I respect the people who buy my records and come to my concerts. It's only fair that I always try to give them the very best that's in me. After all, I need them more than they need me.
quote by Andy Gibb
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Make Me Rich
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Horns and tambourines'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Congas'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
' And to the bridge'
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Give The Po Man A Break
Give po man a break
Give po man a break
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
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Give po man a
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Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Goblin Market
MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries--
All ripe together
In summer weather--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy."
Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger-tips.
"Lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
"O! cried Lizzie, Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men."
[...] Read more
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Added by Poetry Lover
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Daily Records
This could be suffering
This could be suffering
This could be pleasure
This could be pleasure
Im unaware of any difference
Im unaware of any difference
My head is aging
My head is aging
My balls are aching
My balls are aching
But Im not looking for deliverence
But Im not looking for deliverence
This could be letting on
This could be letting on
This could be highly cut
This could be highly cut
Im unaware of ~any difference
Im unaware of ~any difference
One says it cant be done
One says it cant be done
Then somebody does it - but
Then somebody does it - but
Im not watching for equivalents.
Im not watching for equivalents.
I just dont quite know how to wear my hair no more
I just dont quite know how to wear my hair no more
No sooner cut it than they cut it even more
No sooner cut it than they cut it even more
Got to admit that I created private worlds
Got to admit that I created private worlds
Cold sex and booze dont impress my little girls
Cold sex and booze dont impress my little girls
Daily records
Daily records
Just want to be making daily records
Just want to be making daily records
Try to avoid the bad news in the letters
Try to avoid the bad news in the letters
Just wanna be making records
Just wanna be making records
Play in - play out - fade in - fade out
Play in - play out - fade in - fade out
Making records day in - day out
Making records day in - day out
And they say its just a stage in life
And they say its just a stage in life
But I know by now the problem is a stage
But I know by now the problem is a stage
And they say just take your time and itll go away
And they say just take your time and itll go away
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Please Don't Buy His Music
Dark rewrite of Rihanna's Please Don't Stop The Music
Please don't buy his music
Please don't buy his music
Please don't buy his music
Please don't buy his music
Before it's too late
I'm got to take a stand
Confess and rock up this place
I gotta stop his cash from flowing
So that I can help to take his drugs away
My somebody boyfriend has got to go back to being a nobody
Or there's no way that I can stay
Rehab candidate for sure, yeah
Never could have knew
Never thought that he would get so caught up
Start striking out at me and our crew
His dirty little habit is making staying so impossible
Poor baby, I used to find him so incredible
Now if he won't go get some help, help
I won't be stayin'
Oh no, I won't
Don't wanna even get me started
All he ever wants to do is party
Always feelin' up those hos out on the dance floor, actin' naughty
Layin' my love and our romance to waste
Hurts so much watchin' my player play
Later I know he's gonna take his hands to my face
Because I dared to confront him
He thinks he'll teach me my place
I just wanna take his drugs away
Escape back into our music, no more hurtin'
Standin' by and watchin' my player play
I just can't go on like this
I refuse to do it
Somehow gotta stop him from dopin' up
So fans I'm beggin' you
Please don't his, please don't buy his music
I just wanna take his drugs away
Escape back into our music, no more hurtin'
Standin' by and watchin' my player play
I just can't go on like this
I refuse to do it
Somehow gotta stop him from dopin' up
So fans I'm beggin' you
Please don't his, please don't buy his music
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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The Princess Betrothed To The King Of Garba
WHAT various ways in which a thing is told
Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold;
In stories we invention may admit;
But diff'rent 'tis with what historick writ;
Posterity demands that truth should then
Inspire relation, and direct the pen.
ALACIEL'S story's of another kind,
And I've a little altered it, you'll find;
Faults some may see, and others disbelieve;
'Tis all the same:--'twill never make me grieve;
Alaciel's mem'ry, it is very clear,
Can scarcely by it lose; there's naught to fear.
