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Fernando Pessoa

At first, it's unfamiliar, then it strikes root.

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Chug-a-lug

Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Gary likes a girls tight black pants
Larry knows he doesnt stand a chance
Carl says hurry up and order it quick
Dave gets out to chase that chick
Dennis wonders whats under the hood
A big chrome tach and it sounds real good
I go down to the root beer stand
And drink up all that I can
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Brians still glued to the radio
Louies lookin out the rear window
Guys got around to orderin fries
But root beers my best buy
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now

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Snag It From The Root

Snap and snag it from the root.
Use every resource you have got.
Clip and snip,
To replant.
If that's what you have to do!

Make up your mind,
You will do all the weeding that's done.
Make up your mind,
You will do all the weeding that's done.
Make up your mind,
You will do all the weeding that's done.
From Sunrise until Sunset comes.

Snag it back and get it from the root.
You can snap it back from the root.
Crack it back until you get the main thing done.
You can snag it from the root!

Snap,
And snag it from the root.
You can snap it back from the root.
Crack it back until you get the main thing done.
You can snag it from the root!

Make up your mind,
You will do all the weeding that's done.
Make up your mind,
You will do all the weeding that's done.
Make up your mind,
You will do all the weeding that's done.
From Sunrise until Sunset comes.

Snap,
And snag it from the root.
You can snap it back from the root.
Crack it back until you get the main thing done.
You can snag it from the root!

You can snag it from the root!
Snap,
And snag it from the root.
Crack it back until you get the main thing done.
You can snag it from the root!

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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

[...] Read more

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The Nurse's Watch

From 'The Boy's Wonderhorn'


The moon it shines,
My darling whines;
The clock strikes twelve:--God cheer
The sick both far and near.
God knoweth all;
Mousy nibbles in the wall;
The clock strikes one:--like day,
Dreams o'er thy pillow play.
The matin-bell
Wakes the nun in convent cell;
The clock strikes two:--they go
To choir in a row.
The wind it blows,
The cock he crows;
The clock strikes three:--the wagoner
In his straw bed begins to stir.
The steed he paws the floor,
Creaks the stable door;
The clock strikes four:--'tis plain
The coachman sifts his grain.
The swallow's laugh the still air shakes,
The sun awakes;
The clock strikes five:--the traveler must be gone,
He puts his stockings on.
The hen is clacking,
The ducks are quacking;
The clock strikes six:--awake, arise,
Thou lazy hag; come, ope thy eyes.
Quick to the baker's run;
The rolls are done;
The clock strikes seven:--
'Tis time the milk were in the oven.
Put in some butter, do,
And some fine sugar, too;
The clock strikes eight:--
Now bring my baby's porridge straight.

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Lightning Strikes

Boys, it looks, are ready to rumble
The word on the street some heads are gonna tumble
Blades gonna flash when streets gang clash
In the avenue tonight
When the lightning strikes
Zip gun johnnys finger is itchin
The lids gonna blow up in hells kitchen
Its an eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
Its so ruthless when they fight
When the lightning strikes
And its free for all in the parking lot
And wholl rule the street
And the night explodes
When the cops bring down the heat
And the chains they crash like thunder
While the weak ones all retreat
Gotta draw first blood
Or theyll read your funeral rights
When the lightning strikes
Its dog eat dog when you meet your rival
And the combat zone its your means of survival
Gonna get last licks on a suicide blitz
With a broken dagger knife
When the lightning strikes
And its free for all in the parking lot
And wholl rule the street
And the night explodes
When the cops bring down the heat
And the chains they crash like thunder
While the weak ones all retreat
Gotta draw first blood
Or theyll read your funeral rights
Oh, oh...
When the lightning strikes
When the lightning strikes
When the lightning strikes
Lightning and thunder
When the lightning strikes...

