client
Pana is their race
Having business now in Dubai
despite dirhamscrisis

they're going to establish
Like Philippine 5 - 6

Like Philippine 5-6
Like Philippine 5 - 6

111
We have a client
Spring from Pana race
Having same -same faces
From Mumbai Populace

They book daily at FEET FIRST
But mostly no good tips

Mostly no good tips
mostly no good tips

Xi Tao (Chinese therapist) don't reflex
Kai Gue refused their feet

break down

repeat all stanzas

shukran

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Penny Lane

(LennonMcCartney)
In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello
On the corner is a banker with a motorcar
The little children laugh at him behind his back
And the banker never wears a mack
In the pouring rain, very strange
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the queen
He likes to keep his fire engine clean
It's a clean machine
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer, meanwhile back
Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway
In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain, very strange
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
Penny Lane

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Hail All Masters Of Small Spinning Ball

In England people believe; a football player
can earn 100 000 pound a week;
apparently that is okay he is; obviously worth
100 000 pound such skill such skill;
obviously this is what such ball; skill is worth?

But a nurse serving the sick
the ill the dying is not worth
more than 30 000 pound a year
more than 30 000 pound a year
angel nurse cannot be worth?

National scandal oh dear King Lear
a banker cannot be worth
that massive massive bonus
not while nation suffers recession fear?

What skill control of financial markets
employment opportunities health care
education but but only a mere banker
what is a banker compared to a football player?

Hail Hail all masters of a small spinning ball
worth a 100 000 pound a week such skill such skill.


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Expecting More From Ratty

We still represent ... represent.
I cant change I just wanna do it.
On the microphone just get into it.
Come on tonite from left to right.
Everybody now get ready for the night.
Tough like steel and dangerous, we gonna rock the house, its still like this.
No time to chill so keep on moving, get into the place, mc is grooving.
Tough like steel and dangerous, we gonna rock the house, its still like this.
No time to chill so keep on moving, get into the place, mc is grooving.
Expecting more from ratty.
Expecting more from ratty.
Expecting more from ratty.
Expecting more.
As a matter of fact in 92.
I cant explain. its up to you.
If you know what I mean its the freaky scene.
And things have changed a lot in between.
So come on tonite and let them go.
For those about who left the show.
I recommend to join the case.
The last call to rock the place.
Expecting more from ratty.
Expecting more from ratty.
Expecting more from ratty.
Expecting more.
We still represent ... represent.

song performed by ScooterReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
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