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There's a couple of tracks on the new record which is sort of using similar sort of rhythms as the drum and bass tracks but playing it all live. It's a new approach to it.

quote by Tom Jenkinson
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No Good/start The Dance (Bad For You Mix)

Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.

[...] Read more

song performed by Prodigy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stop Dead

Stop!
Stop!
Stop dead,
Stop stop stop stop stop stop
I pulled up at a west end junction (seeker of attention)
A full body kit and bass bins pumping (size up competition)
Come on red light, get into green,
I hit the brake, I must be dreaming..
Im stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose you, from my sight
Where ya going to?
Gotta know now..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose, you from my sight
Where ya going to?
Oh-oh-oh
Ive got my eyes on the action (killer reputation)
Heat crazed in full satisfaction (become a phaser? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Body in motion, now you see me
(chorus)
Gotta know know.. stop!
Come on now, come on now
Come on now, come on now
Wise up to remain young victim (come on, ways of attraction)
A full scale attack on the system (come on, no one visor? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Im into red line territory
And im..
(chorus)
Stop!, dead in my tracks again,
Im stop dead in my tracks
Stop!, in my tracks (yeah)
Im stop dead in my tracks
(oh-oh) gotta know know..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)

song performed by Duran Duran
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Beat Of Your Drum

Photograph king, watches you go
Now fashions may change, heaven knows, but you
Still leave a stain on me
Only to go colours may fade
The seasons may change, weather blows, but you still leave a mark on me
Wrong-negative fades-never the twain, reckless and tame
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat I beat it
I feel it
Disco brat-follow the pack
Watching you peel, heaven knows, prison cant hold all this greedy intention
Only to go-i picture you now
Music may change-hi-di-ho keen to follow your nose
Wrong-love out of tune
Sweet is the night, bright light destroys me
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
I like to beat on your drum
I like to beat on your drum
I like your face in the crowd
I like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
Cant beat it
I feel it
Ho beat it
I beat it
Oh yeah
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to yell it out loud
Id like to beat on your drum
Cant beat it cant beat it
I feel it I feel it
Id like to beat on your drum

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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If You Live Like That

You say you want to live for today
Before today is lost
But when the returns come in
Do they balance the cost
I can see your four wheels spin
I can smell smoke from the blaze
But we arent moving anyway
If youre seeing past rose colored shades
If you live like that
Dont look back
cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
I said dont look back
I see it all around
People want it good and want it fast
As long as it moves you for the moment
It doesnt matter if it lasts
But our love is sweet
It can drive me to my knees
But we still got troubles you and i
Seeing the forest for the trees
If you live like that
Dont look back
cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks baby
I said dont look back
Ive had enough of these two lives
You say youll give to me
Ive had enough of your freedom
You know I want to feel free
Ive had enough gospel
I could spin my head around
I said if youre so caught up in heaven
You dont even see the ground
If you live like that
Dont look back
cause its cold
And its mighty
It may turn your back
Blood on the tracks, baby
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks, baby

[...] Read more

song performed by Indigo Girls
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Stricken [from]

::record::

a teacher ::record:: helps a boy get a gun

it's about not ::record:: looking mistakable

::record::

houndstooth
accordion attache

bounty hunter provisions

::record:: I told the teacher about Pietro's

I was angry with the police again

it was not my movie

I was mixed up in campaign finance reform

I was sweet shiftless and poor

and stricken

::record::, a boy is loaded

American Express makes it ::record:: better

'providing alternatives to jail for persons who pose no danger to the community'

Loan Consolidators for your ::record:: problems

'but use purpose area #15A if primary focus is drug testing or purpose area #20 if focus is reducing jail crowding'

Effective Sanctions that Fit the ::record:: Budget

somehow I was caught up in this

and questioned about a family ::record:: resemblance

[...] Read more

poem by Heather Fuller
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The Chronicle Of The Drum

Part I.

At Paris, hard by the Maine barriers,
Whoever will choose to repair,
Midst a dozen of wooden-legged warriors
May haply fall in with old Pierre.
On the sunshiny bench of a tavern
He sits and he prates of old wars,
And moistens his pipe of tobacco
With a drink that is named after Mars.

The beer makes his tongue run the quicker,
And as long as his tap never fails,
Thus over his favorite liquor
Old Peter will tell his old tales.
Says he, 'In my life's ninety summers
Strange changes and chances I've seen,—
So here's to all gentlemen drummers
That ever have thump'd on a skin.

