Citatepedia^®.com

A totally healthy actor is a paradox.

quote by Vittorio Gassman
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Totally. Totally. Totally Bummed

Totally. Totally. Totally bummed.
Totally. Totally. Totally bummed.

Significant this feeling is,
Hard to overcome.
When an aging is apparent,
And nothing can be done.

And when one has a wisdom,
One developes more and more...
The pressure to pretend there isn't,
Can not be ignored.

Oh, totally. Totally. Totally bummed.
Being now an elder,
Overnight has stunned.
Totally. Totally. Totally bummed.

No more looking 26.
Overnight has stunned.
Disappearing quick was 36.
Overnight has stunned.
And the 46 that came...
Picked up 56 and split.
And now I can't believe it,
I am elderly legit.

Oh, totally. Totally. Totally bummed.
Being now an elder,
Overnight has stunned.
Totally. Totally. Totally bummed.
Being now an elder,
Overnight has stunned.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Totally Hot

(john farrar)
I want you
But takin it easy aint an easy thing to do
And I want you, want you
You must know
Cause baby I cant begin to keep it in
Our love is so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Baby, baby, so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Gimme what you got, ready or not
Our love is totally hot
Im burnin up
And if my mama could read my mind shed lock me up
And Im burnin, burnin
You must know
Cause baby when youre around I come unwound
Our love is so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Baby, baby, so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Gimme what you got, ready or not
Out love is totally hot
Play the game and let me do the same
And we gonna get along, gonna get along, gonna get along fine
Watchin out for my heart
But when I am near you
Near you aint the place to start, no, no, no, no
Takin it slow
Whenever I cross your trail, my brakes just fail
My love is so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Baby, baby, so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Gimme what you got, ready or not
My love is totally hot
My love is so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Baby, baby, so hot, totally hot
You got to me
Gimme what you got, ready or not
My love is totally hot
Gimme what you got, ready or not
My love is totally, totally, totally hot
(repeats)

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Healthy Back Bag

animated bag of chips
amor dive bag
american eagle outfitters bags
ambag poly bags wholesale
american airlines bag limits
american beauty plastic bag theme mp3
amf bowling bag
aluminum tab weave bag
ampac tote bags
american trails atv bag
american tourister bonneville ii garment bag
alt ieri bassoon bag
almond flavored tea bags
ameribag shoulder bags
a mco saddel bags 1977
an enema bag for men
amulet bag book
analyse art falconers bag
amy butler sweet life bag
alto sax bag
alpha kappa alpha diva tote bag
amylou bag in eureka ca
ani hand bags
american west rodeo bags
amex insurance for delayed bags
an interchangeable foundation bag
al verio martini bags
animal bag mp3
american trail ventures atv cargo bags
aluminium coated plastic bags
amy butlet runaway bag pattern
angel bag
animae bop bag
allowed to carry on garment bag
a nimal bag print tote
an imal overnight bag
aloksak bags
amz bag fun src
ameribag microfiber bag
american tourister laptop bag
allied waste service blue bags
american indian medicine bags
alternative to plastic trash bags
amish buggy bag
alpha poly bag
ammo shoulder bag
american sign language tote bags
animated gif people with hand bags
amazing bag grace pipe
altieri bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Please Don't Pass Me By

