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The toilets at a local police station have been stolen. Police say they have nothing to go on.

quote by Ronnie Barker
Added by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Cards

Every christmas card I write
Every christmas card I write
Has been stolen
Has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Has been stolen
Has been stolen
Every christmas card I write has been stolen
Stolen
Has been stolen
Every christmas card I write
On the little desk in the corner of my room
I find stolen the next day
I find stolen the next day
All of the christmas cards I write
Become stolen the next day
From my room
In my little desk in the corner of my room
Every christmas card I write
Is stolen
Is stolen
Every christmas card I write
Been stolen
From the little desk in the corner of my room
Its been stolen
Every day
Every christmas card I write
Has been stolen from my desk
I dont know why
Its been stolen
Its been stolen
Stolen
Stolen
Stolen
Stolen
Stolen

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Meet Me At The Station

(brother williams memphis sanctified singers)
Well if I get to heaven before you do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, mother dear, for you
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Well if my eyes see the glory, before yours do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, father, for you
I will meet you at the station whe your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Now if my feet touch the homeline before yours do
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, my brother, for you
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Now if you see gods country before I do
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
Will you be there watching, sister, for me
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
When my train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
Sister, when my train comes along
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along

[...] Read more

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rubber Bullets

I went to a party at the local county jail
All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail
But the guys were indiscreet
They were brawling in the street
At the local dance at the local county jail
Well the band were playing
And the booze began to flow
But the sound came over on the police car radio
Down at precinct 49
Having a tear-gas of a time
Sergeant baker got a call from the governor of the county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
I love to hear those convicts squeal
Its a shame these slugs aint real
But we cant have dancin at the local county jail
Sergeant baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail
Theres a rumor goin round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow
At the local hop at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Sergeant baker started talkin
With a bullhorn in his hand
He was cool, he was clear
He was always in command
He said blood will flow;
Here padre
Padre you talk to your boys...
Trust in me -
God will come to set you free
Well we dont understand
Why you called in the national guard
When uncle sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard
We all got balls and brains
But somes got balls and chains
At the local dance at the local county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance at the local county jail
At the local dance at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do

song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Medley: Rubber Bullets/silly Love Songs/life Is A Hinestrone

I went to a party at the local county jail
All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail
But the guys were indiscreet
They were brawling in the street
At the local dance at the local county jail
Well the band were playing
And the booze began to flow
But the sound came over on the police car radio
Down at precinct 49
Having a tear-gas of a time
Sergeant baker got a call from the governor of the county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
I love to hear those convicts squeal
Its a shame these slugs aint real
But we cant have dancin at the local county jail
Sergeant baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail
Theres a rumor goin round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow
At the local hop at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Sergeant baker started talkin
With a bullhorn in his hand
He was cool, he was clear
He was always in command
He said blood will flow;
Here padre
Padre you talk to your boys...
Trust in me -
God will come to set you free
Well we dont understand
Why you called in the national guard
When uncle sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard
We all got balls and brains
But somes got balls and chains
At the local dance at the local county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance at the local county jail
At the local dance at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
===================
10cc - silly love

[...] Read more

song performed by 10 Cc
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Rubber Bullets/sngl/bonus

10cc - rubber bullets
---------------------
I went to a party at the local county jail
All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail
But the guys were indiscreet
They were brawling in the street
At the local dance at the local county jail
Well the band were playing
And the booze began to flow
But the sound came over on the police car radio
Down at precinct 49
Having a tear-gas of a time
Sergeant baker got a call from the governor of the county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
I love to hear those convicts squeal
It's a shame these slugs ain't real
But we can't have dancin' at the local county jail
Sergeant baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail
There's a rumor goin' round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow
At the local hop at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Sergeant baker started talkin'
With a bullhorn in his hand
He was cool, he was clear
He was always in command
He said "blood will flow;
Here padre
Padre you talk to your boys..."
"trust in me -
God will come to set you free"
Well we don't understand
Why you called in the national guard
When uncle sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard
We all got balls and brains
But some's got balls and chains
At the local dance at the local county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance at the local county jail
At the local dance at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do