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Lightning Strikes

Wont you listen cos Im at it again
Lightning striking and on that you can depend
They say that lightning never strikes the same place twice
Gods of thunder sit and watch the event
You know I take no prisoners
My backs to the wall
You know I must be going
When destiny calls
Until I feel that thunder shattering my brain
I wont stop
Rockin all night rockin all night
Until the lightning strikes again
Rockin all night rockin all night
Until the lightning strikes again
Tell your mama that youre gonna be late
But not to worry well just be rockin all night
The lightning strikes before you hear the thunder roar
Were becoming the children of the night
Im not apologizing
I am what I am
There is no compromising
I dont give a damn
Until I feel the thunder boiling in my veins
I wont stop
Rockin all night rockin all night
Until the lightning strikes again
Rockin all night rockin all night
Until the lightning strikes again
Oh no Ive lost control
Here we got its only rock n roll
The silver light is flashing
As all turns to gold
In my head voices screaming
And Im being told
If you will only listen you will hear them too
I wont stop
Rockin all night rockin all night
Until the lightning strikes again
Rockin all night rockin all night
Until the lightning strikes again

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The book sealed with seven seals

I had a dream that I heard the voices
of uncountable angels, beings
and elders around the throne of the Almighty One
proclaiming that the lamb that was slain is worthy.
Their appearance was blindingly bright,
but the radiance of the Almighty God on His throne
and of His Son was so intense
that it wanted to burn my eyes
and I stood back
and the hour work started to ring off the last strikes.

When the Son of God
who died on the cross
opened the book that only He can,
He took the book
with His nail marked hands
and broke the first seal.
A being spoke with a voice
sounding like thunder: Come and look!
A white horse appeared
and the rider of it had a crown
and a bow en rode out to conquer
and the hour work started to ring off the last strikes.

A second being talking with lightning
that strikes out said: Come look!
When the Lamb broke the second seal
the head of a flaming red horse appeared
and the rider took a big sword,
to cause nobody to have peace
and the hour work started to ring off the last strikes.

A third being let thunder reverberate
come and look!
When the Son of man
reached His hand to the third seal
there was a pitch-black horse
and the rider took a scale in his hand
and a mighty voice said:
a measure of wheat for a coin
three measures of barley for a coin
and do not harm
the oil and wine
and the hour work started to ring off the last strikes.

A fourth being’s voice carried blue thunder sparks
when he said: come look!
When the Son that is God
opened the fourth seal there was a grey horse
and the rider was death and he rode away,

[...] Read more

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Georgic 2

Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;
Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,
The forest's young plantations and the fruit
Of slow-maturing olive. Hither haste,
O Father of the wine-press; all things here
Teem with the bounties of thy hand; for thee
With viny autumn laden blooms the field,
And foams the vintage high with brimming vats;
Hither, O Father of the wine-press, come,
And stripped of buskin stain thy bared limbs
In the new must with me.
First, nature's law
For generating trees is manifold;
For some of their own force spontaneous spring,
No hand of man compelling, and possess
The plains and river-windings far and wide,
As pliant osier and the bending broom,
Poplar, and willows in wan companies
With green leaf glimmering gray; and some there be
From chance-dropped seed that rear them, as the tall
Chestnuts, and, mightiest of the branching wood,
Jove's Aesculus, and oaks, oracular
Deemed by the Greeks of old. With some sprouts forth
A forest of dense suckers from the root,
As elms and cherries; so, too, a pigmy plant,
Beneath its mother's mighty shade upshoots
The bay-tree of Parnassus. Such the modes
Nature imparted first; hence all the race
Of forest-trees and shrubs and sacred groves
Springs into verdure.
Other means there are,
Which use by method for itself acquired.
One, sliving suckers from the tender frame
Of the tree-mother, plants them in the trench;
One buries the bare stumps within his field,
Truncheons cleft four-wise, or sharp-pointed stakes;
Some forest-trees the layer's bent arch await,
And slips yet quick within the parent-soil;
No root need others, nor doth the pruner's hand
Shrink to restore the topmost shoot to earth
That gave it being. Nay, marvellous to tell,
Lopped of its limbs, the olive, a mere stock,
Still thrusts its root out from the sapless wood,
And oft the branches of one kind we see
Change to another's with no loss to rue,
Pear-tree transformed the ingrafted apple yield,
And stony cornels on the plum-tree blush.
Come then, and learn what tilth to each belongs
According to their kinds, ye husbandmen,
And tame with culture the wild fruits, lest earth

