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What you sees, is what you gets.

quote by Jimmy Reed
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Light In My Darkness

as the day gets closeri ponder on what i told her she sees the light in my darkness as i wonder what she has caressed and she sees my poteintial as i am hororendously altered to what i am yet to be and she sees me for who i truely am as i slam my fist into this door a crippleing blow i should say as i lay here wondering why she sees light in my dark ness

as light filter through a darkness that is so true we wander thy dark wood wondering how to find our fate not to hate the one ho put us through wondering pondering why she sees the light filter through a darkness that is so true

as light penitrates my dark and wounded heart paying no mind to what it has healed as i seal my fate of which i take and it to claims me as a true dark but light finds my soul and she sees the light in my darkness that is so true

i am not as dark as i seem to be cuase she sees the light in me and i see the light in her which i truely pefer

and as i ponder on which i have said and i have sped down the road of life which is truely darkand she has saved me because she sees the light in my darkness of which i may contort due to the light she sees
as the darkness is contorted to see optimistically of all this strife as this knife drops to the floor as the darkness begins to contort
with this life i shall change as li lay me down to sleep i pray my soul the lord to keep if i die before i wke i pray my soul the lord to take as i partake in this in a heavenly manner i believe i see the light in my darkness as i see ture the beloved i shoved all my grief down the drain and she sees the light in my darkness as do i

hate is a fate that we we all can partake as we see the key to life as the kife is droped to the floor as the door slams into its jam life is contorted and then altered as we all can falter as the slaughter of man takes place as an ace is droped on the table as we all can tell this is a fable to be heard as a hearse takes your friend to her grave and she told me to say this that you are gay like the fey folk al i sasy this life flies by as shooting star and the i drive my car off a cliff into a tidal rift and float to the very end as i send a message to those who dont have hope and then i float to the land of the dead to spread this hate as we partake in the slaughter of man as i pretend the light was never spread and as i am beheaded by the beast with three heads as a hockey puck goes throgh a staind glass window as she is made a widow because of the war of the worlds and the darkness is once more contorted to her will and she sees me and the light in the darkness

forsay to end this fable i say to thee my life is a creed of which to be fallowed as i swallow the waters of the holyto souly depend on her to see tme for who i am truely am and thy light with in me thierein lies the secret of life which we all pass and not see as light filters through allof the dark and not lighted as my foresight is met light and dark meet for one last battle as life begins to contort and falter

then again life is always contorting to her will and the light spreads through a darkeness so trueonce more she sees the light in me in order to see the doves fly for her love for me cause she sees light in me and as i weave a tread so thin i send a message of hope in order to cope with the sin of man as i tan the hide of the beast so fierce that has dieed due to the light she brought me cuz she sees the light with in me

poem by Andy Pierce
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The Pillage Hangman - Parody LONGFELLOW - The Village Blacksmith

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Peter Bell, A Tale

PROLOGUE

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon;
But through the clouds I'll never float
Until I have a little Boat,
Shaped like the crescent-moon.

And now I 'have' a little Boat,
In shape a very crescent-moon
Fast through the clouds my boat can sail;
But if perchance your faith should fail,
Look up--and you shall see me soon!

The woods, my Friends, are round you roaring,
Rocking and roaring like a sea;
The noise of danger's in your ears,
And ye have all a thousand fears
Both for my little Boat and me!

Meanwhile untroubled I admire
The pointed horns of my canoe;
And, did not pity touch my breast,
To see how ye are all distrest,
Till my ribs ached, I'd laugh at you!

Away we go, my Boat and I--
Frail man ne'er sate in such another;
Whether among the winds we strive,
Or deep into the clouds we dive,
Each is contented with the other.

Away we go--and what care we
For treasons, tumults, and for wars?
We are as calm in our delight
As is the crescent-moon so bright
Among the scattered stars.

Up goes my Boat among the stars
Through many a breathless field of light,
Through many a long blue field of ether,
Leaving ten thousand stars beneath her:
Up goes my little Boat so bright!

