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Mostly I'm telling people that they don't have to be victims.

quote by Anne McCaffrey
Added by Lucian Velea
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When You Really Love Someone

I'm a woman
lord knows it hard
i need a real man to give me what i need
sweet attention love and tenderness
when it real it's unconditional
i'm telling ya'll
cause a man just ain't a man if he aint man enough
to love you when you right
love you when you wrong
love you when you weak
love you when you strong
(take you higher) when the world got you feelin low
he's given you his last cause
he's thinkin of you first given comfort when
he's think that you hurt (that's done when you really love someone )
i'm telling ya'll i'm telling ya'll
cause your a real man
and lord knows it's hard
sometimes you just need a woman's touch
sweet effections love and supports
when it real it's unconditional i'm telling ya'll
cause a woman ain't a woman if she ain't woman
enough to love you when you right
love you when you wrong
love you when you weak love you when you strong
(take you higher)when the world got you feelin low
she's given you her best even when you at your worst
given comfort when she thinkin
that you hurt (that's what done when you really love
someone) i'm telling ya'll i'm telling ya'll
um...um..um...um
sometimes you want to argue
sometimes you want to fight
sometimes it's going to feel like it will never be right
but something so strong keeps
you holdin on it don't make sense
but it makes a good song
Cause a man just aint a man if he aint man enough
to love you when you right
love you when you wrong
love you when you weak
love you strong
(take you higher)when the world got you feelin low
he given his last
cause he's thinkin of you first
given comfort when he's thinkin that you hurt
(that's done when you really love someone)
i'm telling ya'll i'm telling ya'll
a woman aint a woman ain't woman enough to
love you when you right

[...] Read more

song performed by Alicia Keys
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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All Different, But Still The Same

Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.

Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.

Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.

Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.

Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.

Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.

Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.

Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.

Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.

Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.

We are all different, but still the same.

When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.

Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.

Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong

poem by Phyllis Strong
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To they who survive on less than one dollar a day

Hobos who're denied a decent shelter
And stripped of all vestiges of human dignity,
And poverty stricken villagers and desperate refugees
Who're denied decent medical care and access to justice,
And children who must forage for food in the dustbins
The just of the world have not forgotten you

And the soldiers who wage the wars of extermination
Against their own people,
And those who're forced to be the sex slaves
Of the moneyed and the toddlers who become child soldiers
And the misguided and greedy drug mules who are raped and
And tortured and hanged and left to rot in foreign jails
Our children
We have not forgotten you

And the world demands a true and more humane
World order that stands up to demand justice
For the victims of state sponsored violence
And justice for the victims of ritual murder and female
Genital mutilation and the victims of AIDS
And the entire universe demands
Justice for the victims of racist attacks and the victims of mob violence
And from the bosoms of their hearts the children of the world stand
Stand up as one and they demand justice for the victims of mindless
Violence and they cry out for justice for the victims of genocide
And they want to see the perpetrators of ethnic cleansing
Brought to justice to answer for their evil deeds

poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Some People

Some people seem to have it all
Some people always have to crawl
Some people pay to be abused
Some people end up destitute
Some people search their souls for truth
Some people try to be of use
Some people pray before they kill
Some people kill just for the thrill
Some people follow one mans vision, some others die on television
Some people build their homes on sand, some people live in garbage cans
Some people think that live is dear, some people hope the end is near
Some people fight for right to life, some people hate to stay alive
Some people dream of life on mars, some people end their life in cars
Some people throw their lives away, some others go on holidays
Some people live and love in vain, some people dont and go insane
Some people always need to win, some other people love to sin
Some people breaking all their vows, some people slashing sacred cows
Some people like to worship stars, some people think the worlds a farce
Some people try to make ends meet, some others end up kissing feet
Some people find their holy grail, some other people go to hell
Some people never catch their breath, some people drink themselves to death
Some people seem to have it all, some people always have to crawl
Some people pay to be abused, some people end up destitute
Some people search their souls for truth
Some people try to be of use
Some people
!
Gold/ocean/1994

song performed by Alphaville
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ordinary People

