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Squash - that's not exercise, it's flagellation.

quote by Noel Coward
Added by Lucian Velea
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Flagellation

Decoding every word you say
When you hurt yourself
There has to be a better way
for you to hate yourself
cause you don't understand
what I'm trying to say to you
You don't understand
I am here to help you
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain of a modern nation
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain, take the violation
It's gonna be allright
I punish you for every kiss
Look what you stole from me
Blessing you for all your sins
Hey you, you can never win
if you don't understand
what I'm trying to say to you
You don't understand
anything at all
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain of a modern nation
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain, take the violation
It's gonna be allright
Right here
only pain's gonna set you free
right now
you mean nothing to me
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain of a modern nation
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain, take the violation
Flagellation Flagellation
Come clean through the flagellation
Flagellation Flagellation
Take the pain, take the violation, yeah
Everything's gonna be OK
Everything's gonna be allright

song performed by Zeromancer
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Knyghthode and Bataile

A XVth Century Verse Paraphrase of Flavius Vegetius Renatus' Treatise 'DE RE MILITARI'

Proemium.
Salue, festa dies
i martis,
Mauortis! auete
Kalende. Qua Deus
ad celum subleuat
ire Dauid.

Hail, halyday deuout! Alhail Kalende
Of Marche, wheryn Dauid the Confessour
Commaunded is his kyngis court ascende;
Emanuel, Jhesus the Conquerour,
This same day as a Tryumphatour,
Sette in a Chaire & Throne of Maiestee,
To London is comyn. O Saviour,
Welcome a thousand fold to thi Citee!

And she, thi modir Blessed mot she be
That cometh eke, and angelys an ende,
Wel wynged and wel horsed, hidir fle,
Thousendys on this goode approche attende;
And ordir aftir ordir thei commende,
As Seraphin, as Cherubyn, as Throne,
As Domynaunce, and Princys hidir sende;
And, at o woord, right welcom euerychone!

But Kyng Herry the Sexte, as Goddes Sone
Or themperour or kyng Emanuel,
To London, welcomer be noo persone;
O souuerayn Lord, welcom! Now wel, Now wel!
Te Deum to be songen, wil do wel,
And Benedicta Sancta Trinitas!
Now prosperaunce and peax perpetuel
Shal growe,-and why? ffor here is Vnitas.

Therof to the Vnitee 'Deo gracias'
In Trinitee! The Clergys and Knyghthode
And Comynaltee better accorded nas
Neuer then now; Now nys ther noon abode,
But out on hem that fordoon Goddes forbode,
Periurous ar, Rebellovs and atteynte,
So forfaytinge her lyif and lyvelode,
Although Ypocrisie her faytys peynte.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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I Prefer

Have you run into the human race
Have you run into the world
Have you run into the system
And I raise the white flag
And I raise the white flag
And thats the way
I prefer... flagellation!
Have you run into your head
Have you run into your balls
Have you run into the human condition
And I raise the white flag
And I raise the white flag
And thats the way
I prefer... flagellation!
I prefer
Flagellation!

song performed by Ministry
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bar-Room Patriot

Why, 'ow's she goin', Bill, ole sport?
I thort I knoo your dile!
My oath! You look the proper sort!
That khaki soots your style.
I never 'eard you'd joined, yeh know
It makes me feel I want to go.

Must be a year or more, I s'pose,
Since last time we two met!
An' then, to see you in them clothes
Can't realise it yet!
I'm proud to think a friend o' mine
Is off to biff the German swine!

You look slap-up in that rig-out.
We ort to celebrate
I fell it's up to me to shout!
But - can't be done, ole mate!
For I 'ave took a solemn vow
I never shout for soldiers now.

No, Bill; you mustn't take offence;
You'll undertsand, I thnk.
I've come to see there ain't no sense
In buyin' soldiers drink.
I loves me country an' me king;
An' boozin' soldiers ain't the thing.

An' yet it's sich a time ago
Since you an' me 'ave met,
It's sorter 'ard to let you go
Without one little wet.
Say, come in 'ere, an' you can take
A soft'un, jist fer ole time's sake.

Well, Bill - 'ere MIss! Don't you attend
To customers in 'ere?
A lime-an'-soder fer me friend:
And' mine's a long, cool beer.
Ah, Bill, you stick to that soft stuff;
Chuck booze, an' you'll be right enough.