The Crab, the Scorpion, and the Bull--
We pry among them all; have shot
High o'er the red-haired race of Mars,
Covered from top to toe with scars;
Such company I like it not!

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poem by William Wordsworth
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An Abc Of Inner Peace

inner peace: a to z (© Raj Arumugam, September 2008)

Inner peace is effortless, as it’s always there within.
One just has to see it.

And once one truly sees this inner peace – not with words or just
intellectually, but actually see this inner peace within – it is one’s, always;
no one takes away that…

Nothing and no evil and no violent force or even the most difficult
of circumstances in one’s life can remove that inner peace that one
sees within; but let one see this not as a word, or as a phrase
but as an actuality.

Feel that peace, see that inner peace and let it radiate always – for it is
the harmony within each and it is always one’s own.

A


Let amity be your constant companion….Be at peace with all beings, equally at peace with those near and those far, and thus walk hand in hand with amity as in a bounteous garden…





B


Be mindful of your blessings always…To be alive, to breathe in fresh air;
and to be with the family and the companionship of good fellow-human
beings; and the kindness of strangers; and the creatures of this world
and the flowers that bloom, and to have a place in this marvelous planet
of ours….all these too are blessings….

There is a life of the body in the domain of the physical, and
the legitimate needs of the body are just as important as
one’s inner needs…

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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God Knows

Baby tell me why
why do you question all this love that i have for you
if u look into my eyes and make an exception
i will show you love like no one before
put your trust in me
allow me to be that
baby give me your hand to hold
cause the feeling that i have
are so complicated that words cannot explain there is only one who knows only god knows how much i love you god sees my heart and that he cares about you, god knows that im thinking of you and im longing for you oh how wish that you knew what god knows
Baby tel me why
what is the reason one good reason your soo insecure cause after all that i have done i think you should know by now girl im down for you and the love i have is pure i wanna help you understand just how i feel for you your the one i cant let go because the feeling that i have are so complicated that words cannot explain there is only one who knows only god knows how much i love you god sees my heart and that he cares about you, god knows that im thinking of you and im longing for you how wish that you knew what god knows how much i love you god sees my heart and that he cares about you, god knows that im thinking of you and im longing for you oh how wish that you knew what god knows
and all of my lonely days only god knows i'm lonely and all my sleepless night (only god sees me crying) and everytime i think of you only god can read my mind (he reads my mind)god knows i tried if you understand heaven knows i miss you girl only god can see how much
cause everytime you go away (i long for your touch)now when i say i love you girl only sees my heart (he sees my heart) he sees my heart
only god knows how much i love you god sees my heart (girl you know that he sees my heart) and that he cares about you,(and he cares) god knows (yes he does) that im thinking of you (and im thinking of you) and im longing for you oh how wish that you knew what god knows (yes he does)
how much i love you god sees my heart and that he cares about you, god knows that im thinking of you and im longing for you oh how wish that you knew what god knows
la la la da da la la la
im thinking of you
la la la da da la la la
how i wish that you knew

song performed by 112
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What We Teach Our Children By: Cay Thorne

If a child sees abuse in any form -
They will become abusers in any form;
If a child sees love;
They become lovers and romantics at heart

If a child sees loyalty and trust;
They know how to be loyal and trustworthy.
If a child sees hatred to all things and humans
They will live without love and kindness.

If a child knows encouragement and praise;
They will show encouragement and praise to all.
If a child sees peace and happiness;
They will show love and happiness to all mankind.

If a child sees violence;
They learn to be violent to anything and everything.
If a child sees bullying at home as a victim;
They become a criminal to satisfy the hunger.

If a child sees charity;
They learn to show charity to others.
If a child sees you help others in need;
They become helpers to all in need.

If a child learns how to be raciest in all forms of the word;
They WILL learn the true meaning of racism and hatred –
Which shows non of the virtues;
That we need to live with to stop;
All the kinds of EVIL in this world today.