Two facts important I have kept in view,
In which the author fully I pursue;
The one--no less than eight the belle possessed,
Before a husband's sight her eyes had blessed;
The other is, the prince she was to wed
Ne'er seemed to heed this trespass on his bed,
But thought, perhaps, the beauty she had got
Would prove to any one a happy lot.
HOWE'ER this fair, amid adventures dire,
More sufferings shared than malice could desire;
Though eight times, doubtless, she exchanged her knight
No proof, that she her spouse was led to slight;
'Twas gratitude, compassion, or good will;
The dread of worse;--she'd truly had her fill;
Excuses just, to vindicate her fame,
Who, spite of troubles, fanned the monarch's flame:
Of eight the relict, still a maid received ;--
Apparently, the prince her pure believed;
For, though at times we may be duped in this,
Yet, after such a number--strange to miss!
And I submit to those who've passed the scene,
If they, to my opinion, do not lean.
THE king of Alexandria, Zarus named,
A daughter had, who all his fondness claimed,
A star divine Alaciel shone around,
The charms of beauty's queen were in her found;
With soul celestial, gracious, good, and kind,
And all-accomplished, all-complying mind.
THE, rumour of her worth spread far and wide,
The king of Garba asked her for his bride,
And Mamolin (the sov'reign of the spot,)
To other princes had a pref'rence got.
THE fair, howe'er, already felt the smart
[...] Read more
poem by La Fontaine
Added by Poetry Lover
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Pearl
Pearl of delight that a prince doth please
To grace in gold enclosed so clear,
I vow that from over orient seas
Never proved I any in price her peer.
So round, so radiant ranged by these,
So fine, so smooth did her sides appear
That ever in judging gems that please
Her only alone I deemed as dear.
Alas! I lost her in garden near:
Through grass to the ground from me it shot;
I pine now oppressed by love-wound drear
For that pearl, mine own, without a spot.
2
Since in that spot it sped from me,
I have looked and longed for that precious thing
That me once was wont from woe to free,
To uplift my lot and healing bring,
But my heart doth hurt now cruelly,
My breast with burning torment sting.
Yet in secret hour came soft to me
The sweetest song I e'er heard sing;
Yea, many a thought in mind did spring
To think that her radiance in clay should rot.
O mould! Thou marrest a lovely thing,
My pearl, mine own, without a spot.
3
In that spot must needs be spices spread
Where away such wealth to waste hath run;
Blossoms pale and blue and red
There shimmer shining in the sun;
No flower nor fruit their hue may shed
Where it down into darkling earth was done,
For all grass must grow from grains that are dead,
No wheat would else to barn be won.
From good all good is ever begun,
And fail so fair a seed could not,
So that sprang and sprouted spices none
From that precious pearl without a spot.
4
That spot whereof I speak I found
When I entered in that garden green,
As August's season high came round
When corn is cut with sickles keen.
There, where that pearl rolled down, a mound
With herbs was shadowed fair and sheen,
With gillyflower, ginger, and gromwell crowned,
And peonies powdered all between.
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
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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
Added by Poetry Lover
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Powerless Money – The Hidden Secret
You can buy bed from money but you cannot buy sleep.
You can satisfy your lust from money but cannot buy love.
You can buy corrupts from money but cannot buy honesty.
You can buy cage for birds but cannot buy there cheerfulness.
You can buy schools for kids but cannot buy there playfulness.
You can build house from money but not a home from money.
You can buy paintings of artists but cannot buy there creativity.
You can buy medicines to kill pain but cannot buy feelings that give pain.
You can buy a coffin for a dead body but cannot buy a life for him.
You can buy flesh and meat to eat but cannot buy a life for them.
You can buy the beautiful flowers but cannot buy fragrance of flowers.
You can buy poems of poet but cannot buy emotions of there heart.
You can do many things with money
still you will see that you are helpless.
