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The owners have the right to pay you whatever they want to. They don't have to pay you if they don't want to.

quote by Gary Sheffield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cars... Waiting in the sun(9/11/01)

Patiently waiting their owners,
the cars sit alone
Blue Mercedes, black ford,
red Dodge, grey Toyota

But for tonight these waiting cars,
will not be going home
No one gives it a thought,
nor cares an iota

Only two days later
does one give it a thought
That these cars waiting their owners,
and coated with dust

Would never be driven again
by their owners
Though waiting, patiently…
oblivious in trust

Waiting in bright sunlight,
where once there was shade
From the two majestic towers
that seemed to forever persist

Waiting in the lonely parking lot
for owners delayed
By the fact that their owners…
and the towers… no longer exist.

poem by David Whalen
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Faces In The Street

They lie, the men who tell us in a loud decisive tone
That want is here a stranger, and that misery's unknown;
For where the nearest suburb and the city proper meet
My window-sill is level with the faces in the street --
Drifting past, drifting past,
To the beat of weary feet --
While I sorrow for the owners of those faces in the street.

And cause I have to sorrow, in a land so young and fair,
To see upon those faces stamped the marks of Want and Care;
I look in vain for traces of the fresh and fair and sweet
In sallow, sunken faces that are drifting through the street --
Drifting on, drifting on,
To the scrape of restless feet;
I can sorrow for the owners of the faces in the street.

In hours before the dawning dims the starlight in the sky
The wan and weary faces first begin to trickle by,
Increasing as the moments hurry on with morning feet,
Till like a pallid river flow the faces in the street --
Flowing in, flowing in,
To the beat of hurried feet --
Ah! I sorrow for the owners of those faces in the street.

The human river dwindles when 'tis past the hour of eight,
Its waves go flowing faster in the fear of being late;
But slowly drag the moments, whilst beneath the dust and heat
The city grinds the owners of the faces in the street --
Grinding body, grinding soul,
Yielding scarce enough to eat --
Oh! I sorrow for the owners of the faces in the street.

And then the only faces till the sun is sinking down
Are those of outside toilers and the idlers of the town,
Save here and there a face that seems a stranger in the street,
Tells of the city's unemployed upon his weary beat --
Drifting round, drifting round,
To the tread of listless feet --
Ah! My heart aches for the owner of that sad face in the street.

And when the hours on lagging feet have slowly dragged away,
And sickly yellow gaslights rise to mock the going day,
Then flowing past my window like a tide in its retreat,
Again I see the pallid stream of faces in the street --
Ebbing out, ebbing out,
To the drag of tired feet,
While my heart is aching dumbly for the faces in the street.

And now all blurred and smirched with vice the day's sad pages end,
For while the short `large hours' toward the longer `small hours' trend,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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Ladies Pay

All the sailors theyre all home from leave
And everybodys waiting for them to try to deceive
The storekeepers have drawn their lace curtains bare
And all the women and the wee young girls all waiting there
Oh, but how the ladies pay
Oh, if they only knew how the ladies pay
Yeah now, how the ladies pay
Oh, when the men theyve gone away
Nobody is standing on upon the door
And nobody is feeding any of the poor
The poor sick soldier lies in bed beside his girl
Thinking of another place on the other side of the world
Ah
How the ladies pay
Oh-oh, oh, how the ladies pay
When the men theyve gone away
Oh, I wish I knew how the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night
Night and day
Day and night
Day and night, night and day, ladies pay now
Night and day, day and night
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night now
Night and day and now
How the pay now
Oh, how the pay now
Ladies pay, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay the way now
Ladies pay, ah, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay
Night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay
Oh, night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Price You Pay

(bruce springsteen)
You make up your mind, you choose the chance you take
You ride to where the highway ends and the desert breaks
Out on through an open road you ride until the day
You learn to sleep at night with the price you pay
Now with their hands held high, they reached out for the open skies
And then with their last breath
They built the roads they would ride to their deaths
Driving on through the night unable to break away
>from the restless pull of the price you pay
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay
Now theyve come so far and theyve waited so long
Just to end up caught in a dream where everything goes wrong
Where the dark of night holds back the light of the day
And you gotta stand and fight for the price you pay
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay
Little girl down on the strand
With that pretty little baby in your hands
Do you remember the story of the promised land
How he crossed the desert sands
And could not enter the chosen land
On the banks of the river he stayed
To face the price you pay
So let the games start
You better run you little wild heart
You can run through all the nights and all the days
But just across the county line
A stranger passin through put up a sign
That counts so many fallen away
To the price you pay,
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay

song performed by Emmylou Harris
Added by Lucian Velea
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Defeated Story poem for M lady Ernestine

A yellowed skull, still on display
above the oaken fire place
A relic from a by gone day.
Which it is possible to trace

back for five hundred years or more.
I hate the thing my host explains
grotesque against modern décor.
It can’t be moved or it complains.

