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I lost a company. So what? It's just stuff. Can't take it with you.

quote by Wally Amos
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give and Free It Up On The Rough Stuff

When I was hard,
It wasn't enough.
The sensitive and warm nice guy,
I had to give with no hint of the tough stuff.

I was the one who supplied the tenderness,
With touches.
Supplied I did the sweet kisses too!
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!

The sensitive and warm nice guy,
I had to be with no hint of the tough stuff.
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!

You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.

Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
That rough stuff.
That rough stuff.

You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.

I was the one who supplied the tenderness,
With touches.
Supplied I did sweet kisses too!
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!

You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rot Stuff

Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for this funeral to end
Dug up about a thousand graves lately
My tastes are what some might call
A little more then just off the wall

Lookin' for some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
I want some rot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have some rot stuff
Gotta have your corpse tonight
Rot stuff
I need rot stuff
I want some rot stuff

Lookin' for a lover who's 6 feet under
Don' t want another night on my own
Wanna share my fetish with a cold blooded lover
Wanna bring a dead man back home

Gotta have some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
I want some rot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have something cold
Gotta have something rotting under me tonight
I need rot stuff
Cold rot
Lookin' for cold rot

Rot, rot, rot, rot stuff
Rot, rot, rot
Rot, rot, rot, rot stuff
Rot, rot, rot

How's about some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
Gimme a little rot stuff this evenin'
Rot stuff baby
Gonna need your corpse tonight
Rot stuff
I need something cold and rotting
Lookin' for some rot stuff
Wanna make love to a dead man tonight

Sittin' here eatin' my heart out
No more listening to this funeral march can I do
Won't waste another night or moment on my own
I've dug up about a hundred graves baby
I'm bound to find somebody as horny as I am tonight

[...] Read more

poem by Ramona Thompson
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Luv Your Stuff

(myles goodwyn)
Published by mfg sing sing music/socan - ascap
Everytime I get restless, I see my hand knockin on your door
And everytime Im in a fix baby, I start actin like I need you more
Well Ive been lookin for someone to talk to
And Ive been searchin for a better way
And Ive been runnin all over town, girl
Ive been lookin each and every way, yeah
But you got somethin special
And Im bein on the level with you
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), mmm, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), at five oclock in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), still cant get enough
(great stuff, luv your stuff)
Livin like a fool in flames
You know that I been usin you, girl
And Im the one to blame
But babe, I got my cupboards all stocked and ready
What you get girl, is what you see
And youve been lookin inside my head now
And you got your arms wrapped around me, mmm
I got no thing for our candy
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), send the bill in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), get busy
I got no sense of reason, I know I gotta make a deal
Its all comin down to somethin baby, its tellin me I got to get real, huh
I got my senses in a tuft, Im all mixed up, my temperatures starting to rise
And I cant seem to stay away from you, girl, I think its more than we realized, yeah
Wont you look what its doin
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), Ill pay the price in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff)

song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Hot Stuff

(coverdale)
Im ready for you,
Are you ready for me
Ive got a burning heart,
It wont let me be
I feel the hunger, my spirit yearns,
Ive got to feed the fever
Of a love that burns
I walk the street round midnight,
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff
Im hard to handle,
Too hot to hold
I cant seem to satisfy
My heart an soul
I need a woman to set me free,
A little miss understanding
To feel the need in me
I walk the street round midnight,
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff
Im ready for you,
Are you ready for me
Ive got a burning heart,
It wont let me be
I feel the hunger, my spirit yearns,
Ive got to feed the fever
Of a love that burns
I walk the street round midnight
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff
Hot stuff, cant get enuff hot stuff...

song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ruffled Up

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Because I'm tough enough.

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gotta beat it.
Since I can't leave it.
To grieve over weeping.
And compare my pains.

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
That's got me ruffled up!

I've had it,
With this stuff.
Too many,
Suffer enough.
And too much stuff that corrupts...
Is,
Enough!

I've had it,
With this stuff.
Too many,
Suffer enough.
And too much stuff that corrupts...
Is,
Enough!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Shepherd's Dog

I.

A Shepherd's Dog there was; and he
Was faithful to his master's will,
For well he lov'd his company,
Along the plain or up the hill;
All Seasons were, to him, the same
Beneath the Sun's meridian flame;
Or, when the wintry wind blew shrill and keen,
Still the Old Shepherd's Dog, was with his Master seen.

II.

His form was shaggy clothed; yet he
Was of a bold and faithful breed;
And kept his master company
In smiling days, and days of need;
When the long Ev'ning slowly clos'd,
When ev'ry living thing repos'd,
When e'en the breeze slept on the woodlands round,
The Shepherd's watchful Dog, was ever waking found.