Well, 'ere's a go!...My oath, that's goo!
Bets beer I've 'ad to-day....
Yes, Bill, I 'olds no soldier should
Drink all 'is brains away.
I'm patriotic, that I am;
To fight on beer ain't worth a damn.

Now, Bill, look 'ere, you take my tip

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Squash in Blossom

How lush, how loose, the uninhibited squash is.
If ever hearts (and these immoderate leaves
Are vegetable hearts) were worn on sleeves,
The squash's are. In green the squash vine gushes.

The flowers are cornucopias of summer,
Briefly exuberant and cheaply golden.
And if they make a show of being hidden,
Are open promiscuously to every comer.

Let the squash be what it was doomed to be
By the old Gardener with the shrewd green thumb.
Let it expand and sprawl, defenceless, dumb.
But let me be the fiber-disciplined tree

Whose leaf (with something to say in wind) is small,
Reduced to the ingenuity of a green splinter
Sharp to defy or fraternize with winter,
Or if not that, prepared in fall to fall.

poem by Robert Francis
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Tiptoes

Waking up again another sleepless night
Climbing taller buildings more dreams of flight
In a pool of sweat not knowing what to do
No more earth-bound feelings a diffrent point of view
Moment of truth he heads towards the building
His glazed eyes stare vacantly following his feelings
No turning back the doors already shutting
Standing on his tiptoes to reach the nineteenth button
To miss a grasping hand
(Im falling again)
And squash a passer-by
(Im falling again)
He wanted to see some evidence
(Im falling again)
That he could really fly
Balanced on the edge only time could tell
Some say he was pushed, others say he fell
Standing on that rooftop his brain told him no
But all the dreams in nights before told him he must go
To miss a grasping hand
(Im falling again)
And squash a passer-by
(Im falling again)
He wanted to see some evidence
(Im falling again)
That he could really fly
His questions and himself
Nearly fell on stony ground
He couldve embarrassed his family
Who watched him from the crowd
Balanced on the edge only time could tell
Some say he was pushed, others say he fell
To miss a grasping hand
(Im falling again)
And squash a passer-by
(Im falling again)
He wanted to see some evidence
(Im falling again)
That he could really fly
(Im falling ...)

song performed by Madness
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I do not agree with the extremists of either the left or the right, but I think they should be allowed to speak and to publish, both because they themselves have, and ought to have, rights, and once their rights are gone, the rights of the rest of us are hardly safe. Extremists typically want to squash not only those who disagree with them diametrically, but those who disagree with them at all. It seems to me that in every country where extremists of the left have gotten sufficiently in the saddle to squash the extremists of the right, they have ridden on to squash the center or terrorize it also. And the same goes for extremists of the right. I do not want that to happen in our country.

quote by Jane Jacobs
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Part III

Now, as the elder lights the fresh cigar
Conducive to resource, and saunteringly
Betakes him to the left-hand backward path,—
While, much sedate, the younger strides away
To right and makes for—islanded in lawn
And edged with shrubbery—the brilliant bit
Of Barry's building that's the Place,—a pair
Of women, at this nick of time, one young,
One very young, are ushered with due pomp
Into the same Inn-parlour—"disengaged
Entirely now!" the obsequious landlord smiles,
"Since the late occupants—whereof but one
Was quite a stranger!"—(smile enforced by bow)
"Left, a full two hours since, to catch the train,
Probably for the stranger's sake!" (Bow, smile,
And backing out from door soft closed behind.)

Woman and girl, the two, alone inside,
Begin their talk: the girl, with sparkling eyes—
"Oh, I forewent him purposely! but you,
Who joined at—journeyed from the Junction here—
I wonder how he failed your notice. Few
Stop at our station: fellow-passengers
Assuredly you were—I saw indeed
His servant, therefore he arrived all right.
I wanted, you know why, to have you safe
Inside here first of all, so dodged about
The dark end of the platform; that's his way—
To swing from station straight to avenue
And stride the half a mile for exercise.
I fancied you might notice the huge boy.
He soon gets o'er the distance; at the house
He'll hear I went to meet him and have missed;
He'll wait. No minute of the hour's too much
Meantime for our preliminary talk:
First word of which must be—O good beyond
Expression of all goodness—you to come!"

The elder, the superb one, answers slow.

