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I'm tired of hearing about money, money, money, money, money. I just want to play the game, drink Pepsi, wear Reebok.

quote by Shaquille O'Neal
Added by Lucian Velea
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Luggage Canada

b ean bag stoer
bed liner motorcycle bags
bern aby bag
bed in a bag ty pennington
beetle bags roadstar midnight star
bean bag chairs burbank
bedroom in a bag justine
bean bag guns for purchase
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bed in a bag pink paisley
belt bag tool belt
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bennington golf travel bag
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bean bag stuffing material
bean bag plastic pellets
beijo business bags pastel blue
belkin messenger bag
b ean bag simba
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bean bag tic tac toe
bettz designs knitting tote bags
bean bag toss rules
beth any bag
bean bag chair indigo denim print
bean bag pillows microfiber
be an foam bag
bible buy loaf bag
bebe handbag bag
beverage delivery bags
betty boop harley bag
bichon frise gift bags
ben hogan golf mystique stand bag
bicyce crossbar bag
bean bag shells shotgun

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer in the evening;
Soccer in the morning;
Soccer in spring and fall.

Soccer in the raining;
Soccer in the snowing;
Soccer in winter and summer.

Soccer in between my feet,
where I walk;
Soccer in my heart and mind,
how I live;
Soccer my love and life.

Soccer I wake up and play;
Soccer I hold it to sleep;
Soccer my work and rest.

Soccer I sing a new song;
Soccer I dance the magic steps;
Soccer my tears and joy.

Soccer my Mom buys it for me to play;
Soccer my Dad brings me to the game;
Soccer my dear Love watches me to score.

Soccer I dribble and shoot;
Soccer I pass and fall;
Soccer my glory and downfall.

Soccer I strike to attack;
Soccer I tackle to defend;
Soccer my struggle and survival.

Soccer I receive the flags and the whistles;
Soccer I get the yellow and red card;
Soccer my moves and stop.

Soccer I meet my friends;
Soccer I make my enemies;
Soccer my conflict and peace.

Soccer I play and watch;
Soccer I watch but cannot play;
Soccer my dream and reality.

Soccer I learn the rights;
Soccer I confess the fouls;

[...] Read more

poem by Laijon Liu
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Handles Bermuda

bean bag spokane
betty boop retro bowling bag
beli ni bags
bean bag hawaii
belongs in your bag wedge grab
bedroom in a bag seashells
betsey johnson blue metallic bag
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betty boop big travel bag
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bicycle gear bag
bean bag filler poly fil
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bean bag filler at walmart
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bean bag toss video game
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beige plastic handle bag
bean bags for dogs
bean bag toose game
beg barrow or steal bag
benefits of heavy bag use
bennington cart golf bag
bean bag desktop
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bean bags for cats
bean bag game chicago retailer
ben hogan apex cart bag
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bean bag drink holder
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bean bags inexpensive
bean bag shotgun pics
bedouin bag by radley
b ean bags bulk
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bella animal print bag
beresford packaging plastic bags
bean bag store toronto
ben sherman messenger bags
bejui bags
beijo bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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You Wear It So Well

All of those things
Yeah, that you got to give
Yeah, you wear it so well
Hey, you wear it so well
All of those stories
Honey, that i know you could tell
Yeah, you wear it so well
And your face hides it so we can't tell
That you knew we would wear it so well
You wear it so well
Yeah darling, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah now baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Hey now darling now, yeah, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
All of those things
That make poets sing
You wear it so well
Yeah, you hide it so well
And all of those pain
That you used to tell
You hide it so well
Can't tell from your face that you knew it so well
Hey, now that you have such a story to tell
Yeah, you got style and grace and you wear it so well
You wear it so well
And you got, you got such a story to tell
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well
Grace and style equals you so well
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well, well, yeah, so well
Yeah, you wear it, wear it, wear it now, wear it now, baby
Yeah, now you wear it so well
And you got such a story to tell
(ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh)
(ooohhh, you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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You're Not From Brighton

Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used, funk as we used to
You're not from Brighton
You're not from Brighton
You're not from Brighton
You're, you're, you're, you're
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Funk as we used to play
Said check baby, check baby
Check baby, check said
Check baby, check baby
Check one two
Check baby, check baby
Check baby, check said
Check check baby
Check check one two
Check baby, check baby
Check baby, check said
Check baby, check baby
Check one two, ha
Check baby, check baby
Check baby, check said
Check baby, check baby
Check one two, ha
Check baby, check baby
Check baby, check said
Check baby, check baby
Check one two, ha
Check baby, check baby
Check baby, check said
Check baby, check baby
Check one two
Said check one two, check one two
Check one two, check one two

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
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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I'm Tired Of It All

I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-

And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Added by Poetry Lover
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I Can Play (Lyrics) :

He didn't give himself up to fear.
And his voice had a life of its own.
He didn't give himself up for broke.
Just a man who played his guitar.

