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I think I have more in common with a carpenter than you might think. We're putting things together.

quote by Dave Van Ronk
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Sale of Saint Thomas

A quay with vessels moored

Thomas
To India! Yea, here I may take ship;
From here the courses go over the seas,
Along which the intent prows wonderfully
Nose like lean hounds, and tack their journeys out,
Making for harbours as some sleuth was laid
For them to follow on their shifting road.
Again I front my appointed ministry. --
But why the Indian lot to me? Why mine
Such fearful gospelling? For the Lord knew
What a frail soul He gave me, and a heart
Lame and unlikely for the large events. --
And this is worse than Baghdad! though that was
A fearful brink of travel. But if the lots,
That gave to me the Indian duty, were
Shuffled by the unseen skill of Heaven, surely
That fear of mine in Baghdad was the same
Marvellous Hand working again, to guard
The landward gate of India from me. There
I stood, waiting in the weak early dawn
To start my journey; the great caravan's
Strange cattle with their snoring breaths made steam
Upon the air, and (as I thought) sadly
The beasts at market-booths and awnings gay
Of shops, the city's comfortable trade,
Lookt, and then into months of plodding lookt.
And swiftly on my brain there came a wind
Of vision; and I saw the road mapt out
Along the desert with a chalk of bones;
I saw a famine and the Afghan greed
Waiting for us, spears at our throats, all we
Made women by our hunger; and I saw
Gigantic thirst grieving our mouths with dust,
Scattering up against our breathing salt
Of blown dried dung, till the taste eat like fires
Of a wild vinegar into our sheathèd marrows;
And a sudden decay thicken'd all our bloods
As rotten leaves in fall will baulk a stream;
Then my kill'd life the muncht food of jackals. --
The wind of vision died in my brain; and lo,
The jangling of the caravan's long gait
Was small as the luting of a breeze in grass
Upon my ears. Into the waiting thirst
Camels and merchants all were gone, while I
Had been in my amazement. Was this not
A sign? God with a vision tript me, lest
Those tall fiends that ken for my approach

[...] Read more

poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
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Captain Carpenter

Captain Carpenter rose up in his prime
Put on his pistols and went riding out
But had got wellnigh nowhere at that time
Till he fell in with ladies in a rout.

It was a pretty lady and all her train
That played with him so sweetly but before
An hour she'd taken a sword with all her main
And twined him of his nose for evermore.

Captain Carpenter mounted up one day
And rode straightway into a stranger rogue
That looked unchristian but be that as may
The Captain did not wait upon prologue.

But drew upon him out of his great heart
The other swung against him with a club
And cracked his two legs at the shinny part
And let him roll and stick like any tub.

Captain Carpenter rode many a time
From male and female took he sundry harms
He met the wife of Satan crying "I'm
The she-wolf bids you shall bear no more arms.

Their strokes and counters whistled in the wind
I wish he had delivered half his blows
But where she should have made off like a hind
The bitch bit off his arms at the elbows.

And Captain Carpenter parted with his ears
To a black devil that used him in this wise
O Jesus ere his threescore and ten years
Another had plucked out his sweet blue eyes.

Captain Carpenter got up on his roan
And sallied from the gate in hell's despite
I heard him asking in the grimmest tone
If any enemy yet there was to fight?

"To any adversary it is fame
If he risk to be wounded by my tongue
Or burnt in two beneath my red heart's flame
Such are the perils he is cast among.

"But if he can he has a pretty choice
From an anatomy with little to lose
Whether he cut my tongue and take my voice
Or whether it be my round red heart he choose. "

[...] Read more

poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Cat People

See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name
Well, you been so long
And i've been putting out fire
With gasoline
See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds
It's been so long
Still this pulsing night
A plague i call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
But it wouldn't believe what i've been thru
You've been so long
Well it's been so long
And i've been putting out the fire with gasoline
Putting out the fire
With gasoline
See these tears so blue
An ageless heart that can never mend
Tears can never dry
A judgement made can never bend
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Just be still with me
You wouldn't believe what i've been thru
Well you've been so long
It's been so long
And i've been putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire
We've been putting out fire
Well it's been so long so long so long
Yes it's been so long so long so long
I've been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
And putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Putting out fire