Life will no more be graceful
and you will see how money is so powerless.
Money is given power by those who want to rule you.
- By those who want to rule your body and mind.
- By those who want to make you dance as a puppet.
- By those who want to sale your talent in market.
And we are doing all this, making money more and more powerful.
And we forget that money is so powerless, may be we are a big fool.
poem by Ramesh Kavdia
Added by Poetry Lover
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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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The Golden Age
Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.
Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.
Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Austin
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Iliad: Book 9
Thus did the Trojans watch. But Panic, comrade of blood-stained
Rout, had taken fast hold of the Achaeans and their princes were all
of them in despair. As when the two winds that blow from Thrace- the
north and the northwest- spring up of a sudden and rouse the fury of
the main- in a moment the dark waves uprear their heads and scatter
their sea-wrack in all directions- even thus troubled were the
hearts of the Achaeans.
The son of Atreus in dismay bade the heralds call the people to a
council man by man, but not to cry the matter aloud; he made haste
also himself to call them, and they sat sorry at heart in their
assembly. Agamemnon shed tears as it were a running stream or cataract
on the side of some sheer cliff; and thus, with many a heavy sigh he
spoke to the Achaeans. "My friends," said he, "princes and councillors
Of the Argives, the hand of heaven has been laid heavily upon me.
Cruel Jove gave me his solemn promise that I should sack the city of
Troy before returning, but he has played me false, and is now
bidding me go ingloriously back to Argos with the loss of much people.
Such is the will of Jove, who has laid many a proud city in the dust
as he will yet lay others, for his power is above all. Now, therefore,
let us all do as I say and sail back to our own country, for we
shall not take Troy."
Thus he spoke, and the sons of the Achaeans for a long while sat
sorrowful there, but they all held their peace, till at last Diomed of
the loud battle-cry made answer saying, "Son of Atreus, I will chide
your folly, as is my right in council. Be not then aggrieved that I
should do so. In the first place you attacked me before all the
Danaans and said that I was a coward and no soldier. The Argives young
and old know that you did so. But the son of scheming Saturn endowed
you by halves only. He gave you honour as the chief ruler over us, but
valour, which is the highest both right and might he did not give you.
Sir, think you that the sons of the Achaeans are indeed as unwarlike
and cowardly as you say they are? If your own mind is set upon going
home- go- the way is open to you; the many ships that followed you
from Mycene stand ranged upon the seashore; but the rest of us stay
here till we have sacked Troy. Nay though these too should turn
homeward with their ships, Sthenelus and myself will still fight on
till we reach the goal of Ilius, for for heaven was with us when we
came."
The sons of the Achaeans shouted applause at the words of Diomed,
and presently Nestor rose to speak. "Son of Tydeus," said he, "in
war your prowess is beyond question, and in council you excel all
who are of your own years; no one of the Achaeans can make light of
what you say nor gainsay it, but you have not yet come to the end of
the whole matter. You are still young- you might be the youngest of my
own children- still you have spoken wisely and have counselled the
chief of the Achaeans not without discretion; nevertheless I am
older than you and I will tell you every" thing; therefore let no man,
not even King Agamemnon, disregard my saying, for he that foments
civil discord is a clanless, hearthless outlaw.
"Now, however, let us obey the behests of night and get our suppers,
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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No Respect
Ohh whoa ohh....
