Books are standing counselors and preachers, always at hand, and always disinterested; having this advantage over oral instructors, that they are ready to repeat their lesson as often as we please.
quote by Louis Nizer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Preachers Of The Night
See the gates of hell and theyre still bleeding
Creatures of the night are creeping out - so proud
Ill be there once more to feed them
More and more theyre sneaking in my mind - so strong
All in all nothings left behind
Cannot hold it back this dark desire
Dont turn your head or youll be dead
The good have gone to ground - you know why
Preachers of the night - theyre calling
Preachers of the night - there will be no tomorrow
Preachers of the night - Im falling
Preachers of the night - they want me back
Touch the gates of hell while theyre still bleeding
Tearing at my soul and watch it weep - so raw
You better back off
My mind is not my own take heed then
All evils been unleashed within us all - so war!
You better back off
All in all nothings left behind
Cannot hold it back this dark desire
Dont turn your head or youll be dead
The good have gone to ground - you know why
Preachers of the night - theyre calling
Preachers of the night - there will be no tomorrow
Preachers of the night - Im falling
Preachers of the night - they want me back
Deal me out - Ive had enough
Trading in the kingdom of te beast
Step by step - not far behind me
Flesh and blood will never rest in peace
All in all nothings left behind
Cannot hold it back this dark desire
Dont turn your head or youll be dead
The good have gone to ground - you know why
Preachers of the night - theyre calling
Preachers of the night - there will be no tomorrow
Preachers of the night - Im falling
Preachers of the night - they want me back
Preachers of the night - theyre calling
Preachers of the night - there will be no tomorrow
Preachers of the night - Im falling
Preachers of the night - they want me back
song performed by U. D. O.
Added by Lucian Velea
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First Book
OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.
I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.
I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Only Way To Control Things
The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Water on rock
a fist can't do anything to stop the rain
that keeps washing its bloody knuckles
by kissing the raw red buds
of the pain-killing poppies clean.
Anger grows ashamed of itself
in the presence of unopposable compassion
just as planets are humbled by their atmospheres.
The soft supple things of life insist
and the hard brittle ones comply.
Bullies are the broken toys of wimps.
Power limps.
But space is an open hand.
Mass may shape it
but it teaches matter how to move
just as the sky converts its openness
into a cloud and a bird
or the silence nurtures
the embryo of a blue word
in the empty womb of the dark mother
like the echo of something that can't be said.
The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Not a posture of giving.
Not a posture of receiving.
Not a posture of greeting or farewell.
Not hanging on or letting go
but the single bridge they both make
when they're both at peace with the flow.
It's not the branch it's not the trunk
it's not the root it's not the fruit
but the open handedness of its leaves
that is a tree's consummate passion.
Isis tattoos her star on their palms
like sailors and sails
to keep them from drowning
and into the valleys of their open hands
that lie at the foot of their crook-backed mountains
the aloof stars risk the intimacy of fireflies
and fate flows down like tributaries into the mindstream
as life roots its wildflowers on both shores
as if there were no sides to the flowing
of our binary lifelines.
The only way to control things is with an open hand.
You cannot bind the knower to the knowing
as if time had to know where eternity was going
before anything could change.
X marks the spot where all maps are born
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
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Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
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The Courtship of Miles Standish
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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Courtship of Miles Standish, The
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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Books are standing counselors and preachers, always at hand, and always disinterested; having this advantage over oral instructors that they are ready to repeat their lessons as often as we please.
quote by Robert Chambers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Skeletons
Skeletons in your closet
Itchin to come outside
Messin with your conscience
In a way your face cant hide
Oh things are gettin real funky
Down at the old corral
And its not the skunks that are stinkin
Its the stinkin lies you tell
What did your mama tell you about lies
She said it wasnt polite to tell a white one
What did your daddy tell you about lies
He said one white one turns into a black one
So, its gettin ready to blow
Its gettin ready to show
Somebody shot off at the mouth and
Were gettin ready to know
Its gettin ready to drop
Its gettin ready to shock
Somebody done turned up the heater
Ana its gettin ready to pop
Crevices in your pantry
Now what do we have in here
Havin a daytime nightmare
Has always been your biggest fear
Oh things are gettin real crucial
Up the old wazoo
Yet you cry, why am I the victim?