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Walrus and The Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

[...] Read more

poem by Lewis Carroll from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (1872)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXV: Common Thing

It’s not a kindness of heart
It’s not strong solidarity
It’s just a common thing

It’s not local wisdom
It’s not old tradition
It’s just a common thing

It’s not call of duty
It’s not sense of right
It’s just a common thing

It’s not formal greeting
It’s not automatic response
It’s just a common thing

It’s not a matter of guessing
It’s not a part of instinct
It’s just a common thing

It’s not natural reaction
It’s not act of compassion
It’s just a common thing

It’s not regular news
It’s not lack of awareness
It’s just a common thing

It’s not general knowledge
It’s not piece of memory
It’s just a common thing

It’s not statistic range
It’s not operational standard
It’s just a common thing

It’s not moral excuses
It’s not people ignorance
It’s just a common thing

It’s not public secret
It’s not rhetoric question
It’s just a common thing

It’s not different mindset
It’s not basic solution
It’s just a common thing

It’s not absolute law
It’s not blind obedience

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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If I Were A Carpenter

If I were a carpenter and you were a lady
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
If I worked my hands in wood
I wonder would you still love me?
I say yes, I would, I'll put you above me
That's what I want you to say
And would you save my love from loneliness,
Would you save my love from sorrow, if you would
I give you my onlyness, girl and all of my tomorrows
If a tinker were my trade, would you still find me?
Carrying the pots and the pans that I made,
Walking along the highway
That long lonely highway
If I was a carpenter, and you were a lady
And I was just a carpenter,
Instead of a rock and roll star
Just a carpenter
A carpenter
A carpenter

song performed by Bob Seger
Added by Lucian Velea
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Life And How To Live It

Burn bright through the night two pockets lead the way
Two doors to go between the wall was raised today
Two doors remain before your others and your own
Keep these books well stocked away and take your happy home
My carpenter's out and running about talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
Burn bright through the night, two pockets lead the way
Two doors to go between the wall was raised today
Raise the walls and shout its flaws, a carpenter should rest
So that when you tire of one side the other serves you best
My carpenter's out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
The hills ringing hear the words in time
Listen to the holler, listen to my walls within my tongue
Can't you see you made my ears go tin?
the air quicken tension building inference suddenly
Life and how to live it
Raise the walls and shout its flaws, a carpenter should rest
So that when you tire of one side the other serves you best
Read about the wisdom lost, a knock, a knock, a knock
A secret knock one hammer's locked the other wisdom lost
My carpenter's out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
My carpenter's out and running about, barking in the, listen to the holler
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
Listen, listen to the holler,
If I write a book it will be called "Life and How to Live It

song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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Good Evening Mr. Waldheim

Good evening mr.waldheim
And pontiff how are you?
You have so much in common
In the things you do
And here comes jesse jackson
He talks of common ground
Does that common ground include me
Or is it just a sound
A sound that shakes
Oh jesse, you must watch the sounds you make
A sound that quakes
There are fears that still reverberate
Jesse you say common ground
Does that include the plo?
What about people right here right now
Who fought for you not so long ago?
The words that flow so freely
Falling dancing from your lips
I hope that you dont cheapen them
With a racist slip
Oh common ground
Is common ground a word or just a sound
Common ground
Remember those civil rights workers buried in the ground
If I ran for president
And once was a member of the klan
Wouldnt you call me on it
The way I call you on farrakhan
And pontiff, pretty pontiff
Can anyone shake your hand ?
Or is it just that you like uniforms
And someone kissing your hand
Or is it true
The common ground for me includes you too
Oh, oh, is it true
The common ground for me includes you too
Good evening mr.waldheim
Pontiff how are you
As you both stroll through the woods at night
Im thinking thoughts of you
And jesse youre inside my thoughts
As the rhythmic words subside
My common ground invites you in
Or do you prefer to wait outside
Or is it true
The common ground for me is without you
Or is it true
The common ground for me is without you
Oh is it true
Theres no ground common enough for me and you