In a dusty town a clock struck high noon, two men stood face to face.
One wore black and one wore white, but of fear there wasnt a trace.
Two hundred years later two hot rods drag through the very same place,
And a half a million people
Moved in to pick up the pace, a factory full of people.
Makin parts to go to outer space, a train load of people.
They were aimin for another place, out of town people.
Theres a man in the window with a big cigar, says everythings for sale.
The house and the boat and the railroad car, the owners gotta go to jail.
He acquired these things from a life of crime, now hes selling them to raise his bail.
He was rippin off the people.
Sellin guns to the underground, tryin to help the people.
Lose their ass for a piece of ground, rippin off the people.
Skimmin the top when there was no one around, tryin to help the people.
He was dealing antiques in a hardware store but he sure had a lot to hide.
He had a backroom full of the guns of war and a ton of ammunition besides.
Well, he walked with a cane, kept a bolt on the door with five pit bulls inside,
Just a warning to the people
Who might try to break in at night, protection from the people.
Selling safety in the darkest night, tryin to help the people.
Get the drugs to the street all right, ordinary people.
Well, its hard to say where a man goes wrong, might be here and it might be there.
What starts out weak might get too strong, if you cant tell foul from fair.
But its hard to judge from an angry throng of hands stretched into the air,
The vigilante people.
Takin law into their own hands, conscientious people.
Crackin down on the druglords land, government people.
Confiscatin all the dealers land, patch-of-ground people.
Down at the factory, theyre puttin new windows in.
The vandals made a mess of things, and the homeless just walked right in.
Well, they worked here once, and they live here now, but they might work here again,
Theyre ordinary people.
And theyre livin in a nightmare, hard workin people.
And they dont know how they go there, ordinary people.
And they think that you dont care, hard workin people.
Down on the assembly line, they keep puttin the same thing out.
But the people today, they just aint buyin, nobody can figure it out.
Well, they try like hell to build a quality end, theyre workin hard without a doubt,
Theyre ordinary people.
And the dollars what its all about, hard workin people.
But the customers are walkin out, lee iacocca people.
Yeah, they look but they just dont buy, hard workin people.
Two out of work models and a fashion slave try to dance away the michelob night.
The bartender poured himself another drink, while two drunks sat watchin the fight.
The champ went down, then he got up again, and then he went out like a light,
He was fightin for the people.
But his timing wasnt right, for las vegas people
Who came to see a las vegas fight, high rollin people.
Takin limos though the neon night, fightin for the people.
And then a new rolls royce and a company car they went flyin down the street.

[...] Read more

song performed by Neil Young
Added by Lucian Velea
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That Little Hole

Some people keep their love in a safe, then forget the combination
Some people think life's a masquerade ball, keeping up with the latest fashion
Some people sell dreams like rag magazines, on the busy fast food city street corners
Some people give, some people take, Some people share, some people fake
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people hide from the world and it’s charms, others flee from its tragedy
Some people wish for a place to call home while they kill off every living thing they see
Some people await the rapture and fate, others are simply looking for the cure
Some people lead some people follow, some people spit, some people swallow
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing

Some people search for Utopia and peace, but never seem to laugh
Some people forgot what it’s like to be young, having grown up much to fast
Some people preach salvation and hope to anyone willing to pay
Some people judge to quick, some never judge at all, some people climb, some are simply happy to fall
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people feel the mirror holds the key, to their tomorrows and prosperity
Some people are sealed off from the world by their hearts, their leaders, or their personality
Some people are like cannibals, they devour what they need and move on
Some people are criminals trying to make ends meet, steeling from others trying to make ends meet
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people feel its much more real, to chase rainbows on canvass painted skies
Some people think their shit don’t stink, some have the trust of a saint and tell lies
Some people’s minds react like a nuclear bomb, some people are one with the galaxy
Some people die as they lived, others live as they die, some never give up hope, others don’t even try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Some people wear their hearts on their sleeve, others forget what it means to be free
Some people speak of friendships and love, but don’t know what it means to be a friend
Some people search for enlightenment in the stars, in tea leaves, other find it floating in a glass
Some people smile, some people cry, some people live, some people try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Some people are afraid to take risks, or to be anything they wish until they die
Some people love the sound of their voice, some talk more than they listen
Some people don’t suffer fools only to find the jokes on them