The house re- echoes to its screams.
Until its back in place once more.
It’s been a fixture now it seems
Since fifteen hundred sixty four

Although it has been exorcised
and given Christian burial.
It’s very quickly recognised
there’ll be no peace until the skull

Is returned to its proper place
upon the panelled chimney breast
. A fact all owners have to face.
Though some have put it to the test.

It’s not a conversation piece.
Although subject of fierce debate.
If it is moved its screams won’t cease
until it hangs above the grate

The legend says he was betrayed
and murdered by an enemy.
Who had seduced a serving maid
who had allowed him free entry.

This story can’t be verified
No written records still remain
But I for one am terrified
and will not try to move again.

This yellowed skull from long ago,
which hangs above the fireplace.
That’s why it is there still on show
The passing years can not erase.

The skulls determination
to rest in peace just where it is
on open exhibition.
No power on earth can alter this.

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Luxurious

Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper
Now we get to lay back
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back, the pay back, the pay back
Champagne kisses, hold me in your lap of luxury
I only want to fly first-class desires, you're my limousine
So elegant, the way we ride, our passion, it just multiplies
There's platinum lightning in the sky
Look I'm livin' like a queen
This kind of love is getting expensive
We know how to live, baby
We're luxurious, like Egyptian cotton
We're so rich in love, we're rollin' in cashmere
Got it in fifth gear, baby
Diamond in the rough is lookin' so sparkly
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper
Now we get to lay back
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back, the pay back, the pay back
Sugar, honey, sexy baby
When we touch it turns to gold
Sensitive and delicate, kinda like a tuberose
You know you are my treasure chest
It's pure perfection when we kiss and
You're my Mr., I'm your Miss
Gonna be until we're old
This kind of love is getting expensive
We know how to live, baby
We're luxurious, like Egyptian cotton
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper
Now we get to lay back
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back, the pay back, the pay back
[2x]
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we're loaded and we're not gonna blow it
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we're hooked up with the love cause we grow it
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we got hydroponic love and we're smokin'
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we burn it, you and I, we are so lit
And we're so rich in love, we're rollin' in cashmere
Got it in fifth gear, baby
Diamond in the rough is lookin' so sparkly
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper

[...] Read more

song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rent

(again... again... again... ooooh
(again... again... again... again... ...)
You dress me up, Im your puppet
You buy me things, I love it
You bring me food, I need it
You give me love, I feed it
And look at the two of us in sympathy
With everything we see
I never want anything, its easy
You buy whatever I need
But look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
You phone me in the evening on hearsay
And bought me caviar
You took me to a restaurant off broadway
To tell me who you are
We never-ever argue, we never calculate
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
Im your puppet
I love it
And look at the two of us in sympathy
And sometimes ecstasy
Words mean so little, and money less
When youre lying next to me
But look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
(ooooh) ooh, I love you, you pay my rent
Look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
Look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency weve spent
(ooooh) I love you, oh, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent
(ooooh) I love you, you pay my rent (its easy, its so easy)
(ooooh) you pay my rent (its easy, its so easy)
(ooooh) you pay my rent (its easy, its so easy)
(ooooh) I love you (its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)
(its easy, its so easy)

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ooh, Ohh, Hey...

(hook)
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts, yes I will
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will (listen)
Listen honey baby, theres something that ive
Gotta make clear
You may have had other lovers in your life
That cant compare to whats going down here
I promise Ill be gentle, Im gonna give you all
That Ive got (got)
Dont say no, let your body go,
Ill do my thing nice and slow if you tell me your
Thoughts
(hook)
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts, come on
Nickel for your kiss, you know that I will, I will
I will pay anything to know whats on your mind
I do whatever it takes, pretty baby
I will pay anything to know whats on your
Mind please tell me baby, I would pay anytime, tell me whats on your mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Girl I wanna work your body
Like your body was a (9) to (5)
And just when you think Im getting tired baby
Ill be putting in overtime
I only want to please you, to tease you is not my style
Just let me know when your ready for love
Girl you gotta make up your mind
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts, yes I will
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
I will pay anything to know whats on your mind
I will pay anythign to know whats om your mind
I will pay anytime, tell me whats on your mind
I will pay anytime, tell me whats on your mind
Baby tell me, tell me baby
Whatever you want girl
Whatever you need lady
Ill be right there for you baby, yes I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, I will

song performed by Usher
Added by Lucian Velea
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Owners on a Lead

The dogs were out walking,
their owners on the lead.
The dogs take them,
wherever they want to go.
The owners have to stop
when they want to sniff around the trees
or do their toiletries.
So who is taking whom for a walk,
and who is on the lead?
I suspect that it is the owners
who are on the lead.