III.

All night, upon the cold turf he
Contented lay, with list'ning care;
And though no stranger company,
Or lonely traveller rested there;
Old Trim was pleas'd to guard it still,
For 'twas his aged master's will;--
And so pass'd on the chearful night and day,
'Till the poor Shepherd's Dog, was very old, and grey.

IV.

Among the villagers was he
Belov'd by all the young and old,
For he was chearful company,
When the north-wind blew keen and cold;
And when the cottage scarce was warm,
While round it flew, the midnight storm,
When loudly, fiercely roll'd the swelling tide--
The Shepherd's faithful Dog, crept closely by his side.

V.

When Spring in gaudy dress would be,

[...] Read more

poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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But For Being Lost

As black imbued black, so was rendered the pitch of darkness
That befogged this godforsaken yard of graves -
And too the dank, ‘til now forgotten chapel that
Did little to grace these forlorn grounds.

Yet here stood I, seemingly first to tread this weed-ridden soil
Since times of yore when life had erstwhile blessed this land.
But for being lost in solitude - as does a country wanderer -
Would I not have happened across this morbid landscape.

And though detail rendered barely visible to my naked eye –
For desperately had the moon tried to break through this jet fog –
A sense of something suffused the place.
Was it those tormented spirits desperate for absolution,
Or perhaps the gargoyles teasing me on whether they be of stone or living flesh?

I was drawn to the oak door as it enticingly opened in passage for me.
The organ called from down the nave and through the pale orange of unsteady light
- that which could only be mustered from the few discoloured, moribund candles.
Could I also hear a distant choir of stern voices, as if in effort to scold me?

As I approached, those tarnished pipes came into view.
Standing erect with gothic pride, they bore down on me with patronising air -
Exaggerated by the disjointed sneering of minor chords,
As if to state that insignificant I had henceforth no grant of solace.

In answer, I steadied my rocking legs and racing mind to wonder of this scenario.
And in doing so, I found myself waking from a cramped dream –
Whence the message dawned: mine had been such a claustrophobic life.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Dumb Stuff

A flop I did do!
I was a rookie when I hooked up,
To the dumb stuff.
I was a rookie when I hooked up,
To the dumb stuff.
I was a rookie when I hooked up,
To the dumb stuff.
With a giving as much of it up!

I let it done to overcome,
All the dumb stuff.
I let it done to overcome,
All the dumb stuff.
I let it done to overcome,
All the dumb stuff.
With a giving as much of it up!

A flop I did do.
At times I hated when I found out,
It was dumb stuff.
At times I hated when I found out,
It was dumb stuff.
At times I hated when I found out,
It was dumb stuff.
With a giving as much of it up!

A flop I did do,
To help improve my movements.
Yes a flop I did do.
A flop I did do.

Oh yes a flop I did do.
To help improve my movements.
Yes a flop I did do.
A flop I did do.

I was a rookie when I hooked up,
To the dumb stuff.
I let it done to overcome,
All the dumb stuff.
At times I hated when I found out,
It was dumb stuff.
But that dumb stuff finally helped me wake up!

All the dumb stuff,
That I did I chose to give up!
All the dumb stuff,
That I did I chose to give up!
And it was dumb stuff...
That I did I chose to give up!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Machismo

Sampled:
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
My brother's into, my brother's into
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
It's serious, man
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
It's serious, man
I seen a movie on it
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
Gomez:
Come around my way, toast the angels
He don't do what it's from, dat ain't right
Sampled:
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
It's serious, man
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
It's serious, man
I seen a movie on it
He's into that, that spiritual stuff
Gomez:
Come around my way, toast the angels
He don't do what it from, dat ain't right
Come around my way, toast the angels
He don't do what it from, and dat ain't right
He don't do what it from, and dat ain't right
So come around my way, toast the angels
He don't do what it from, and dat ain't right
He don't do what it from, and dat ain't right

song performed by Gomez
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shudder/king Of Snake

Kkking of snake
King of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Snake
Snake
Snake
Snake
24 hours with the king of snake
Kkking of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
Im on a boast and the king of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
King of snake race
Im on a boast and the king of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
Im on a boast and the king of snake
24 hours with the king of snake
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink drink
And you go ping
Heat that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Snake
Drink that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enougha
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Right
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing

[...] Read more

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Trouble With The Sweet Stuff