I was walking in new york city and i brushed up against the man in front of me. i felt a cardboard placard on his back. and when we passed a streetlight, i could read it, it said "please do
Ass me by - i am blind, but you can see -i've been blinded totally - please don't pass me by." i was walking along 7th avenue, when i came to 14th street i saw on the corner curious mutilat
Of the human form; it was a school for handicapped people. and there were cripples, and people in wheelchairs and crutches and it was snowing, and i got this sense that the whole city was singin
S:
Oh please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh please don't pass me by.
And you know as i was walking i thought it was them who were singing it, i thought it was they who were singing it, i thought it was the other who was singing it, i thought it was someone else.
S i moved along i knew it was me, and that i was singing it to myself. it went:
Please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Well, i've been blinded totally,
Oh please don't pass me by.
Oh please don't pass me by.
Now i know that you're sitting there deep in your velvet seats and you're thinking "uh, he's up there saying something that he thinks about, but i'll never have to sing that song." but
Omise you friends, that you're going to be singing this song: it may not be tonight, it may not be tomorrow, but one day you'll be on your knees and i want you to know the words when the time co
Because you're going to have to sing it to yourself, or to another, or to your brother. you're going to have to learn to sing this song, it goes:
Please don't pass me by,
Ah you don't have to sing this .. not for you.
Please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh please don't pass me by.
Well i sing this for the jews and the gypsies and the smoke that they made. and i sing this for the children of england, their faces so grave. and i sing this for a saviour with no one to save.
Won't you be naked for me? hey, won't you be naked for me? it goes:
Please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh now, please don't pass me by.
Now there's nothing that i tell you that will help you connect the blood tortured night with the day that comes next. but i want it to hurt you, i want it to end. oh, won't you be naked for me?
W:
Please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh now, please don't pass me by.
Well i sing this song for you blonde beasts, i sing this song for you venuses upon your shells on the foam of the sea. and i sing this for the freaks and the cripples, and the hunchback, and the
Ed, and the burning, and the maimed, and the broken, and the torn, and all of those that you talk about at the coffee tables, at the meetings, and the demonstrations, on the streets, in your mus
N my songs. i mean the real ones that are burning, i mean the real ones that are burning
I say, please don't pass me by,
Oh now, please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Ah now, i've been blinded totally,
Oh no, please don't pass me by.
I know that you still think that its me. i know that you think that there's somebody else. i know that these words aren't yours. but i tell you friends that one day
You're going to get down on your knees,

[...] Read more

song performed by Leonard Cohen
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Holy Paradox

It's one of the most important things
The the kind of word that rings
In your ears, that seems to be the opposite of sense

Paradox

They seem like such nonsense
In fact I used to take offense
At their confusing nature
There appears to be no cure
For their contradicting and infectious creed
Their polluting and illogical seed
But then I realized that I've been blind
Yes blind, yes even this whole time
There was one paradox I just refused to see
One paradox that would come to define me

Holy paradox
Righteous sinner
Righteousness is the absence of sin
Sin is the absence of righteousness
So which one will win?

So when you confess
Jesus died for sin
He rose again so that it'd never win
But sin is inside us
It grows and festers like a pus
Our hearts are evil
We can't deny
Jeremiah 17: 9
Our heart will remain evil, yes remain until
That day when we see Him as He is
That day when we fully become His
But this is

The Holy Paradox

I'm a righteous sinner
Washed by the blood of grace
Sinner that even punishment does not deter
Righteous son of the living God, beloved who will see God's face

So I come back to the same conclusion
It's the things that we don't understand that give us purpose
It's the paradoxes, it's the unseen that defines the seen, that defines us
How could you have an evil heart and be righteous? Contradiction?
How could one God be three persons in One?
How could this God love us enough to give up His Son?
How could God know the future, and yet give us free choice?

[...] Read more

poem by David Knox
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Actor Of Love

Hold on
I have found something I longing for
To fill the hollowness of my heart
But why I'm feeling more of sorrow

Before
I am the one who said: 'Oh, I'll control'
But now I realize you are my world
And it's waiting to break apart

I'm an actor of love
I'm trying to perfect
But I'm just fooling around

I'm an actor of love
I want to be your hero
But I've made myself a clown

I'm an actor of love
I need you by my side
But now you leave me alone

I'm an actor of love
I beg your forgiveness
But you refuse me so cold

Sometimes
We wonder why we should be together
Do we really dream of love forever?
Or we afraid to be alone

I'm an actor of love
I want to protect you
But I always hurt you bad

I'm an actor of love
I want to be your shield
But may turn someone you hate

I'm an actor of love
We kiss in the morning
But in night we have a war

I'm an actor of love
We care for each other
But we only circle round

If this love only makes me crazy
Take the story and just let it be
Tragedy or comedy

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

They're Not Suited Totally

Two strangers,
Too soon meet...
To agree,
No one else can match their needs.

Two strangers,
Too soon meet...
To soon discover,
They're not suited totally!

After feeding sexual needs,
They're not suited totally.
Petty issues raises heat.
And they're not suited totally.
There's no cure or remedy,
That will make two strangers see...
Eye to eye,
As days go by.

Two strangers,
Too soon meet...
To agree,
No one else can match their needs.

Two strangers,
Too soon meet...
To soon discover,
They're not suited totally!

Between them there's no history.
And two strangers will never see...
Eye to eye,
As days go by.

