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The most wasted day is that in which we have not laughed.

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Wasted

Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
Im so wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
Or who I am
I thought I could make it on my own
I thought I was indestructible
I had an excuse cause i was young
I thought I was so untouchable
I would throw it all away
I would throw my life away
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
Im so wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
I couldnt admit that I was wrong
I didnt fit in didnt belong
I was young
I was stupid
A life of despair
I was proud
I was angry
I just didnt care
I was everything I never wanted to be
I became my enemy
I would throw it all away
I would throw my life away
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
Im so wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
or who I am
They Said I had potential
They said I got whats coming to me
They say I got the devil (the devil)
and I dont know whats wrong with me
whats wrong with me
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
So wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
So wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
Cause Im wasted again (so wasted)
Im wasted again (so wasted)
Im wasted again (so wasted)
Im wasted again (so wasted)
(so wasted)

[...] Read more

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A Song of Wrong [ You Laughed and Laughed and Laughed ]

In your eyes
My song is one of wrong
Intruding into your heart
And you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
In your heart, you knew
I could be there,
Cause you brought me here.
And you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
In your soul,
You knew I want you
In my home.
'cause you brought me hope.
And you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
You laughed at my wrong
You laughed at my right.
You laughed over
Everything I do.
.
And now, my love I give to you
But you shut your eyes and
Laughed and laughed
And laughed.
.
You laughed at my walk
You laughed at my song.
.
You walked your walk
Into my life of wrong
Knowing all along
You could change me in all.
.
But you shot your heart
To my love
And you walked away from
My heart, and you laughed
And laughed and laughed.

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A Last Confession

Our Lombard country-girls along the coast
Wear daggers in their garters: for they know
That they might hate another girl to death
Or meet a German lover. Such a knife
I bought her, with a hilt of horn and pearl.
Father, you cannot know of all my thoughts
That day in going to meet her,—that last day
For the last time, she said;—of all the love
And all the hopeless hope that she might change
And go back with me. Ah! and everywhere,
At places we both knew along the road,
Some fresh shape of herself as once she was
Grew present at my side; until it seemed—
So close they gathered round me—they would all
Be with me when I reached the spot at last,
To plead my cause with her against herself
So changed. O Father, if you knew all this
You cannot know, then you would know too, Father,
And only then, if God can pardon me.
What can be told I'll tell, if you will hear.
I passed a village-fair upon my road,
And thought, being empty-handed, I would take
Some little present: such might prove, I said,
Either a pledge between us, or (God help me!)
A parting gift. And there it was I bought
The knife I spoke of, such as women wear.
That day, some three hours afterwards, I found
For certain, it must be a parting gift.
And, standing silent now at last, I looked
Into her scornful face; and heard the sea
Still trying hard to din into my ears
Some speech it knew which still might change her heart,
If only it could make me understand.
One moment thus. Another, and her face
Seemed further off than the last line of sea,
So that I thought, if now she were to speak
I could not hear her. Then again I knew
All, as we stood together on the sand
At Iglio, in the first thin shade o' the hills.
“Take it,” I said, and held it out to her,
While the hilt glanced within my trembling hold;
“Take it and keep it for my sake,” I said.
Her neck unbent not, neither did her eyes
Move, nor her foot left beating of the sand;
Only she put it by from her and laughed.
Father, you hear my speech and not her laugh;
But God heard that. Will God remember all?
It was another laugh than the sweet sound
Which rose from her sweet childish heart, that day
Eleven years before, when first I found her

[...] Read more

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Song of Wink Star

The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008

☼ ☼

☼ Preamble

Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…

Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…

Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…

O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….

Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….


The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages


☼ 1


Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.

And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.

Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.

Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.

[...] Read more

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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

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Otis Redding

Do you remember when we were hungry?
Do you remember when we were cold?
Do you remember when we were happy?
Do you remember? do you remember?
Do you remember when we were lucky?
We were livin the life almost every night
I would wrap you in my thin white arms
Sit and watch the stars glide
Yeah, do you remember when we were the losers?
Do you remember when we were the lame?
Do you remember when we were the lepers?
Do you remember? do you remember?
Do you remember when we were strung out?
Eatin top ramen, macaroni and cheese
We would get so lost in that basement room
Let the otis redding sing us to sleep
I wish I had one more life
I dont wanna be wasted
I dont wanna live inside this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be blind
I dont wanna be wasted
I dont wanna live inside this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be (blind)
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be (blind)
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be blind
I wish I could be like all my heroes
I wish I could be like all yours too
I wish I could sing like otis redding
I wish I could play this guitar in tune
Do you remember when we were hungry?
Do you remember when we were cold?
Do you remember when we were happy in a way
No one outside could ever know?
I wish I had one more life
How I wish I had one more life to live
I dont wanna be wasted
I dont wanna live inside of this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be (blind)
I dont wanna be wasted
No, I dont wanna live inside of this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be blind
No, I dont want to be blind
No, I dont want to be blind