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Summertime In England

Can you meet me in the country
In the summertime in england
Will you meet me?
Will you meet me in the country
In the summertime in england
Will you meet me?
Well go riding up to kendal in the country
In the summertime in england.
Did you ever hear about
Did you ever hear about
Did you ever hear about
Wordsworth and coleridge, baby?
Did you ever hear about wordsworth and coleridge?
They were smokin up in kendal
By the lakeside
Can you meet me in the country in the long grass
In the summertime in england
Will you meet me
With your red robe dangling all around your body
With your red robe dangling all around your body
Will you meet me
Did you ever hear about . . .
William blake
T. s. eliot
In the summer
In the countryside
They were smokin
Summertime in england
Wont you meet me down bristol
Meet me along by bristol
Well go ridin down
Down by avalon
Down by avalon
Down by avalon
In the countryside in england
With your red robe danglin all around your body free
Let your red robe go.
Goin ridin down by avalon
Would you meet me in the country
In the summertime in england
Would you meet me?
In the church of st. john . . .
Down by avalon . . . .
Holy magnet
Give you attraction
Yea, I was attracted to you.
Your coat was old, ragged and worn
And you wore it down through the ages
Ah, the sufferin did show in your eyes as we spoke
And the gospel music

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Carpenter

He was just a carpenter by trade.
He learned from his father at a very early age.
There was something special in the man,
there was much more to his life
than just working with his hands
and He'd say There's no home I could design that would match the one you'd find, when you leave this world behind, if you only took the time.
Chorus:
Love your neighbour like your brother
treat your brother like a friend
always turn the other cheek
help the weary and the weak
make the time for young and old
and as your life unfolds
each kindness that you've shown
will be the nails and hammers
as you build your final ladder
in the manner of the carpenter of old
You could feel compassion in his eyes
only fools that hurt him did not realize
That he was speaking to us all
the righteous and the mighty
the silent and the small
and He'd say There's no home I could design that would match the one you'd find, when you leave this world behind, if you'd only take the time.
Chorus:
Love your neighbour like your brother
treat your brother like a friend
always turn the other cheek
help the weary and the weak
make the time for young and old
and as your life unfolds
each kindness that you've shown
will be the nails and hammers
as you build your final ladder
in the manner of the carpenter of old
He was just a carpenter by trade.
He learned from his father at a very early age.

song performed by Randy Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ballad Of Jesus Of Nazareth

I.

It matters not what place he drew
At first life's mortal breath,
Some say it was in Bethlehem,
And some in Nazareth.
But shame and sorrow were his lot
And shameful was his death.

The angels sang, and o'er the barn
Wherein the infant lay,
They hung a star, for they foresaw
The sad world's better day,
But well God knew what thyme and rue
Were planted by his way.

The children of the Pharisees
In hymn and orison
Worshipped the prophets, whom their sires
To cruel death had done,
And said, 'had we been there their death
We had not looked upon.'

While the star shone the angels saw
The tombs these children built
For those the world had driven out,
And smitten to the hilt,
God knew these wretched sons would bear
The self-same bloody guilt.

Always had he who strives for men
But done some other thing,
If he had not led a hermit life,
Or had not had his fling,
We would have followed him, they say,
And made him lord and King.

For John was clothed in camel's hair
And lived among the brutes;
But Jesus fared where the feast was spread
To the sound of shawms and lutes,
Where gathered knaves and publicans
And hapless prostitutes.

Like children in the market place
Who sullen sat and heard,
With John they would not mourn, nor yet
Rejoice at Jesus' word;
Had Jesus mourned, or John rejoiced,
He had been King and lord.