After feeding sexual needs,
They're not suited totally.
Petty issues raises heat.
And they're not suited totally.
There's no cure or remedy,
And soon two strangers will agree...
Between them there's no chemistry.
And one of them wishes to leave.
Since there is no history.
And two strangers will never see...
Eye to eye,
As days go by.

Two strangers...
They're not suited totally!
Between them there's no history.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Paradox Of Poetry

The Paradox of Poetry
Is that every poem contains its own questions-
And that each question it asks
Is answered in another question
Raised from somewhere else-

The paradox of Poetry
Is that its meanings
Cannot be contained by themselves-
And so each paradox too
Bears within it its own ambiguity-

I call this a poem about Poetry
But in Paradox
It is a statement of Love
Which abstract as it is
Lacks poetic feeling
A non- poetic poem
Aspiring to be poetry too-

poem by Shalom Freedman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Behind the Scenes

The actor struts his little hour,
Between the limelight and the band;
The public feel the actor's power,
Yet nothing do they understand
Of all the touches here and there
That make or mar the actor's part,
They never see, beneath the glare,
The artist striving after art.
To them it seems a labour slight
Where nought of study intervenes;
You see it in another light
When once you've been behind the scenes.

For though the actor at his best
Is, like a poet, born not made,
He still must study with a zest
And practise hard to learn his trade.
So, whether on the actor's form
The stately robes of Hamlet sit,
Or as Macbeth he rave and storm,
Or plays burlesque to please the pit,

'Tis each and all a work of art,
That constant care and practice means --
The actor who creates a part
Has done his work behind the scenes.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Your love is wicked (parody)

(with apology to Koos A. Kombuis)

When you are crying
I want to strive
to be in your shadow
to feel the pain in everything,
every morning when I rise
I stumble over my bed
and chest of drawers
and when I have nausea from drinking

then I only want to eat
when you are with me,
at times I want to taste you
like wild berries
and even in my dark moods
I want to fall
deep into you

I want to make you stop
when you whisper
about the words
of evil sailors
and I want to go along
when you walk the streets
as a part of your neuroses

your favour is almost honourable
and totally unrestrained
your honour is without guilt
blinded by sin,
blinded without comfort,
blinded from love
and totally immoral

yesterday just like you
I went astray
in your urges
for a long time
with a lot of skeletons
without any phobias
or songs

it teems with LSD
and you tell
without asking
and the message that I am getting,
is that you are
a sweet mother in Africa

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Be healthy

You should eat healthy
and be healthy.
Instead of having juice,
have fruits.
Instead of having junk,
have some green fun.
So, stay healthy
by eating green
and advise others also the same green fun
you should eat healthy
and be healthy! ! !

poem by Vinayak Pandey
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Diamonds Are From Forever

Silent, they speak
of the elemental:
clear as water, clear as air,
bright as fire, sparkling as sunlight,
hot from the Sun, cold as ice,
yet created out of blackest earth
by forces beyond our imagination

and I wouldn’t be surprised
if one day they’ll be found
to emit a sound so far beyond heard sound
that only dolphins and eagles may
hear it a thousand miles away and smile;
elemental, the most beautiful paradox
of the so practical, created world

and sparkling at the throat, on ears,
the haloed tiara on the up-piled hair,
but most of all, upon the outstretched finger - look -
silent, they speak: he loves me; or,
I am loved; or, this is the love
I draw to me; or, this is the love
I have in me to give

silent, they speak
of the spark of a severed sun,
spinning a solar system of such
solemn, sparkling paradox – a burning Sun,
a fertile planet Earth, revolving
around each other like forever lovers
who need each other to be one -
an incandescent mass of already
cooling planet beyond all
measured heat; of something

even beyond paradox, that could create
by laws of nature which we can only now begin to imitate,
something so ordinary a pebble yet
so beautiful when polished, treasured,
that it’s a metaphor for love;
silent, sparkling with
the laughing, bright-eyed question -

who created love?

poem by Michael Shepherd
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Unicorn 13

who does not wish, openly or secretly,
to meet it, in some quiet place?
even a secret image in the mind's dead index
of those materialists who
deny it a reality, calling it a
‘mythological creature’ – as if
the mind were not superior to flesh and earth?

this, the very reason for
its longevity – who would not,
were it material, have hunted it by now
for a prince’s ransom, its magic horn ground down, hunted to
extinction – so that we would say
‘as dead as unicorn’ and left
the dodo forgotten and unmourned?
and so, to be a myth is logical…

and thus, the unicorn lives, beyond
some banal death at a hunter’s hands;
easy, peaceful in its own preserves,
grazing in the pure air of our minds,
free to remind us that we too are born free.

