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I have never had another job and I don't have a mortgage.

quote by Alison Moyet
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Life in Paradise: 21st Century Style

2000-2001
The “dot com” bubble bursts
Recession
9/11/2001
America attacked!
Our way of life is threatened
Fear sets in
Financial institutions vulnerable!
Economy in a nose dive
What to do?
Everybody fly the flag from your home.
Save housing - Save the economy!
First, everybody needs a home.
The madness begins.
2002-2003
Create laws to increase minority homeownership
California gives birth to the ARMs* and NINJA** loans
Accounting irregularities at Fannie Mae (FNMA) & Freddie Mac (FDMAC) ***
Doors open for Wall Street to invest in Main Street
Without those pesky government regulations
Homeownership increases

...“After all ever since the Great Depression, home values have ALWAYS gone up
And everybody pays their mortgage ”…

WARNING! WARNING! DANGER! DANGER!

AREN”T HOME PRICES INCREASING FASTER THAN INCOME?

…...“No problem; it only takes a little creative mortgage financing and Wall St loves those high yielding mortgages…..
HIGHER RISK - HIGHER YIELD!
Pension funds love high yield.
Buy more and more....
…...“After all ever since the Great Depression, home values have ALWAYS gone up
And everybody pays their mortgage ”…..

WARNING! WARNING! DANGER! DANGER!

AREN”T PENSION FUNDS ONLY ALLOWED TO BUY AAA RATED INVESTMENTS?

...“Problem solved...banks pay the salaries at the Rating Agencies and Ratings Agencies in turn lower the standards to obtain a AAA rating”...

WARNING! WARNING! DANGER! DANGER!

WHO’S WATCHING THE “HEN HOUSE” WHO’S MINDING THE STORE?

...“Who cares?
Everyone is happy
Millions of new jobs created
Millions of new homeowners

[...] Read more

poem by Nancy Chambers
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Eternal Creation

The Parent’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to the child; but to irrefutably ensure that the infant was nourished with their breath and blood till the time it could unflinchingly fend for its symbiotic survival; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created them for,

The Sun’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to light; but to irrefutably ensure that the rays optimistically enlightened even the most infinitesimally lugubrious cranny of remorsefully cloistered earth; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Rose’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fragrance; but to irrefutably ensure that the majestic resplendence ebulliently blossomed into the lives of countless haplessly beleaguered and bereaved; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Peak’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to victory; but to irrefutably ensure that the royal triumph peerlessly massacred even the most ethereal iota of devilishness form this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

Nature’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to newness; but to irrefutably ensure that the evolution metamorphosed every bit of egregiously stagnating ghoulishness into a sky of rhapsodic freshness; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Cloud’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to rain; but to irrefutably ensure that the water stupendously ignited vivaciously iridescent life in every ingredient of hopelessly dying soil; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Conscience’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to truth; but to irrefutably ensure that the righteousness insuperably conquered every trace of diabolical lies on earth and the atmosphere; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Ocean’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to salt; but to irrefutably ensure that the tanginess wonderfully illuminated every treacherously spiceles and deliriously lackadaisical moment of life; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Poet’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fantasy; but to irrefutably ensure that the dream spellbindingly impregnates the winds of Omnipotent romance into monotonously monstrous robots; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,

The Lip’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to smiles; but to irrefutably ensure that the happiness altruistically perpetually perpetuates into every dwelling incarcerated in chains of murderous gloom; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Rainbow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to vividness; but to irrefutably ensure that the color timelessly enshrouded every gruesomely befriended orphan; miserably deteriorating on the globe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The Shadow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to tranquility; but to irrefutably ensure that the peacefulness granted celestial reprieve to every bizarrely estranged soul squandering on this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,

The philanthropist’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to unity; but to irrefutably ensure that the oneness miraculously coalesced every spuriously staggering and cold-bloodedly fighting caste; creed and tribe into the unassailable religion of humanity; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,

The wind’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to freedom; but to irrefutably ensure that the liberation unequivocally freed every element of torturously enslaved earth till times immemorial; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,

The night’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to sensuality; but to irrefutably ensure that the passion brilliantly transformed every speck of infertility into the chapters of everlastingly Omniscient procreation; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,

The eyelash’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to flirtation; but to irrefutably ensure that the mischief serenely catapulted every fretfully frenetic organism into realms of impeccable childhood; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,

