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I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute.

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They've Chosen To Be Winners

Picking up those pieces from a running done.
Now taking time when before they gave none.
Less they find offensive too.
With fresh sentiments meant,
They've improved.

Sticking to a purpose with a focused aimed
With minds more open.
And those attitudes changed.

A new day dawning has to them been sent.
To send defensive motives flushed,
With their fluxing minds now rinsed.

And...
They've chosen to be winners!
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.

They have chosen to be winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.

Picking up those pieces from a running done.
Now taking time when before they gave none.
Less they find offensive too.
With fresh sentiments meant they've improved.

And...
They've chosen to be winners!
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.

They are winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.

[...] Read more

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Looking At The Many People

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people,
Waiting to live a life they like.
The many people...
In a luxurized hype.

Looking at the people,
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.

Embittered and lamenting.
Looking at the many people.
Living venting and resenting.
Looking at the many people.

Condescending and offending.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.

Looking at the many people.
Waiting for a life they like.
The many people.
Looking at the many people.

Embittered and lamenting.
Looking at the many people.
Living venting and resenting.
Looking at the many people.

Condescending and offending.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...
And in their minds they're losing sense.

Looking at the many people.
Looking at the many people.
Expressing their sad sentiments...

[...] Read more

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Not Your Doormat!

I'm not your doormat; I'm so much more than that.
I'm not your doormat; I deserve so much more respect than that.
I'm not your doormat; I'm so much stronger than that.
I'm not your doormat and I'm most certainly not your slave.
I'm not your doormat; I'm a human being.
I'm not your doormat; a dog to call when you too lazy to do it yourself.
You may think I'm weak but inside of me is a warrior that is stronger than you thought possible.
One day I will have the power to say no and stop kissing the feet of the idiots that constantly kick me.
Working my butt off and getting nothing in return I'm sick of it and refuse to stand for it any longer!
I'm not your doormat; a place to wipe your dirt on.

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Trans-Europe Express

Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Rendezvous on Champs-Elysees
Leave Paris in the morning on T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
In Vienna we sit in a late-night cafe
Straight connection, T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
From station to station
back to Dusseldorf City
Meet Iggy Pop and David Bowie
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express

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Express Yourself

(she takes him in her arms,
She kisses his face on the lips)
(one woman in the world,
One woman in many faces)
(she takes him in her arms,
She kisses his face on the lips)
Dont go for second best baby
Put your love to the test
You know, you know, youve got to
Make her express how she feels
And maybe then youll know your love is real
You dont need diamond rings
Or eighteen karat gold
Fancy cars that go very fast
You know they never last, no, no
What you need is a big strong hand
To lift you to your higher ground
Make you feel like a king on a throne
Make her love you till you cant come down
Dont go for second best baby
Put your love to the test
You know, you know, youve got to
Make her express how she feels
Then youll know your love is real
(one woman in the world,
One woman in many faces)
Long stem roses are the way to your heart
But she needs to start with your head
Satin sheets are very romantic
What happens when youre not in bed
You deserve the best in life
So if the time isnt right then move on
Second best is never enough
Youll do much better baby on your own
Dont go for second best baby
Put your love to the test
You know, you know, youve got to
Make her express how she feels
Then youll know your love is real
Express yourself
Youve got to make her
Express herself
Hey, hey, hey, hey
So if you want it right now, make her show you how
Express what shes got, oh baby ready or not
And when youre gone she might regret it
And think about the love she once had
Try to carry on, but she just wont get it
Shell be back on her knees
To express herself

[...] Read more

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I...have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is. I only know that people call me a feminist when I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat, or a prostitute.

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People call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute.

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People call me feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute.

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The Sidewinder Sleep Tonight

This here is the place I will be staying.
There isn't a number. You can call the pay phone.
Let it ring a long, long, long, long time.
If I don't pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more.
If I don't pick up, pick up... The sidewinder sleeps, sleeps, sleeps in a coil
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
There are scratches all around the coin slot
like a heartbeat, baby trying to wake up,
but this machine can only swallow money.
You can't lay a patch by computer design.
It's just a lot of stupid, stupid signs.
Tell her,
tell her she can kiss my ass, then laugh and say that you were only kidding.
That way she'll know that it's really, really, really, really me.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Baby, instant soup doesn't really grab me.
Today I need something more sub-sub-sub-substantial.
A can of beans or blackeyed peas, some Nescafe and ice,
a candy bar, a falling star, or a reading of Doctor Seuss;
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
The cat in the hat came back, wrecked a lot of havoc on the way,
always had a smile and a reason to pretend.
But their world has flat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream.
The sidewinder sleeps on his back.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
We've got to moogie, moogie, move on this one

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The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight

This here is the place I will be staying.
There isnt a number. you can call the pay phone.
Let it ring a long, long, long, long time.
If I dont pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more.
If I dont pick up, pick up... the sidewinder sleeps, sleeps, sleeps in a coil
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
There are scratches all around the coin slot
Like a heartbeat, baby trying to wake up,
But this machine can only swallow money.
You cant lay a patch by computer design.
Its just a lot of stupid, stupid signs.
Tell her,
Tell her she can kiss my ass, then laugh and say that you were only kidding.
That way shell know that its really, really, really, really me.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Baby, instant soup doesnt really grab me.
Today I need something more sub-sub-sub-substantial.
A can of beans or blackeyed peas, some nescafe and ice,
A candy bar, a falling star, or a reading of doctor seuss;
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
The cat in the hat came back, wrecked a lot of havoc on the way,
Always had a smile and a reason to pretend.
But their world has flat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream.
The sidewinder sleeps on his back.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. call me when you try to wake her.
Weve got to moogie, moogie, move on this one.