(wanna give it up
Gotta give it up
Cant give it up)
Oh mama oh oh
The moneys run out
And Im a hungry man
Oh mama oooo
You see
I--Im a--hurtin man
I was just a boy
When they told me
God love ya
Youre insane
Here I am
Pistol in my hand
Judge and jury
One the same
I got
Trouble with the sweet stuff oh yeah
I got
Trouble with the sweet stuff oh yeah
And Im never ever gonna shake it
Shake it
Trouble with the sweet stuff
Trouble with the sweet stuff
Bang bang
They shot me down
Caught me
Robbing the bank again
Say Im crazy
Im a desperate man
Nah right (cmon)
Daddys in the junk shop
Alley babe
Tryin to some that stuff
I said
I cant believe it (ooh give it up)
Trouble with the sweet stuff oh yeah
I got
Trouble with the sweet stuff
And Im never
Ever gonna shake it
Shake it
Dont wanna give it up
Dont wanna give it up
Yeah
Shake it
Gotta give it up
Dont wanna give it up
Dont wanna give it up

[...] Read more

song performed by Billy Idol
Added by Lucian Velea
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Funky Stuff

I promise not to let,
The left step go...
Not too far to the left.
Or be bothered by right at all.

I promise not to let,
The left step go...
Not too far to the left.
Or be bothered by right at all.

I promise not to let,
The left step go...
Not too far to the left.
Or be bothered by right at all.

I'd like a life that glides...
Free and easy.
No matter who it is I crush.
Or whose life is turned into mush.

I'd like a life that glides...
Free and easy.
No matter who it is I crush.
Or whose life I turn into mush.

I can't get enough,
Of that funky stuff.
Of that funky stuff,
I can't get enough!

I'd like a life that glides...
Free and easy.
No matter who it is I crush.
Or whose life I turn into mush.

I can't get enough,
Of that funky stuff.
Of that funky stuff,
I can't get enough!

I'd like a life that glides...
Free and easy.
I can't get enough,
Of that funky stuff.

I can't get enough,
Of that funky stuff.
Of that funky stuff,
I can't get enough!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Flower And The Leaf

When that Phebus his chaire of gold so hy
Had whirled up the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Bole was entred certainly;
Whan shoures swete of rain discended soft,
Causing the ground, felë tymes and oft,
Up for to give many an hoolsom air,
And every plain was [eek y-]clothed fair

With newe grene, and maketh smalë floures
To springen here and there in feld and mede;
So very good and hoolsom be the shoures
That it reneweth, that was old and deede
In winter-tyme; and out of every seede
Springeth the herbë, so that every wight
Of this sesoun wexeth [ful] glad and light.

And I, só glad of the seson swete,
Was happed thus upon a certain night;
As I lay in my bed, sleep ful unmete
Was unto me; but, why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist; for there nas erthly wight,
As I suppose, had more hertës ese
Than I, for I n'ad siknesse nor disese.

Wherfore I mervail gretly of my-selve,
That I so long, withouten sleepë lay;
And up I roos, three houres after twelve,
About the [very] springing of the day,
And on I put my gere and myn array;
And to a plesaunt grovë I gan passe,
Long or the brightë sonne uprisen was,

In which were okës grete, streight as a lyne,
Under the which the gras, so fresh of hew,
Was newly spronge; and an eight foot or nyne
Every tree wel fro his felawe grew,
With braunches brode, laden with leves new,
That sprongen out ayein the sonnë shene,
Som very rede, and som a glad light grene;

Which, as me thought, was right a plesaunt sight.
And eek the briddes song[ës] for to here
Would have rejoised any erthly wight.
And I, that couth not yet, in no manere,
Here the nightingale of al the yere,
Ful busily herkned, with herte and ere,
If I her voice perceive coud any-where.

And at the last, a path of litel brede
I found, that gretly had not used be,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Not at a Loss Chord - after Adelaide Anne Procter – A Lost Chord

Not at a Loss Chord

Playing one day with my organ,
I was blissful – not ill at ease -
while five fingers wandered wildly
web-cams recording each wheeze.

I know the spot vibrating,
less what I was dreaming then,
but I strummed with both will and spirit
and an “Oh My God! Amen! ”

Adrenaline flowed not vainly
from heart to crimson palm,
as it coursed both veins and spirit
with little akin to calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow,
like love overcoming strife;
it seem[en]ed orgasmic echo
to tune discordant life.

It linked all perplexèd meanings
into one perfect peace,
and trembled away into silence
although I was loth to cease.

I have sought, and I seek not vainly,
that one G spot divine,
which linked my soul to the organ
so manifestly mine.

La petite morte delightful
strikes shivering molten core,
as this little verse insightful
calls for en corps encore!