If a child sees all the virtues that are out there in the world today;
They will show these virtues to all mankind and no matter who the person is.

poem by Cay Thorne
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Passenger

I am the passenger and I ride and I ride
I ride through the city's backsides
I see the stars come out of the sky
Yeah, the bright and hollow sky
You know it looks so good tonight
I am the passenger
I stay under glass
I look through my window so bright
I see the stars come out tonight
I see the bright and hollow sky
Over the city's ripped backsides
And everything looks good tonight
Singing la la la la la.. lala la la, la la la la.. lala la la etc
Get into the car
We'll be the passenger
We'll ride through the city tonight
We'll see the city's ripped backsides
We'll see the bright and hollow sky
We'll see the stars that shine so bright
Stars made for us tonight
Oh, the passenger
How, how he rides
Oh, the passenger
He rides and he rides
He looks through his window
What does he see?
He sees the sign and hollow sky
He sees the stars come out tonight
He sees the city's ripped backsides
He sees the winding ocean drive
And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
'Cause it just belongs to you and me
So let's take a ride and see what's mine
Singing la la la la.. lala la la [x3]
Oh the passenger
He rides and he rides
He sees things from under glass
He looks through his window side
He sees the things that he knows are his
He sees the bright and hollow sky
He sees the city sleep at night
He sees the stars are out tonight
And all of it is yours and mine
And all of it is yours and mine
So let's ride and ride and ride and ride
Oh, oh, Singing la la la la lalalala

song performed by Iggy Pop
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Stranger, Shepherd and Sheep

Stranger sees all sheep are same
Shepherd sees all sheep are different

Sheep sees all strangers are same
Sheep sees all sheep are different

Shepherd sees all strangers are same
Stranger sees all strangers are different

Shepherd sees all shepherds are same
Sheep sees all shepherds are different

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Resignation

TO FAUSTA

_To die be given us, or attain!_
_Fierce work it were, to do again._
So pilgrims, bound for Mecca, pray'd
At burning noon; so warriors said,
Scarf'd with the cross, who watch'd the miles
Of dust which wreathed their struggling files
Down Lydian mountains; so, when snows
Round Alpine summits, eddying, rose,
The Goth, bound Rome-wards; so the Hun,
Crouch'd on his saddle, while the sun
Went lurid down o'er flooded plains
Through which the groaning Danube strains
To the drear Euxine;--so pray all,
Whom labours, self-ordain'd, enthrall;
Because they to themselves propose
On this side the all-common close
A goal which, gain'd, may give repose.
So pray they; and to stand again
Where they stood once, to them were pain;
Pain to thread back and to renew
Past straits, and currents long steer'd through.

But milder natures, and more free--
Whom an unblamed serenity
Hath freed from passions, and the state
Of struggle these necessitate;
Whom schooling of the stubborn mind
Hath made, or birth hath found, resign'd--
These mourn not, that their goings pay
Obedience to the passing day.
These claim not every laughing Hour
For handmaid to their striding power;
Each in her turn, with torch uprear'd,
To await their march; and when appear'd,
Through the cold gloom, with measured race,
To usher for a destined space
(Her own sweet errands all forgone)
The too imperious traveller on.
These, Fausta, ask not this; nor thou,
Time's chafing prisoner, ask it now!

We left, just ten years since, you say,
That wayside inn we left to-day.[1]
Our jovial host, as forth we fare,
Shouts greeting from his easy chair.
High on a bank our leader stands,
Reviews and ranks his motley bands,
Makes clear our goal to every eye--

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Arnold (1849)
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The Passenger

Pop/gardner
I am the passenger
And I ride and I ride
I ride through the citys backside
I see the stars come out of the sky
Yeah, theyre bright in a hollow sky
You know it looks so good tonight
I am the passenger
I stay under glass
I look through my window so bright
I see the stars come out tonight
I see the bright and hollow sky
Over the citys a rip in the sky
And everything looks good tonight
Singin la la la la la-la-la la
La la la la la-la-la la
La la la la la-la-la la la-la
Get into the car
Well be the passenger
Well ride through the city tonight
See the citys ripped insides
Well see the bright and hollow sky
Well see the stars that shine so bright
The sky was made for us tonight
Oh the passenger
How how he rides
Oh the passenger
He rides and he rides
He looks through his window
What does he see?
He sees the bright and hollow sky
He see the stars come out tonight
He sees the citys ripped backsides
He sees the winding ocean drive
And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
cause it just belongs to you and me
So lets take a ride and see whats mine
Singing...
Oh, the passenger
He rides and he rides
He sees things from under glass
He looks through his windows eye
He sees the things he knows are his
He sees the bright and hollow sky
He sees the city asleep at night
He sees the stars are out tonight
And all of it is yours and mine
And all of it is yours and mine
Oh, lets ride and ride and ride and ride...

