When I realized, in 1978, that Lucy did represent a new species of human ancestor, and that I had an opportunity to name this new species, I realized this was a revolutionary step in understanding human origins.
quote by Donald Johanson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Lucy Cant Dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Oh lucy look what youre doing Im doing it too
Now youre looking for God in exciting new ways
I say trust him at once which is something these days
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Did the world just explode?
Dont recognize anyone
But youve still got me under your thumb
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Oh oh oh
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Theres tooling your frenzy in the tole savoy
And the sexual noise which is caught up a toy
You live and you die in the blink of an eye
Well I cant make you dance
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Lucy cant dance
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
But you cant buy me off in the stirial (? ) world
Who who who died and made you material girl?
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
So Ill spin while my lunatic lyric goes wrong
Guess Ill put all my eggs in a postmodern song
Lucy cant dance to the noise but she knows what the noise can do
Of the show of the fine reality
Just a few simple words like I love you, I need you
Live and to die in the blink of an eye
Still I cant make you dance
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Lucy cant dance
Dance to the noise
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can
Lucy cant dance but she knows what the noise can do
Can do
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Lucy I know what youre going to going to do
Lucy cant dance
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Rubber Lucy
(clarke)
Lucy youre a floozy
You aint choosy
Youve been flashing those big blue eyes
At the other guys
Dont be surprised
If you dont end up with a
Baby cool it, dont over do it
Always have something left as your standby
Lucy baby keep me in mind
Youre so reckless
A diamond necklace
Aint no substitute for how you feel
Such a steal
Lucy baby lets make it real
Red light outa sight is what youre saying
You dont really think thats true
No help needed youre displaying
Lucy baby, lucy baby, lucy baby, keep me in mind
As the queen bee Ill make your honey
Ill even populate your hive
Ive got a sting that aint so funny
Lucy baby, lucy baby, lucy baby, keep me in mind
Can I try you
Let me buy you
Just a piece of my delight
For the night
Youll find it alright
Lucy baby keep me in mind
Lucy baby, lucy baby, lucy baby, keep me in mind
Lucy baby, lucy baby, lucy baby, keep me in mind
Lucy baby, lucy baby, lucy baby, keep me in mind
Lucy baby, lucy baby, lucy baby, keep me in mind
song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shakedown On 9th Street
Head on down to 9th street gal
Lets go out kicking with the boys and the gals
Wear your dress and bring my ring
Someones gonna get it aint gonna be me
Lucy lucy my gal
Lucy lucy my sweet
Lucy lucy my gal
I was just gonna hit him but Im gonna kill him now
We all met about half past three
Lucy she was rocking by my kicking machine
Too many straits and not enough grease
Thats when lucy got it in the chest I think
Lucy lucy my gal
Lucy lucy my sweet
Lucy lucy my gal
I was just gonna hit him but Im gonna kill him now
Lucy they started fighting I was screaming for him
Boots all dirty sexy and thin
Then on come the lights from the straits in their cars
I was just a laughing when I hit the floor
Lucy lucy my gal
Lucy lucy my sweet
Lucy lucy my gal
I was just gonna hit him but Im gonna kill him now
song performed by Ryan Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tale VIII
THE MOTHER.
There was a worthy, but a simple Pair,
Who nursed a Daughter, fairest of the fair:
Sons they had lost, and she alone remain'd,
Heir to the kindness they had all obtain'd,
Heir to the fortune they design'd for all,
Nor had th' allotted portion then been small;
And now, by fate enrich'd with beauty rare,
They watch'd their treasure with peculiar care:
The fairest features they could early trace,
And, blind with love saw merit in her face -
Saw virtue, wisdom, dignity, and grace;
And Dorothea, from her infant years,
Gain'd all her wishes from their pride or fears;
She wrote a billet, and a novel read,
And with her fame her vanity was fed;
Each word, each look, each action was a cause
For flattering wonder and for fond applause;
She rode or danced, and ever glanced around,
Seeking for praise, and smiling when she found,
The yielding pair to her petitions gave
An humble friend to be a civil slave,
Who for a poor support herself resign'd
To the base toil of a dependant mind:
By nature cold, our Heiress stoop'd to art,
To gain the credit of a tender heart.
Hence at her door must suppliant paupers stand,
To bless the bounty of her beauteous hand:
And now, her education all complete,
She talk'd of virtuous love and union sweet;
She was indeed by no soft passion moved,
But wished with all her soul to be beloved.