[...] Read more

poem by Colin Coplin
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Exodus (Laswell Mix)

[Bob Marley]
Exodus: Movement of Jah people! Oh-oh-oh, yea-eah!
.......
Men and people will fight ya down (Tell me why!)
When ya see Jah light. (Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!)
Let me tell you if you're not wrong; (Then, why?)
Everything is all right.
So we gonna walk - all right! - through de roads of creation:
We the generation (Tell me why!)
(Trod through great tribulation) trod through great tribulation.
Exodus, all right! Movement of Jah people!
Oh, yeah! O-oo, yeah! All right!
Exodus: Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
Yeah-yeah-yeah, well!
Uh! Open your eyes and look within:
Are you satisfied (with the life you're living)? Uh!
We know where we're going, uh!
We know where we're from.
We're leaving Babylon,
We're going to our Father land.
2, 3, 4: Exodus: movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
(Movement of Jah people!) Send us another brother Moses!
(Movement of Jah people!) From across the Red Sea!
(Movement of Jah people!) Send us another brother Moses!
(Movement of Jah people!) From across the Red Sea!
Movement of Jah people!
---
/Instrumental break/
---
Exodus, all right! Oo-oo-ooh! Oo-ooh!
Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
Exodus!
Exodus! All right!
Exodus! Now, now, now, now!
Exodus!
Exodus! Oh, yea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-eah!
Exodus!
Exodus! All right!
Exodus! Uh-uh-uh-uh!
Move! Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!
Open your eyes and look within:
Are you satisfied with the life you're living?
We know where we're going;
We know where we're from.
We're leaving Babylon, y'all!
We're going to our Father's land.
Exodus, all right! Movement of Jah people!
Exodus: movement of Jah people!
Movement of Jah people!
Movement of Jah people!

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
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People At The Bustop

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Don't have time to talk a lot.
('people at the bustop? ')
And when it rains or snow on them drops,
People at the bustop,
Don't appear to anger with moods to cop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
May sing a tune or fingerpop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Listening to music through earplugs blocked,
And unheard to hear by those who are near.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Don't have time to talk a lot.
('people at the bustop? ')
And when it rains or snow on them drops,
People at the bustop,
Don't appear to anger with moods to cop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
With ipods bop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Listening to their rap or rockin' hip hop.

Oh those people at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
With ipods bop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Listening to their rap or rockin' hip hop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Don't have time to talk a lot.
('people at the bustop? ')
And when it rains or snow on them drops,
People at the bustop,
Don't appear to anger with moods to cop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Peeping on the people who are nodding to a beat.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Young Life Being Destroyed

There is a scandal in this sick world,
That makes the majority of us feel so reviled,
If there's a crime as heinous as murder,
It's the sexual abuse of a child.

It's been around for thousands of years,
But some have looked the other way,
The men in dark suits have hidden the truth,
While the victims do not have a say.

They've been beaten, abused and tortured,
By people who are nothing but beasts,
But these scum do not wear labels,
They can even be nuns and priests.

If they took time to read their scriptures,
These predators would know full well,
There will be no entry to Heaven for them,
For an eternity it's confinement in Hell.

There are some who work in nurseries,
They're even in our schools,
These predators are all around us,
But they don't live by our rules.

The type of work they're engaged in,
From suspicion they are exempt,
They gain the confidence of children,
Then treat them with total contempt.

They're the very people we turn to,
When we're in our hour of need,
But beware there is evil among them,
On your childhood innocence they'll feed.

They're the ones we are taught to believe in,
What reason would we have not to trust,
Something you would never contemplate is,
Their thoughts towards you could turn to lust.

When it's found out what they've been doing,
Rather than have them exposed,
They sweep it under the carpet,
It's better this subject's kept closed.

Those we trusted to look after us,
They were meant to show us affection,
While we've been sentenced for the rest of our lives,
They'll be given a lifetimes protection.