[...] Read more

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning
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Snail Shell

Sir hand
Or is it maam
I fell out of my right place again
And you
Considered me
And now Im where a snail has to be
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
I need to know because you see
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Friend
Look what you gave
And how can you ever be repaid?
How may I give you a hand
From the position at your feet where I stand?
So let me thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Id like to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
I need to know because you see
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Snail shell
Thank you
Snail shell
Thank you
Ah
Ah
Ah
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
Or was it something where you acted when you saw the need
And knew that there would be a way the act could be repaid
And so it may, but for today
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Leave off the Agony in Style

Come all ye good people, listen to me, pray,
While I speak of fashion and style of today;
If you will notice, kind hearts it will beguile,
To keep in fashion and putting on style.

Chorus --

Leave off the agony, leave off style,
Unless you've got money by you all the while,
If you'll look about you you'll often have to smile,
To see so many people putting on style.

People in this country they think it is the best;
They work hard for money and lay it out in dress;
They think of the future with a pleasant smile,
And lay by no money while putting on style.

Chorus --

Some of the people will dress up so fine,
Will go out in company and have a pleasant time.
Will rob themselves of food, perhaps, all the while,
Sake of following fashions and putting on style.

Chorus --

I love to see the people dress neat and clean,
Likewise follow fashions, but not extremes;
Some friends will find it better in future awhile,
To lay by some money while putting on style.

Chorus --

Gentlemen on the jury decides the criminal's fate;
I pray you turn from wickedness before it is too late;
Sad, indeed, would be your friends to hear your name reviled,
Better be truly honest though putting on style.

Chorus --

Leave off the agony, leave off style,
Unless you've got money by you all the while.
If you look about you you'll often have to smile,
To see so many poor people putting on style.

poem by Julia A Moore
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Fourth Book

THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'

So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Common Ground

Written by neil diamond, tom hensley, and alan lindgren
If you love me,
Say you love me.
These are words we find hard to share.
Would you trust me?
Could I trust you?
Will you always want me there?
Or is this just some game called nothin goes right?
Is this just me to blame
For making these endless nights?
And who do we think we are,
Some kind of cosmic shooting stars?
No were not.
Havent got all that time.
Got to find a common ground,
Not the other way around
For you and i.
We need to walk on common ground.
We need to make a lovin sound.
While we got time,
We got to try.
Were you loving?
Was I caring?
These are feelings too hard to measure.
Ill be loving.
You be caring.
Will it always feel this way?
Or will we find the way to make it alright?
Will that sun come someday
To wake up this endless night?
And who do we think we are,
Some kind of cosmic shooting stars?
No, were not.
Havent got all that time.
Looking for a common ground,
Not the other way around
For you and i.
Got to find a common ground.
Need to make a lovin sound
While we got time,
You and i.
And we still have the time to make it work right,
Make that sun come to shine
And wake up this endless night.
And who do we think we are,
Some kind of cosmic shooting stars?
No were not.
Havent got all that time.
Got to find a common ground,
Not the other way around,

[...] Read more

song performed by Neil Diamond
Added by Lucian Velea
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Solace Amongst The Sin

Farewell to the west now
And welcome, to the east
Farewell to the one who raked, the sand beneath my feet
Thank you for the space we shared, and the heart and soul my friend
I will see you through the colours, between the mountains as the sun decends
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Farewell to the west now
My mind is open to the east
To all the new faces, new minds & things to see
I am alone here, and my heart at times it weeps
You will see me through the colours, as the sun sinks in the sea
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
We will share again
We'll share again
Hmmm, hmmm, oh my friend we'll share again
Oh we will share again

song performed by Xavier Rudd
Added by Lucian Velea
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Solace Amongst The Sin

Farewell to the west now
And welcome, to the east
Farewell to the one who raked, the sand beneath my feet
Thank you for the space we shared, and the heart and soul my friend
I will see you through the colours, between the mountains as the sun decends
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Farewell to the west now
My mind is open to the east
To all the new faces, new minds & things to see
I am alone here, and my heart at times it weeps
You will see me through the colours, as the sun sinks in the sea
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
We will share again
We'll share again
Hmmm, hmmm, oh my friend we'll share again
Oh we will share again

song performed by Xavier Rudd
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!