[...] Read more

song performed by Iggy Pop
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Epilogue

Between the wave-ridge and the strand
I let you forth in sight of land,
Songs that with storm-crossed wings and eyes
Strain eastward till the darkness dies;
Let signs and beacons fall or stand,
And stars and balefires set and rise;
Ye, till some lordlier lyric hand
Weave the beloved brows their crown,
At the beloved feet lie down.

O, whatsoever of life or light
Love hath to give you, what of might
Or heart or hope is yours to live,
I charge you take in trust to give
For very love's sake, in whose sight,
Through poise of hours alternative
And seasons plumed with light or night,
Ye live and move and have your breath
To sing with on the ridge of death.

I charge you faint not all night through
For love's sake that was breathed on you
To be to you as wings and feet
For travel, and as blood to heat
And sense of spirit to renew
And bloom of fragrance to keep sweet
And fire of purpose to keep true
The life, if life in such things be,
That I would give you forth of me.

Out where the breath of war may bear,
Out in the rank moist reddened air
That sounds and smells of death, and hath
No light but death's upon its path
Seen through the black wind's tangled hair,
I send you past the wild time's wrath
To find his face who bade you bear
Fruit of his seed to faith and love,
That he may take the heart thereof.

By day or night, by sea or street,
Fly till ye find and clasp his feet
And kiss as worshippers who bring
Too much love on their lips to sing,
But with hushed heads accept and greet
The presence of some heavenlier thing
In the near air; so may ye meet
His eyes, and droop not utterly
For shame's sake at the light you see.

[...] Read more

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Four Seasons : Autumn

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
Nitrous prepared; the various blossom'd Spring
Put in white promise forth; and Summer-suns
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows,
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow;
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving through the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song.
But she too pants for public virtue, she,
Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra weighs in equal scales the year;
From Heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook
Of parting Summer, a serener blue,
With golden light enliven'd, wide invests
The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise,
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds
A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.
Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain:
A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air
Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.
Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;
The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun
By fits effulgent gilds the illumined field,
And black by fits the shadows sweep along.
A gaily chequer'd heart-expanding view,
Far as the circling eye can shoot around,
Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power!
Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain;
Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life:
Raiser of human kind! by Nature cast,
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
With various seeds of art deep in the mind

[...] Read more

poem by James Thomson
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Thoughts On Jesus Christ's Decent Into Hell

WHAT wondrous noise is heard around!
Through heaven exulting voices sound,

A mighty army marches on
By thousand millions follow'd, lo,
To yon dark place makes haste to go

God's Son, descending from His throne!
He goes--the tempests round Him break,

As Judge and Hero cometh He;
He goes--the constellations quake,
The sun, the world quake fearfully.

I see Him in His victor-car,
On fiery axles borne afar,

Who on the cross for us expired.
The triumph to yon realms He shows,--
Remote from earth, where star ne'er glows,

The triumph He for us acquired.
He cometh, Hell to extirpate,

Whom He, by dying, wellnigh kill'd;
He shall pronounce her fearful fate
Hark! now the curse is straight fulfill'd.

Hell sees the victor come at last,
She feels that now her reign is past,

She quakes and fears to meet His sight;
She knows His thunders' terrors dread,
In vain she seeks to hide her head,

Attempts to fly, but vain is flight;
Vainly she hastes to 'scape pursuit

And to avoid her Judge's eye;
The Lord's fierce wrath restrains her foot
Like brazen chains,--she cannot fly.

