No man ever quite believes in any other man.
quote by H.L. Mencken
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give The Po Man A Break
Give po man a break
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[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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She Believes In Love Again
I want her I need her
But I never let her know before
Kept her in the dark
Thought I lost her heart forever
She told me just show me
The feelings that you keep inside
And I promise that
We can put it back together
She believes in love again
She belives in me
Now weve gone far beyond
The way we used to be
And in her eyes from deep inside
She finally let me see
She believes in love again
She belives in me
I woke up I spoke up
And let her know the way I feel
Changes I could make
Wouldnt have to take a lifetime
She wants me she needs me
She always let me know before
And now its up to me
To give her all the things she needs the right way
She believes in love again
She belives in me
Now weve gone far beyond
The way we used to be
And in her eyes from deep inside
She finally let me see
She believes in love again
She belives in me
I just nearly blew it
How could I do it
I think about the pain I had put her through
God Im sorry
She said shed recover
If only Id love her
Shed open up her soul
And share her life with me
She believes in love again
She belives in me
Now weve gone far beyond
The way we used to be
And in her eyes from deep inside
She finally let me see
She believes in love again
She believes in me
In her eyes from deep inside
She finally let me see that
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Someone Who Believes In You
Written by: neil diamond
Believe me
Im someone who believes in you
Say, you really had a million dollars
And a car for every day of the week
So what? you know what?
It wouldnt mean not a single thing
Without that someone
Who believes it too
Yeah, you gotta have someone
Who believes in you
Say, you really had a hollywood contract
And your face up on the big billboard
Big car, big star
Youd move a lot, but you wouldnt get far
Without that someone
Who believes it too
You better have someone
Who believes in you
You are the truest part of me
That quiet place where I can be strong
You come to fill my deepest needs
You call my name, and I hear your song
Believe me
Theres someone who believes in you
So, you really got the hots for stardom
All you need is some big guitar
To take you, and make you
Into an overnight star
And then youll find that
Stars get lonesome too
And you better have someone
Who believes in you
You are the truest part of me
That tender place where I can be strong
You come to fill my deepest needs
You speak my name, and I hear your song
So you really want a job in the circus
Paint you face and make the people smile
A clown, come on down
Youve been too long walking that high wire
When youre falling, youll be calling to
Be calling out to someone who believes you
Someone whos there when nobody needs you
Calling out to someone who believes in you
song performed by Neil Diamond
Added by Lucian Velea
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Someone Who Believes In You
When there's a dark storm on your horizon
And you think you can't get through it
Just put your hand in my hand
And I'll show you how to do it
When the future looks uncertain
You can count on me to be there
And when your heart and soul are hurtin'
Just look and you'll see me there
Just follow where I lead
I'll give you what you need
A love that's always true
And someone who believes in you
So when you're searching for that rainbow
I will help you find it
And when a mountain stands before you
I will help you climb it
Just follow where I lead
I'll give you what you need
A love that's always true
And someone who believes in you
It's time to come alive
Your moment has arrived
I'll bring out the best in you
We can have it all
No, we will never fall
Looking down from our celestial view
Just follow where I lead
I'll give you what you need
And I'll tell you something else
You'll start believing in yourself
It's an easy thing to do
When you have someone who believes in you
Someone who believes
Someone who believes
I'm someone who believes
And you've got someone who believes in you
song performed by Air Supply
Added by Lucian Velea
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Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Bishop Blougram's Apology
No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.
So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
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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She Believes In Me
i'm tossing and turning and i can't get to sleep
got something on my mind - i just can't release
then she whispers so softly - that she believes in me
if i let her down - and tried to disguise it
she always see through it always replies that
no matter what i do - she believes in me
all the times i failed - gone slighty off the rails
she's there to remind me - she believes in me
when it all goes wrong and i feel i'm own
she's there to remind me - she believes in me
don't get me wrong - i not some kind of fool
i give her my world if she asked me to
cuz here's no denying - she believes in me
but i'm only human - i'm just a guy
that sometimes makes mistakes and i can't explain why
some say crazy - but she believes in me
song performed by Bryan Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Halo
Bright light city
Youre her religion
Superstars in their own private movie
Play just like children
Lies that take her
Places shes never seen
The kiss and tell of it all
To her it seems so obscene
Shes so pretty
Her hair is a mess
We all love her
To that we confess
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
For their blindness
She sees much further
Like on a wide-screen viewing
Going down on her
Shes so pretty
Her hair is a mess
We all love her
To that we confess
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
She believes in everything
She believes in nothing, in everything
Halo, halo, halo, halo
Halo, halo, halo, halo
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
She believes in everything
She believes in nothing, in everything
She believes in everything
She believes in nothing, in everything
For she has a halo
She has a halo
song performed by Texas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Halo
Bright light city
Youre her religion
Superstars in their own private movie
Play just like children
Lies that take her
Places shes never seen
The kiss and tell of it all
To her it seems so obscene
Shes so pretty
Her hair is a mess
We all love her
To that we confess
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
For their blindness
She sees much further
Like on a wide-screen viewing
Going down on her
Shes so pretty
Her hair is a mess
We all love her
To that we confess
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
She believes in everything
She believes in nothing, in everything
Halo, halo, halo, halo
Halo, halo, halo, halo
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
She has a halo
We really do adore her
For she has a halo
Can we touch her
She believes in everything
She believes in nothing, in everything
She believes in everything
She believes in nothing, in everything
For she has a halo
She has a halo
song performed by Texas
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Essay on Psychiatrists
I. Invocation
It‘s crazy to think one could describe them—
Calling on reason, fantasy, memory, eves and ears—
As though they were all alike any more
Than sweeps, opticians, poets or masseurs.