'Brought up in the art military
For four generations we are;
My ancestors drumm'd for King Harry,
The Huguenot lad of Navarre.
And as each man in life has his station
According as Fortune may fix,
While Conde was waving the baton,
My grandsire was trolling the sticks.

'Ah! those were the days for commanders!
What glories my grandfather won,
Ere bigots, and lackeys, and panders
The fortunes of France had undone!
In Germany, Flanders, and Holland,—
What foeman resisted us then?
No; my grandsire was ever victorious,
My grandsire and Monsieur Turenne.

'He died: and our noble battalions
The jade fickle Fortune forsook;
And at Blenheim, in spite of our valiance,
The victory lay with Malbrook.
The news it was brought to King Louis;
Corbleu! how his Majesty swore
When he heard they had taken my grandsire:
And twelve thousand gentlemen more.

'At Namur, Ramillies, and Malplaquet
Were we posted, on plain or in trench:
Malbrook only need to attack it

[...] Read more

poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Booth's Drum [1]

They were “ratty” they were hooted by the meanest and the least,
When they woke the Drum of Glory long ago in London East.
They were often mobbed by hoodlums—they were few, but unafraid—
And their Lassies were insulted, but they banged the drum—and prayed.
Prayed in public for the sinners, prayed in private for release,
Till they saved some brawny lumpers—then they banged the drum in peace.
(Saved some prize-fighter and burglars)—and they banged the drum in peace.
Booth’s Drum.
He was hook-nosed, he was “scrawny,”
He was nothing of a Don.
And his business ways seemed Yiddish,
And his speeches “kid”—or kiddish;
And we doubted his “convictions”—
But his drum is going on.

Oh, they drummed it ever onward with old Blood-and-Fire unfurled,
And they drummed it ever outward to the corners of the world.
Till they banged the drum in Greenland and they banged in Ispahan,
And they banged it round to India and China and Japan.
And they banged it through the Islands where each seasoned Son of Rum
Took them for new-fangled Jim Jams when he heard the Army Drum.
(For a bran’ new brand of Horrors, when he saw the Army come.)
So they banged it in the desert, and they banged in the snow—
They’d have banged the Drum to Mecca! with the shadow of a “show.”
(But Mohammed cut their heads off, so they had to let it go.)

Somewhere in the early eighties they had banged the drum to Bourke,
Where the job of fighting Satan was white-hot and dusty work.
Oh, the Local Lass was withered in the heat that bakes and glares,
And we sent her food and firewood but took small heed of her prayers.
We were blasphemous and beery, we were free from Creed or Care,
Till they sent their prettiest Lassies—and they broke our centre there.
So that, moderately sober, we could stand to hear them sing—
And we’d chaff their Testifiers, and throw quids into the ring.
(Never less than bobs or “dollars”—sometimes quids into the ring.)

They have “stormed” our sinful cities—banged for all that they were worth—
From Port Darwin to Port Melbourne, and from Sydney round to Perth.
We’d no need for them (or woman) when we were all right and well,
But they took us out of prison, and they took us out of Hell.
And they helped our fallen sisters who went down for such as we,
And our widows and our orphans in distress and poverty.
And neglected wives and children of the worst of us that be;
And they made us fit for Glory—or another Glorious Spree.
(So I rather think there’s something that is up to you or me.)

Oh! the Blindness of the Future!—Ah, we never reckoned much
That they’d beat the quids we gave them into bayonets and such.
That the coin would be devoted, when our world was looking blue,
To another kind of orphan—wife, or child, or widow too.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Dean & I

Hum drum days
And a hum drum ways
Hey kids, let me tell you how I met your mom
We were dancin and romancin at the senior prom
It was no infatuation
But a gradual graduation
From a boy to a man
Let me tell you while I can
The soda pop came free
Hey sis, one kiss, and I was heaven bound
Now who would have guessed miltons paradise lost could
Be found
But in the eyes of the dean, his daughter
Was doin what she shouldna oughta
But a mans gotta do
What a mans gotta do
The consequence should be
Church bells, three swells
The dean, his daughter and me
They were dating in the park
They were smooching in the dark
Of a doorway for two
She whispered I love you -
Ooh, you know I never felt this way before
Ooh, you know the elevator in my heart
Has gone awol, awol, awol, awol
And then I kissed her
And when I kissed her
Its a wonderful world
When youre rolling in kisses
Now, the paint is peeling
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Now, and when the chips are down
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Now, you kinda lose all feeling
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Now, your head goes round and round
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Round and round and round and round and round
Im throwing myself off this train
Hum drum days
And a hum drum ways
Hum drum days, hes got
Hum drum ways, oh boy
Hey, you know Im really earning now
My ship came in with a cargo of dollars
My names lit up on the prow
Its a wonderful world
When youre rolling in dollars
Now!