The soldiers job just doesn’t end at giving birth to martyrdom; but to irrefutably ensure that the valor to timelessly serve the mothersoil; throbbed fearlessly in every chest; even centuries after his veritable death; was what the Almighty Creator had created him for,

The breath’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to life; but to irrefutably ensure that the exultation inexhaustibly transcended over; even the most inane anecdote of baseless corruption and demeaning death; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,

And the heart’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to Love; but to irrefutably ensure that the compassionate togetherness tirelessly bonded the entire planet into a paradise of Omnipresently unshakable strength; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for…

©copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Dead End Job

Words and music by The Police
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
The queue gets longer everyday
I just ain't no time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I want to do is play
Don't wanna be no teacher
I don't wanna be no slave
I don't wanna work no assembly line
A' like my uncle Dave
The queue gets longer everyday
I just ain't got time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I wanna do is play
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
The queue gets longer everyday
All I wanna do is play
I just ain't got time to stay
But I ain't gonna run away
Don't wanna be no millionaire
Don't wanna own no mint
I don't wanna be no tax exile
And I don't mind being skint
The queue gets longer every day
I just ain't got time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I wanna do is play
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
The queue gets longer everyday
I just ain't no time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I want to do is play
Don't wanna be no millionaire

[...] Read more

song performed by Police
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Ramble Tamble

Chorus:
Move,
Down the road
I go.
Chorus
Theres mud in the water,
Roach in the cellar,
Bugs in the sugar,
Mortgage on the home,
Mortgage on the home.
Theres garbage on the sidewalk,
Highways in the back yard,
Police on the corner,
Mortgage on the car,
Mortgage on the car.
Chorus
Theyre selling independence,
Actors in the white house,
Acid in digestion,
Mortgage on my life,
Mortgage on my life.
Chorus
Ramble tamble tamble
Ramble tamble tamble
Ramble tamble tamble

song performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival
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Mans Job

Well you can go out with him
Play with all of his toys
But takin care of you darlin
Aint for one of the boys
Oh theres somethin in your soul
That hes gonna rob
And lovin you baby lovin you darlin
Lovin you woman is a mans mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Well now his kisses may thrill
Those other girls that he likes
But when it comes to treatin
A real woman right
Well of all of his tricks
No they wont be enough
cause lovin you baby lovin you woman
Lovin you darlin is a mans mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Youre dancin with him hes holding you tight
Im standing here waitin to catch your eye
Your hands on his neck as the music sways
All my illusions slip away
Repeat riff from intro twice
Now if youre lookin for a hero
Someone to save the day
Well darlin my feet
Theyre made of clay
But Ive got something in my soul
And I wanna give it up
But gettin up the nerve
Gettin up the nerve
Gettin up the nerve is a mans mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Lovin yous a mans job woman
Lovin yous a mans job

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dirty Job

Its a dirty job
But somebodys got to do it
Better get to it
Somebodys gotta do it
Whatever it takes, whatever it takes
Any work at all
Is better than none
Better buckle down to it
Gotta get the job done
Gotta earn my pay... I gotta earn my pay
I cant wait around on the lottery
And there aint no millionaires
Lookin for me
And somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebody
I can think of better things
Id rather do
I might get lucky
And Im hopin to
But until I do
I gotta compromise
The job aint much
But at least its mine
It beats standin
In the unemployment line
Put pride aside
And Ill improvise
Even if I do get a better job
Somebody else
Has gotta fill my spot
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebody
Somebody
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Its a dirty job
Its a low-down dirty job
Somebody
Even if the rules are too hard to follow
Even when pride is too hard to swallow
Its another day so its another dollar
Thats what its all about, oh
Its a dirty job
But somebodys got to do it
Better get to it
Somebodys gotta do it

[...] Read more

song performed by Dolly Parton
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Rich Man, Poor Man

When God looked down from Heaven's Throne to Job upon the Earth,
God saw Job's faith had fully grown and that this man had worth...
God told the Devil of this man, so righteous and so pure.
God said, 'He does the best he can, almost without a flaw...'

The Devil fumed and then replied, 'You made him rich, that's why!
How many times has that man sighed? He has no cause to cry! '
Then God let Satan smite Job's land and suffer for a while
And death was very near to hand... and poor Job lost his smile...