"There was no helping that. You called for me,
Cried, rather: and my old heart answered you.
Still, thank me! since the effort breaks a vow—
At least, a promise to myself."

"I know!
How selfish get you happy folks to be!
If I should love my husband, must I needs
Sacrifice straightway all the world to him,
As you do? Must I never dare leave house

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Inn Album (1875)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Exercise It

Exercise the will to succeed
The will can successfully enjoy itself.

Exercise the mind to proceed
The brain has much in procedure.

Exercise the body and to bleed
Inside the layers of itself.

Exercise again and again, indeed
To enliven the soul for its task.

poem by Naveed Akram
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What's Philli's Ph or who the F of Philli is -?

Baby bee n times I can be a rapper
Can't help sometimes gotta go flapper
Sorry for spelli too mini a skirt
Too mini a brain too tight a shirt
These Angle turmoils your lg spoil
No worry honey it's just an angle
Of a circle lol or a triangle
Can't take it baby, not any more
He's gotta go out, out of your door
It'll pass or fail at the first test
When Philli fills in all the rest

Hello Philli hip hip hurray
I've come today to make my day
Shall we take it outside if it hurts your pride
Fill in the blanks exercise 1
Say who has lost and who has won
Fill in the blanks exercise 2
There's no fool unless I sing about you
Fill in the blanks exercise 3
Say who got A and who got C
Teach teeth to stammer
Teach steps to speed
Who brought your hammer
Say what's your creed

Say Philli nilly-willy
Who's that rotten in this Denmark vice
U r a secret gadget powerful device
Kneel down Philli before definitions
These are just last extinct ignitions
Of academic dames going nuts with buts
Academic sirs in pro and con huts
You wanna know you wanna know
The Wh- of the last glow

And you oh reader surely don know
What Ph Phili or who the F of Philli is
Lol fill in the blanks exercise 1
Or be patient please as Phili is
A person persona empty non grata
Rising on different social strata

Hello Philli hip hip hurray
What's gonna happen if u come my way?

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Teddy Bear

A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
The energy to clamber back.

Now tubbiness is just the thing
Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: "If only I were thin!
But how does anyone begin?"
He thought: "It really isn't fair
To grudge one exercise and air."

For many weeks he pressed in vain
His nose against the window-pane,
And envied those who walked about
Reducing their unwanted stout.
None of the people he could see
"Is quite" (he said) "as fat as me!"
Then, with a still more moving sigh,
"I mean" (he said) "as fat as I!

One night it happened that he took
A peep at an old picture-book,
Wherein he came across by chance
The picture of a King of France
(A stoutish man) and, down below,
These words: "King Louis So and So,
Nicknamed 'The Handsome!'" There he sat,
And (think of it!) the man was fat!

Our bear rejoiced like anything
To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed "The Handsome." There he sat,
And certainly the man was fat.
Nicknamed "The Handsome." Not a doubt
The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
Might yet be named "The Handsome Cub!"

"Might yet be named." Or did he mean
That years ago he "might have been"?
For now he felt a slight misgiving:
"Is Louis So and So still living?
Fashions in beauty have a way

[...] Read more

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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The Dunciad: Book II.

High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shone
Henley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,
Or that where on her Curlls the public pours,
All-bounteous, fragrant grains and golden showers,
Great Cibber sate: the proud Parnassian sneer,
The conscious simper, and the jealous leer,
Mix on his look: all eyes direct their rays
On him, and crowds turn coxcombs as they gaze.
His peers shine round him with reflected grace,
New edge their dulness, and new bronze their face.
So from the sun's broad beam, in shallow urns
Heaven's twinkling sparks draw light, and point their horns.

Not with more glee, by hands Pontific crown'd,
With scarlet hats wide-waving circled round,
Rome in her Capitol saw Querno sit,
Throned on seven hills, the Antichrist of wit.

And now the queen, to glad her sons, proclaims
By herald hawkers, high heroic games.
They summon all her race: an endless band
Pours forth, and leaves unpeopled half the land.
A motley mixture! in long wigs, in bags,
In silks, in crapes, in garters, and in rags,
From drawing-rooms, from colleges, from garrets,
On horse, on foot, in hacks, and gilded chariots:
All who true dunces in her cause appear'd,
And all who knew those dunces to reward.

Amid that area wide they took their stand,
Where the tall maypole once o'er-looked the Strand,
But now (so Anne and piety ordain)
A church collects the saints of Drury Lane.