[...] Read more

poem by Bri Mar
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The Golden Age

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.

Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.

Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
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Victims Of Circumstance

They stand bewildered by all that goes around them,
living within their own little worlds,
which we cannot even understand.
These victims of circumstance stand.

We all look on and bow our heads,
when they bury victims of war,
but turn away whenever we see
these poor lost souls.

Some are there because of defects at birth,
others the aftermath of disease,
while others involved in accidents,
and left to suffer humiliation.

The brain is a wonderful thing,
when it functions properly,
functioning wrong its host
is charged with insanity.

There are those who are violent,
and in institutions are the only life they will ever see.
Others have strange ways, and act in a childlike manner be.
While others need constant attention, because of hardly any brain activity.

All are victims of circumstance,
beyond anyone’s control.
They would live a normal life,
if they had a choice to be.

They are victims shunned by society,
who say they are a blight, on our lives,
and locked away out of sight,
every one of them should be.

No one wants to associate with them;
their only friends are of their own kind.
They look out with pleading eyes,
for someone who may be kind.

The names they are called are hurtful,
yet they do not understand.
These poor lost souls
only ask for a helping hand.

Those who have worked with the mentally ill,
will tell you, not all of them are stupid.
They can feel just like us, love, hurt and pain.
Some can do what we call menial tasks
and others look after themselves.

[...] Read more

poem by David Harris
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Who Are the Victims of This Misguidance?

They were not aware they were being treated special?
Like one who waves,
From the backseat of a limousine.
Did it occur to them...
As they passed those homeless,
Hungry and poor.
Their very presence had been considered obscene?
And why was it necessary...
To careen through lost and vacant dreams?

Who are the victims of this misguidance?
Who are the victims of this scene?

They were not aware they were being treated special?
Even when hints were dropped...
They should continue and not stop.
They should not ask any questions,
But proceed to throw bread...
Out of the window instead.
And consider those who ran after crumbs...
As birds without wings.
Since they do not like to be called bums.

Who are the victims of this misguidance?
Who are the victims of this scene?

And they were not aware they were being treated special?
Those who rode inside by a driver.
Nor did they who chased collecting another's waste.
Believing their needs were being met.
By someone who accepted them...
And left them to forget.
As those electing to choose values of poor taste.
Something neither chose...
As they ran or rode,
To remember or regret!

Who are the victims of this misguidance?
Who are the victims of this scene?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Power To The People

Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Say you want a revolution
We better get on right away
Well you get on your feet
And out on the street
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
A million workers working for nothing
You better give em what they really own
We got to put you down
When we come into town
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
I gotta ask you comrades and brothers
How do you treat you own woman back home
She got to be herself
So she can free herself
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Now, now, now, now
Oh well, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Yeah, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on

song performed by Lennon John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Power To The People

Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Say we want a revolution,
Wed better get it on right away.
Well, get yer on your feet
And into the street, singing:
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
A million workers workin for nothin,
You better give em what they really own.
We got to put you down
When we come into town, singing:
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
I gotta ask you comrades and brothers,
How do you treat your own woman back home?
Shes got to be herself,
So she can give us help, singing:
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Now, now, now, now!
Oh well, power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Oh yeah, power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, power to the people!
Power to the people!
Oh well, power to the people!
Power to the people, right on!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lieing Through Their Teeth

Giving up a smile or two,
Does not end a feud...
One begins.
Nor is a joker without a seriousness,
Worth a fist to lift.

Giving up a smile or two,
May work best for children...
Teasing each other after school.
But to think it's okay to lie just to do,
Seems so foolish to hear those who do it.

Some people can't seem to live a life,
Without a lieing through their teeth.
Some people.
Some people.
Some people do what they do,
To disturb another's peace.
Some people.
Some people.
And the same people doing it,
Love the doing it of this.

Giving up a smile or two,
Does not end a feud...
One begins.
Nor is a joker without a seriousness,
Worth a fist to lift.
And the same people doing it,
Love the doing it of this.

Some people can't seem to live a life,
Without a lieing through their teeth.
Some people.
Some people.
Some people do what they do,
To disturb another's peace.
Some people.
Some people.
And the same people doing it,
Love the doing it of this.