He said 'I can play the guitar', 'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.

'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.

He didn't give himself up to drinking beer.
His voice still had a life of its own.
And he didn't give himself up for smoke.
Just a man who played his guitar.

He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.

'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.

He didn't give himself up to curcumstance.
Always tried to make it alone.
He didn't give himself up to telling lies.
His honesty was already shown.
Always kept himself up to par.
Just a man who played his guitar.

He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.

'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'...

Rock Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1987,2009..
ALL rights reserved..

poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Added by Poetry Lover
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Tired Of Being Blonde

(l. raspberry)
She left the credit cards under her goodbye note
all of these are yours, goodbye? and that was all she wrote
Keys to the porsche she dropped on the floor in the den
Left in the ? 0 dodge that he drove her in
She wasnt angry, she wasnt sad
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
Tired of being blonde
Tired of running around with the usual guys and gals
Tired of being blonde
Tired of living up to all he expected
Tired of being blonde
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
Tired of being blonde
Tired of letting her dreams go neglected
She used to love to know she rounded out his world
She used to love to be all he ever loved in a girl
He liked to buy her clothes that made her sexy and cute
Guess she decided shed been too long away from her roots
She wasnt crazy, she wasnt mad
She just knew in her heart they had drained her of all that she had
Tired of being blonde
Tired of all the platinum frustration
Tired of being blonde
Tired of looking like a cutie on the cover of a magazine
Tired of being blonde
Tired of chasing all the latest sensations
She wasnt angry, no, no, she wasnt sad
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
She was tired of being blonde
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
Tired of being blonde
Tired of coping with the desperation
Tired of being blonde
Tired of fighting back the feeling inside that told her to run
Tired of being blonde
Tired of hiding her own inclinations

song performed by Carly Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Game Show

Last night we were watching this game show
They were talking bout marriage
And that stuff you know
I found myself laughing
Cause those couples werent clear
And then here he comes with this bright idea
So I said to him
I know you mean well
Youre genuine I can tell
Besides you and me
I know that we would soar
But are you ready?
You gotta be sure, you gotta be sure
Oh no, I know you got the feeling, hold on
Baby, youre price aint right, hold on
I know you got the feeling, hold on
Hey this is my life, hold on
I know you got the feeling, hold on
Baby youre price aint right, I know
You feel like hitting the ceiling, hold on
Hey this is my life, hold on
So were arguing
Talking about it back and forth
And forth and back as if there is no source
And now Im wondering
Is this what he had in mind?
Cause if I thought wed get through that door
Tell me whats gonna be my price
So I said to him
Game show, game show, game show
Game show, game show, game show
Game show, game show, game show
Game show, game show, game show
Game show, game show, game show
Game show, game show, game show
Game show, game show, game show
I know you mean well
Youre genuine I can tell
Besides you and me
I know that we would soar
But are you ready?
You gotta be sure, you gotta be sure
Oh no, I know you got the feeling, hold on
Baby, youre price aint right, hold on
I know you got the feeling, hold on
Hey this is my life, hold on
I know you got the feeling, hold on
Baby youre price aint right, I know
You feel like hitting the ceiling, hold on
Hey this is my life, hold on

[...] Read more

song performed by Kelis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Play Froggy Mountain Dew Or The Kermit Generation

Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog was on America’s Got Talent last night.
Personally, I enjoyed them a lot more than David Hasselhoff.
Kermit and his relatives are making a big splash on TV,
- and everywhere in sight.
First there was frog in frozen string beans purchased at a Wal-Mart,
Now there was ‘frog’ in a Diet Pepsi can purchased at Sam’s Club,
An affiliate of Wal-Mart from the start,
Where the 36 pack was sold.
The 'disgusting' blob,
-that Fred DeNegri's wife says she poured out of his Diet Pepsi can,
-was probably a gutted frog or toad.
DeNegri was grilling in his backyard tiki,
In Ormond Beach, Florida,
when he popped open a can of Diet Pepsi,
-took a big gulp and started gagging, his wife, Amy, said.
Little did they know some sort of an amphibian was dead?
He emptied out the can down a sink but something heavy remained inside.
Frog legs anyone?
Because the creature had surely died.
They brought the can to the garbage—they couldn’t wait.
His wife took over and shook the can over a paper plate,
-until something resembling 'pink linguini' slid out,
- followed by 'dark stuff, ' Amy DeNegri said.
What happened to Fred?
‘Dark matter’? Was this a physics experiment gone amuck that came about?
As far as Pepsi is concerned; they are keeping mum.
The DeNegri’s are seeking legal advice, which would seem fit.
As far as Pepsi goes, an out of court settlement; --they should hop to it.