song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Local Hero

I was driving through my hometown
I was just kinda killin time
When I seen a face staring out of a black velvet painting
From the window of the five and dime
I couldnt quite recall the name
But the pose looked familiar to me
So I asked the salesgirl who was that man
Between the doberman and bruce lee?
She said just a local hero
Local hero she said with a smile
Yeah a local hero he used to live here for a while
I met a stranger dressed in black
At the train station
He said son your soul can be saved
Theres a beautiful women nights of low livin
And some dangerous money to be made
Theres a big town cross the whiskey line
And if we turn the right card up
They make us boss the devil pays off
And them folks that are real hard up
They get their local hero
Somebody with the right style
They get their local hero
Somebody with just the right smile
Well I learned my job I learned it well
Fit myself with religion and a story to tell
First they made me the king then they made me pope
Then they brought the rope
I woke to a gypsy girl sayin drink this
Well my hands had lost all sensation
These days Im feeling all right
cept I cant tell my courage from my desperation
From the tainted chalice
Well I drunk some heady wine
Tonight Im layin here
But theres something in my ear
Sayin theres a little town just beneath the floodline
Needs a local hero
Somebody with the right style
Lookin for a local hero
Someone with the right smile
Local hero local hero she said with a smile
Local hero he used to live here for a while
Lisa lowell, backing vocals
Patti scialfa, backing vocals
Soozie tyrell, backing vocals

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stolen

Let truth be told
Until its sold
Silence is golden
Too bad its all been stolen
Stolen! stolen! stolen!
Our defense is your defense
Your defense in some sense
Some sensless way unfolded
Folded cause its all been stolen
Stolen! stolen! stolen!
The gilded scale was burning
Just as your back was turning
Just as our trust was leaving
Youd have us all believing
These truths we hold
Self-evident
Bought and sold
The more you hunt the more I sing
Then quickly rewrite everything
Truth returns bloated, swollen
Then dissapears - its been stolen!
Stolen!
The gilded scale was burning
Just as your back was turning
Just as our trust was leaving
Youd have us all believing
These truths we hold
Self-evident
Bought and sold
Its all been stolen! [x2]

song performed by Ministry
Added by Lucian Velea
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They were only doing their duty (Two ballades with a prologue)

I. Prologue: Four days of terror

The arrest was just before five o’clock
on a Thursday afternoon,
with one white and one black constable
waiting at his work
and when he returned from business
cuffing him and searching his body
and taking him into custody.

The employer notified his relatives,
seeing the incident
as a blot on the company’s name
and then his job was hanging in balance
and the charges was
based on a false affidavit
made by stepson
on persuasion of the mother in law

and where his car had been stolen,
criminals had broken into his rented house
and robbed him of the TV, DVD-player,
hifi and everything valuable
no arrest was ever made
and the police was only doing their job
and will tell you
that another unit
is responsible for robberies
and hijackings
passing the buck endlessly.

Three days elapsed before a bail hearing
as the black state attorney
was that Friday busy
with another case
in another town
while he was innocently locked up.

It is no joke being innocent and locked up
in a police cell with eighteen other people
with one toilet,
in the middle of the room,
no shower,
no bathing facilities, dirt everywhere
and lice jumping into your hair,

not being able to close your eyes
and knowing if you will be safe
from a attack from any of them

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Zoo Station

Im ready
Ready for the laughing gas
Im ready
Ready for whats next
Ready to duck
Ready to dive
Ready to say
Im glad to be alive
Im ready
Im ready for the push
In the cool of the night
The wartmth of the breeze
Ill be crawling around
On my hands and knees
Shes just down the line ... zoo station
Got to make it on time ... zoo station
Im ready
Im ready for the gridlock
Im ready
To take it to the street
Ready for the shuffle
Ready for the deal
Ready to let go
Of the steering wheel
Im ready
Ready for the crush
Alright, alright, alright, alright, alright
Its alright...its alright...its alright...its alright
Hey baby...hey baby...hey baby...hey baby
Its alright
Its alright
Time is a train
Makes the future the past
Leaves you standing in the station
Your face pressed up against the glass
Im just down the line from your love...zoo station
Under the sign of your love...zoo station
Im gonna be there...zoo station
Tracing the line...zoo station
Im gonna make it on time...make it on time...zoo station
Just two stops down the line...zoo station
Just a stops down the line...zoo station

song performed by U2
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dream Police

Words and music by rick nielsen
The dream police, they live inside of my head.
The dream police, they come to me in my bed.
The dream police, theyre coming to arrest me, oh no.
You know that talk is cheap, and those rumors aint nice.
And when I fall asleep I dont think Ill survive the night, the night.
cause theyre waiting for me.
Theyre looking for me.
Evry single night theyre driving me insane.
Those men inside my brain.
The dream police, they live inside of my head.
(live inside of my head.)
The dream police, they come to me in my bed.
(come to me in my bed.)
The dream police, theyre coming to arrest me, oh no.
Well, I cant tell lies, cause theyre listening to me.
And when I fall asleep, bet theyre spying on me tonight, tonight.
cause theyre waiting for me.
Theyre looking for me.
Evry single night theyre driving me insane.
Those men inside my brain.
I try to sleep, theyre wide awake, they wont leave me alone.
They dont get paid to take vacations, or let me alone.
They spy on me, I try to hide, they wont let me alone.
They persecute me, theyre the judge and jury all in one.
cause theyre waiting for me.
Theyre looking for me.
Evry single night theyre driving me insane.
Those men inside my brain.
The dream police, they live inside of my head.
The dream police, they come to me in my bed.
The dream police, theyre coming to arrest me.

song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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W. M. A.