With authors, stationers obey'd the call,
(The field of glory is a field for all).
Glory and gain the industrious tribe provoke;
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
A poet's form she placed before their eyes,
And bade the nimblest racer seize the prize;
No meagre, muse-rid mope, adust and thin,
In a dun night-gown of his own loose skin;
But such a bulk as no twelve bards could raise,
Twelve starveling bards of these degenerate days.
All as a partridge plump, full-fed, and fair,
She form'd this image of well-bodied air;
With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head;
A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead;
And empty words she gave, and sounding strain,
But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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Step On You

You're in my way
You crossed my line
You're in my face
You're on my case, you really waste my time.
Don't like your style
Don't like your sound
You talk too much
You got no touch, you drive it in the ground
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
Don't like your smile
Don't like your clothes
Don't like your hair
And I don't care about your ruby pierced nose
You push too far
You talk too loud
You stay too long
You're in my song but you ain't in my crowd
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
You ruin my day and you're wrecking my night
I'm biting my lips because I'm ready to fight
I'm gonna sharpen my spikes
I'm gonna strap on my boots
I'm gonna squash you on sight
I'm gonna step on you
Step-step-step-step
You ruin my day and you're wrecking my night
I'm biting my lips because I'm ready to fight
I'm gonna sharpen my spikes
I'm gonna strap on my boots
I'm gonna squash you on sight
Don't leave no message on my telephone
Cut right through the bull, right to the bone
The snow in your nose and the crack in your brain
It used to be cool, now it's just insane
I'm gonna step on you
Step-I'm gonna step on you-step
Step

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Knives Out

I want you to know
Hes not coming back
Look into my eyes
Im not coming back
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Dont look down
Shove it in your mouth
If youd been a dog
They wouldve drowned you at birth
Look into my eyes
Its the only way youll know Im telling the truth
So knives out
Cook him up
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
I want you to know
Hes not coming back
Hes bloated and frozen
Still theres no point in letting it go to waste
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Squash his head
Put him in the pot

song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Movement Vi - Work

(mary dees office)
Womens chorus (office staff)
Working women at the top,
Will it ever stop?
Papers piling up and up.
Days go by like monday, tuesday:
Work until we drop!
All the time looking great,
Running late,
In a state, losing weight,
Running late again
And again.
Mary dee
Let me have the letter that you typed up yesterday.
Did mr. fisher send the fax to la?
Make sure the flowers dont arrive too late
And cancel my appointment at the squash club.
Womens chorus
What club?
Mary dee
Squash club.
Womens chorus
Working women on the go,
Will they ever know
What it takes to run the show?
Days go by like lightning,
Will it ever slow?
Half the time feeling dead,
Over-fed,
Aching head,
Miss my bed.
Over-fed again and again.
Mary dee
Did they ever pick up the accountants resume?
Make sure the car arrives in time for the plane.
Get me the details of the takeover bid
And write another letter to the minister.
Womens chorus
Minister?
Mary dee
The minister of love.
Womens chorus
Love.
(la)
Mary dee
Wheres the time for standing still?
Womens chorus
Holding hands and walking free.
Mary dee
Wheres the time for you...

[...] Read more

song performed by Paul McCartney
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The Baldness Of Chewed-Ear

When Chewed-ear Jenkins got hitched up to Guinneyveer McGee,
His flowin' locks, ye recollect, wuz frivolous an' free;
But in old Hymen's jack-pot, it's a most amazin' thing,
Them flowin' locks jest disappeared like snow-balls in the Spring;
Jest seemed to wilt an' fade away like dead leaves in the Fall,
An' left old Chewed-ear balder than a white-washed cannon ball.

Now Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins, that wuz Guinneyveer McGee,
Wuz jest about as fine a draw as ever made a pair;
But when the boys got joshin' an' suggested it was she
That must be inflooenshul for the old man's slump in hair --
Why! Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins jest went clean up in the air.

"To demonstrate," sez she that night, "the lovin' wife I am,
I've bought a dozen bottles of Bink's Anty-Dandruff Balm.
'Twill make yer hair jest sprout an' curl like squash-vines in the sun,
An' I'm propose to sling it on till every drop is done."
That hit old Chewed-ear's funny side, so he lays back an' hollers:
"The day you raise a hair, old girl, you'll git a thousand dollars."