song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ill Be With You Tonight

Words and music by rick nielsen, bun e. carlos, robin zander, and tom petersson
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight.
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight, tonight, tonight.
You got me burnin, burnin with desire,
You got me burnin, burnin like a fire, oh yeah.
You got me thinkin, thinkin what Ill do,
No doubt about it, I want it with you.
Though youre not my first love,
You just might be my last.
My heart is poundin like a drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, yeah.
Tonight will be the first night that Ive been in love with you.
You get me so excited, Im not sure what Im gonna do.
Tomorrow you wont be here, and I dont expect you to.
Tonight is all I really want, I really want from you.
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight.
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight.
Tonight, tonight.
Everything about you is more than everything
You make me crazy, Im doin crazy things, oh yeah.
Tonight when I first saw you I knew it had to be,
Whyd you have to be so right for me?
Though youre not my first love, you just might be my last.
My heart is poundin like a drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, yeah.
Tonight will be the first night that Ive been in love with you.
You get me so excited, Im not sure what Im gonna do.
Tomorrow you wont be here, and I dont expect you to.
Tonight is all I really want, I really want from you.
Tonight, from you, from you.
(chorus)
Oo, tonight, be with ya, Ill be with ya, Ill be with ya, Ill be with ya tonight, tonight.
Ill be with ya.
(repeat to coda)

song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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Can You Hear It

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
I like that beat as it comes along.
It’s the same beat and the same tune,
we all know it’ll be here soon.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
fast or slow it’s a catchy song.
I kind of look forward to its day
and it's a shame when it goes away.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
It's getting closer and it won’t be long.
At last it's coming down our street
with its catchy drumming beat.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
it's so simple I can’t go wrong.
It's getting louder as it comes near,
the people watching give it a cheer.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the beat’s blasting out loud and strong.
The man inside this sweeping machine
sings as he works to keep the streets clean.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the sounds are fading as it goes along.
But it's nice to know as he sweeps the curb,
his drum, drum, tipi tap, tong, has the final word.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Live 4 Love

{last words from the cockpit}
Lauch procedure commence
Countdown start
10,9,8,7,6,5,4
Keep goin
Acceleration into temporal space continuum now begins...
30,000 feet and still-a-counting (live 4 love)
The attack on my plane is steadily mounting (live 4 love)
They killed my buddy, but Im supposed to feel nothing (live 4 love)
How can I live 4 love? Im calling...
Live 4 love
Live 4 love - Im calling...
Live 4 love - Im calling...
Live 4 love
Kicked out of my home at 17 (live 4 love) ((get outta here))
A real family,
Now what does that mean (what does that mean) (live 4 love)
Dont nobody know the trouble Ive seen (live 4 love)
How can I live 4 love? Im calling...
Live 4 love
Live 4 love
Live 4 love - calling, Im calling
Live 4 love
My mission, so they said, was just 2 drop the bombs
Acceleration into temporal space continuum now begins...
Just like I got no conscience, just like I got no qualms
Alpha 7, acknowledge
Now what does that mean?
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
So here, my target is approaching
The angel on my shoulder starts coaching
Live 4 love, without love u dont live
Boom - I take a deep breath
Is it boom - life?
Is it boom - death?
(live 4 love)
Maybe I was better off staying in school (live 4 love)
But everybody said flying planes was cool (live 4 love)
Its so easy 4 them 2 say
Cuz they never have to go through
How can I live 4 love? (live 4 love) Im calling
Live 4 love - Im calling
Live 4 love - Im calling
Live 4 love
Live 4 love (live 4 love)
Live 4 love
Live 4 love