He won the lottery when he was born
Took his mothers white breast to his tongue
Trained like dogs, color and smell
Walks by me to get to him police man (2x)
He won the lottery by being born
Big hand slapped a white male merican
Do no wrong, so clean cut...
Dirty his hands, it comes right off
Police man (2x)
Police stopped my brother again (3x)
Police man (2x)
Jesus greets me...looks just like me...
Do no wrong, so clean cut
Dirty his hands, it comes right off
Police man (3x)
Police stopped my brother again (3x)
Police man (2x)
Police stopped my brother again (3x)
Police man (3x)
All my pieces set me free...human devices set me free...
All my pieces set me free... (2x) } (2x)
Human devices set me free... (2x) }

song performed by Pearl Jam
Added by Lucian Velea
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Short; Silly: Ode To A Commode...Or....A Poem About Toilets

modern 'toilets' are large flushable porcelain bowls
which catch waste from both your and my exit holes.
i'm used to white ones with large flush-water tank.
a hidden pipe carries off stuff that often does smell rank.

some in japan were quite different……with no way to sit!
i'm glad i found 'my style' when t'was time to shit.
and if from toilet-paper usage you're leaning,
some toilets have the choice of an in-bowl shower, for cleaning.

toilet seats are sometimes colored, or cushioned, or even heated;
for me, more important (at times) is JUST to be SEATED!

toilets have changed since they were just holes in the ground.
i hope, when i 'need' a toilet, one's always around!

(4-4-2010)

poem by Bri Edwards
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A Royal Flush!

The ‘Assuies’ are levying a tax on water output, so called the ‘flushing tax’,
Some are not flushing as much do reduce their water bill,
Some are going “outside” in their outback, if you will,
In this world wide economic slow down you can’t be lax.
Some businesses are getting to point of developing ‘waterless toilets’,
The composting toilets are great for saving water and money,
They come in a variety of styles and you have much to gain,

With the average household flushing up to 35,000 litres of potable water down the drain each year,
Ecoflo waterless toilets will save you from flushing water and money down the drain.

This is about as good as it gets,
I hope that this will not lead banning of the term flushing,
Because where will the USTA US Open be played?
In Compost Meadows?
That doesn’t sound right.

(2-21-09)

poem by Joe Rosochacki
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The Farewell

Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage

Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool sprmg where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,

[...] Read more

poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother

Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage

Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool spring where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;

[...] Read more

poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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The Restaurant Keeper

In the City of Toronto there was once
a restaurant owned by a man named Imre Finta.
Born in 1912 in Austria-Hungary, Finta spent
his years of youth in my hometown Szeged,
immigrating to Canada after the Second World War.

Settling in Toronto, in 1953 Finta bought
the Candlelight Restaurant but it did not go well,
so he closed it. Then he opened The Moulin Rouge
on Avenue Road at DuPont Street.
The old fashioned Hungarian gentleman greeted
his guests warmly, politely kissing the right hand
of his female patrons.

I had never dined at the Moulin Rouge
but I encountered Finta in a brickyard and
at the railway station of Szeged in the summer
of 1944. At that time I was eight years old
and Finta, aged 32, was a Captain
of the Royal Hungarian Gendarmerie.
He was also a Nazi collaborator who supervised
the deportation of 8,617 Jews to slave labour lagers
and death camps. I was one of them.

A few months earlier, on March 19,1944,
the German Army occupied Hungary
and Adolf Eichmann arrived in Budapest.
His Mission was to implement in Hungary
the “Final Solution”, a Euphemism the Nazis
used to disguise the mass murder of the Jews.

In June 1944, swearing gendarmes pushed
a group of Jewish prisoners from the ersatz ghetto
of Kistelek onto a freight train. My mother,
my three year old sister Vera and I were
among them. We travelled thirty kilometres to
Szeged where the gendarmes led us to
an abandoned brick factory that was turned into
a makeshift concentration camp.

The brickyard camp commandant was
SS captain Angermayer, whom I remember
as a tall and lanky silhouette moving among
the prisoners in a black uniform.
He was assisted by ruthless gendarmes
in cock-feathered hats, armed with
bayoneted rifles and swords,
who terrorized the captives.