(7 July 2007)

poem by David Harris
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Shakespeare on the Turf

SCENE I

SCENE: The saddling paddock at a racecourse.
Citizens, Battlers, Toffs, Trainers, Flappers, Satyrs, Bookmakers and Turf Experts.
Enter Shortinbras, a Trainer, and two Punters.

FIRST PUNTER: Good Shortinbras, what thinkest thou of the Fav'rite?

SHORTINBRAS (aside): This poltroon would not venture a ducat
on David to beat a dead donkey; a dull and muddy-mettled rascal.
(To Punter): Aye marry Sir, I think well of the Favourite.

PUNTER: And yet I have a billiard marker's word
That in this race to-day they back Golumpus,
And when they bet, they tell me, they will knock
The Favourite for a string of German Sausage.

SHORTINBRAS: Aye, marry, they would tell thee, I've no doubt,
It is the way of owners that they tell
To billiard markers and the men on trams
Just when they mean to bet. Go back it, back it!

(Tries to shuffle off, but Punter detains him.)

PUNTER: Nay, good Shortinbras, what thinkest thou of Golumpus?
Was it not dead last week?

SHORTINBRAS: Marry, sir, I think well of Golumpus.
'Tis safer to speak well of the dead: betimes they rise again.

(Sings)

They pulled him barefaced in the mile,
Hey, Nonny, Nonny.
The Stipes were watching them all the while;
And the losers swear, but the winners smile,
Hey, Nonny, Nonny.

Exit Shortinbras.

SECOND RUNTER: A scurvy knave! What meant he by his prate
Of Fav'rite and outsider and the like?
Forsooth he told us nothing. Follow him close.
Give him good watch, I pray you, till we see
Just what he does his dough on. Follow fast.

Exeunt Punters

SCENE II

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Weapons never Rule the World

the world started
out with a war
each mind fashioned
his kinds to dominate
all set out for artillery -
the fangs, claws, poisons
wings that could fly
a thousand miles
legs that could run like a jet
eyes that could see ten score miles
weapons, weapons, weapons,
until the almighty fashioned his
proud kind to show their mistakes
plain men with two hands, legs
and a conscience.
all these weapon owners
that kill themselves to extinction
men - god's proof to his rivalries
the winners of the real world
are those with conscience, love
that mere weapon owners
are loosers fit only
for the pots and pans
the almighty always guiding
never allowing his men
to lose sight
that weapons never rule the world
owners of fangs, claws, mighty wings
that all end up in the pots and pans

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Version

We could live in a house outside of town,
We could build our own version of society,
Well...thered be no one to answer to
And complicate our lives,
We could be
The epitome of self sufficience.
Time to pay! to pay!
Time to pay; youve got to pay me!
Why should i?
Why should we pay for your mistake?
To carry on.
Why should we carry on your false integrity?
When youve shown us that you
Cant even keep your nest clean.
So far weve put finacial gain
Ahead of human needs,
Quality of our lives should be prioritized.
Time to pay! to pay!
Time to pay; youve got to pay me!
Why should i?
Why should we pay for your mistake?
To carry on.
Modify your version so we can carry on.
To carry on.
To be conclusive,
Id like to say,
Youve done a super-fine job with your display.
I see now that you cannot comprehend
What it means to respect your life and then some!
To be rich, that would be great.
No, but it doesnt mean poo-poo without your nest!
So why should I pay for your misake, man?
Why should i?
Why should we pay for your mistake?
To carry on.
Modify your version so we can carry on.
To carry on.
@song:azwethinkweiz
Floatin round my brain,
Tryin to think about the other thing.
Than that thought you know Im considering.
What if what I thought,
About who I think I though I was,
Was nothing more than my cerebellum slobbering?
Azwethinkweizm is hard to think about,
But simple to trust.
Youll know your on it
When your brain wont stop to take a break, no!
So when donut boy comes askin around,
Tryin to figure out somethin new,

[...] Read more

song performed by Incubus
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Absent-Minded Beggar