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Wasted Years

Wasted years been brainwashed by lies
Oh yes I have
Oh wasted years
Im talking about wasted years
Oh Im not seeing eye-to-eye
I just cant see the things I should see
Wasted years, baby
I was taking the wrong advice
I know you was, I know you was
And I was too
All alone Im travelling
Travelling through these wasted years
For so long, so long, so long I was
Oh, I must have gained some wisdom
Down through the years I did
Somewhere along the way
Oh yes, I did, oh yes I did
Thets why there cant be no more
No more
No more wasted years today
I got wise, I got wise to myself
Well baby the great sadness
Oh, youve got to let it all go
Oh yeah, oh yeah van
Live in the present
Live in the future john lee, aint that so
Oh, its a sad feeling, oh yeah
Oh, youve gotta find something
To carry you through, carry you through,
Carry you through
Ive learned my lesson
I aint gonna do it no more, yeah
Now van
Now john
Ive learned my lesson
I should have a long time ago
Thats right
All these wasted years, wasted years
I finally woke up and got wise
I aint gonna be, aint gonna be no fool no more
Now van, now van
Aint gonna be nobodys bodys fool no more
Sing the song van, sing it with me
Well all alone, all alone Ive been travelling
Yeah
Travelling all along through these wasted years
Dark, dark wasted years
So dark here
Dark, dark, dark, dark wasted years
I must have gained something

[...] Read more

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Wasted (original Demo)

Oh, somebody else is looking up
Oh, somebody else is showing how you do it
I never fall in love
I just fall out of it
I never get enough
I just say enough of this
And I've had enough of this
Wasted words you gave me
Wasted talk is cheap
Wasted, I think your eyes are killing me
Wasted somewhere in between
Oh, another fight is going down
Oh, and nobody else is making a sound
I always say too much
I always miss the bus
I never get enough
I just say enough of this
I've had enough of this
Wasted words you gave me
Wasted talk is cheap
Wasted, I think your eyes are killing me
Wasted somewhere in between
Oh, I guess I'm breaking through
Oh, and it's all the same without you
I never fell in love
I just fell out of it
I never had enough
I just had enough of this
I've had enough of this
Wasted words you gave me
Wasted talk is cheap
Wasted, I think your eyes are killing me
Wasted somewhere

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Wasted

Wasted
I'm so wasted
empty since you left me
I still need him and want him
without him I'm nothing
if I can't do something
to get him to come home on to me

Wasted
love's been wasted
guess I'm not too brainy
I was selfish and foolish
I used and abused him
and laughed when he threatened to walk out
but now he's done it

He was like the moon
he had his darker side
but he could be the sun
shinning in the light

Wasted
sure I'm wasted
knowing he don't love me
such a sad thing about him
to know that I love him
and nothing I say or I do will return
say I'm wasted

He was like the moon
he had his darker side
but he could be the sun
shinning in the light

Wasted
sure I'm wasted
knowing he don't love me
wasted
sure I'm wasted
knowing he don't love me..

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All Day Sucker

Come on up you say
Cause you can feel your love comin down
I find myself rushin over to
Do something for your love
I knock on the door
You answer askin what am I there for
I say I thought you wanted me to
Do something for your love
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something to get nothin
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something but to get none of your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
You call me up to say
Youre sorry for what went down the other day
And could I come over today
Do something for your love
One knuck gets me in
But then you say how very nice its been
That lets me know that I will once again
Get nothin fom your love
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something to get nothin
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something but to get none of your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
You drop by to say
Youre sorry for what went down the other day

[...] Read more

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Domino Dancing

(tennant/lowe)
-----------------
(all day, all day)
I dont know why, I dont know how
I thought I loved you, but Im not sure now
Ive seen you look at strangers too many times
A love-you-once is of a, a different kind
Remember when we felt the sun
A love like paradise, how hot it burned
A threat of distant thunder, the sky was red
And when you walked, you always - turned every head
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
I thought that when we fought I was to blame
But now I know you play a different game
Ive watched you dance with danger, still wanting more
Add another number to the score
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
When you look around you wonder
Do you play to win?
Or are you just a bad loser?
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day, domino dancing)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
I dont know why, I dont know how
Id thought I loved you, but Im not sure now
I hear the thunder crashing, the sky is dark
And now a storm is breaking within my heart
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day, domino dancing)
(all day, all daeheheheheheheh)
(all day, all daeheheheheheheh)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
(domino dancing)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day, domino dancing)
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down