When the culprits y-o-u
What did your mama tell you about lies
She said it wasnt polite to tell a white one
What did your daddy tell you about lies
He said one white one turns into a black one
So, its gettin ready to blow
Its gettin ready to show
Somebody shot off at the mouth and
Were gettin ready to know
Its gettin ready to drop
Its gettin ready to shock
Somebody done turned up the heater
Ana its gettin ready to pop
Its gettin ready to seep
Youre gettin ready to freak
Somebody done picked up the talk box
Were gettin ready to speak
Its gettin ready to jive
Youre gettin ready to gel
Somebody done gone let the lid off
Were gettin ready to smell
Theyre gettin ready to deal
Youre gettin ready to ill
[...] Read more
song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Revel In The Joy Of Books
Revel in the Joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
On the joy of get hooked
It’s an addiction that’s boredom proof
Indulge, it’s fun to revel in the joy of books
Take up a book and get hooked
Nothing’s wrong with getting hooked on the joy of books
Don’t’ be a fool change your outlook take up a book
Look into the joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
In monotony don’t remain stuck take a journey with a book
Find adventure and excitement in the joy of books
A book will certainly change your gloomy outlook
Take up a boot and leisurely get hooked
Books are enlightening just try reading
Free your imagination with a book allow it to roam freely
Shucks get with the program revel in the joy of books
Books they are boredom proof just revel in the joy of books.
Anthony S.Phillander©280112
Revel in the Joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
On the joy of get hooked
It’s an addiction that’s boredom proof
Indulge, it’s fun to revel in the joy of books
Take up a book and get hooked
Nothing’s wrong with getting hooked on the joy of books
Don’t’ be a fool change your outlook take up a book
Look into the joy of books
Revel in the joy of books
In monotony don’t remain stuck take a journey with a book
Find adventure and excitement in the joy of books
A book will certainly change your gloomy outlook
Take up a boot and leisurely get hooked
[...] Read more
poem by Anthony Shurland Phillander
Added by Poetry Lover
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Get Ready
You think you know but you have no clue
No idea
You dont know g
I mean you really really dont know g
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
Hell yeah ya better get ready
Whats cracka lackin
Its the big dog
Im in the hizzle with my nizzle gin u izzle
And I mean from playa to playa
Its only right if I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass it to my nephew g
Hes bonafide, qualified, and the ladies would definitely testify
Matter fact g
Holla at them nephew
Fa sho
Pass the hennessey
Im about to get bent
Toss the box of blunts
Let me roll the upper lip
Dont make me pop thangs
Cause I gets off the chain
You dont know me
But youre bout to
Its the real me
And I thought you knew
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready (he coming at you full speed baby, but with a slow motion twist)
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready
I mean I mean ginuwine is so official
Like a referee with a whistle
Better yet like a gangsta with a pistol
So you n****s bettter get ready
Yeah I know
Matter fact g
Give it em doggy style
I know they aint ready but they got to get ready
You do you I do me
And we keep it like a g
Pass me that hennessey
[...] Read more
song performed by Ginuwine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Get Ready (feat. Snoop Dogg & The Rock)
Album: Senior
(feat. Snoop Dogg & The Rook)
You think you know but you have no clue
No idea
You don't know G
I mean you really really don't Know G
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
Hell Yeah ya better get ready
What's cracka lackin
It's the big dog
I'm in the hizzle with my nizzle Gin U izzle
And I mean from playa to playa
It's only right if I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass it to my nephew G
He's bonafide, Qualified, and the ladies would definitely testify
Matter fact G
Holla at them Nephew
Fa Sho
Pass the Hennessey
I'm about to get bent
Toss the box of blunts
Let me roll the upper lip
Don't make me pop thangs
Cause I gets off the chain
You don't know me
But you're bout to
It's the real me
And I thought you knew
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready (he coming at you full speed baby, but with a slow motion twist)
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready
I mean I mean Ginuwine is so official
Like a referee with a whistle
Better yet like a gangsta with a pistol
So you n****s bettter get ready
Yeah I know
Matter fact G
Give it 'em doggy style
I know they ain't ready but they got to get ready
You do you I do me
[...] Read more
song performed by Ginuwine
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Standing In For Joe
Im standing, standing in for joe
Joe called round to ask me, would I do a favor?