I respect a man raisin his kids all on his own
I respect a man who makes sure he takes care of home
You gotta respect a man with good judgement
Cuz Ill be damned if someones takin care of my kids
And I respect a man who treats his woman like a queen
I know youre not perfect you aint gotta be so mean
No matter how strong she is for a woman
A man should never attempt to lay his hands on her
Bridge:
Theres more to life than what happens an your block
Just treat your women right and hold em at the top
Gotta raise these kids and teach em, never dont ya stop
You aint no man to me if you let your family starve
Chorus:
Got no respect for them dudes who hit they women and
Got no respect for the fools who leave they children and
I just wanna take care of my family
Got no respect if you aint trying to do the right thing
Got no respect for them dudes who hit they women and
Got no respect for the fools who leave they children and
I just wanna take care of my family
Got no respect if you aint trying to do the right thing
I respect the type of girl that tries to love a man
With many flaws and broken laws but still he stands
The kinda girl who turns a boy into a man
The kinda girl who turns a flop into a plan
No respect for those who walk through life just askin you
What you can do for them but still they hate on you
It dont take no man to make that baby
But yes it takes a man to raise that baby
Bridge:
Theres more to life than what happens an your block
Just treat your women right and hold em at the top
Gotta raise these kids and teach em, never dont ya stop
You aint no man to me if you let your family starve
Chorus:
Got no respect for them dudes who hit they women and
Got no respect for the fools who leave they children and
I just wanna take care of my family
Got no respect if you aint trying to do the right thing
Got no respect for them dudes who hit they women and
Got no respect for the fools who leave they children and
I just wanna take care of my family
Got no respect if you aint trying to do the right thing
Fellas we gotta make a change
In the way that we treat our women and our children yes we do
Hope thats theres a better day
Put your hands to the sky
If you want a change, need a change
[...] Read more
song performed by Jagged Edge
Added by Lucian Velea
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Buy Me A Condo
Gonna buy me a condo
Gonna buy me a cuisinart
Get a wall-to-wall carpeting
Get a wallet full o credit cards
I gonna buy me a condo, never have to mow de lawn
I gonna get me da t-shirt wit de alligator on
Wo, used to live in jamaica but I dont live dere no more
Had to change me lifestyle
Do tings I never done before
So now Im just a lonely rastaman
Living in dis american town
Gonna sell me bob marley records
Gonna get me some jackson browne
I gonna buy me a condo
Gonna buy me a cuisinart
Get a wall-to-wall carpeting
And get a wallet full o credit cards, eh
I gonna buy me a condo, never have to mow de lawn
I gonna get me da t-shirt wit de alligator on
Wo, gonna cut off me dreadlocks
Trow away all me ganja
Ill have a tupperware party
Maybe join me a health spa
Ill get a bowl of plastic fruits
And a microwave oven, too
Then Ill have the neighbors over for a weenie barbeque
Gonna buy me a condo
Gonna buy me a cuisinart
Get a wall-to-wall carpeting
Get a wallet full o credit cards, oh
I gonna buy me a condo, never have to mow de lawn
I get a funny little t-shirt wit de alligator on
Aint gonna work in de field no more
Gonna be amway distributor
Aint gonna work in de field no more (no, no)
Gonna be amway distributor
(ja) ja, ja, ja, life is so very hard
I need a (ja) ja, ja, ja jacuzi in me back yard
Oh, I gonna buy me a condo
Gonna buy me a cuisinart
Get a wall-to-wall carpeting
Get a wallet full o credit cards, eh
I gonna buy me a condo, never have to mow de lawn
I gonna get me da t-shirt wit de alligator on
Whatd you say?
I gonna buy me a condo
I gonna buy me a cuisinart
Get a wall-to-wall carpeting
Get a wallet full o credit cards, oh
I gonna buy me a condo, never have to mow de lawn
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Branded
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
You have the right to smoke a pack
You’re prestige drives a Cadillac
Fragments from your yester-year
Gadgets make you smarter, yeah! !
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
You love to shop and it loves you
It makes sweet hearts say “I do”
You’re cool when you are with the fad
What’s new is good, what’s old is bad
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
A sexy you wears different clothes
Your status, everyone will know
You’re young and you’re teeming with fire
Your lifestyle’s beaming with desire
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, you need it all that’s not a lie
To be a better woman or man
You must buy, buy, buy, buy all you can
You’ve just been branded like a cow
Don’t be mad, look who’s laughing now!