Some people do what they do,
To disturb another's peace.
Some people.
Some people.
And the same people doing it,
Love the doing it of this.

Giving up a smile or two,

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Too Many People

(tennant/lowe)
-------------------
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people at once
The husband or the hedonist
The businessman or the communist
The artist or the showbiz creep
The lover or the nervous geek
The question of identity is one thats always haunted me
Whoever I decide to be depends on who is with me
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people at once
The tactless twit putting his foot in it
Or the sensitive soul whos a role model
The urban jet setter - never at home
Or the country recluse - just leave me alone
Extrovert or introvert
Love is kind, and love hurts
Rebellion or conformity
What is my identity?
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people at once
The intellectual and bon-viveur
Or the naive simpleton, so immature
A devoted son and family man
Or the wicked uncle who doesnt give a damn
How often these have tempted me
The question of identity depends on what Im meant to be
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people at once
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people
I sometimes think that Im too many people
Too many people, too many people at once

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mirror Mirror

Mirror, mirror
Up on the wall in the back of the room
As I walk down the hall in the house where I stayed
Tell me something about what I saw in the face of a man
Who once felt it all but feels nothing today
Knock knock
Who's there
I don't know, I can't say
Ask me tomorrow
I'll tell you the same
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now
Trouble trouble
Down in my hood where it's well understood
They love when you're bad
And they hate when you're good
Tell me something about who we are at the end of our days
When our souls become one but our lives separate
Knock knock
Who's there
I don't know I can't say
Ask me tomorrow
I'll tell you the same
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now (It's bound to make you smile)
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now (It's bound to make you smile)
It's bound to make you smile

song performed by Whiskeytown
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mirror Mirror

Mirror, mirror
Up on the wall in the back of the room
As I walk down the hall in the house where I stayed
Tell me something about what I saw in the face of a man
Who once felt it all but feels nothing today
Knock knock
Who's there
I don't know, I can't say
Ask me tomorrow
I'll tell you the same
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now
Trouble trouble
Down in my hood where it's well understood
They love when you're bad
And they hate when you're good
Tell me something about who we are at the end of our days
When our souls become one but our lives separate
Knock knock
Who's there
I don't know I can't say
Ask me tomorrow
I'll tell you the same
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now (It's bound to make you smile)
Ooh, I'm telling you now
I'm telling you now (It's bound to make you smile)
It's bound to make you smile

song performed by Whiskeytown
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dont Let Me Down

Yeah-aahhh-yeah, ooooooooohhhhh
Even though Im scared,
And Im not pre-pared
I need to know
A way
To be oh so-sure
That-i-can-ah-dore your-heart (your-heart) your-soul(your-soul) your love
cos baby I care,
And I hope you feel the same (echo)
Dont let me down
Im telling you that youre my baby
The worlds gone crazy
This love weve found
Dont always come around (----wont you dance)
So-im-telling-you baby
Im still around (echo)
Ohhhhh-oh-oh-oh
Hhmmmmm-hm-hm
I apolgise,
For the way that i
Describe
My mind
To you.
With my-love for-you,
I would not fail to keep you true
Its all, i-have, to-do-do-do
cos baby, I care,
And I hope you feel the same (echo)
Dont deny me
Dont let me down
Im telling youw that youre my baby
The worlds gone crazy,
This love weve found (echo)
Dont always come around (----wont you dance)
So-im-telling-you baby
Im still around
(indeterminate warbling? falsetto cos you stole my heart. not-falsetto yes-you-did)
cos baby I care,
I hope you feel the same
Dont deny me (dont let me down (echo), Im telling you)
Im telling you (that youre my baby, the worlds gone crazy (echo))
This love weve found (echo)
Dont always come around (----wont you dance)
So Im telling you baby
Dont let me down (dont let me down-down)
Im telling you that youre my baby (youre my baby)
The worlds gone crazy
This love weve found (weve found)
Dont always come around (----wont you dance)

song performed by Will Young
Added by Lucian Velea
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