[...] Read more

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Love Of Money

Chorus:
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the work of the devil
Love of money
She began running for the border and her life
Like the wind, straight into the terror of the night
And she survived, bargaining her body for their gold
In the end all she had to sell them was her soul
Thats the way it goes
Chorus:
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the work of the devil
Love of money
We began reaching for the future like a dream
In a land where everything was free
Wordly men turned their profits into war
No one knows who were really fighting for
Chorus:
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the work of the devil
Love of money
Chorus:
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the root of all evil
Love of money is the work of the devil
Love of money

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Execution, The : A Sporting Anecdote Hon. Mr. Sucklethumbkin's Story

My Lord Tomnoddy got up one day;
It was half after two,
He had nothing to do,
So his Lordship rang for his cabriolet.

Tiger Tim
Was clean of limb,
His boots were polish'd, his jacket was trim
With a very smart tie in his smart cravat,
And a smart cockade on the top of his hat;
Tallest of boys, or shortest of men,
He stood in his stockings just four foot ten
And he ask'd, as he held the door on the swing,
'Pray, did your Lordship please to ring?'

My Lord Tomnoddy he raised his head,
And thus to Tiger Tim he said,
'Malibran's dead,
Duvernay's fled,
Taglioni has not yet arrived in her stead;
Tiger Tim, come tell me true,
What may a Nobleman find to do?--

Tim look'd up, and Tim look'd down,
He paused, and he put on a thoughtful frown,
And he held up his hat, and he peep'd in the crown;
He bit his lip, and he scratch'd his head,
He let go the handle, and thus he said,
As the door, released, behind him bang'd:
'An't please you, my Lord, there 's a man to be hang'd.

My Lord Tomnoddy jump'd up at the news,
'Run to M'Fuze,
And Lieutenant Tregooze,
And run to Sir Carnaby Jenks, of the Blues.
Rope-dancers a score
I've seen before --
Madame Sacchi, Antonio, and Master Blackmore;
But to see a man swing
At the end of a string,
With his neck in a noose, will be quite a new thing!'

My Lord Tomnoddy stept into his cab --
Dark rifle green, with a lining of drab;
Through street and through square,
His high-trotting mare,
Like one of Ducrow's, goes pawing the air.
Adown Piccadilly and Waterloo Place
Went the high-trotting mare at a very quick pace;
She produced some alarm,

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But On The Other Hand

Death is Bad;
but it is slimming.

Life is Good;
Except when it is Bad

Heaven is good
but it is too far away
and I wonder if there
is dating there
or marriage.

Why do Arab Martyrs
get 21 virgins in Heaven?
Where do they come from?

Dying is ok by me
I just don't want it to be unpleasant
and I certainly don't want to watch;
don't want you to watch either.

I like birds
but the way they fly around
seems frivolous.

Happiness is over-rated;
but then again
so is misery.

I like kissing
but the spit part
and the lips-
can't you catch something?

The little girl said
'Sex is like blowing up a balloon
and then the baby cries.'

He said;
'Women are like precious diamonds
hard on the outside
hard on the inside
but make-up and lighting
makes them look shiny.
But they are far more valuable than men.