Here lies the Dragon, trampled down,
He lies, and feels God's angry frown,

He feels, and grinneth hideously;
He feels Hell's speechless agonies,
A thousand times he howls and sighs:

"Oh, burning flames! quick, swallow me!"

[...] Read more

poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Fairy Of The Fountains

WHY did she love her mother's so?
It hath wrought her wondrous wo.

Once she saw an armed knight
In the pale sepulchral light;
When the sullen starbeams throw
Evil spells on earth below:
And the moon is cold and pale,
And a voice is on the gale,
Like a lost soul's heavenward cry,
Hopeless in its agony.

He stood beside the castle-gate,
The hour was dark, the hour was late;
With the bearing of a king
Did he at the portal ring,
And the loud and hollow bell
Sounded like a Christian's knell.
That pale child stood on the wall,
Watching there, and saw it all.
Then she was a child as fair
As the opening blossoms are:
But with large black eyes, whose light
Spoke of mystery and might.
The stately stranger's head was bound
With a bright and golden round;
Curiously inlaid, each scale
Shone upon his glittering mail;
His high brow was cold and dim,
And she felt she hated him.
Then she heard her mother's voice,
Saying, ' 'Tis not at my choice!
'We for ever, wo the hour,
'When you sought my secret bower,
'Listening to the word of fear,
'Never meant for human ear.
'Thy suspicion's vain endeavour,
'We! we! parted us for ever.'

Still the porter of the hall
Heeded not that crown'd knight's call.
When a glittering shape there came,
With a brow of starry flame;
And he led that knight again
O'er the bleak and barren plain.
He flung, with an appealing cry,
His dark and desperate arms on high;
And from Melusina's sight
Fled away through thickest night.
Who has not, when but a child,

[...] Read more

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Retirement

Hackney'd in business, wearied at that oar,
Which thousands, once fast chain'd to, quit no more,
But which, when life at ebb runs weak and low,
All wish, or seem to wish, they could forego;
The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade,
Pants for the refuge of some rural shade,
Where, all his long anxieties forgot
Amid the charms of a sequester'd spot,
Or recollected only to gild o'er
And add a smile to what was sweet before,
He may possess the joys he thinks he sees,
Lay his old age upon the lap of ease,
Improve the remnant of his wasted span,
And, having lived a trifler, die a man.
Thus conscience pleads her cause within the breast,
Though long rebell'd against, not yet suppress'd,
And calls a creature form'd for God alone,
For Heaven's high purposes, and not his own,
Calls him away from selfish ends and aims,
From what debilitates and what inflames,
From cities humming with a restless crowd,
Sordid as active, ignorant as loud,
Whose highest praise is that they live in vain,
The dupes of pleasure, or the slaves of gain,
Where works of man are cluster'd close around,
And works of God are hardly to be found,
To regions where, in spite of sin and woe,
Traces of Eden are still seen below,
Where mountain, river, forest, field, and grove,
Remind him of his Maker’s power and love.
'Tis well, if look’d for at so late a day,
In the last scene of such a senseless play,
True wisdom will attend his feeble call,
And grace his action ere the curtain fall.
Souls, that have long despised their heavenly birth,
Their wishes all impregnated with earth,
For threescore years employ’d with ceaseless care,
In catching smoke, and feeding upon air,
Conversant only with the ways of men,
Rarely redeem the short remaining ten.
Inveterate habits choke the unfruitful heart,
Their fibres penetrate its tenderest part,
And, draining its nutritious power to feed
Their noxious growth, starve every better seed.
Happy, if full of days—but happier far,
If, ere we yet discern life’s evening star,
Sick of the service of a world that feeds
Its patient drudges with dry chaff and weeds,
We can escape from custom’s idiot sway,
To serve the sovereign we were born to obey.