Moreover, they are for more than one reason
Difficult to speak of seriously and freely,
And I have never (even this is difficult to say
Plainly, without foolishness or irony)
Consulted one for professional help, though it happens
Many or most of my friends have—and that,
Perhaps, is why it seems urgent to try to speak
Sensibly about them, about the psychiatrists.
II. Some Terms
“Shrink” is a misnomer. The religious
Analogy is all wrong, too, and the old,
Half-forgotten jokes about Viennese accents
And beards hardly apply to the good-looking woman
In boots and a knit dress, or the man
Seen buying the Sunday Times in mutton-chop
Whiskers and expensive running shoes.
In a way I suspect that even the terms “doctor”
And “therapist” are misnomers; the patient
Is not necessarily “sick.” And one assumes
That no small part of the psychiatrist’s
Role is just that: to point out misnomers.
III. Proposition
These are the first citizens of contingency.
Far from the doctrinaire past of the old ones,
They think in their prudent meditations
Not about ecstasy (the soul leaving the body)
Nor enthusiasm (the god entering one’s person)
Nor even about sanity (which means
Health, an impossible perfection)
But ponder instead relative truth and the warm
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Pinsky
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The Fyftene Loyes Of Maryage
Somer passed/and wynter well begone
The dayes shorte/the darke nyghtes longe
Haue taken season/and brynghtnes of the sonne
Is lytell sene/and small byrdes songe
Seldon is herde/in feldes or wodes ronge
All strength and ventue/of trees and herbes sote
Dyscendynge be/from croppe in to the rote
And euery creature by course of kynde
For socoure draweth to that countre and place
Where for a tyme/they may purchace and fynde
Conforte and rest/abydynge after grace
That clere Appolo with bryghtnes of his face
Wyll sende/whan lusty ver shall come to towne
And gyue the grounde/of grene a goodly gowne
And Flora goddesse bothe of whyte and grene
Her mantell large/ouer all the erthe shall sprede
Shewynge her selfe/apparayled lyke a quene
As well in feldes/wodes/as in mede
Hauynge so ryche a croune vpon her hede
The whiche of floures/shall be so fayre and bryght
That all the worlde/shall take therof a lyght
So now it is/of late I was desyred
Out of the trenche to drawe a lytell boke
Of .xv. Ioyes/of whiche though I were hyred
I can not tell/and yet I vndertoke
This entrepryse/with a full pyteous loke
Remembrynge well/the case that stode in
Lyuynge in hope/this wynter to begyn
Some Ioyes to fynde that be in maryage
For in my youth/yet neuer acquayntaunce
Had of them but now in myn olde aege
I trust my selfe/to forther and auaunce
If that in me/there lacke no suffysaunce
Whiche may dyspleasyr/clerely set a parte
I wante but all/that longeth to that arte
yet wyll I speke/though I may do no more
Fully purposynge/in all these Ioyes to trete
Accordynge to my purpose made to fore
All be it so/I can not well forgete
The payne/trauayle/besynes and hete
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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She Talks About Love
Once in a lifetime....
Down at the end, the end of the line
There's a girl who waits for love
She is the one he's hoping for
But there's another one she's thinking of
She doesn't know his name, doesn't know his face
She'll recognize the feeling in any case
She'll be swept away by the flies inside
Make her beautiful, make her come alive
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
She falls and she falls but never laughs
In the arms of the one she wants
Fights for a dream she's never seen
In a world of rocks and stones
Ands she knows it's there, knows it does exist
A feeling oh so real, almost divine bliss
Takes her breath away, a gem beyond compare
Makes her weak in the knees, she knows that love is rare
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
The measure of time
Will prevent what's mine
She believes in once upon a time
Once in a lifetime
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
song performed by Vitamin C
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Mother's Lesson
Come hither an' sit on my knee, Willie,
Come hither an' sit on my knee,
An' list while I tell how your brave brither fell,
Fechtin' for you an' for me:
Fechtin' for you an' for me, Willie,
Wi' his guid sword in his han'.
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!