[...] Read more

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The Bride's Prelude

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte
To listless Aloÿse;
“Along your wedding-road the wheat
Bends as to hear your horse's feet,
And the noonday stands still for heat.”
Amelotte laughed into the air
With eyes that sought the sun:
But where the walls in long brocade
Were screened, as one who is afraid
Sat Aloÿse within the shade.
And even in shade was gleam enough
To shut out full repose
From the bride's 'tiring-chamber, which
Was like the inner altar-niche
Whose dimness worship has made rich.
Within the window's heaped recess
The light was counterchanged
In blent reflexes manifold
From perfume-caskets of wrought gold
And gems the bride's hair could not hold,
All thrust together: and with these
A slim-curved lute, which now,
At Amelotte's sudden passing there,
Was swept in somewise unaware,
And shook to music the close air.
Against the haloed lattice-panes
The bridesmaid sunned her breast;
Then to the glass turned tall and free,
And braced and shifted daintily
Her loin-belt through her côte-hardie.
The belt was silver, and the clasp
Of lozenged arm-bearings;
A world of mirrored tints minute
The rippling sunshine wrought into 't,
That flushed her hand and warmed her foot.
At least an hour had Aloÿse—
Her jewels in her hair—
Her white gown, as became a bride,
Quartered in silver at each side—
Sat thus aloof, as if to hide.
Over her bosom, that lay still,
The vest was rich in grain,
With close pearls wholly overset:
Around her throat the fastenings met
Of chevesayle and mantelet.
Her arms were laid along her lap
With the hands open: life
Itself did seem at fault in her:
Beneath the drooping brows, the stir
Of thought made noonday heavier.

[...] Read more

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Elegantly Wasted

Look at all that shines
Babys down on the world and she knows it
If your spirits running
Why dont we make it in the rain like we used to
We run
We hide
We wait and we want
The good life
Aw sure
Youre right
This aint, the good life
Ah, elegantly wasted
Ah, elegantly wasted
Look at all the crimes
Babys down on the world cause she owns it
Making up her life
Nothing more nothing less makes it voodoo
We run
We hide
We wait and we want
The good life
Aw sure
Youre right
This aint, the good life
Ah, elegantly wasted
Ah, elegantly wasted
Well look at all that shines
Babys down on the world and she knows it
If your spirits fine
Why dont we make it in the rain like we used to
We run
We hide
We wait and we want
The good life
Aw sure
Youre right
This aint, the good life
Ah, elegantly wasted you could be right,
You could be certain
You could be right
Ah, elegantly wasted
Ah, elegantly wasted feels like feels like
Elegantly wasted you could be right
Elegantly wasted you could be certain
Elegantly wasted you could be right
Feels right, feels right

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The Ballad of the White Horse

DEDICATION

Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?

Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?

In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.

Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.

Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.

Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.

Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.

But who shall look from Alfred's hood

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The Course Of Time. Book X.

God of my fathers! holy, just, and good!
My God! my Father! my unfailing Hope!
Jehovah! let the incense of my praise,
Accepted, burn before thy mercy seat,
And in thy presence burn both day and night.
Maker! Preserver! my Redeemer! God!
Whom have I in the heavens but Thee alone?
On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whom love?
For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld
By thy omnipotence; and from thy grace,
Unbought, unmerited, though not unsought—
The wells of thy salvation, hast refreshed
My spirit, watering it, at morn and even!
And by thy Spirit, which thou freely givest
To whom thou wilt, hast led my venturous song,
Over the vale, and mountain tract, the light
And shade of man; into the burning deep
Descending now, and now circling the mount,
Where highest sits Divinity enthroned;
Rolling along the tide of fluent thought,
The tide of moral, natural, divine;
Gazing on past, and present, and again,
On rapid pinion borne, outstripping Time,
In long excursion, wandering through the groves
Unfading, and the endless avenues,
That shade the landscape of eternity;
And talking there with holy angels met,
And future men, in glorious vision seen!
Nor unrewarded have I watched at night,
And heard the drowsy sound of neighbouring sleep;
New thought, new imagery, new scenes of bliss
And glory, unrehearsed by mortal tongue,
Which, unrevealed, I trembling, turned and left,
Bursting at once upon my ravished eye,
With joy unspeakable, have filled my soul,
And made my cup run over with delight;
Though in my face, the blasts of adverse winds,
While boldly circumnavigating man,
Winds seeming adverse, though perhaps not so,
Have beat severely; disregarded beat,
When I behind me heard the voice of God,
And his propitious Spirit say,—Fear not.
God of my fathers! ever present God!
This offering more inspire, sustain, accept;
Highest, if numbers answer to the theme;
Best answering if thy Spirit dictate most.
Jehovah! breathe upon my soul; my heart
Enlarge; my faith increase; increase my hope;
My thoughts exalt; my fancy sanctify,
And all my passions, that I near thy throne