When you've shouted ' Rule Britannia,' when you've sung ' God save the Queen,'
When you've finished killing Kruger with your mouth,
Will you kindly drop a shilling in my little tambourine
For a gentleman in khaki ordered South?
He's an absent-minded beggar, and his weaknesses are great -
But we and Paul must take him as we find him -
He is out on active service, wiping something off a slate
And he's left a lot of little things behind him!
Duke's son - cook's son - son of a hundred kings
(Fifty thousand horse and foot going to Table Bay!)
Each of 'em doing his country's work
(and who's to look after their things?)
Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay - pay - pay !
There are girls he married secret, asking no permission to,
For he knew he wouldn't get it if he did.
There is gas and coals and vittles, and the house-rent falling due,
And its more than rather likely there’s a kid.
There are girls he’s walked with casual. They’ll be sorry now he’s gone,
For an absent-minded beggar they will find him,
But it ain’t the time for sermons with the winter coming on
We must help the girl that Tommy’s left behind him!
Cook's son - Duke's son - son of a belted Earl
Son of a Lambeth publican - it's all the same to-day !
Each of 'em doing his country's work
(and who's to look after the girl?)
Pass the hat for your credit's sake, J1 and pay - pay - pay !

There are families by thousands, far too proud to beg or speak,
And they'll put their sticks and bedding up the spout,
And they'll live on half o' nothing, paid 'em punctual once a week,
'Cause the man that earns the wage is ordered out.
He's an absent-minded beggar, but he heard his country call,
And his reg'rnent didn't need to send to find him!
He chucked his job and joined it - so the job before us all
Is to help the home that Tommy's left behind him !
Duke's job - cook's job - gardener, baronet, groom.
Mews or palace or paper-shop, there's someone gone away!
Each of 'em doing his country's work
(and who's to look after the room?)
Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay - pay - pay !

Let us manage so as, later, we can look him in the face,
And tell him - what he'd very much prefer
That, while he saved the Empire, his employer saved his place,
And his mates (that's you and me) looked out for her.
He's an absent-minded beggar and he may forget it all,
But we do not want his kiddies to remind him
That we sent 'em to the workhouse while their daddy hammered Paul,
So we'll help the homes that Tommy left behind him !
Cook's home - Duke's home - home of a millionaire,

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Price To Play

Fail to see
how destructive we can be
taking without giving back
'til the damage can be seen
can you see?
can you see?
The more you take
The more you blame
But everything still feels the same
The more you hurt
The more you strain
The price you pay to play to game
Then all you see
And all you gain
And all you step on without shame
There are no rules
No one to blame
The price to play the game
Apathy
the chosen way to be
blindly look the other way
while you waste away with me
can you see?
can you see?
The more you take
The more you blame
But everything still feels the same
The more you hurt
The more you strain
The price you pay to play to game
Then all you see
And all you gain
And all you step on without shame
There are no rules
No one to blame
The price to play the game
What you pay to play the game
what you pay to play the game
what you pay to play the game
what you pay to play the game
The more you take
The more you blame
But everything still feels the same
The more you hurt
The more you strain
The price you pay to play to game
Then all you see
And all you gain
And all you step on without shame
There are no rules

[...] Read more

song performed by Staind
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pay For What You Get

Work ourselves, fingers to the bone
Suck the morrow, drain my soul
Pay your dues, and your debts
Pay your respects, everybody tells you
You pay for what you get
You pay for what you get
Everybody asks me how shes doing
Has she really lost her mind?
I said, I couldnt tell you Ive lost mine
Words, words, words have you heard
A bird in hand is much better than,
Any number free to wander
Fly away...
Stay
You pay for what you get
You pay for what you get
Everybody asks me how shes doing
Has she really lost her...
Everybody asks me how shes doing
Since she went away
I said I couldnt tell
Im okay
Im okay
Im okay, how are you?
Pay for what you get...
Pay for what you get...oh...
Pay for what you get...
Pay for what you get...
Oh...

song performed by Dave Matthews Band
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pay You Back With Interest

(clarke / hicks / nash)
Too many people need me
Ive got so much, so much to do
But when my travelling is over
Ill pay you back with interest
Ill pay you back with interest
It seems unfair to leave you
And sell myself the way I do
But when my wandering is over
Ill pay you back with interest
Ill pay you back with interest
Most of my life Ive been moving
And when I tire out Ill come home to you
But until then Ill be waiting
Ill pay you back with interest
Ill pay you back with interest
How cold is my room, (how cold is my room)
Without your love beside me
We look at the same old moon (looking at the moon)
But youre not here beside me
Ill pay you back with interest
Ill pay you back with interest
Break
Too many people need me
Ive got so much, so much to do
But when my travelling is over
Ill pay you back with interest
Ill pay you back with interest

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Rule Of The A.J.C.