The Lord received Job's faithful praise, despite the tragic loss!
Job proved he loved the Lord always! That made the Devil cross!
'What say you now? ' the Lord remarked! But Satan argued still...
For he was livid, he was narked, 'What if I make him ill? '

So God agreed, 'But spare his life! ' So Satan went below
And Job fell ill, such that his wife saw skin boils start to grow...
'Why praise the Lord? Reject His love! ' But Job dismissed each word.
'I trust the Lord who dwells above! Rejection's quite absurd! '

Alas, poor Job conferred with friends, who said that he had sinned...
But Job had faith that never ends! Though he no longer grinned!
Through gritted teeth, he set them straight, 'Of what sin am I blamed?
Of every sin I've learned to hate! I sit here unashamed! '

Then God spoke loud and God spoke clear, of everything He'd made,
Both sun and moon, things far and near, so truth could be displayed.
A structured world to live upon, from valleys to snowflakes!
If rainbow-coloured lights are shone, then, oh, what joy, each makes!

Poor Job, he suffered all he could, yet now he'd seen God's face,
By faith, he'd done the things he should, yet Job was saved by grace!
By faith, not works, lest any boast, no matter, rich or poor...
In Christ, receive the Holy Ghost... You'll never want for more...

Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2011.

poem by Denis Martindale
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXXXII)

I know You do just everything;
To You, no one can hindrance bring;
May be, I’ve dealt with some great things-
Things all unknown to e’en earth’s kings!

No one can block your purpose, Lord;
I came to know You by mouth’s word;
And now, my eyes both have seen God;
I’m sorry for whatev’r I said.

Of things I knew, I cannot know;
They are so wonderful Lord, O!
I disown things I said before;
In ashes, dust, I repent, Oh!

The Lord then spoke to Eliphaz,
‘I’m angry with you three, because
How you spoke to Job of me was
Never aright and made Job worse.’

‘My servant Job had spoken right;
Take bullocks, rams all seven each
To job who’ll pray with all his might,
To make up for your blunders, breach.’

‘Concerning me, you didn’t talk well,
As well as my servant Job’s spell!
I’ll accept his prayer to not
To punish severely, I thought.’

Eliphaz, Zohar, Bildad did
According to what God had bid.
God accepted Job’s prayer soon
For all, life turned from bane to boon!

God then restored Job’s sad a plight,
After Job prayed for friends aright;
He blessed him two-fold as before,
And Job was happy, all the more.

His relatives came back to him,
Enquiring how life had turned grim;
They condoled, comforted him also,
And shared their wealth with him therefore.

The latter days of Job were blessed,
More than the earlier ones, God dressed;
God gave him immense cattle-wealth;
He lived one-forty years in health.

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter II)

When angels came before Yahweh,
Satan too joined them again.

The Lord asked him, “Whence do you come? ”
And Satan told, “By roaming earth,
And going on lands, back and forth.”

God asked, “Did you notice my servant Job?
There’s none like him upon the earth! ”
“You ruined Job without a cause! ”

And Satan answered Lord and said,
“Man gives all things to save his life;
Just touch his body, he’ll curse God.”

So, God placed Job in Satan’s hands;
‘Just spare his life, ’ God warned Satan.

So, Satan went from Lord’s presence,
And caused Job boils from head to foot;
Job took a potsherd to scrape with
And sat amongst the ashes sad.

His wife advised, “Curse God and die! ”
Job told her not to be foolish.
“When good things come, we praise the Lord.”
“Why shouldn’t some evil come? ” asked Job.
In all this, Job didn’t sin by word!

Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar-
Good friends of Job, heard the sad news,
And rushed to mourn and console him!

From far, they couldn’t recognize Job;
They wept aloud and tore their cloaks;
They sprinkled dust upon their heads;
And sat with him upon the ground,
For seven days and nights, speechless.
They saw his grief was very great!

poem by John Celes
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You're Like a Child

You're an idiot, that's for sure
You'll never learn
You're a dumbass
That won't ever change
And through you have a grown man's body
Through you claim to be so very macho

You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
And crybaby all I want for you to know is
You're like a child
You don't know what a job is
You don't wanna ever leave your mama's home
All I want for you to know is

Your constant clinging to my purse strings brings me to tears
Even after all these years
And it pains me to have to put up with you
I know you too damn well
And through you look like a grown man
Through you claim to be so very macho

You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
And crybaby all I want you to know is
You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
All I want for you to know is

It's not that I wanna say goodbye
It's just time that you try to grow up
Stand on your own
Each and every single day you know
You're going to have to eventually move away
And through you look like a grown man
And through you claim to be ever so very macho
I know deep down
You're just scared
That through life you won't make it on your own

You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home

[...] Read more

poem by Ramona Thompson
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A Promise to Keep This Secret

A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.