the secrets of creation
hide in such unthought hills as paradox –
we, yearning for a meeting
in a place we know not where
where in that still and silent place
loud with silent joy,
moving in ways beyond the movement seen,
we meet it when the looking stops

and paradox on paradox,
once met, we do not seek to meet and meet again –
its tender single glance
tells us for ever that it always lived
inside ourselves; we ourselves
that ‘mythological creature’,
more real than our mirrored self,
grazing in the wooded groves of stillness,
the mossy dells of silence; or,
its wild mane wind-tossed,
on the flying highest hills of freedom
or bright-eyed, salt-browed, white
between the spraying waves and curling surf:
knowing ourselves to be, forever to have been:

unicorn

poem by Michael Shepherd
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Through the eyes of a Field Coronet (Epic)

Introduction

In the kaki coloured tent in Umbilo he writes
his life’s story while women, children and babies are dying,
slowly but surely are obliterated, he see how his nation is suffering
while the events are notched into his mind.

Lying even heavier on him is the treason
of some other Afrikaners who for own gain
have delivered him, to imprisonment in this place of hatred
and thoughts go through him to write a book.

Prologue

The Afrikaner nation sprouted
from Dutchmen,
who fought decades without defeat
against the super power Spain

mixed with French Huguenots
who left their homes and belongings,
with the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Associate this then with the fact

that these people fought formidable
for seven generations
against every onslaught that they got
from savages en wild animals

becoming marksmen, riding
and taming wild horses
with one bullet per day
to hunt a wild antelope,

who migrated right across the country
over hills in mass protest
and then you have
the most formidable adversary
and then let them fight

in a natural wilderness
where the hunter,
the sniper and horseman excels
and any enemy is at a lost.

Let them then also be patriotic
into their souls,
believe in and read
out of the word of God

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

PARADOX. That Fruition destroyes Love

Love is our Reasons Paradox, which still
Against the judgment doth maintain the Will:
And governs by such arbitrary laws,
It onely makes the Act our Likings cause:
We have no brave revenge, but to forgo
Our full desires, and starve the Tyrant so.
They whom the rising blood tempts not to taste,
Preserve a stock of Love can never waste;
When easie people who their wish enjoy,
Like Prodigalls at once their wealth destroy.
Adam till now had stayd in Paradise
Had his desires been bounded by his eyes.
When he did more then look, that made th' offence,
And forfeited his state of innocence.
Fruition therefore is the bane t'undoe
Both our affection and the subject too.
'Tis Love into worse language to translate,
And make it into Lust degenerate:
'Tis to De-throne, and thrust it from the heart,
To seat it grossely in the sensual part.
Seek for the Starre that's shot upon the ground,
And nought but a dimme gelly there is found.
Thus foul and dark our female starres appear,
If fall'n or loosned once from Vertues Sphear.
Glow-worms shine onely look't on, and let ly,
But handled crawl into deformity:
So beauty is no longer fair and bright,
Then whil'st unstained by the appetite:
And then it withers like a blasted flowre
Some poys'nous worm or spider hath crept ore.
Pigmaleon's dotage on the carved stone,
Shews Amorists their strong illusion.
Whil'st he to gaze and court it was content,
He serv'd as Priest at beauties Monument:
But when by looser fires t'embraces led,
It prov'd a cold hard Statue in his bed.
Irregular affects, like mad mens dreams
Presented by false lights and broken beams,
So long content us, as no neer address
Shews the weak sense our painted happiness.
But when those pleasing shaddowes us forsake,
Or of the substance we a trial make,
Like him, deluded by the fancies mock,
We ship-wrack 'gainst an Alabaster rock.
What though thy Mistress far from Marble be?
Her softness will transform and harden thee.
Lust is a Snake, and Guilt the Gorgons head,
Which Conscience turns to Stone, & Joyes to Lead.
Turtles themselves will blush, if put to name
The Act, whereby they quench their am'rous flame.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry King
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Beauty And Doubt

Beauty should be cause of doubt,
remaining as a paradox
within a fog that, with lights-out,
become its combination locks
which only should be opened for
the people that it may deceive
and all its images adore,
since they’re unable to believe
that lying very far beyond
the beauty that they worship lie
not icons of which they are fond
but feelings hidden from the eye,
felt only by the loving heart
that longs for union of the mind
with images that works of art
cannot portray till eyes are blind.
The image is to history
what certainty must be to doubt,
solution of a mystery
that true love can do well without.