Ye min' o' your ain brither dear, Willie,
Ye min' o' your ain brither dear,
How he pettled ye aye wi' his pliskies an' play,
An' was aye sae cantie o' cheer:
Aye sae cantie o' cheer, Willie,
As he steppit sae tall an' sae gran',
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.
D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun, Willie,
D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun?
D'ye min' wha grippit ye fra the big bull,
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun'?
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun', Willie,
D'ye min' how the bluid doun ran?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.
D'ye min' when we a' wanted bread, Willie,
the year when we a' wanted bread?
How he smiled when he saw the het parritch an' a',
An' gaed cauld an' toom to his bed:
Gaed awa' toom to his bed, Willie,
For the love o' wee Willie an' Nan?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!
Next simmer was bright but an' ben, Willie,
Next simmer was bright but an' ben,
When there cam a gran' cry like a win' strang an' high
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen:
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen, Willie,
The cry o' a far forrin lan',
An' up loupit ilka brave man, Willie,
Up loupit ilka brave man.
[...] Read more
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.
SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.
Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.
FIRST Angel.
Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.
SECOND Angel.
How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.
THIRD Angel.
O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.
FOURTH Angel.
Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,
[...] Read more
poem by William Cowper
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Custer
BOOK FIRST.
I.
ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy.
Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy
To sing of deeds as dauntless and as brave
As e'er lent luster to a warrior's grave.
Sing of that noble soldier, nobler man,
Dear to the heart of each American.
Sound forth his praise from sea to listening sea-
Greece her Achilles claimed, immortal Custer, we.
II.
Intrepid are earth's heroes now as when
The gods came down to measure strength with men.
Let danger threaten or let duty call,
And self surrenders to the needs of all;
Incurs vast perils, or, to save those dear,
Embraces death without one sigh or tear.
Life's martyrs still the endless drama play
Though no great Homer lives to chant their worth to-day.
III.
And if he chanted, who would list his songs,
So hurried now the world's gold-seeking throngs?
And yet shall silence mantle mighty deeds?
Awake, dear Muse, and sing though no ear heeds!
Extol the triumphs, and bemoan the end
Of that true hero, lover, son and friend
Whose faithful heart in his last choice was shown-
Death with the comrades dear, refusing flight alone.
IV.
He who was born for battle and for strife
Like some caged eagle frets in peaceful life;
So Custer fretted when detained afar
From scenes of stirring action and of war.
And as the captive eagle in delight,
When freedom offers, plumes himself for flight
And soars away to thunder clouds on high,
With palpitating wings and wild exultant cry,
V.
So lion-hearted Custer sprang to arms,
And gloried in the conflict's loud alarms.
[...] Read more
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Quintet of Revelations
Part 1: The Mystic Man
In the beginning
The world was a dark colorless wasteland
Lightning littered the sky in dark clouds
A mystical being creates life surrounded by shroud
The Mystic Man makes light
The Mystic Man makes night
The Mystic Man makes wrong
The Mystic Man makes right
The world is now surrounded by light and night
Lightning strikes fertile soil creating plants
Green is the first color created by the Mystic Man
Drawing a bone from his ribs he makes man
The world is growing surrounded by light and night
The Mystic Man commands the man
Showing him how to use the land
Which was made by the Mystic Man
The Mystic Man lets the man understand
How to use his holy land
Finally the man understands
And is granted a woman by the Mystic Man
A woman to help him take care of the land
The land that was shaped by the Mystic Man
Together the woman and the man
Take care of the Mystic Man’s holy land
In peace and prosperity they use the land
To make a great family
The beginning of man
For two hundred years
They farmed that land
The land formed by the Mystic Man
They found the first civilization of man
Part 2: The Man of Darkness
Ten thousand years
After the first woman and man
And the making of the land by the Mystic Man
A Man of Darkness rises from the depths
To spread terror and fear to mortal man
This Man of Darkness has no mercy
This Man of Darkness has no love
[...] Read more
poem by Alex Fischer
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From Russia Infected
Seen the man?
New disease
Everybodys infected.
Seen the man?
Hell storm your heart
Everybody believes.
Seen the man?
Sly new game
Kiss another cute baby.
Seen the man?
No war machine
So everybody wants peace?
Everybodys infected
Everybody believes.
Ive been looking for something
But it just gets harder
I could look for ever
What am I going to do.
Storm the heart
Boy threw up
Everybodys disgusted.
Storm the heart
Girl went down
Everybody looked shocked.
Storm the heart
New young thing
Everybodys obsession.
Storm the heart
levi jeans
Think its cool to kill.
Everybodys infected
Everybody believes.
One more reason
One more lie.
Dreams are cruel
This is life
It replaced religion.
Change your mind
Make it mine
Everybody looks sad.
Dirty film
Ten years old
This is russia infected.
Party time
Time runs out
Everybody go home.
Everybodys infected
Everybody believes.
song performed by Gary Numan
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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poem by John Milton
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