A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.

Why would somebody have an elicit affair?
With a promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
And do it while sneaking around,
In the clear open air?
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.

A friend can be a friend to another,
Until the end.
But a friend can not be trusted,
When a cheating begins.

A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.

And a friend can't be expected to defend a friend.
When that friend is also 'friend',
To those who swap and cheat on spouses...
Of,
Other friends!
Oh.

A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.

A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.

When those swapping spouses sneak from houses,
Living just next door???
Keeping this a secret is a hard job.

When those swapping spouses sneak from houses...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jobism-According to Uncle Bob

'Jobism'
he said
'the real disease of the 2Oth century'
Bob was warming up to the topic.

'Now you take my grandfather,
what he wanted was his own piece of land
the ability to run his own life
he didn't work all his life for a job.
He worked for land and the independence
that land meant.

It has been that way for all of history of the human race.

From the cave man marking up the cave walls
to the rancher, the farmer
and the homesteader,
all we have ever wanted was a piece of land
to call our own.

My people came here to America not for a job
but for freedom.
Now we are settling for cubicles.

Mere one-hundred years ago
they taxed us off the land
gave to the corporations;
the farmers left the land,
got herded
into the dirty cities
plopped down into factories
becoming wage-slaves.

My Grandad is still bitter about that.

Now our kids are taught be good,
get a good education
and try to get a good wage-slave job.

One hundred years ago
it was get your own piece of land,
be independent,
don't be beholden to any man,

don't let the authorities run your life.
What a change huh?

This has had for more impact
than we think.
Hitler's minions asked why did they gas the Jews

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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We will not, on the altar of money, mortgage our conscience, mortgage our faith, mortgage our salvation.

quote by Peter Akinola
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Small Stuff

There's a little cafe' on the corner of town
Lucy works there 'til the sun goes down
It ain't very much but she brings home the bacon and the bread
We got a mortgage we pay just a little bit on
But it seems like all of our money is gone
Before we get a chance to get ahead
That's small stuff, we don't sweat the small stuff
Why worry about the mortgage and the minimum wage
Traffic and the taxes and the coming of age
Small stuff
There's a comfort in the knowing there's a spirit in us
Giving us the courage and the wisdom to trust
In a love that's so much greater than all the small stuff
So we don't sweat the small stuff
There's a little bitty hole in the ceiling above
Sometimes the rain drips down on our temple of love
We have to put a pot smack dab in the middle of the bed
Somebody hit my car at the diner last night
Had to drive it home with one taillight
When I went out this morning, the engine was dead
That's small stuff, we don't sweat the small stuff
Why worry about the mortgage and the minimum wage
Traffic and the taxes and the coming of age
Small stuff
There's a comfort in the knowing there's a spirit in us
Giving us the courage and the wisdom to trust
In a love that's so much greater than all the small stuff
So we don't sweat the small stuff
There's a little cafe' on the corner of town
Lucy works there 'til the sun goes down
And she don't sweat the small stuff

song performed by Alabama
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Loraine

This is the story of one man’s soul.
The paths are stony and passion is blind,
And feet must bleed ere the light we find.
The cypher is writ on Life’s mighty scroll,
And the key is in each man’s mind.
But who read aright, ye have won release,
Ye have touched the joy in the heart of Peace.