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Boyz With Da Bass

Intro:(mysterious music)
Absolutely no one under 17 will be admitted without parent or certified adult guardian.
Theyll fry your brain. theyre sick as hell!
Jolly good fun.
Youll die dancin!
Dark, gliding shapes that glide every long inch ...
Buy em or die a thousand deaths!
Chorus:
Heyy!
2 live crew
Boys with the bass!
You better know it!
Verse 1: [fresh kid ice]
Thats right yall, you heard it cause we said it
And if you cant read in the magazines,
You read about who? you know the crew!
Fresh outta pac
And the first to put the bass on the 24-track
Some said it wouldnt work, some said it wouldnt last
In new york, they say that the tempos too fast
You disregarded, but the albums got charted
We put em in the stores and millions habe bought it
An underground sound, not liked by radio
You hear it in the cars and at the dicso
On the airwaves, we misbehave
Were too bold, too rugged in our nasty ways
From dirty minds come dirty rhymes
Were not gonna beg for your time
You dont play it? thats cool with me
But somehow, our bass still reaches the street
As long as we got it, you can get it
People want the bass, so some try to steal it
From behind our back, and not in our face
cause 2 live is the crew, the boys with the bass!
Chorus
Verse 2: [brother marquis]
Holdin out own in the south-east region
When you come to the bottom, pledge to our allegiance
Im glad to say that were the proud owners,
The rock-and-rollers, you cant us this over
The name of the game is supply and demand
We supply the bass while you demand our jams
We could not wait to bring our bass to you
Because in this game, you lag, you lose
See, we serve our bass raw, straight up and not false
This is the kind you dance to, and not on 8-ball
Plenty of bass, the beat, and the rhyme
That my homeboy mr. mixx carefully designed
Hittin hard as hell, and always droppin
Bass is the reason why you are rockin

[...] Read more

song performed by 2 Live Crew
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Polyhymnia

[Polyhymnia: Describing, The honourable Triumph at Tylt,
before her Maiestie, on the 17. of Nouember, last past,
being the first day of the three and thirtith yeare of
her Highnesse raigne. With Sir Henrie Lea, his resignation
of honour at Tylt, to her Maiestie, and receiued by the right
honourable, the Earle of Cumberland.]

[Polyhimnia. Entituled, with all dutie to the Right
Honourable, Lord Compton of Compton.]

Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,
Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,
Elizabeth great Empresse of the world,
Britanias Atlas, Star of Englands globe,
That swaies the massie scepter of her land,
And holdes the royall raynes of Albion:
Began the gladsome sunnie day to shine,
That drawes in length date of her golden raigne:
And thirtie three shee numbreth in her throne:
That long in happinesse and peace (I pray)
May number manie to these thirtie three.
Wherefore it fares as whilom and of yore,
In armour bright and sheene, faire Englands knights
In honour of their peerelesse Soueraigne:
High Maistresse of their seruice, thoughtes and liues
Make to the Tyltamaine: and trumpets sound,
And princelie Coursers neigh, and champ the byt,
When all addrest for deeds of high deuoyre,
Preace to the sacred presence of their Prince.

The 1. couple. Sir Henrie Lea. The Earle of Cumberland.

Mightie in Armes, mounted on puissant horse,
Knight of the Crown in rich imbroderie,
And costlie faire Caparison charg'd with Crownes,
Oreshadowed with a withered running Vine,
As who would say, My spring of youth is past:
In Corslet gylt of curious workmanship,
Sir Henry Lea, redoubted man at Armes.
Leades in the troopes, whom woorthie Cumberland
Thrice noble Earle, aucutred as became
So greate a Warriour and so good a Knight.
Encountred first, yclad in coate of steele,
And plumes and pendants al as white as Swanne,
And speare in rest, right readie to performe
What long'd vnto the honour of the place.
Together went these Champions, horse and man,
Thundring along the Tylt, that at the shocke

[...] Read more

poem by George Peele
Added by Poetry Lover
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Discography of The Smiths

Discography of The Smiths

*
Singles

Year: 1995
Tracks: 18
The Smiths: Singles Download
*
The World Won't Listen

Year: 1993
Tracks: 18
The Smiths: The World Won't Listen Download
*
...Best II

Year: 1992
Tracks: 14
The Smiths: ...Best II Download
*
Best... I

Year: 1992
Tracks: 14
The Smiths: Best... I Download
*
The Smiths

Year: 1992
Tracks: 11
The Smiths: The Smiths Download
*
Rank

Year: 1988
Tracks: 14
The Smiths: Rank Download
*
Louder Than Bombs

Year: 1987
Tracks: 24
The Smiths: Louder Than Bombs Download
*
Strangeways, Here We Come