Living conditions in the makeshift ghetto

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Hartal
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Police intimidation

Today while in Springs
walking on the sidewalk
on my way to home
there was a police roadblock

put up right over the main road
just at Werda School
where you leave the shopping area
where eight armed policemen were standing

and when I got a call
from a wrong number
the one in the middle of the road
rushes to me; saying that I have taken a photograph of him

and the whole lot of them close around me,
I am even grabbed
with a hand into the back of my pants
that holds onto my belt,

I am searched
with hands being put
into my pockets
and my two cellular phones are taken

whereupon I say to them
that I have broken no law
and I am taking record of police intimidation
and a black police captain

(if military ranks are the same)
grab onto my arms holding them
and say that he is going to lock me up
and he stands so near to my face

that I am able to smell his sour breathe.
Whereupon I say to him
that I have broken no law,
that he has no grounds for arrest

and that touching me
is as good as assault
and then a white policeman
with two stars (a military lieutenant’s rank) walks nearer

and the captain let go of my arms,
some of the group gathered around me stands back
but the one at my back
is still holding on to me

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Night The City Cried

*police radio* (humming)
(u-god)
Night falling, red dawn, without warning or beef
Late night city life, in the dark manhattan fog, creep
Wit cats and dogs become meat
All that is sacred
My body lay naked
Aching for some weeks, maybe it was a hostage taken
Some money making jamaican
High for thuggery disgrace on did him ugly, kicked his bloody face in
Maybe he was mistaken for some great man
In a dirty place he lay in a gray basement
Shaking his scabs, crack bag, stabbed up four times, strong!
With a long rusty jason
Dumped the smoldering corpse in a dumpster truck of garbage
In this mad man hell he laid in
Logical was hatred
Some replacement killer came through, left small traces
Engraved his chest
Left him for death
Left him on his last breath
Crawling, just to make a statement (hu hu huh)
In this matrix
Subconsciously gazing the soft shell of a man
Somehow found, amazing!
By the department of sanitation
Under city lights to the hospital
Hit him with the chest rockers, shockers
Pop him open just to keep his heart racing (clear)
(chorus)
Will he make it?
Will he survive?
Terror in his eyes
Night the city cries
Payback is crime
He damn near died
Banished my wounds not mine
The city cries, drama ride
Guns out the window, slide
Before me now the city cries
(u-god)
Unconscious for months (beep beep)
Deep in coma shock
When you awoke, it was hope
Dry throat
Choking off tools, being fed ice cubes
Pain in you head
Change of the bed
Doped up and soaking while police on top
Doctors monitor your heart (heart beating)

[...] Read more

song performed by U-god
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love In Vain

(Robert Johnson)
I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand
And I followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand
Well it's hard to tell it's hard to tell, when all your love's in vain
All my love's in vain
When the train rolled up to the station, I looked her in the eye
When the train rolled up to the station, and I looked her in the eye
Well I was lonesome I felt so lonesome, and I could not help but cry
All my love's in vain
When the train it left the station, 't was two lights on behind
When the train it left the station, 't was two lights on behind
Well the blue light was my blues and the red light was my mind
All my love's in vain
Ooh... [vocalized verse]
All my love's in vain

song performed by Eric Clapton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Terrapin Station

Terrapin station - lady with a fan
Let my inspiration flow in token rhyme, suggesting rhythm,
That will not forsake you, till my tale is told and done.
While the firelights aglow, strange shadows from the flames will grow,
Till things weve never seen will seem familiar.
Shadows of a sailor, forming winds both foul and fair all swarm.
Down in carlisle, he loved a lady many years ago.
Here beside him stands a man, a soldier from the looks of him,
Who came through many fights, but lost at love.
While the story teller speaks, a door within the fire creaks;
Suddenly flies open, and a girl is standing there.
Eyes alight, with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair,
She takes her fan and throws it, in the lions den.
Which of you to gain me, tell, will risk uncertain pains of hell?
I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance.
The sailor gave at least a try, the soldier being much too wise,
Strategy was his strength, and not disaster.
The sailor, coming out again, the lady fairly leapt at him.
Thats how it stands today. you decide if he was wise.
The story teller makes no choice. soon you will not hear his voice.
His job is to shed light, and not to master.
Since the end is never told, we pay the teller off in gold,
In hopes he will return, but he cannot be bought or sold.
Terrapin station
Inspiration, move me brightly. light the song with sense and color;
Hold away despair, more than this I will not ask.
Faced with mysteries dark and vast, statements just seem vain at last.
Some rise, some fall, some climb, to get to terrapin.
Counting stars by candlelight, all are dim but one is bright;
The spiral light of venus, rising first and shining best,
On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon,
While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune,
Terrapin station.
In the shadow of the moon, terrapin station.
And I know well get there soon, terrapin station.
I cant figure out, terrapin, if its the end or beginning, terrapin,
But the trains put its brakes on, terrapin,
And the whistle is screaming, terrapin.
Terrapin station - at the siding
While you were gone, these faces filled with darkness.
The obvious was hidden. with nothing to believe in,
Sullen wings of fortune beat like rain.
Youre back in terrapin for good or ill again, for good or ill again.

song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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