Quotes like There are many more serial...

There are many more serial killers living outside the prison walls than inside.

quote by Pat Brown
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Killers

A man took an ad on T.V.
To enrol in the police academy
He's very talented, outstanding proof
From his clean-cut apperance to the shine on his boots
When it comes to graduation, he's number one
An expert with a rifal and also a gun
Three weeks on the beat and his weak nerves crack
And fires four warning shots into a kid's back
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! bloodthirsty killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
A young girl marries an older man
With more money than you can understand
He smouthers her with pearls and jewellery
And they both seemed as happy as they could be
But three months later, she's sad but content
Seems he had an unexpected accident
The girl said he would be hard to forget
As the papers interviewed her while she flew his jet
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! she was the killers
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
It's time for all to work together for peace
'Cause everybody's doomed if the killings don't cease
Street homicide, war, it's all the same
'Cause murder is murder by any name
An young man loses his only job
To proud to hustle, too honest to rob
He goes to tell his family an his wife
But an argument breaks out, she grabs a knife
Tempers esculate to a total rage
Shots burst out from a loaded twelve-guage
They call it mass murder, suicide
BUT SOMEBODY TELL ME WHY THE KIDS HAD TO DIE
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! the coldhearted killers
KILLERS! bloodthirsty killers
KILLERS! beware of the killers
Vietnam vet, home from the war
Can't get a job in a candy store
Unemployment hurts and he's living proof
So to take out his frustration, he climbs on the roof
He shows no pity as victims are shot
The only thing to stop him are the bullets from SWAT
Ten people died on a sunny day
BUT TELL ME WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO SHOOT THAT WAY
KILLERS! these are the killers
KILLERS! you know the killers

[...] Read more

song performed by Ice T
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Born In A Prison

Were born in a prison, raised in a prison,
Sent to a prison called school.
We cry in a prison, we love in a prison,
We dream in a prison like fools.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
We live with no reason, kicked round for no reason,
Thrown out without reason like tools.
We work in a prison and hate in a prison,
And die in a prison as a rule.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
We live in a prison mong judges and wardens
And wait for no reason for you.
We laugh in a prison, go through all four seasons,
And die with no vision of truth.
Wood becomes a flute when its loved,
Reach for yourself and your battered mates.
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken,
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate.
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!
Born in a prison!
Born in a prison!
(born in a prison!)
(born in a prison!)
Born in a prison!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Born In A Prison

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Reading Gaol

(In memoriam
C. T. W.
Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards
obiit H.M. prison, Reading, Berkshire
July 7, 1896)

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'THAT FELLOW'S GOT TO SWING.'

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

[...] Read more

poem by Oscar Wilde
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Walls

Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.

Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.

Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.

Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.

Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Ballad of Reading Gaol - I

Version I

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'That fellows got to swing.'

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved
And so he had to die.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,

[...] Read more

poem by Oscar Wilde
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Ballad of Reading Gaol II

Version II

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby gray;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'That fellow's got to swing.'

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what haunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

[...] Read more

poem by Oscar Wilde
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Killers Eyes

I see so little hope in you,
So much despair,
As I look in your eyes I wonder,
What thoughts linger there.
Life means nothing to you,
At least thats what they say,
But it doesnt mean that you have the right to take life away.
How were we to know what was going on inside your mind.
You never let it show what was going on behind
Those killers eyes
Killers eyes
Youve seen your picture in the paper.
Youre little sisters pinned it on the wall.
She thinks youre in some kind of movie.
Imagine her surprise when she saw you on the news.
Reporters came around and asked for interviews.
So little compassion, so icy cool.
They say you were a poor boy, you know that life can be cruel.
Hate builds up from childhood, your world was a slum
But you havent got the right to blow it to kingdom come
How could we know what it was like inside a killers mind
It never really showed, you kept the secret deep inside
Those killers eyes
Killers eyes
You say the world is full of bullshit,
So you kill just as you see fit.
They say that youre a fanatic with a mission.
We all go through hell in some kind of way,
Can you tell me what its like to be there every day?
When you were young you had a vision
Whyd you go and do a thing like that?
And now we see you on the television.
Imagine our surprise when we saw you on the news,
And reporters came around and asked for interviews.
I see so little hope in you,
So much despair,
As I look in your eyes I wonder,
What thoughts linger there.
Life means nothing to you,
At least thats what they say,
But it doesnt mean that you have the right to take life away.
When you were just a child
Youd hide away when other children cried
But how were we to know
These tears that flowed were from a killers eyes
I see so little hope in you,
So much despair,
As I look in your eyes I wonder,
What thoughts linger there.
Life means nothing to you,