Here, on the favour'd beauty Fortune smiled;
Her chosen Husband was a man so mild,
So humbly temper'd, so intent to please,
It quite distress'd her to remain at ease,
Without a cause to sigh, without pretence to tease:
She tried his patience on a thousand modes,
And tried it not upon the roughest roads.
Pleasure she sought, and disappointed, sigh'd
For joys, she said, 'to her alone denied;'
And she was sure 'her parents if alive
Would many comforts for their child contrive:'
The gentle Husband bade her name him one;
'No--that,' she answered, 'should for her be done;
How could she say what pleasures were around?
But she was certain many might be found.'
'Would she some seaport, Weymouth, Scarborough,
[...] Read more
poem by George Crabbe
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Ricky
R: hey lucy, Im home
L: oh ricky, youre so fine
L: youre so fine you blow my mind
L: hey ricky, hey ricky
R: oh lucy, youre so fine
R: youre so fine you blow my mind
R: hey lucy, hey lucy
L: oh ricky, youre so fine
L: you play your bongos all the time
L: hey ricky, hey ricky
R: oh lucy, youre so fine
R: how I love tyo hear you whine
R: hey lucy
L: hey ricky
L: you always play your conga drums, you think you got the right
L: you wake up little ricky in the middle of the night
L: stop shakin your maraccas now and just turn out the light ricky
R: Im sick of fred and ethel always comin over here
R: cause fred eats all our pretzel sticks and then he spills his beer
R: why dont you serve your cassarole and make them disappear lucy
L: oh ricky, whats a girl like me supposed to do
L: you really drive me wild when you sing your babaloo
R: oh lucy, youre so dizzy, dont you have a clue
R: well, heres to you lucy
R: I love you too lucy, too lucy, lets babaloo lucy
L: hey ricky
L: youre always playin at the club, you never let me go
L: Im beggin and Im pleadin but you always tell me no
L: oh, please honey please, let me be in your show ricky, wah
R: you always burn the roast and you drop the dishes too
R: you iron my new shirt and you burn a hole right through
R: youre such a crazy redhead I just dont know what to do lucy
L: oh ricky
L: what a pity, dont you understand
L: that every days a rerun and the laughters always canned
R: oh lucy
R: Im the latin leader of the band
R: so heres to you lucy
R: lets babaloo lucy, too lucy
R: everybody rumba!
R: ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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The Bridal Of Triermain
Introduction.
I.
Come Lucy! while 'tis morning hour
The woodland brook we needs must pass;
So, ere the sun assume his power,
We shelter in our poplar bower,
Where dew lies long upon the flower,
Though vanish'd from the velvet grass.
Curbing the stream, this stony ridge
May serve us for a silvan bridge;
For here, compell'd to disunite,
Round petty isles the runnels glide,
And chafing off their puny spite,
The shallows murmurers waste their might,
Yielding to footstep free and light
A dry-shod pass from side to side.
II.
Nay, why this hesitating pause?
And, Lucy, as thy step withdraws,
Why sidelong eye the streamlet's brim?
Titania's foot without a slip,
Like, thine, though timid, light, and slim,
From stone to stone might safely trip,
Nor risk the glow-worm clasp to dip
That binds her slipper's silken rim.
Or trust thy lover's strength; nor fear
That this same stalwart arm of mine,
Which could yon oak's prone trunk uprear,
Shall shrink beneath, the burden dear
Of form so slender, light, and fine;
So! now, the danger dared at last,
Look back, and smile at perils past!
III.
And now we reach the favourite glade,
Paled in copsewood, cliff, and stone,
Where never harsher sounds invade,
To break affection's whispering tone,
Than the deep breeze that waves the shade,
Than the small brooklet's feeble moan.
Come! rest thee on thy wonted seat;
Moss'd is the stone, the turf is green,
A place where lovers best may meet
Who would not that their love be seen.
The boughs, that dim the summer sky,
Shall hide us from each lurking spy,
That fain would spread the invidious tale,
How Lucy of the lofty eye,
Noble in birth, in fortunes high,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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How Lucy Backslid
De times is mighty stirrin' 'mong de people up ouah way,
Dey 'sputin' an' dey argyin' an' fussin' night an' day;
An' all dis monst'ous trouble dat hit meks me tiahed to tell
Is 'bout dat Lucy Jackson dat was sich a mighty belle.