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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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Byron

Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

[...] Read more

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Call Me

Written by harry, moroder
Color me your color, baby
Color me your car
Color me your color, darling
I know who you are
Come up off your color chart
I know where youre coming from
Call me on the line
Call me, call me any anytime
Call me, my love, you can call me any day or night
Call me!
Cover me with kisses, baby
Cover me with love
Roll me in designer sheets
Ill never get enough
Emotions come, I dont know why
Cover up loves alibi
Call me on the line
Call me, call me any anytime
Call me oh my love
When youre ready we can share the wine
Call me
Ooh, he speaks the languages of love
Ooh, amore, chiamami (chiamami)
Oo, appelle-moi, mon cherie (appelle-moi)
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, anyway!
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any day, anyway!
Call me my love
Call me, call me any anytime
Call me for a ride
Call me, call me for some overtime
Call me my love
Call me, call me in a sweet design
Call me, call me for your lovers lovers alibi
Call me on the line
Call me, call me any anytime
Call me
Oh, call me, ooh ooh ah
Call me my love
Call me, call me any anytime

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I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is; I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat.

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I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat.

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Trans Europa Express

Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Rendez-vous auf den Champs Elysees
Verlass Paris am Morgen mit dem TEE
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
In Wien sitzen wir im Nachtcafe
Direkt Verbindung TEE
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Wir laufen 'rein in Duesseldorf City
Und treffen Iggy Pop und David Bowie

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Call Me

Colour me your colour, baby
Colour me your car
Colour me your colour, darling
I know who you are
Come up off your colour chart
I know where you're coming from
Call me (Call me) on the line
You can call me, call me anytime
Call me (Call me) for a ride
You can call me any day or night
Call me, yeah
Cover me with kisses, baby
Cover me with love
Roll me in designer sheets
I'll never get enough
Emotions come, I don't know why
Cover up love's alibi
Call me (Call me) on the line
You can call me, call me anytime
Call me (Call me) for a ride
When you're ready we can share the wine
Call me, yeah
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, anyway
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any day, anyway
Call me (Call me) on the line
You can all me, call me anytime
Call me (Call me) my love
You can call me in a sweet design
Call me (Call me) for a ride
You can call me for some overtime
Call me (Call me) call me for your lover's lover's alibi
Yeah

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David

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.

If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.

[...] Read more

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John Milton

Paradise Lost: Book X

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
Accept me, and in mee from these receave
The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
Those pure immortal Elements that know

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Byron

Don Juan: Canto The Sixteenth

The antique Persians taught three useful things,
To draw the bow, to ride, and speak the truth.
This was the mode of Cyrus, best of kings--
A mode adopted since by modern youth.
Bows have they, generally with two strings;
Horses they ride without remorse or ruth;
At speaking truth perhaps they are less clever,
But draw the long bow better now than ever.

The cause of this effect, or this defect,--
'For this effect defective comes by cause,'--
Is what I have not leisure to inspect;
But this I must say in my own applause,
Of all the Muses that I recollect,
Whate'er may be her follies or her flaws
In some things, mine's beyond all contradiction
The most sincere that ever dealt in fiction.

And as she treats all things, and ne'er retreats
From any thing, this epic will contain
A wilderness of the most rare conceits,
Which you might elsewhere hope to find in vain.
'Tis true there be some bitters with the sweets,
Yet mix'd so slightly, that you can't complain,
But wonder they so few are, since my tale is
'De rebus cunctis et quibusdam aliis.'

But of all truths which she has told, the most
True is that which she is about to tell.
I said it was a story of a ghost--
What then? I only know it so befell.
Have you explored the limits of the coast,
Where all the dwellers of the earth must dwell?
'Tis time to strike such puny doubters dumb as
The sceptics who would not believe Columbus.

Some people would impose now with authority,
Turpin's or Monmouth Geoffry's Chronicle;
Men whose historical superiority
Is always greatest at a miracle.
But Saint Augustine has the great priority,
Who bids all men believe the impossible,
Because 'tis so. Who nibble, scribble, quibble, he
Quiets at once with 'quia impossibile.'

And therefore, mortals, cavil not at all;
Believe:--if 'tis improbable you must,
And if it is impossible, you shall:
'Tis always best to take things upon trust.
I do not speak profanely, to recall

[...] Read more

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