[...] Read more

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 O’Clock Poems)

Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...

Remembering you is good
your hand
forgotten upon a blue dress
your hair
with the grave softness
of the earth of my beloved Istanbul.
This joy of loving you
is like a second person inside me...
The smell of geranium leaves
on your fingertips
warm and comforting
The invitation of your flesh
a hot
intense darkness
scored by vivid red lines...

Remembering you is good
or writing about you
as I lie on my back
in prison
thinking of such and such a day
at such and such a place
of some words you said
not of the words so much
but of the world and you within them...

Remembering you is good
I must carve some things for you again
a jewel box
a ring
I must weave a length of thin silk
then jump up
and clutching the window bars
shout what I have written for you
to the innocent blue
of freedom.

Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
1942

[...] Read more

poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Walls Of Red Wing

Oh, the age of the inmates
I remember quite freely:
No younger than twelve,
No older n seventeen.
Thrown in like bandits
And cast off like criminals,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
From the dirty old mess hall
You march to the brick wall,
Too weary to talk
And too tired to sing.
Oh, its all afternoon
You remember your home town,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, the gates are cast iron
And the walls are barbed wire.
Stay far from the fence
With the lectricity sting.
And its keep down your head
And stay in your number,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, its fare thee well
To the deep hollow dungeon,
Farewell to the boardwalk
That takes you to the screen.
And farewell to the minutes
They threaten you with it,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Its many a guard
That stands around smilin,
Holdin his club
Like he was a king.
Hopin to get you
Behind a wood pilin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
The night aimed shadows
Through the crossbar windows,
And the wind punched hard
To make the wall-siding sing.
Its many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
As the rain rattled heavy
On the bunk-house shingles,
And the sounds in the night,

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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When The Walls Came Tumbling Down

On the first day of the first month in some distant year
The whole sky froze golden
Some said it was the aftermath of the radium bomb
While others told of a final retribution
A terrible revenge of the gods

But we understood the grand finale
Fulfillment of a prophecy told many years before
So all that was left was...

All the women were captured and chained
And national suicide was proclaimed
And New America fell to the ground
And all the children lay crippled and lame
But all the nations came together
In fear of the thought of the end
No more would we fight in the streets
No courage had we to defend

When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound

A blinding light the sun had died
A new moon took its place
Tidal waves and open graves the fate of the unhuman race
The city's heart no longer beats no pity have I left to lend
A sinner sits reciting Dylan it's now that I welcome the end

When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound

[...] Read more

song performed by Def Leppard from On Through The Night
Added by Lucian Velea
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Born In Prison

Were born in a prison
Raised in a prison
Sent to a prison called school
We cry in a prison
We love in a prison
We dream in a prison like fools
Wood becomes a flute when its loved
Reach for yourself and your battered mates
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate
We live with no reason
Kicked around for no reason
Thrown out without reason like tools
We work in a prison
And hate in a prison
And die in a prison as a rule
Wood becomes a flute when its loved
Reach for yourself and your battered mates
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate
We live in a prison
Among judges and wardens
And wait for no reason for you
We laugh in a prison
Go through all four seasons
And die with no vision of truth
Wood becomes a flute when its loved
Reach for yourself and your battered mates
Mirror becomes a razor when its broken
Look in the mirror and see your shattered fate

song performed by Lennon John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bad Dream