She was de preachah's favoured, an' he tol' de chu'ch one night
Dat she travelled thoo de cloud o' sin a-bearin' of a light;
But, now, I 'low he t'inkin' dat she mus' 'a' los' huh lamp,
Case Lucy done backslided an' dey trouble in de camp.
Huh daddy wants to beat huh, but huh mammy daihs him to,
Fu' she lookin' at de question f'om a ooman's pint o' view;
An' she say dat now she would n't have it diff'ent ef she could;
Dat huh darter only acted jes' lak any othah would.
Cose you know w'en women argy, dey is mighty easy led
By dey hea'ts an' don't go foolin' 'bout de reasons of de haid.
So huh mammy laid de law down (she ain' reckernizin' wrong),
But you got to mek erlowance fu' de cause dat go along.
Now de cause dat made Miss Lucy fu' to th'ow huh grace away
I 's afeard won't baih no 'spection w'en hit come to jedgement day;
Do' de same t'ing been a-wo'kin' evah sence de worl' began,--
De ooman disobeyin' fu' to 'tice along a man.
Ef you 'tended de revivals which we held de wintah pas',
You kin rickolec' dat convuts was a-comin' thick an' fas';
But dey ain't no use in talkin', dey was all lef' in de lu'ch
W'en ol' Mis' Jackson's dartah foun' huh peace an' tuk de chu'ch.
W'y, she shouted ovah evah inch of Ebenezah's flo';
Up into de preachah's pulpit an' f'om dah down to de do';
Den she hugged an' squeezed huh mammy, an' she hugged an' kissed
huh dad,
An' she struck out at huh sistah, people said, lak she was mad.
I has 'tended some revivals dat was lively in my day,
An' I 's seed folks git 'uligion in mos' evah kin' o' way;
But I tell you, an' you b'lieve me dat I 's speakin' true indeed,
Dat gal tuk huh 'ligion ha'dah dan de ha'dest yit I 's seed.
Well, f'om dat, 't was 'Sistah Jackson, won't you please do dis er dat?'
She mus' allus sta't de singin' w'en dey 'd pass erroun' de hat,
An' hit seemed dey was n't nuffin' in dat chu'ch dat could go by
'Dout sistah Lucy Jackson had a finger in de pie.
But de sayin' mighty trufeful dat hit easiah to sail
W'en de sea is ca'm an' gentle dan to weathah out a gale.
Dat 's whut made dis ooman's trouble; ef de sto'm had kep' away,
[...] Read more
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Gaberlunzie's Walk
The Laird is dead, the laird is dead,
An' dead is cousin John,
His henchmen ten, an' his sax merrie men,
Forbye the steward's son.
An' his ain guid gray that he strode sae gay
When hunt was up an' on,
An' the win' blew fair, an' the grews pu'd sair,
An' dawn was on Maol-don,
An' the skeigh steeds neigh'd, an' the slot-hounds bay'd,
An' up gaed the mornin' sun,
An' awa' gaed the deer wi' the merrie men's cheer,
Awa' owre the auld Maol-don,
An' awa' wi' a shout ran the rabble an' the rout,
An' awa' rode cousin John,
Wi' his horn, his horn, thro' the merry merry morn,
His hunter's horn sae shrill!
An' 't was 'Ho, heigho, hereawa',
Hereawa', hereawa'!
Ho, heigho, hereawa'!'
A' roun' the hill!
Walie! walie! they're a' gane dead,
A' owre the seas an' awa'
The laird an' his men, the sax an' the ten,
They gaed to fight and to fa'.
An' walie, an' wae, an' hech! the weary day!
The laird is dead an' a'!
A' in ae grave by the margent o' the wave
Thegither they lay doun,
Sax feet deep, where dead men sleep,
A' i' the faeman's grun'.
Foremost i' the van, wi' his bagpipes i' his han',
The steward's ae braw son,
An' next the young laird-gin the guid Lord had spared!-
A' as he led them on,
Wi' his bonnie brow bare an' his lang fair hair,
An' his bluidy braid-sword drawn;
An' hard by his chief, that in life was sae lief,
In death cam cousin John,
Wi' his horn, his horn, thro' the merry merry morn,
His hunter's horn sae shrill
When 't was 'Ho, heigho, hereawa',
Hereawa', hereawa'!'