Buy, buy, buy
Baby, here's a bottle, go out and cry
poem by P.R. Prosper
Added by Poetry Lover
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Give Up
(bernard edwards/nile rodgers)
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
You better listen well
When I tell you
To be on the look out
You cant call for help
cause I know you inside out
Despite all your hideouts
Im no great pretender
Ill make you surrender
So come along quietly
Heres a thought to remember
I have not met a man yet
To escape from my drag-net
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Ill give you just the facts man
And you can draw all your own conclusions
Ill keep your mind surrounded
With chains of love so strong
You cant break through them
My arsenal is stocked
With all kinds of seductive weapons
Although your hearts locked up
My love will assist me
So that you cant resist me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
No, no, no
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
Give up, give up
Give up youre love to me
[...] Read more
song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Marmion: Canto V. - The Court
I.
The train has left the hills of Braid;
The barrier guard have open made
(So Lindesay bade) the palisade,
That closed the tented ground;
Their men the warders backward drew,
And carried pikes as they rode through
Into its ample bound.
Fast ran the Scottish warriors there,
Upon the Southern band to stare.
And envy with their wonder rose,
To see such well-appointed foes;
Such length of shaft, such mighty bows,
So huge, that many simply thought,
But for a vaunt such weapons wrought;
And little deemed their force to feel,
Through links of mail, and plates of steel,
When rattling upon Flodden vale,
The clothyard arrows flew like hail.
II.
Nor less did Marmion's skilful view
Glance every line and squadron through;
And much he marvelled one small land
Could marshal forth such various band:
For men-at-arms were here,
Heavily sheathed in mail and plate,
Like iron towers for strength and weight,
On Flemish steeds of bone and height,
With battle-axe and spear.
Young knights and squires, a lighter train,
Practised their chargers on the plain,
By aid of leg, of hand, and rein,
Each warlike feat to show,
To pass, to wheel, the croupe to gain,
The high curvet, that not in vain
The sword sway might descend amain
On foeman's casque below.
He saw the hardy burghers there
March armed, on foot, with faces bare,
For vizor they wore none,
Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight;
But burnished were their corslets bright,
Their brigantines, and gorgets light,
Like very silver shone.
Long pikes they had for standing fight,
Two-handed swords they wore,
And many wielded mace of weight,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
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A Question Of Honor
I respect, another mans religion, or color or creed.
I respect, and follow, the will of my maker.
I respect, the truth, no matter how unpopular.
I respect, a good work ethic.
I respect, the values on which this country was founded.
I respect, those who would champion the under privileged.
I respect, those of differences, who seek common ground.
I respect, the concept of monogamy.
I respect, those faithful to principal.
I respect, change, that is for the better.
I respect, an honest days work.
I respect, the great talents of the entertainment world.
I respect, thought provoking works, of the written word.
I respect, the unquenchable thirst of creativity.
I respect, the farmers and workers that toil in the field.
I respect, the good in man.
I respect, the virtue in woman.
I respect, the innocence of children.
I respect, the generosity of mankind.
Most of all...I respect the maker of
life and the love, that each of us
have within us.
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
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Belief...
I respect, another mans religion, or color or creed.
I respect, and follow, the will of my maker.
I respect, the truth, no matter how unpopular.
I respect, a good work ethic.
I respect, the values on which this country was founded.
I respect, those who would champion the under privileged.
I respect, those of differences, who seek common ground.
I respect, the concept of monogamy.
I respect, those faithful to principal.
I respect, change, that is for the better.
I respect, an honest days work.
I respect, the great talents of the entertainment world.
I respect, thought provoking works, of the written word.
I respect, the unquenchable thirst of creativity.
I respect, the farmers and workers that toil in the field.
I respect, the good in man.
I respect, the virtue in woman.
I respect, the innocence of children.
I respect, the generosity of mankind.
Most of all...I respect the maker of
life and the love, that each of us
have within us.
©Joe Fazio
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
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