Michael Kimmelman (“Unravelling a 15th-Century Whodunit, ” NYT, December 11,2008) writes about three images attributed to the Master of Flémaille, St. Veronica, Madonna and Child and Gnadenstuhl:
Here at the Städel Museum “The Master of Flémalle and Rogier van der Weyden” is an old-fashioned whodunit. Almost exhaustingly erudite, it mixes up very great Netherlandish paintings of the 15th century with a few not so great ones to unravel perennial questions from galaxy academe about which artist painted what. Why should we care? For the same reason film buffs debate if Howard Hawks was the real director behind “The Thing From Another World, ” the sci-fi classic from 1951 he produced, rather than Christian Nyby, the credited director, or whether the 1943 thriller “Journey Into Fear, ” for which Norman Foster is listed as director, was taken over by Orson Welles, who played a Turkish police detective in it and whose other movies it partly resembles.We should care because, commerce and the usual scholarly nitpicking aside, the debate is itself an excuse for looking closer, and because piecing together any great artist’s legacy is a bit like composing a novel, every chapter part of the artist’s grand narrative, without all of which the story is incomplete. And, well, also because good mysteries beg to be solved…. And yet. Some things are clear. The weary, aged face of Veronica looks deeply, memorably human. The young woman from Berlin is heartbreakingly beautiful. Elsewhere, a painting of a stout man who at first looks identical to a second portrait is built up from layers of paint that subtly absorb light and give weight and density to the face. Max J. Friedländer, the eminent historian, many years ago attributed the portrait to the Master of Flémalle, then later wondered if it wasn’t by Rogier. The curators here think maybe it was. But maybe not. Dendrochronological tests, to measure the dates of trees, have estimated the age of the wood panels on which it and other pictures were painted; spectrographs and X-rays have provided proof of under-drawings, pentimenti and erasures. The famous Mérode Altarpiece from the Cloisters in New York, long attributed to the Master of Flémalle, turns out to be partly copied, it seems, from a picture in Brussels, long thought to have been a copy of the altarpiece. That’s nice to know. But in the end the story of this exhibition is that beauty resides not just in the pictures (of course) but in doubt itself. That art of such profound and unprecedented verisimilitude, which took such pains to record the minutest details of the world, should remain shrouded in such a fog is both a paradox and healthy reminder of a basic truth. Great art is always a mystery.

12/11/08

poem by Gershon Hepner
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Healthy people are those who live in healthy homes on a healthy diet; in an environment equally fit for birth, growth work, healing, and dying... Healthy people need no bureaucratic interference to mate, give birth, share the human condition and die.

quote by Ivan Illich
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Moment to Moment

Living compassionate minded
moment to moment
looking for the eternal beauty joy
humor or humanity
present within all
omnipresence of God

Keeping active exercising Mind and body
staying alive maintaining healthy
balanced spirit

Balancing act of choices
tight rope of our actions
What is Perfect?
Is it making healthy choices
one hundred percent of the time?
If that's true than perhaps no one is perfect
but if it's achieving the right balance of healthy/ non healthy
than perhaps its true we all achieve perfection in our own
unique and individual way

poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Haemoglobin

I was hanging from a tree
Unaccustomed to such violence
Jesus looking down on me
I'm prepared for one big silence

How'd I ever end up here
Must be through some lack of kindness
And it seemed to dawn on me
Haemoglobin is the key

Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat
Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat

At the time they cut me free
I was brimming with defiance
Doctors looking down on me
Breaking every law of science
How'd I ever end up here?
A latent strain of color blindness
Then it seemed to dawn on me
Haemoglobin is the key

Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat [x4]

Now my feet don't touch the ground
Now my feet don't touch the ground
Now my feet don't touch the ground
Now my feet don't touch the ground

As they drag me to my feet
I was filled with incoherence
Theories of conspiracy
The whole world wants my disappearance
I'll go fighting nail and teeth
You've never seen such perseverance
Gonna make you scared of me
Cause haemoglobin is the key

Haemoglobin is the key
To a healthy heart beat [x4]

Now my feet don't touch the ground [x8]

song performed by Placebo from Reinventing The Steel
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!