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
Added by Poetry Lover
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Rote Lippen Soll Man Kssen

Lately all you can feel is the rain falling
Maybe you feel this world is to blame
you've been crying.
Only
only inside will you know
but still you wonder sometimes:
Where can
where can you go? - Can you go
can you go? -
Remember me
- oh
when you feel this way
And you need someone to lean on.
And if you're ever
- ever too far away
Remember me
- I am the one
- remember me
- I am the one.
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes.
Remember me
- I am yqur guardian angel
and I'll never let you fall.
And if you'Fe ever
ever In fear of danger
-
Remember me
- I am the one
- remember me
- I am the one
-
Who will turn
turn all your darkness to light in the morning.
You'll learn when yov're too hard on yovrself yov can call me.
Remember me
- oh
when you feel this way
. . .
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes.
I can see you
yeah!
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes
Remember me

[...] Read more

song performed by Cliff Richard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Goodbye Mr. Ed

The ghost of manhattoes
Shrieking as they fall
From at&t
Someone sees it all
Goodbye mr. ed
Andys skull enshrined
In a shopping mall near queens
Someone sees it all
Icarus takes his pratfall
Bruegel on his head
Goodbye mr. ed
Four and twenty black kids
Some of them are blind
Someone sees it all
Tolerance of violence
By the fellows with no heads
Goodbye mr. ed
Some things are so big
They make no sense
Histories so small
People are so dense
Someone sees it al
Goodbye mr. ed
Some things are so big
They make no sense
Histories so small
People are so dense
Someone sees it al
Goodbye mr. ed
Never mind the pistols
They laid the golem eggs
Others came to hatch them
Outside the pale
Someone sees it all
Goodbye mr. ed

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Two Pump Texaco

(michael dulaney/neil thrasher)
(track 1 - time 3:55)
He was wipin motor oil off her dipstick
She was pullin on the hair that got caught in her lipstick
And with the smell of her perfume he forgot the smell of gasoline
As he was toppin off her tank she said, how far to abilene?
He sees em come
He sees em go
From the island of his
Two pump texaco
Theres a rusted out rambler up on the rack
And a pile of bald goodyears out in the back
He meets families on vacation, bikers and businessmen
He calls em friend but hell probably never see em again
No he wont
He sees em come
He sees em go
From the island of his
Two pump texaco
He keeps em moving
On down the road
Come back real soon
To his two pump texaco
Hes heard about those big city shop-n-go stations
With twenty automated self-service machines
He just feels sorry for them big city people
They must not know what service really means
Hes got a sign that says
Last chance stop for at least two hundred miles
Maps, gas, soda pop,
Lucky strikes and moon pies
Yeah, hes a third generation filler-up, full service man
He thanks the lord for that star in the sky and the grease on his hands
Yeah he does
He sees em come
He sees em go
From the island of his
Two pump texaco
Its like a place we used to know
Come back real soon
To his two pump texaco

song performed by Diamond Rio
Added by Lucian Velea
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Celebrate Youth

I can see the older man
Looking at the younger man
I can see the younger man
Looking at the boy
Over there the older woman
Is looking at the younger woman
I can see the younger woman
Looking at the girl
cause every man sees
In the younger man the hope
Every woman sees
In the younger girl the dream
Everybody lives
The pride and passion of the young
From the womb to the tomb
We will remember what it means
So celebrate youth (celebrate)
Those who have it (young ones)
Celebrate youth (celebrate)
Give them sight
The future of the worlds in the (celebrate)
Hands of children (young ones)
So celebrate youth (celebrate)
Teach them right
Looking in a childs eye
Theres no hate and theres no lie
Theres no black and theres no white
I can see the older man
Sometimes in the older man
I still see the young boy
Burning in his eye
And locked up here inside our spirit
Is the child that we are, hear it
Some of us will always fear it
And some will heed the cry
But everyone sees
In the younger one the hope
Everybody sees
In the younger one the dream
Everybody lives
The pride and passion of the young
From the womb to the tomb
We will remember what it means
So celebrate youth (celebrate)
Those who have it (young ones)
Celebrate youth (celebrate)
Give them sight
The future of the worlds in the (celebrate)
Hands of children (young ones)
So celebrate youth (celebrate)

[...] Read more

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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