9-3-09

poem by Joe Rosochacki
Added by Poetry Lover
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Have A Drink On Me

Whiskey, gin and brandy
With a glass Im pretty handy
Im trying to walk a straight line
On sour mash and cheap wine
So join me for a drink boys
Were gonna make a big noise
So dont worry about tomorrow
Take it today
Forget about the cheque
Well get hell to pay
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Yeah
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
On me
Come on
Dizzy, drunk and fightin
On tequila white lightnin
My glass is getting shorter
On whiskey, ice and water
So come on and have a good time
And get blinded out of your mind
So dont worry about tomorrow
Take it today
Forget about the cheque
Well get hell to pay
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
On me
Get stoned
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Yeah
Have a drink on me
Come on
Oooh
Gonna roll around
Gonna hit the ground
Take another swing
Have another drink
Gonna drink it dry
Gonna get me high
Come on all the boys
Make a noise
Chorus
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me

[...] Read more

song performed by AC-DC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
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Spies

Sick and tired, the way they walk
Sick and tired, the way they talk
Sick and tired, the things they say
Sick and tired, wheres my j?
Sick and tired, same old song
Sick and tired, wheres my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!
Spies are all around me, spies in every county
Spies, my heads are bounty
Snipers in the air
The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch dont like richters bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...
Generation x is the title they use
When I skate down mackenzie avenue.
Everybody that I see is lookin at me like a vandal
Maybe cause Im (wheelin? ) in some dickies and some sandals
Man, I know what you mean when you talk about the neighborhood
The old folks always sayin that we aint no good
Talkin to my pops about my music
Sayin we should keep it down and not abuse it
Man, I dont sweat those old ass bastards.
I just sit on the curb and with my herb and get plastered
They work all day long, they seem so bored
I think their ass should reside in the county morgue
Theyre postin up signs, man I think they should chill
Talkin if I dont call the cops then my neighbor will
Cause from city to city its all the same.
The neighborhood watch is a big ass gang
Sick and tired the way they walk,
Sick and tired the way they talk
Sick and tired the things they say, sick and tired. wheres my j?
Sick and tired, same old song, sick and tired wheres my bong?
Sick and tired, anarchy!
Spies are all around me, spies in every county
Spies, my heads are bounty
Snipers in the air
The neighborhood watch is after us.
The neighborhood watch dont like richters bus
The neighborhood watch is what they say,
But when I think theyre walkin towards me, I light another...
Every night when the street lights came on
We used to gather round, take rips from that bong.
Cause john wayne country, republican block
A bunch of overweight housewives that wanna be cops.
Cook and clean, the life of slave
Take kottonmouths advice and call jenny craig
Its not in my control, when we were in school
Wanna see us livin life like the golden rule

[...] Read more

song performed by Kottonmouth Kings
Added by Lucian Velea
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Game Don't Wait (feat. Nate Dogg And Snoop Dogg)

I come to find out though, all these years
the game wont wait no matter who you are
where you are or how you are
the game wont wait
its a cold thang, but its a cold game
you know how it is
(Chorus) x3
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
[Snoop]
Now all I, see is we
the LBC, its 213s
cheese and please and the reason the season
the click's off the heezy, Mr. Warren G Z
gots to make it easy, wit Snoop D Z
they come back, and drop raps and make snaps so easy
the most hunted, and most wanted
with a pocket full of hundreds, you know how we run it
[Warren G]
Snoop de woop pass the M-I-C
anticipation 213
we contemplate, and regulate
now we got the game tight, its money to make (money, money, money)
the game dont wait but you can wait for the game
worldwide tours, with skirts screamin our name
[Snoop]
The hits dont stop because the game wont change
all we goin to do is maintain, maintain
[Nate Dogg]
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
I got no time for no payin much rate
I gotta go out and buy some brand new clothes
change my signs so they reveal my foes
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
girls dont stop because the dick is straight
let me teach you what I already know
the hits dont stop so its time to go
(Chorus) x3
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
[Warren G]
Now its the second time around ain't no phonies any fakes
Let me holla at cha tryin to snake my stakes
you older than me, you say OG, you almost 40
tryin to stay young as 40
sport you roll me those so stay in ya place

[...] Read more

song performed by Warren G
Added by Lucian Velea
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That's My Story And I'm Sticking To It

Kindergarten
King of excuses
Sister Mary Mojo so hard to trick
What can I say
Dog ate my homework
I could play the game
They love me anyway
Alibis, angles and tales from the tropics
Come to my mind so easy and quick
Spacemen from Mars stole all of my money
But I could play the game
They love me just the same
Chorus:
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it
That's my life and all that I've got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not
Believe me or not
Women always know before you tell them
The younger girls so easy to trick
What's that word? I think I'm eccentric
But I can play the game
They love me anyway
Revelations
Love when they happen
Wizards and lizards I choose and I pick
In a hundred years this all won't matter
How you play the game
They love you just the same
Chorus:
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it
That's my life and all that I've got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not
Believe me or not
I will play the game
I will stay the same
I will play the game
Believe me or not
Chorus:
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it
That's my life and all that I've got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not
Believe me or not
Chorus:
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it
That's my life and all that I've got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thats My Story & Im Stickin To It