PART I

THERE’S a bend of the river on Glenbar run
Which the wild duck haunt at the set of sun,
And the song of the waters is softened so
That scarcely its current is heard to flow;
And the blackfish hide by the shady bank
’Neath the sunken logs where the reeds are rank,
And the halcyon’s mail is an azure gleam
O’er the shifting shoals of the silver bream,
And the magpies chatter their idle whim,
And the wagtails flitter along the brim,
And tiny martins with breasts of snow
Keep fluttering restlessly to and fro,
And the weeping willows have framed the scene
With the trailing fall of their curtains green,
And the grass grows lush on the level leas
’Neath the low gnarled boughs of the apple trees,
Where the drowsy cattle dream away
The noon-tide hours of the summer day.
There’s a shady nook by the old tree where
The track comes winding from Bendemeer.
So faint are the marks of the bridle track,
From the old slip-rails on the ridge’s back,
That few can follow the lines I know—
But I ride with the shadows of long ago!
I am gaunt and gray, I am old and worn,
But my heart goes back to a radiant morn
When someone waited and watched for me
In the friendly shade of that grand old tree.
The winter of Memory brings again
The summer rapture of passionate pain,
And she comes to me with the morning grace
On her sun-gold hair and her lily face,
And her blue eyes soft with the dreamy light
She stole from the stars of the Southern night,
And her slender form like a springtide flower
That sprang from the earth in a magic hour,
With the trembling smile and the tender tone
And the welcome glance—that were mine alone.
And we sit once more as we sat of old
When the future lay in a haze of gold—

[...] Read more

poem by George Essex Evans
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Out Of Work

8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
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Its My Job

By: mac mcanally
1970
For mac who reminds me of me seven years ago
In the middle of late last night I was sittin on a curb
I didnt know what about, but I was feelin quite disturbed
A street sweeper came whistlin by, he was bouncin every step
It seemed strange how good he felt, so I asked him while he swept
Chorus:
He said, its my job to be cleaning up this mess
And thats enough reason to go for me
Its my job to be better than the rest
And that makes a day for me.
I got an uncle who owns a bank, hes a self-made millionaire
He never had anyone to love, never had no one to care
He always seemed kinda sad to me and I asked him why that was
And he told me its because in my contract theres this clause
Chorus:
That says, its my job to be worried half to death
And thats the thing people respect in me
Its my job but without it Id be less
Than what I expect from me.
Now Ive been lazy most all my life writin songs and sleepin late
And any manual labor Ive done was purely by mistake
If street sweepers can smile then Ive got no right to feel upset
But sometimes I still forget
til the lights go on and the stage is set
And the song hits home and you feel that sweat
Chorus:
Its my job to be different than the rest
And thats enough reason to go for me
Its my job to be better than the rest
And thats a rough break for me
Chorus:
Its my job to be cleaning up this mess
And thats enough reason to go for me
Its my job to be better than the rest
And that makes the day for me
- notes:
Background vocals: mac mcanally, j.d. souther

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Trial by Jury

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE LEARNED JUDGE
THE PLAINTIFF
THE DEFENDANT
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF
USHER
FOREMAN OF THE JURY
ASSOCIATE
FIRST BRIDESMAID

SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.

CHORUS

Hark, the hour of ten is sounding:
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,
Hall of Justice, crowds surrounding,
Breathing hope and fear--
For to-day in this arena,
Summoned by a stern subpoena,
Edwin, sued by Angelina,
Shortly will appear.

Enter Usher

SOLO - USHER

Now, Jurymen, hear my advice--
All kinds of vulgar prejudice
I pray you set aside:
With stern, judicial frame of mind
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.

CHORUS

From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.

[During Chorus, Usher sings fortissimo, "Silence in Court!"]

USHER Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case:
Observe the features of her face--
The broken-hearted bride.
Condole with her distress of mind:
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Added by Poetry Lover
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Thats The Way To Do It

Now Ive been here and Ive been there
And Ive been almost everywhere
Theres not a thing I cant repair
Cos Im stan, yes I am,
The odd job man
Im a tradesman, I know all the tricks
Theres not a thing that I cannot fix
Beginners use my concrete mix
Im stan yes I am, the odd job man
Well, thats the way to do it
Just be as quick as a flash
Dont hang about
Just in and out
And always ask for cash
Any job that you want done,
Phone me up cos Im the one
Electrical, plumbing, woodwork too
Ill do the job thats right for you
Well, thats the way to do it
Just be as quick as a flash
Dont hang about
Just in and out
And always ask for cash
Ive never done the same job twice,
Listen to me take my advice
Ill double the work for half the price
The finished job will look, look nice
Ive been around and had some fun
Theres not a job that Ive not done
No unemployment where Im from
Jack of all trades, master of none

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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