[...] Read more
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Juicy Lucy
Every time I call her name shes right there by my side
Every time that I think its a change
Theres no place left to hide
This must be for real
This must be for real
This must be for real
It cant be a dream
Every time I blow my love
Shes knockin on my back door
Every time that I tear her clothes
She pulls me down some more
This must be for real
This must be for real
This must be for real
It cant be a dream
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Scary woman put me under, under her spell
Never tell, if I risk it I ____ her
There still standin, try to get my hand in
But she gets away________one stride
Every day she comes around
Lookin good and tryin to catch my eye
Aint no way to tell her no
I guess I never even thought to try
This must be for real
This must be for real
This must be for real
It cant be a dream
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Every time I tie her down she wants to let me go
Every time I start to slide
Shes tellin me Im way to slow
This must be for real
This must be for real
This must be for real
It cant be a dream
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy lucy
Juicy, juicy, juicy, juicy
song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Next Step
I wanna go up where something matters
I wanna blow up where matter scatters
I wanna live into the future
I want to give... more girl
Next step
No side stepping this time
Cross over life on the line
One thing to talk big
Go to follow thru
All set
Got to get past the present too
Dont want to reach out for yesterday
Dont want to block the shock of the new
I wanna see what new love will bring
Im gonna give all that love to you
Whats the next step
My mind is open wide
Next step
Whatll be the next step baby
Whats the next step
Im finished with the past
Next step
Wont be the last step baby
You wanna wake up with me beside you
You wanna shake off bad thoughts inside you
Were gonna walk on into tomorrow
Were gonna have more fun now
Dont look around for yesterday
No blocking out the shock of the new
Do you wanna see what new love can bring
Im gonna give all that love to you
Whats the next step
My mind is open wide
Next step
Whatll be the next step baby
Whats the next step
I havent got a clue
Next step
Wanna make the next step with you
Whats the next step
Gonna take it gonna take it
Next step
Gonna step right
Wont step back
Whats the next step
No bad songs
No bad songs
Next step
Say hey
Dont you want to take the next step
[...] Read more
song performed by Hall & Oates
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Lucy Leave
Leave, when I ask you to leave, lucy
Please, far away from me, lucy
Oh, go little girl
Seen, is (oh so) broken up about you, lucy
Mean, treat me and done me harm, lucy
Been, in love with you and your charms, lucy
Oh, go little girl
Im in love with you, lucy
You got my heart
You got my heart, oh no!
You tear me apart
You just wont let me go
You hold on so tight, so tight I just cant breath
Now lucy leave, lucy
Leave, when I ask you to leave, little girl
Please, far away from me, little girl
Yeah! go little girl
Seen, is (oh so) broken up about you, lucy
Yeah!
Go.
song performed by Pink Floyd
Added by Lucian Velea
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Discovered
SEEN you down at chu'ch las' night,
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
What I mean? oh, dat 's all right,
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
You was sma't ez sma't could be,
But you could n't hide f'om me.
Ain't I got two eyes to see!
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Guess you thought you's awful keen;
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Evahthing you done, I seen;
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Seen him tek yo' ahm jes' so,
When he got outside de do'-
Oh, I know dat man's yo' beau!
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Say now, honey, wha'd he say?-
Nevah min', Miss Lucy!
Keep yo' secrets-dat's yo' way-
Nevah min', Miss Lucy.
Won't tell me an' I'm yo' pal!-
I'm gwine tell his othah gal,-
Know huh, too, huh name is Sal;
Nevah min', Miss Lucy!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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No Step
I looked out of my window, saw a stencil black,
No step. no step.
There were nervous mothers with children crying in the back.
No step. no step.
Someone bought me my ticket, now Im on the wing.
Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing?
No step. no step.
Those afterburners cut in and kicked us high.
No step. no step.
The thin air shimmered, the sun cut through and burned my eye.
No step. no step.
Someone bought me my ticket, now Im on the wing.
Hope my angels are watching me, do I hear them sing?
No step.
No step no step.
No step no step.
No step no step.
Give me a jet stream schooner or a crew-legged goose.
No step. no step.
Im a clear-air jockey when they turn me loose
No step. no step.
Someone bought me my ticket to the captains seat.
Will the shakes soon leave me, will I find my feet?
No step. no step.
No step. no step.