Thats my story and Im stickin to it
By: jimmy buffett, jay oliver
1989
Kindergarten
King of excuses
Sister mary mojo so hard to trick
What can I say
Dog ate my homework
I could play the game
They love me anyway
Alibis, angles and tales from the tropics
Come to my mind so easy and quick
Spacemen from mars stole all of my money
But I could play the game
They love me just the same
Chorus:
Thats my story and Im stickin to it
Thats my life and all that Ive got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not
Believe me or not
Women always know before you tell them
The younger girls so easy to trick
Whats that word? I think Im eccentric
But I can play the game
They love me anyway
Revelations
Love when they happen
Wizards and lizards I choose and I pick
In a hundred years this all wont matter
How you play the game
They love you just the same
Chorus:
Thats my story and Im stickin to it
Thats my life and all that Ive got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not
Believe me or not
I will play the game
I will stay the same
I will play the game
Believe me or not
(guitar instrumental)
Chorus:
Thats my story and Im stickin to it
Thats my life and all that Ive got
Call me a liar, call me a writer
Believe me or not
Believe me or not
Chorus:

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song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Death Fugue

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
we drink it and drink it
we dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined
A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents
he writes
he writes when dusk falls to Germany your golden
hair Margarete
he writes it ans steps out of doors and the stars are
flashing he whistles his pack out
he whistles his Jews out in earth has them dig for a
grave
he commands us strike up for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you in the morning at noon we drink you at
sundown
we drink and we drink you
A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents
he writes
he writes when dusk falls to Germany your golden hair
Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith we dig a grave in the breezes
there one lies unconfined

He calls out jab deeper into the earth you lot you
others sing now and play
he grabs at teh iron in his belt he waves it his
eyes are blue
jab deper you lot with your spades you others play
on for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at at noon in the morning we drink you
at sundown
we drink and we drink you
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith he plays with the serpents
He calls out more sweetly play death death is a master
from Germany
he calls out more darkly now stroke your strings then
as smoke you will rise into air
then a grave you will have in the clouds there one
lies unconfined

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death is a master from Germany
we drink you at sundown and in the morning we drink
and we drink you
death is a master from Germany his eyes are blue

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poem by Paul Celan
Added by Poetry Lover
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Fugue of Death

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at nightfall
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
we drink it and drink it
we are digging a grave in the sky it is ample to lie there
A man in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when the night falls to Germany your golden
hair Margarete
he writes it and walks from the house the stars glitter he
whistles his dogs up
he whistles his Jews out and orders a grave to be dug in
the earth
he commands us strike up for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you in the morning at noon we drink you at
nightfall
drink you and drink you
A man in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when the night falls to Germany your golden
hair Margarete
Your ashen hair Shulamith we are digging a grave in the
sky it is
ample to lie there

He shouts stab deeper in earth you there and you others
you sing and you play
he grabs at the iron in his belt and swings it and blue are
his eyes
stab deeper your spades you there and you others play on
for the dancing

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at nightfall
we drink you at noon in the mornings we drink you at
nightfall
drink you and drink you
a man in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamith he plays with the serpents

He shouts play sweeter death's music death comes as a
master from Germany
he shouts stroke darker the strings and as smoke you
shall climb to the sky
then you'll have a grave in the clouds it is ample to lie
there

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death comes as a master from
Germany
we drink you at nightfall and morning we drink you and
drink you

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poem by Paul Celan
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Theatre Of The Absurd

(ian hunter)
My tea turned seven shades darker
As I sit n write these words
And londons gettin paler
In my theatre of the absurd.
You figured for an evening
And you made it all worthwile.
Its seldom people have a job
And even rarer that I smile.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
And if your songs be classics,
Throw them to the hurd.
Truth is where they came from
And not this theatre of the absurd.
Some say you wanted to play for me
But its only what youve heard
That made you want to capture me
In your theatre of the absurd.
It was not me, I said myself
And you must do so, too.
I hope you have the strength to stay
When Ill be watchin you.
So baby,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
Oh when I got here back home tonight
Something within me stirred.
Oh it must have been a different kind of play
That touched my theatre of the absurd.
Now Ill be on my way alone
But an interesting thing occurred
See nobody ever shared too much
In my theatre of the absurd.
And there I was back in london,
Thought about history.
It was just like being in school again
But I felt something movin in me.

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song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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