Im living in a bad dream.
Theyre supposed to be here by now.
What the hell is taking them so long?
I parked the car just like they said.
Now, Im sitting, waiting for a bullet in my head.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream gone bad.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream
Im living in a bad dream thats sad.
Im supposed to be feeling better by now.
What the hell is taking me so long?
I hit the hay just like they said.
Now, Im sitting, waiting for a bell in my head.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream gone bad.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream
Im living in a bad dream thats sad.
On a curve, lost control.
On a cliff, lost control.
This is not happening to me.
I say so.
Im supposed to be a better person by now.
What the hell is taking me so long?
Dying saviors off sum cross.
Now, Im hoping and Im praying that theyll nullify my losses.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream gone bad.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream
Im living in a bad dream thats sad.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream gone bad.
Im living in a bad dream.
Im living in a bad dream
Im living in a bad dream thats sad.
Im living in a bad dream.
Gordon gano: vocals, guitar
Brian ritchie: acoustic bass guitar, vocals, autoharp
Guy hoffman: drums, vocals
David vartanian: electric piano
Produced by brian ritchie and gordon gano
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwaukee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission

song performed by Violent Femmes
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Idols

An Ode
Luce intellettual, piena d' amore

Prelude
Lo, the spirit of a pulsing star within a stone
Born of earth, sprung from night!
Prisoned with the profound fires of the light
That lives like all the tongues of eloquence
Locked in a speech unknown!
The crystal, cold and hard as innocence,
Immures the flame; and yet as if it knew
Raptures or pangs it could not but betray,
As if the light could feel changes of blood and breath
And all--but--human quiverings of the sense,
Throbs of a sudden rose, a frosty blue,
Shoot thrilling in its ray,
Like the far longings of the intellect
Restless in clouding clay.

Who has confined the Light? Who has held it a slave,
Sold and bought, bought and sold?
Who has made of it a mystery to be doled,
Or trophy, to awe with legendary fire,
Where regal banners wave?
And still into the dark it sends Desire.
In the heart's darkness it sows cruelties.
The bright jewel becomes a beacon to the vile,
A lodestar to corruption, envy's own:
Soiled with blood, fought for, clutched at; this world's prize,
Captive Authority. Oh, the star is stone
To all that outward sight,
Yet still, like truth that none has ever used,
Lives lost in its own light.

Troubled I fly. O let me wander again at will
(Far from cries, far from these
Hard blindnesses and frozen certainties!)
Where life proceeds in vastness unaware
And stirs profound and still:
Where leafing thoughts at shy touch of the air
Tremble, and gleams come seeking to be mine,
Or dart, like suddenly remembered youth,
Like the ache of love, a light, lost, found, and lost again.
Surely in the dusk some messenger was there!
But, haunted in the heart, I thirst, I pine.--
Oh, how can truth be truth
Except I taste it close and sweet and sharp
As an apple to the tooth?

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Laurence Binyon
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Locked Inside Your Prison

Your love is like a prison wall
And its getting higher
I get so far and then I fall
I cant get through the wire
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Its as though Im doing time
And you wont free me
Let the punishment befit the crime
And say you need me
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Save me save me cant you see Im innocent
Turn the key that will set me free
Please let it end oh let it end
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Save me save me cant you see Im innocent
Turn the key that will set me free
Please let it end wont you let it end
Ill dig a tunnel to your heart
Let me remind you
Even gonna tear the walls apart
Until I find you
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison

song performed by Cliff Richard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ideas For Walls

So many things in my head, Ive always had them before
No reason to be upset, theyre just ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Like putting paint on my feet & walking sideways in rows
My walls could be so complete, complete with patterns of toes
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing the left side, right side, which is the right side
Now-ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
A little m for the mirror, a double u for the wall
To make things perfectly clear, a great big h in the hall
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Is everybody confused? (no) Im making no sense at all
You want a room with a view you need ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing inside, outside, outside, right side
Inside, outside, which is the right side
Now -- ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas
Theyre just ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls

song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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Underground Killers