While hes gonna be out of town
He says his girl needs company, she gets so restless
Would I keep her safe and sound?
Softly, softly in the night
Why, you can guess the rest...
Now these shoes fit all too well
Standing in for joe
Standing in for joe
Im standing - in for joe
Joe said weve been friends so long
That I would be the one he would trust with his life
And now those words roll round my brain
As darkness falls, as I turn out his bedroom light
Who could resist her tender charms?
So the story goes...
This actor he plays all the parts
Standing in for joe
Standing in for joe
Im standing - in for joe
Love is like a river,
You cannot stop its flow... mmm hmm
Joe called round to ask me, would I do a favor?
While hes gonna be out of town
He says his girl needs company, she gets so restless
Would I check that shes safe and sound?
Softly, softly in the night
Why, you can guess the rest...
Now these shoes fit all too well
Standing in for joe
Im standing in for joe - oh yeah
Im standing in for joe - keep his sweetheart company, yeah
Standing in for joe - just standing in for joe, yeah
Standing in for joe - until he gets back home, yeah
Standing in for joe - gonna keep her insane, yeah
Standing in for joe - gonna keep her safe and sound, yeah
Standing in for joe - keep his sweetheart company, yeah
Standing in for joe - almost full time, which is nice, yeah
Standing in for joe - because she gets so restless
Standing in for joe - always so restless
Standing in for joe - keep his sweetheart company, yeah
Standing in for joe - gonna keep her safe and sound, yeah
Standing in for joe - Im standing in for joe, yeah...
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Standing In For Joe
Im standing, standing in for joe
Joe called round to ask me, would I do a favor?
While hes gonna be out of town
He says his girl needs company, she gets so restless
Would I keep her safe and sound?
Softly, softly in the night
Why, you can guess the rest...
Now these shoes fit all too well
Standing in for joe
Standing in for joe
Im standing - in for joe
Joe said weve been friends so long
That I would be the one he would trust with his life
And now those words roll round my brain
As darkness falls, as I turn out his bedroom light
Who could resist her tender charms?
So the story goes...
This actor he plays all the parts
Standing in for joe
Standing in for joe
Im standing - in for joe
Love is like a river,
You cannot stop its flow... mmm hmm
Joe called round to ask me, would I do a favor?
While hes gonna be out of town
He says his girl needs company, she gets so restless
Would I check that shes safe and sound?
Softly, softly in the night
Why, you can guess the rest...
Now these shoes fit all too well
Standing in for joe
Im standing in for joe - oh yeah
Im standing in for joe - keep his sweetheart company, yeah
Standing in for joe - just standing in for joe, yeah
Standing in for joe - until he gets back home, yeah
Standing in for joe - gonna keep her insane, yeah
Standing in for joe - gonna keep her safe and sound, yeah
Standing in for joe - keep his sweetheart company, yeah
Standing in for joe - almost full time, which is nice, yeah
Standing in for joe - because she gets so restless
Standing in for joe - always so restless
Standing in for joe - keep his sweetheart company, yeah
Standing in for joe - gonna keep her safe and sound, yeah
Standing in for joe - Im standing in for joe, yeah...