Come all ye bold trainers attend to my song,
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
You mustn't train ponies, for that's very wrong
By the rules of the A.J.C.
You have to wear winkers when crossing the street,
For fear that a pony you'd happen to meet
If you hear one about, you must beat a retreat,
That's a rule of the A.J.C.

And all ye bold owners will find without fail
By the rules of the A.J.C.
The jockey boys' fees you must pay at the scale,
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
When your horse wins a fiver, you'll laugh, I'll be bound,
But you won't laugh so much by the time that you've found
That the fee to the boy is exactly ten pound!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.

And all ye bold 'Books' who are keeping a shop,
In the rules of the A.J.C.,
There's a new regulation that says you must stop!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
You must give up your shop with its pipes and cigars
To an unlicensed man who is thanking his stars,
While you go and bet in the threepenny bars,
That's a rule of the A.J.C.

And all ye small jockeys who ride in a race,
In the rules of the A.J.C.
If owners' instructions are 'Don't get a place',
By the rules of the A.J.C.,
You must ride the horse out, though, of course, if you do
You will get no more mounts, it's starvation to you.
But, bless you, you'll always find plenty to chew
In the rules of the A.J.C.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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The Rule of the A.J.C.

Come all ye bold trainers attend to my song,
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
You mustn't train ponies, for that's very wrong
By the rules of the A.J.C.
You have to wear winkers when crossing the street,
For fear that a pony you'd happen to meet
If you hear one about, you must beat a retreat --
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
And all ye bold owners will find without fail
By the rules of the A.J.C.
The jockey boys' fees you must pay at the scale --
It's a rule of the A.J.C.
When your horse wins a fiver, you'll laugh, I'll be bound,
But you won't laugh so much by the time that you've found
That the fee to the boy is exactly ten pound!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.

And all ye bold "Books" who are keeping a shop,
In the rules of the A.J.C.,
There's a new regulation that says you must stop!
That's a rule of the A.J.C.
You must give up your shop with its pipes and cigars
To an unlicensed man who is thanking his stars,
While you go and bet in the threepenny bars --
That's a rule of the A.J.C.

And all ye small jockeys who ride in a race,
In the rules of the A.J.C.
If owners' instructions are "Don't get a place",
By the rules of the A.J.C.,
You must ride the horse out -- though, of course, if you do
You will get no more mounts, it's starvation to you.
But, bless you, you'll always find plenty to chew
In the rules of the A.J.C.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Owners of Pockets Full and Deep

It is incomprehensible to perceive,
Those born and taught to be thieves...
Would have giving hearts for anyone to believe,
They would rush to the aid of others seeking...
Opportunities.
Or share a piece of a stolen pie.

Those who have created for themselves abundance,
Did not do so...
Crawling and clawing their way through tons,
Of grit and grim or mud of any kind.
Those stories may be told...
To deceive enchanted by good fiction.

However,
Those who are the owners of pockets full and deep...
Usually are not graduates of a nine to five.
And rarely have they received,
An abundance that they hoard...
Based on philosophies of sharing with their fellowman.

Folks like these are out to get as much as they can,
While keeping it out of the hands of others.
And that is the nature of a mind,
Nurtured on materialistic feeding.
What one like this gets...
Is meant to tease others in need.

Owners of pockets full and deep,
Pay to ensure...
Those unconscious,
Are kept to stay unaware in a sleep.
With the dangling of carrots...
Far out of their reach!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Vanity Kills

Have you heard the latest? (you love you)
Have you seen who just walked in (vain vain vain vain)
(uh huh, you love you) right over there
Shes so vain vain vain vain
Vain vain vain vain
Im glad youve found someone who loves you
But sad to say that someone is you
And now perhaps youll both be happy
Guess that makes two just you and you
Someone who cares so much about you
But does that someone have to be you
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, it kills
So glad I found you glancing in the mirror
Gazing deeply at loves patron saint
Admire the frame, survey the scenery
Or are you just inspecting the paint
Temptations strong modestys so weak
High on yourself humble you aint
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom yeah
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills (no way)
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, it kills
So vain, vain vain vain
You love you (yeah)
Give it, give it us, give it us
So vain, so vain, so vain
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, it dont pay bills
Vanity kills, you love you
Vanity kills, if the blast dont get you
Then the fallout will
You love you

song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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