Year: 1987
Tracks: 10
The Smiths: Strangeways, Here We Come Download

[...] Read more

poem by Sergejs Sinica
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Slap That Bass

Zoom zoom zoom zoom
The world is in a mess
With politics and taxes
And people grinding axes
Theres no happiness
Zoom zoom zoom zoom
Rhythm lead your ace
The future doesnt fret me
If I can only get me
Someone to slap that bass
Happiness is not a riddle
When Im listening to that
Big bass fiddle
Slap that bass
Slap it till its dizzy
Slap that bass
Keep the rhythm busy
Zoom zoom zoom
Misery, youve got to go
Slap that bass
Use it like a tonic
Slap that bass
Keep your philharmonic
Zoom zoom zoom
And the milk and honeyll flow
Dictators would be better off
If they zoom zoom now and then
Today, you can see that the happiest men
All got rhythm
In which case
If you want a bauble
Slap that bass
Slap away your trouble
Learn to zoom zoom zoom
Slap that bass
(bridge)
Dictators would be better off
If they zoom zoom now and then
Today, you can see that the happiest men
All got rhythm
In which case
If you want a bauble
Slap that bass
Slap away your trouble
Learn to zoom zoom zoom
Slap that bass
Zoom zoom zoom zoom
Zoom zoom zoom zoom
Zoom zoom zoom zoom

song performed by Ella Fitzgerald
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vengababes From Outer Space

Vengababes from outer space
Oh weh oh
Oh weh oh
Oh weh oh
Oh weh oh
Something specials in the air this evening
Everybodys looking at the sky
Messages that we have been receiving
Vengababes are here to take you high
Oh weh oh - its a cosmic celebration
Oh weh oh - vengababes are here to stay
Oh weh oh - get ready for the bass invasion
Oh weh oh - we are the
Vengababes from outer space
Here to save the human race
Happy face, just pump the bass
Gonna make this world a party place
Vengababes from outer space
Here to save the human race
Happy face, just pump the bass
Gonna make this world a party place
Now you know that we are taking over
And there is no need to be afraid
Just come and jump for fun, dont think it over
Everybody get up and celebrate
Oh weh oh - its a cosmic celebration
Oh weh oh - vengababes are here to stay
Oh weh oh - get ready for the bass invasion
Oh weh oh - we are the vengababes from outer space
Here to save the human race
Happy face, just pump the bass
Gonna make this world a party place
Vengababes from outer space
Here to save the human race
Happy face, just pump the bass
Gonna make this world a party place
Its a cosmic celebration!
Get ready for the bass invasion
Oh weh oh
Oh weh oh
Oh weh oh
Oh weh oh
We are the
Vengababes from outer space
Here to save the human race
Happy face, just pump the bass
Gonna make this world a party place
Vengababes from outer space
Here to save the human race
Happy face, just pump the bass

[...] Read more

song performed by Vengaboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jazz Doctor: Milford Graves

His playful eyes are framed by a bearded face.
The energy comes through the roots, he says.
If you cut the stems, you're truncating power.

His place exhales an alchemical aura.
A stairway painted in bright rainbow colors
leads to the music research laboratory.
Next to it, in the lavish garden citrus trees
grow amidst healing herbs and exotic plants.

The walls of the house are covered
with a rococo of mosaic stones,
pieces of reflective metal
and chunks of discarded marble
that stand apart from the gritty character
of the 110th Avenue in Queens.

The basement glares in psychedelic colors.
The interior is filled with musical instruments
computers, electronic stethoscopes,
botanical remedies and acupuncture dummies
marked with tinted pathways
along the meridians.

Among many other things, Milford Graves
made trips to the Far East, studying with
Chinese and Japanese masters
of acupuncture, as part of his development
as a critic of allopathic mainstream medicine
in the context of western culture.

Many days ago
he was a police boxing champion
and invented his own martial art technique,
a perpetual motion form,
which borrows from aikido and African dance,
sort of a physical jazz
that hits hard and fast.

Milford Graves came
from Jamaica to New York City,
where he liberated percussion
from its timekeeping role.

In the 1950s and 1960s he emerged in America
as an intrepid pioneer of avant-garde music;
an innovative and different drummer
who marches to his own beat beyond bebop.

He altered, extended and broke down

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Hartal
Added by Poetry Lover
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