It may be that Death's bright angel
will speak in that chord again,
for it’s surely in seventh Heaven
one sings “Oh My God! Amen! ”

Parody Adelaide Anne PROCTER – A Lost Chord
8 April 2007

ROBIN Jonathan 1947_2006 robi3_1338_proc1_0001 PXY_MXX Not at a Loss Chord_Playing one day with my organ
A Lost Chord

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Got To Give It Up

Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Tell my mama and tell my pa
That their fine young son didnt get far
He made it to the end of a bottle
Sitting in a sleazy bar
He tried hard but his spirit broke
He tried until he nearly choked
In the end he lost his
Bottle drinking alcohol
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Tell my brother I tried to write and
Put pen to paper but I was frightened
I couldnt seem to get the words out right
Right quite right
Tell my sister Im sinking slow
Now and again I powder my nose
In the end I lost my bottle
It smashed in a casbah
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive been messing with the heavy stuff
For a time I couldnt get enough
But Im waking up and its wearing off
Junk dont take you far
Tell my mama Im coming home
In my youth Im getting older
And I think its lost control
Mama Im coming home
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff
Ive got to give it up Ive got to give it up
That stuff

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Lost Day

Lost is the day in which you have not found fulfillment in any area: work, private, or social.

Lost is the day in which you have not found a reason to smile: not about others, and not about yourself.

Lost is the day in which you have not been of any service: neither to others, nor to yourself.

Lost is the day in which you have not shared some love with another living creature.

Lost is the day in which you did not dedicate one positive thought to yourself.

Lost is the day in which your laziness prevented you to be constructive.

Lost is the day in which you allowed the setbacks and failures of the world to get the best of you.

Lost is the day in which you allowed your jealousy to conquer your compassion.

Lost is the day in which you undertook any act with a devious intention.

Lost is the day in which your mind prevailed your heart.

Lost is the day in which you allowed material gain to determine your decisions.

Lost is the day in which you sought out a prey among the vulnerable.

Lost is the day in which you discarded empathy.

Lost is the day in which you preferred ignorance, through discrimination of any kind, to embracement of equality.

Lost is the day in which you got lost in backbiting and any other kind of meanness directed toward another.

Lost is the day in which you failed to recognize the lesson in even the most dreadful experience.

Lost is the day in which you ignored the voice of your intuition.

Lost is the day in which you did not prioritize the ones you love over material gain.

Lost is the day in which you lowered yourself to hypocrisy.

Lost is the day in which you deliberately brought pain upon another living creature.

Lost is the day in which you allowed hope to get lost.

Lost is the day in which you forgot where you came from.

Lost is the day in which you forget where you're going.

Lost is the day in which you allowed an estrangement between your mind, your body, and your soul.

Lost is the day in which you were not creative.

[...] Read more

poem by Joan Marques
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

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poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Small Stuff

There's a little cafe' on the corner of town
Lucy works there 'til the sun goes down
It ain't very much but she brings home the bacon and the bread
We got a mortgage we pay just a little bit on
But it seems like all of our money is gone
Before we get a chance to get ahead
That's small stuff, we don't sweat the small stuff
Why worry about the mortgage and the minimum wage
Traffic and the taxes and the coming of age
Small stuff
There's a comfort in the knowing there's a spirit in us
Giving us the courage and the wisdom to trust
In a love that's so much greater than all the small stuff
So we don't sweat the small stuff
There's a little bitty hole in the ceiling above
Sometimes the rain drips down on our temple of love
We have to put a pot smack dab in the middle of the bed
Somebody hit my car at the diner last night
Had to drive it home with one taillight
When I went out this morning, the engine was dead
That's small stuff, we don't sweat the small stuff
Why worry about the mortgage and the minimum wage
Traffic and the taxes and the coming of age
Small stuff
There's a comfort in the knowing there's a spirit in us
Giving us the courage and the wisdom to trust
In a love that's so much greater than all the small stuff
So we don't sweat the small stuff
There's a little cafe' on the corner of town
Lucy works there 'til the sun goes down
And she don't sweat the small stuff

song performed by Alabama
Added by Lucian Velea
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The White Stuff

The white stuff, the white stuff
The first one was a sweet one
Second one was a blast
Soon I finished off the bag, ate em up real fast
You can see em in my teeth
Tell it when I talk
Had so many my pancreas just went into shock
I love the white stuff, baby
In the middle of an oreo
I love the white stuff, baby
Its the most delicious thing I know
Ive had a zillion or two
In my life, theyre so right
My teeth are all rotted clear through
But who cares? what else am I supposed to do?
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Whats in the middle? the white stuff
The first time that I tried it
Got a big sugar buzz
Nothing gets me high as that sandwhich cookie does
But I love the filling most
I rub it on my roast
Mix it in with my coffee and spread it on my toast
I love the white stuff, baby
In the middle of an oreo
I love the white stuff, baby
Take some with me everywhere I go
Might get a pimple or two
Well, so what? its all right
Now twinkies and ding dongs wont do
All I need... you know what it is
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Whats in the middle? the white stuff

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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