Now, whether 'twas the prize or not 'tis mighty hard to say,
But Chewed-ear didn't seem to have much comfort from that day.
With bottles of that dandruff dope she followed at his heels,
An' sprinkled an' massaged him even when he ate his meals.
She waked him from his beauty sleep with tender, lovin' care,
An' rubbed an' scrubbed assiduous, yet never sign of hair.

Well, naturally all the boys soon tumbled to the joke,
An' at the Wow-wow's Social 'twas Cold-deck Davis spoke:
"The little woman's working mighty hard on Chewed-ear's crown;
Let's give her for a three-fifth's share a hundred dollars down.
We stand to make five hundred clear -- boys, drink in whiskey straight:
`The Chewed-ear Jenkins Hirsute Propagation Syndicate'."

The boys wuz on, an' soon chipped in the necessary dust;
They primed up a committy to negotiate the deal;
Then Missis Jenkins yielded, bein' rather in disgust,
An' all wuz signed an' witnessed, an' invested with a seal.
They rounded up old Chewed-ear, an' they broke it what they'd done;
Allowed they'd bought an interest in his chance of raisin' hair;
They yanked his hat off anxiouslike, opinin' one by one
Their magnifyin' glasses showed fine prospects everywhere.
They bought Hairlene, an' Thatchem, an' Jay's Capillery Juice,
An' Seven Something Sisters, an' Macassar an' Bay Rum,
An' everyone insisted on his speshul right to sluice
His speshul line of lotion onto Chewed-ear's cranium.
They only got the merrier the more the old man roared,
An' shares in "Jenkins Hirsute" went sky-highin' on the board.

The Syndicate wuz hopeful that they'd demonstrate the pay,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert William Service
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You can't get rid of it with exercise alone. You can do the most vigorous exercise and only burn up 300 calories in an hour. If you've got fat on your body, the exercise firms and tones the muscles. But when you use that tape measure, what makes it bigger? It's the fat!

quote by Jack LaLanne
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Castle Of Indolence

The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.

O mortal man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate;
That like an emmet thou must ever moil,
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date:
And, certes, there is for it reason great;
For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curse thy star, and early drudge and late;
Withouten that would come a heavier bale,
Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.
In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompass'd round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,
Than whom a fiend more fell is no where found.
It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground;
And there a season atween June and May,
Half prankt with spring, with summer half imbrown'd,
A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,
No living wight could work, ne cared even for play.
Was nought around but images of rest:
Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between;
And flowery beds that slumbrous influence kest,
From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant green,
Where never yet was creeping creature seen.
Meantime, unnumber'd glittering streamlets play'd,
And hurled every where their waters sheen;
That, as they bicker'd through the sunny glade,
Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made.
Join'd to the prattle of the purling rills
Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,
And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,
And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:
And, now and then, sweet Philomel would wail,
Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;
Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.
Full in the passage of the vale, above,
A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;
Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move,
As Idless fancied in her dreaming mood:
And up the hills, on either side, a wood
Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;
And where this valley winded out, below,
The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.

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poem by James Thomson
Added by Poetry Lover
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Dont Cry Freedom

How long before we see we have broken those chains,
.(? )...just like the bird that sings it in the dream baby we are born free,
Oh now, I want you to know now we are in charge of our own destiny,
Freedom is only but a state of mind, youve got to leave them shackles behind.
Dont you cry freedom, exercise your freedom,
Dont cry freedom, exercise your freedom,
Dont cry freedom, its a state of mind,
Oh..ooooh..cry..dont cry, dont cry...well well, well.
Freedom is only but a state of mind, youve got to leave them shackles behind.
Yeah, yeah,
Some of us get to dance on a dream,
Every day we pray to that which we cannot see,
Why is it so, so difficult to love that which we see?
Love for you and me.
Tell me now, do you like what you see?
Are those images forced upon us, reflections of you and me,
Dont you let them play upon your mind, youve got to leave them shackles behind.
.(? ).i want you to know that, we are each other our own destiny,
Just like the bird that sings within the dreams, baby you are born free,
Oh yeah, every night oh now,
Dont you cry freedom, freedom, dont cry, dont cry oh now, freedom,
Dont you cry freedom, exercise your freedom its a state of.., dont cry freedom,
Just like the bird that sings within the dream baby you are born free.

song performed by Grace Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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