Thought is made in the mouth.
quote by Tristan Tzara
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Mouth To Mouth
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
A legend is what you bought
I give you cold water,
And you swear it was wine
You bought time
If you can fool yourself,
Then why not them?
Just keep passing it,
Mouth to mouth to mouth
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
A legend is what you bought
I give you cold water,
And you swear it was wine
You bought time
If you can fool yourself,
Then why not them?
Just keep passing it,
Mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
Bring it out, bring it out
Ahhhhey!
You tied the knot,
Peeled your skin off,
Leave a bungle of nerves
I give you a wet noodle,
You swear that it was my tongue
A sharp one
Instead of that same old
Mouth to mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, I cant bring him back to life
Bring it out, bring it out
Ahhhhey!
Ahhhhey!
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Ahhhhey!
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth
Mouth to mouth to mouth to mouth
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life
I can dress up the dead man, but I cant bring him back to life ...
This is getting old
[...] Read more
song performed by Faith No More
Added by Lucian Velea
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Heaven In My Mouth Tonight
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
The Kingdom of our God is here
Heaven is in my heart
The presence of his majesty
Heaven is in my heart
And in his presence joy abounds
Heaven is in my heart
The light of holiness surround
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
We are a temple for his throne
Heaven is in my heart
And Christ is the foundation stone
Heaven is in my heart
He will return to take us home
Heaven is in my heart
The Spirit and the Bride say come
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh...
Heaven is in my heart
Oh....
Heaven is in my heart
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Carrolling II-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song
Carolling II
He Thought He Saw
He thought he saw new Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and found it was
a mirage for each year
sees more control, “what rôle, ” he said,
“for values once held dear?
Some track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.'
He dreamt he saw spam disappear,
all consultations free,
he looked again and found it was
a spybot lottery.
“Is net neutrality”, he said,
“from rash risks viral clear? ”
He dreamt that Microsoft would steer
all trash deleted fast,
then woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.
He thought he saw a friend’s hello,
with an attachment piece,
he looked again and found it was
the porno scanning police.
“Politically correct”, he said,
“can’t guarantee release.”
He opened it, discovered though,
a trojan horse to fleece –
he looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice hoarse and low:
'when will our worries cease? ”
He thought he saw a hierophant,
who’d deal successful life,
he looked again and found it was
subpoena from ex-wife
demanding child support, he said,
“cards are cut by Time’s knife.”
He looked once more with rage and rant
and swore like a fishwife
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Mouth
You gave me this
made me give
your silver grin
still sticking it in
you have soul machine
soul machine
the longest kiss
peeling furniture days
drift madly to you
pollute my heart drain
you have broken at me
broken me
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth
your loaded smiles
pretty just desserts
wish it all for you
so much it never hurts
you have soul machine
stone at me
all your mental armor drags me down
we can't breathe when you come around
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth mouth
mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
we've been missing long before
never found our way home
we've been missing long before
where we'll find our way
you gave me this
made me give
you have soul machine
broken free
all your mental armor drags me down
we can't breathe when you come around
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth mouth
mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
all your mental armor
all your mental armor
and your mouth
mouth
song performed by Bush from Razorblade Suitcase
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carrolling - Parody Lewis CARROLL – The Mad Gardener’s Song
He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.
He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.
He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,
he opened to discover, though,
a trojan horse release –
He looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice timbre low:
‘I’ll send for the Police! ”
He thought he saw a heirophant
predicting happy life.
He looked again, with rage and rant
discovered from ex-wife
an email angry claiming scant
support, which threatened strife:
“At length I see the immanent
attraction of Time’s knife! ”
He dreamt he saw as he awake
the euro reach a peak,
he saw he dreamt that Bush half bake
would leave the dollar weak: -
he woke to find what grave mistake
was made for the next week
the politicians put a stake
in budget – rocked boats leak!
He thought he saw Commission clerk
jump on bandwagon bus,
he looked again, just for a lark,
and found no tinker’s cuss
the former cared for bite was bark -
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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She Thought She Saw-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song
She Thought She Saw
She thought she saw quite equal pay
afforded equal work,
she looked again and found it was
a most unusual quirk.
“That men should keep their cake, ” she said,
“and eat it too, must irk.”
She thought she saw that light of day
would filter through each jerk,
she looked again and found it was
belief most held beserk.
“That men should nappies change, ” she said,
“would wipe off every smirk! ”
She thought she saw fair interplay
where men would never shirk,
she looked again and found it was
a most miasmic murk
where rights were flouted, - “Hey! ” she said,
“men stand, wait, feeble lurk! ”
(15 April 2007 Parody Lewis CARROLL Some Hallucinations
The Mad Gardener's Dream Sylvie and Bruno Ch.5 See below Carolling and Carolling II)
Carolling
He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.
He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.
He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Word Of Mouth
Ive been trying to get a message to you,
But the operator cant put me through,
Because the vandals went and wrecked all the telephones.
And all my enemies are spreading bad news,
You wont call me, thats why Im calling you,
To put you straight about the rumors theyre spreading about me back home.
I should have known, sooner or later,
Youd get the news, sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
Somehow we lost communication,
My only chance in my situation,
Is that the word of mouth gets my message through.
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth says that Ive gone insane,
That wine and women have affected my brain.
Well whos the big mouth spreading the news again?