They kill for a reason
They'll strike anyone
Doesn't matter how old or young
Pay 'em big cash, they'll give 'em a slash
Explain how it should be done
A shot in the head
The man cut in half
Tortured 'till death
You'll never see him back
CHORUS
Underground killers
They are everywhere
Killing for money
They don't care
Leaving their victims covered with blood
Underground killers
Will make a mess
Whose killing plans have been set
Murdering their victims without mercy
They promise to make it worse
Tell 'em their next mission
And they'll give 'em death
Burn him alive
A high voltage jolt
A stab in the back
They promise you'll see him dead
Slay the victim to death
Dead bodies everywhere
Brutality is their authority
Killers are not afraid of death
CHORUS
Underground killers
They are everywhere
Killing for money
They don't care
Leaving their victims covered with blood
Underground killers
Will make a mess
Whose killing plans have been set
Murdering their victims without mercy
They promise to make it worse
More massacre for the long future generation
Their customers are the only police source of information
You've paid 'em in full
For the dirty job they've done
Now you must die
Like the other ones

song performed by Incubus
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ancient Banner

In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
A servant's form, though he had reigned a king,
In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,
Or the creating words, 'Let there be light'
In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,
His Deity and his Omnipotence,
Were manifest in miracles. Disease
Fled at his bidding, and the buried dead
Rose from the sepulchre, reanimate,
At his command, or, on the passing bier
Sat upright, when he touched it. But he came,
Not for this only, but to introduce
A glorious dispensation, in the place
Of types and shadows of the Jewish code.
Upon the mount, and round Jerusalem,
He taught a purer, and a holier law,—
His everlasting Gospel, which is yet
To fill the earth with gladness; for all climes
Shall feel its influence, and shall own its power.
He came to suffer, as a sacrifice
Acceptable to God. The sins of all
Were laid upon Him, when in agony
He bowed upon the cross. The temple's veil
Was rent asunder, and the mighty rocks,
Trembled, as the incarnate Deity,
By his atoning blood, opened that door,
Through which the soul, can have communion with
Its great Creator; and when purified,
From all defilements, find acceptance too,
Where it can finally partake of all
The joys of His salvation.
But the pure Church he planted,—the pure Church
Which his apostles watered,—and for which,
The blood of countless martyrs freely flowed,
In Roman Amphitheatres,—on racks,—
And in the dungeon's gloom,—this blessed Church,
Which grew in suffering, when it overspread
Surrounding nations, lost its purity.
Its truth was hidden, and its light obscured
By gross corruption, and idolatry.
As things of worship, it had images,
And even painted canvas was adored.
It had a head and bishop, but this head
Was not the Saviour, but the Pope of Rome.
Religion was a traffic. Men defiled,
Professed to pardon sin, and even sell,
The joys of heaven for money,—and to raise
Souls out of darkness to eternal light,
For paltry silver lavished upon them.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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My Needs Not Met

I'm manifesting something brittle.
Something needing special company.
I fiddle-faddled in the middle.
And weakened both batteries.

I'm manifesting something brittle.
And I'm seeking from you empathy...
Cause my baby has had it with me.
And now I find myself...
Walking up and down the streets.

I'm manifesting something brittle.
Something needing special company.
I fiddle-faddled in the middle.
And weakened both batteries.

I'm manifesting something brittle.
And I'm seeking from you empathy...
Cause my baby has had it with me.
And now I find myself...
Walking up and down the streets.

Never thought I'd be the one.
Living on the streets.
Disbelieving...
And living on the streets.
And seeing...
Living on the streets,
My needs not met!
Living on the streets.
And regretting.
Living on the streets.

Never thought I'd be the one.
Living on the streets.
And seeing...
Living on the streets,
My needs...
Living on the streets,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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