Men are like custard pie
delicious when fresh
but not fulfilling
enough for dinner;

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Search For The Divine

Words are few to describe the gentle crackling of an early dawn
When dark turns to life in a crisp new bristling
When enthused winged creatures stir away the nightly yawn
With sounds of verve on green growth moist’ning
Oh the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

When in the midst of those who speak with crudeness
With tongues dragging forlorn in the slums of mind
From mouths that leak into bits of lewdness
I yearn to places apart from the residue of such kind
To the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

I stand at a coast on the rocks in the night
Gazing out over waters with waves at wild
On the skyline flashes of lightning with might
Light the dark brooding clouds and rain falling mild
Oh this marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

A day-by-day dwelling through the mindsets of mass
A gray weary walk through the tunes of this plight
With compulsions of comfort composed by a reigning class
I long to be free from the desolate symphony of man’s delight
And to marvel at the passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

When an old haggard soul cross my way
From wounds of before dried up and bare
And new waters soak his spirit to fertile clay
For luscious life to sprout with sparkling dare
I marvel at this passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

From a place deep within the core of depravity
Ripples of damage rise and shake stability
Tearing up a world to die a debased cavity
Of famine, lust and greed which smiles, reveling its ability
Oh I crave the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills

I can no more refrain from calling His Name
He’s the only music to the silence of death
My Father, Friend and Christ who took our blame
Symphony of life and harmony of love
He is the marvel of passion that fills
The root of beauty piercing senses when our hearts stills

(2008-09-15)

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Bigmouth Strikes Again

Sweetness, sweetness i was only joking
When i said i'd like to smash every tooth
In your head
Oh ... sweetness, sweetness, i was only joking
When i said by rights you should be
Bludgeoned in your bed
And now i know how joan of arc felt
Now i know how joan of arc felt, oh
As the flames rose to her roman nose
And her walkman started to melt
Oh ...
Bigmouth, la ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the human race
Oh, bigmouth, ha ha ... bigmouth, la
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the human race
And now i know how joan of arc felt
Now i know how joan of arc felt, oh
As the flames rose to a roman nose
And her hearing aid started to melt
Eek !
Oh, bigmouth, la ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
With the human race
Oh ...
Bigmouth, oh ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the human race
And now i know how joan of arc felt
Now i know how joan of arc felt, oh
As the flames rose to a roman nose
And her hearing aid started to melt
Oh !
Oh, bigmouth, oh ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the human race
Oh ...
Bigmouth, oh ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the human race
Oh ...
Bigmouth
Goodbye, and thankyou ! goodbye !

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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

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Discover your divine root

Discover your divine root

We make certain claims
Based on the fact we are sons of soil
But really speaking
We are on the earth through the soil
And not in fact from it
We have our root
Up there in heavens
And it is all divine
Our belief that we are from the soil
And our root is stuck there
Makes us put in efforts to
Accumulate, assess, account
Ascertain earthly things
We take pride with things we possess
We justify our move in that direction
As we consider these things add to comfort
And that these only form the scales
For others to decide the level of our success
But, instead of giving us the comfort we foresaw
They add to our worries, anxieties and what not
They even steal the peace we had earlier without their being there
They threaten our harmonious co-existence
With people and things around
We spend time and energy in keeping them under our hold
If your turn your interest on to the discovery
Of your divine root
You have a chance to stay balanced ever
Not that this effort towards discerning your divine root
Is going to hold you back from worldly things
You still be accumulating earthly things
They will flow into your life
You will also enjoy the comforts they offer
But, since you maintain a touch with divine
Your attachment to these will be loose
Your will not mind their presence or absence
And enjoy a well balanced mind set
With all your abilities to perform worldly acts in tact
Stay in touch with your divine root
And have a great living ever

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Amazon Jungle After Alfred Tennyson The Brook

By mangrove swamps I idle round,
my canopy's world wonder,
leafcutter ants beneath the ground
where three toed sloths would wander.

Tall forest Tarzan never knew
from ground grows great, colossal.
My ecosystem filters through
sward broadleaf basin fossil.

I wind about, and in and out,
with here a silted delta,
an anaconda round about
observes the helter-skelter.

Pass here and there a native hut
pirogues moored to lianas,
with cataracts which canyons cut
mid mangroves and bananas.

I link all life all along my route,
but scoff at lilly-liver,
some men pollute both tree and root -
for them who cares a stiver.

I'd slide by lazing jaguars
admired by nature lovers,
lush greens, blush browns flushed far from bars,
barred are crass concrete covers.