The word of mouth says Im round the bend,
Its all over, this is the end.
Exaggeration sure gets the better of people who send[? ].
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth said I should be put in my place.
The word is out Im in disgrace -- a waste of space.
But if they say it, say it to my face.
People talking, trying to dig up the dirt,
There are so many lies around.
They spread their gossip and the rumors around this town.
Word of mouth, face to face,
My word of mouth has stated my case,
And Im saying Im coming back home to you.
You should have know sooner or later,
Youd get the news sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
The word of mouth,
Shut your mouth,
Shut your face!
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks
1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,
That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass
Under the old trees with rosy fruit.
In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a
basket,
The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.
Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.
Fayne snatched for it and missed;
Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small
Finely cut features in a dance of delight;
Fayne with one sweep flung at his face
All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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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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The Court Of Love
With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.
The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right
No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.
Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,
That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.
But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Second Book
TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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You Run Your Mouth (And I'll Run My Business)
(words and music by Armstrong)
Who doubt say, who doubt when I say, who doubt...
You cats keep beetin' up your chops
I had turn you over to the cops
I dig this spiel I'm going way on your gate
Don't cop your broom pop or buddy or mate
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You tell everybody I'm busted
You talk so much you got me disgusted
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
Yeh, you run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You start up telling me you're my pal
End up telling how to handle my gal
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You run your juicy mouth and I'll run my business brother
You run your juicy mouth and I'll run my business brother
You're always telling me what to do
Saying "I wouldn't do that if I was you"
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
(instrumental break)
You clamp your liver lips and I'll run my business brother
Just clamp your liver lips and I'll run my business brother
If I follows your advice on how to make dough
I'd been in the jailhouse long ago
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
Yeh, you run your juicy mouth and I'll run my business brother
Just you run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You tell everybody I'm busted
You talk so much you got me disgusted
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
(C) Music Sales Corp.
song performed by Joe Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Run Your Mouth
Who doubt say, who doubt when i say, who doubt...
You cats keep beetin' up your chops
I had turn you over to the cops
I dig this spiel i'm going way on your gate
Don't cop your broom pop or buddy or mate
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You tell everybody i'm busted
You talk so much you got me disgusted
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
Yeh, you run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You start up telling me you're my pal
End up telling how to handle my gal
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You run your juicy mouth and i'll run my business brother
You run your juicy mouth and i'll run my business brother
You're always telling me what to do
Saying "i wouldn't do that if i was you"
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You clamp your liver lips and i'll run my business brother
Just clamp your liver lips and i'll run my business brother
If i follows your advice on how to make dough
I'd been in the jailhouse long ago
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
Yeh, you run your juicy mouth and i'll run my business brother
Just you run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
You tell everybody i'm busted
You talk so much you got me disgusted
You run your mouth and i'll run my business brother
song performed by Joe Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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This Is Not Your Country
Road blocks and fire
Barb wire upon barb wire
This is not your country
Armoured cars, corrugated scars
Grafitti scrawls:
This is not your country
Home sweet fortress
Gunshot - we hate your kind
Get back !
This is not your country
I need some air
And Im stopped and repeatedly questioned:
Born and raised ?
But this is not my country
Were old news
Alls well
Say bbc scum
One child shot, but so what ?
Laid my son
In a box, three feet long
And I still dont know why
A short walk home becomes a run
And Im scared
In my own country
Were old news
Alls well
Say bbc scum
Everybodys under control
Of our surveillance globes
Were old news
Alls well
And thirty years could be a thousand
And this peugeot ad
Spins round in my head
British soldier pointing a gun
And Im only trying to post a letter
A short walk home becomes a run
And Im scared, and Im scared, I am scared
Old news
Alls well
Bbc scum
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
[...] Read more
song performed by Morrissey
Added by Lucian Velea
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God Save The South
It was a red hot night night in mobile
Sweat glistened on the reverends chin
His mohair suit was shinin
He told us all about sin
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
Across the street in the pool hall
Bubba put the eight ball down
Its a high five celebration
They passed the jack around
Its wall to wall in wall street
Were livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Shut your mouth
Some long haired boys with guitars
Playin behind the chicken wire
Theyre goin up to new york city
Gonna sing about atlantas fire
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
So,yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete
I.
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.
'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.
We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.
Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.
Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.
II.
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poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Added by Poetry Lover
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Put Yer Money Where Your Mouth Is
(noel gallagher)
(vocals by liam)
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your momma said that you were real
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your momma said the tune was real
Ready or not
And come what may
You betcha going down for judgement day
So put yer money in yer mouth
And your hands right up on the wheel
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your papa said that you were real
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your paa said that you were real
Ready or not
And come what may
You betcha going down for judgement day
So put yer money in yer mouth
And your hands right up on the wheel
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your papa said that you were real
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your papa said that you were real
Ready or not
And come what may
You betcha going down for judgement day
So put yer money in yer mouth
And your hands right up on the wheel
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Whhhooooooo
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your momma said that you were real
Put yer money where yer mouth is
Your momma said that you were real
Ready or not
And come what may
You betcha going down for judgement day
So put yer money in yer mouth
And your hands right up on the wheel
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Watch out
Hey watch out
W-w-w-w-w-w-watch out
Hey watch out
Hey
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!
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song performed by Oasis
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:
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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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