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Are You Ready Girl?
Well in this new love that youve found,
Are you positive, are you sure,
And are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Though its fun you talk about[? ],
Its the night life you explore.
And are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
cause youre living with a man
Who will find no understanding.
Do you mind if I layed down and cried?
Do you ever know the way,
That I feel for you each day?
So are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
Are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Hell buy you diamonds, hell buy you rings,
Hell buy your time, hell buy you sin.[? ]
So are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Hell keep you laughing for a while,
Then hell leave you with a smile.
So are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
cause youre living with a man
Who will find no understanding.
Do you mind if I layed down and cried?
Do you ever know the way,
That I feel for you each day?
So are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
Are you ready girl?
Are you ready?
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Standing On The Edge
In the middle of the night
I had a vision
It was bigger than life
Standing on the edge of my bed
She said come here, dont be afraid
Her tongue opened like a shot
Oh bang bang
Ten feet tall, laser eyes
Killer body, killer thighs
She drew me a fine line
Whats wrong whats right
I didnt know what to think
She seemed to know what to drink
I was stunned by her gun
Couldnt walk, couldnt run
Well she drew me a picture
And it seemed so true
Standing on the edge
And watching my life flash by
Standing on the edge
Shes lookin right through my eyes
Love is passin by
Right before my eyes
And Im wondering why
Whats the reason
That Im standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Right here in my face
I had a vision
That was bigger than life
Oh connie likes nighttime, every night
Connie likes candy, every bite
All day sucker, connie might
Swallow that thing cause she does it right
Im weak in the knees
Im beggin you please
Just ask for more
She just wants affection
My soldiers at attention
No I dont know
Why youre doin this to me
Standing on the edge
And watching my life flash by
Standing on the edge
Shes lookin right through my eyes
Love is passin by
Right before my eyes
And Im wondering why
Whats the reason
[...] Read more
song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tale XXI
The Learned Boy
An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and
hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'
[...] Read more
poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
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Walkin' In Jerusalem
Walkin in Jerusalem?
Diamond Rio
Oh John, Oh John what did you say, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'll meet you there on the judgement day, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
...........instrumental..............
(quicker now)
Oh John, Oh John what did you say, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'll meet you there on the judgement day, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
...........instrumental..............
Some come crippled, and some come lame, walking in Jerusalem just like John
Some come walking in Jesus' name, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
....... instrumental........
If you get to heaven before I do, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Tell all my friends I'm coming too, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
........... instrumental...........
Well carrying a load upon your shoulder, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah I'll meet you there at the first crossover, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
REPEAT 2 times
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready LORD
(slow right down)
To ........Walking in Jerusalem.......... Just like John
song performed by Diamond Rio
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Second
I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.
II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.
III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.
IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.
V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Hearts Filthy Lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Theres always the diamond friendly
Sitting in the laugh hotel
The hearts filthy lesson
With her hundred miles to hell
Oh, ramona, if there was only something between us
If there was only something between us
Other than our clothes
Something in our skies
Something in our skies
Something in our blood
Something in our skies
Paddy
Paddy, whos been wearing mirandas clothes?
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Falls upon deaf ears
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Hearts filthy lesson
Falls upon deaf ears
Falls upon dead years
Oh ramona, if there was only some kind of future
Oh ramona, if there was only some kind of future
And these cerulean skies
Something in our skies
Something in our skies
Something in our blood
Something in our skies
Paddy, paddy?
Paddy will you carry me, I think Ive lost my way
Im already five years older Im already in my grave
Im already
Im already
Im already
Will you carry me?
Oh paddy, I think Ive lost my way
Paddy
What a fantastic death abyss
Paddy
What a fantastic death abyss
Its the hearts filthy lesson
Tell the others
Its the hearts filthy lesson
What a fantastic death abyss
Tell the others
Its the hearts filthy lesson
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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