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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

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The Moat House

PART I

I

UNDER the shade of convent towers,
Where fast and vigil mark the hours,
From childhood into youth there grew
A maid as fresh as April dew,
And sweet as May's ideal flowers,

Brighter than dawn in wind-swept skies,
Like children's dreams most pure, unwise,
Yet with a slumbering soul-fire too,
That sometimes shone a moment through
Her wondrous unawakened eyes.


The nuns, who loved her coldly, meant
The twig should grow as it was bent;
That she, like them, should watch youth's bier,
Should watch her day-dreams disappear,
And go the loveless way they went.


The convent walls were high and grey;
How could Love hope to find a way
Into that citadel forlorn,
Where his dear name was put to scorn,
Or called a sinful thing to say?


Yet Love did come; what need to tell
Of flowers downcast, that sometimes fell
Across her feet when dreamily
She paced, with unused breviary,
Down paths made still with August's spell--


Of looks cast through the chapel grate,
Of letters helped by Love and Fate,
That to cold fingers did not come
But lay within a warmer home,
Upon her heart inviolate?


Somehow he loved her--she loved him:
Then filled her soul's cup to the brim,
And all her daily life grew bright
With such a flood of rosy light
As turned the altar candles dim.

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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

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They All Laughed

The odds were a hundred to one against me
The world thought the heights were too high to climb
But people from missouri never incensed me
Oh, I wasnt a bit concerned
For from histry I had learned
How many, many times the worm had turned
They all laughed at christopher columbus
When he said the world was round
They all laughed when edison recorded sound
They all laughed at wilbur and his brother
When they said that man could fly
They told marconi
Wireless was a phony
Its the same old cry
They laughed at me wanting you
Said I was reaching for the moon
But oh, you came through
Now theyll have to change their tune
They all said we never could be happy
They laughed at us and how!
But ho, ho, ho!
Whos got the last laugh now?
They all laughed at rockefeller center
Now theyre fighting to get in
They all laughed at whitney and his cotton gin
They all laughed at fulton and his steamboat
Hershey and his chocolate bar
Ford and his lizzie
Kept the laughers busy
Thats how people are
They laughed at me wanting you
Said it would be, hello, goodbye.
But oh, you came through
Now theyre eating humble pie
They all said wed never get together
Darling, lets take a bow
For ho, ho, ho!
Whos got the last laugh?
Hee, hee, hee!
Lets at the past laugh
Ha, ha, ha!
Whos got the last laugh now?

song performed by Ella FitzgeraldReport problemRelated quotes
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Squire Hawkins's Story

I hain't no hand at tellin' tales,
Er spinnin' yarns, as the sailors say;
Someway o' 'nother, language fails
To slide fer me in the oily way
That LAWYERS has; and I wisht it would,
Fer I've got somepin' that I call good;
But bein' only a country squire,
I've learned to listen and admire,
Ruther preferrin' to be addressed
Than talk myse'f--but I'll do my best:--

Old Jeff Thompson--well, I'll say,
Was the clos'test man I ever saw!--
Rich as cream, but the porest pay,
And the meanest man to work fer--La!
I've knowed that man to work one 'hand'--
Fer little er nothin', you understand--
From four o'clock in the morning light
Tel eight and nine o'clock at night,
And then find fault with his appetite!
He'd drive all over the neighberhood
To miss the place where a toll-gate stood,
And slip in town, by some old road
That no two men in the county knowed,
With a jag o' wood, and a sack o' wheat,
That wouldn't burn and you couldn't eat!
And the trades he'd make, 'll I jest de-clare,
Was enough to make a preacher swear!
And then he'd hitch, and hang about
Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out,
And then the turnpike he'd turn in
And sneak his way back home ag'in!

Some folks hint, and I make no doubt,
That that's what wore his old wife out--
Toilin' away from day to day
And year to year, through heat and cold,
Uncomplainin'--the same old way
The martyrs died in the days of old;
And a-clingin', too, as the martyrs done,
To one fixed faith, and her ONLY one,--
Little Patience, the sweetest child
That ever wept unrickonciled,
Er felt the pain and the ache and sting
That only a mother's death can bring.

Patience Thompson!--I think that name
Must 'a' come from a power above,
Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same
As a GAITER would, er a fine kid glove!

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