No step.
song performed by Jethro Tull
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucy
(sylvester / clarke / hicks)
Got a call from the doctor
He said hold on my friend
Youve gotta know what Im knowing
Please come right away
He said lucys been seeing me
And things just aint right
Youll have to hold things together
cos lucy aint much time
Now should I tell her or keep it inside
Making her happy by feeding her lines
How am I gonna tell the children
That mamas goin away
I couldnt love another woman
Oh lucy please stay
If Im gonna lose you
After all this time
Im gonna make life more beautiful
Im gonna make you make you feel fine
If we make tomorrow
Well make it better every way
Well keep on building
cause were living day to day
Chorus
I couldnt love another woman
Lucy please stay
Baby baby
Baby lucy please oh wont you stay
I need you I need you
Please dont go please dont go
Lucy please please wont you stay
I want you to know that I love you
I love you
Im gonna miss your sweet love
Lucy wont you stay
I need you, I need you.
Please dont go, please dont go.
Lucy, please, please, wont you stay?
I want you to know that I love you.
I love you.
Im gonna miss your sweet love.
Lucy, wont you stay?
song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucy The Jack Russel
Talking to Sharon about Lucy at the condo the other night,
I discovered her dog is a breed with very good eyesight.
She is a hunter and can sense what’s there,
Lucy always stops to smell the air.
Lucy is always ready to run,
Sharon holds her back she would take off for fun.
Lucy has spots gold on her back all in a row,
even on her belly gold spots do show.
Lucy is a Jack Russel and another breed as well,
Sharon thinks possibly Beagle, but it’s hard to tell.
Sharon knows one thing for sure,
she loves to chase after squirrels.
Lucy can catch the squirrel by the tail,
she’s really fast, you won’t hear the squirrel yell.
Lucy is precious to Sharon for she is like her child,
Lucy makes Sharon happy with a smile.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on January 11,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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From Four Saints in Three Acts
Pigeons on the grass alas.
Pigeons on the grass alas.
Short longer grass short longer longer shorter yellow grass. Pigeons
large pigeons on the shorter longer yellow grass alas pigeons on the
grass.
If they were not pigeons what were they.
If they were not pigeons on the grass alas what were they. He had
heard of a third and he asked about if it was a magpie in the sky.
If a magpie in the sky on the sky can not cry if the pigeon on the
grass alas can alas and to pass the pigeon on the grass alas and the
magpie in the sky on the sky and to try and to try alas on the
grass alas the pigeon on the grass the pigeon on the grass and alas.
They might be very well they might be very well very well they might
be.
Let Lucy Lily Lily Lucy Lucy let Lucy Lucy Lily Lily Lily Lily
Lily let Lily Lucy Lucy let Lily. Let Lucy Lily.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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Baby Step Back
Now it looks to me like the same old place
In the sky it looks like rain
The same old town with the same old streets
The address has not change
You can find me there
With the door shut tight
And the one wish that remains
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
No you know I dont write no bad checks
I have no wish to repent
Ive seen a few
But whatever I do
I dont cause no accidents
Whiskey and wine help me pass the time
I dont leave no evidence
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Still I dont kneel down
I was born to fight
So youd best leave me alone
Maybe Ill get much more than I need
Or much less than I should own
Last of all let me say it again
Either step up or step on
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Baby step back baby step back
Either step up or step back
Baby walk back baby walk back
Either walk on or walk back
Baby step back ...
song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Summer In Tuscany
Do you remember, Lucy,
How, in the days gone by
We spent a summer together,
A summer in Tuscany,
In the chestnut woods by the river,
You and the rest and I?
Your house had the largest garden,
But ours was next to the bridge,
And we had a mulberry alley
Which sloped to the water's edge.
You were always talking and laughing
On your side of the hedge.
How many sisters and brothers,
Lucy, then did you own?
Harriet and Francis and Horace
And Phyllis, a flower half--blown.
I liked you more than the others,
For you had the longest gown.
What has become of the laughter,
What of the mulberry trees?
Is there no record in Heaven,
No echo of days like these?
Francis is married and happy
And Horace beyond the seas.
Phyllis was first to desert us,
She had no soul for the Earth
But lingered a guest impatient
Alike of our sorrow and mirth.
Death's step to her on the threshold
Seemed news of a glorious birth.
Harriet, whose eyes were the brightest
The fullest of innocent guile,
Has hidden her joy and our sorrow
Under a Carmelite veil.
They call her the ``mother abbess.''
She has hardly leisure to smile.
Do you remember the ponies
We used to ride on the hill,
Every knee of them broken,
Every back like a quill,
Cesare, Capitano,
Milor and Jack and Jill?
High o'er the plains and the valleys,
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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