I turn, return, upstream and down,
here deep, there sleep in shallows,
wild orchid winning wonder's crown:
soon jungle man's trace swallows.

Six thousand kilometers long
from Andes to Atlantic
my tributaries maze among
an area gigantic.

I'd flourish under moon and stars
an Eden no machetes
can cut down, with no motor cars,
few churches, no confettis.

My birds and monkeys most hirsute
cry by the flowing river,
though men pollute both tree and root,
Time is the best forgiver.

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Where Do I Belong

Ohhh.. Ohhh..
Life doesn't promise a bed of roses
Or white knights
Fields of emotions I'm trapped in darkness
Why me
Save me
To win this twisted war inside me
Won't justify the pain
Life doesn't promise a bed of roses
Chorus:
Lightening strikes the pages keep on turning
Help me to be strong
I'm floating in a sea of strange believers
Where do I belong?
Ohhh.. Ohh..
They paint a picture of perfect nowhere blue skies
Within every lie there's a web of comfort
For them
Not me
To win this twisted war inside me
Won't justify the pain
They paint you a picture of perfect nowhere
Chorus:
I said now
Lightening strikes the pages keep on turning
Help me to be strong
I'm floating in a sea of strange believers
Where do I belong?
Where do we go from here?
I wish I would disappear
I'm a lonely soul
So far from home
Yeah, yeah, yeah..
Lightening strikes the pages keep on turning
Help me, help me
I'm floating in a sea of strange believers
Where do I.. I said
Lightening strikes, I said lightening strikes
Floating in a sea of strange believers
Where do I belong?

song performed by AnastaciaReport problemRelated quotes
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Thunderforce

Thunder- thunderforce
Thunder- thunderforce
In a lonely night- stars are shining bright
My soul is wandering- striking the universe
I am flying to a light- to a point of no return
In the name of a master- some spirit picks me up
Oh- I feel the heat
Getting attacked- Im fighting back
Oh- is this the light- the light of glory
Thunder- thunderforce- lightning strikes again
Thunder- thunderforce- lightning strikes again
Getting closer- you will see- the master- thats yourself, oh yeah
Oh- I feel the heat
Getting attacked- Im fighting back
Oh- is this the light- the light of glory
Thunder- thunderforce- lightning strikes again
Thunder- thunderforce- lightning strikes again
Thunder- thunderforce- striking the universe
Thunder- thunderforce- getting attacked- Im fighting back
Thunder- thunderforce- lightning strikes again
Thunder- thunderforce- dancing on fire- dancing in hell
Thunderforce

song performed by U. D. O.Report problemRelated quotes
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With You Somewhat Unfamiliar

With you somewhat unfamiliar, your smile goes
through all the barriers of my self-preservation,
infatuation surrounds me with great power.
with you somewhat unfamiliar,

your presence has got a deep simplicity;
your eyes, face and body has disconcerting beauty,
feelings bubble intimate and age-old

so half know and still unexpected
and we are both caught and unmarried
but I cannot resist your humanity,
with you somewhat unfamiliar.

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Soul So Alone (2011)

Oh well...

The day I was unearthed for poetry;
my unfamiliar heart rate had rang,
and was swept away by innocence...

The day that I advertised my poetry;
my unfamiliar heart rate harangued,
and was eager for love's suspense...

The day that 'we shared' our poetry;
my unfamiliar heart rate had sang,
and commenced gentle lovingness...

So then...

That night we celebrated our poetry;
my soul illuminated, as to enchant,
and ignited passion; drawing heads...

That night we had tested our poetry;
my soul composed love to interact,
and once more removal of threads...

That night 'the love' recited poetry;
my soul untangled as you cracked,
and unraveled the scaled insolence...

It happened...

The morn arrived to breathe poetry;
my spirit grasped the earth to relax,
and feel alive, yet stagnant...lifeless...

The morn arrived trialing for poetry;
my spirit recants a differed contact,
and perils of love and measurement...

The morn arrived addled by poetry;
my spirit's dignity flowed in content,
and yet whisper deaths next attempt...

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