The Last Airbender
Cast: Jackson Rathbone, Cliff Curtis, Dev Patel, Nicola Peltz, Seychelle Gabriel, Noah Ringer, Shaun Toub, Jessica Andres
trailer for The Last Airbender, directed by M. Night Shyamalan (2010)
Added by Alexandru Uvra
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Jessica
When you walked into the room looking like jean harlow
Oh jessie, everyone looked at you, youre a lady
Though I know that youve been around the world
Maybe two or three times in your daddys pocket
Im gonna break that rich-bitch thing with you
Oh, jessica, youre a lady
If it takes all night youre gonna be nice
Oh, jessica, I think lady
That cold, hard front could melt like ice
Jessica, jessica, jessica, jessica
Cold like a killers eyes
Stay with me jessica
Youre a lady of the world, youve been to paris and london
But jessie, it doesnt mean a thing to you when youre lonely
Though youd have to have a heart of stone
To put me on my knees
I know you aint got it
Im gonna get to you no matter what you do
Oh, jessica, youre a lady
If it takes all night youre gonna be nice
Oh, jessica, I think lady
That cold, hard front could melt like ice
Jessica, jessica,
Jessica, jessica
Cold like a killers eyes
Stay with me jessica
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, jessica, oh
Jessica, youre a lady
Take me home in your big black car
Oh jessica, I think lady
Youre not as hard as they think you are
Jessica, jessica, jessica, jessica
Fire up your cold heart
And stay with me, jessica
Stay with me, jessica
Stay with me, jessica
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, jessica
song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks
1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,
That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass
Under the old trees with rosy fruit.
In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a
basket,
The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.
Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.
Fayne snatched for it and missed;
Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small
Finely cut features in a dance of delight;
Fayne with one sweep flung at his face
All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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All This Is That
I am that, thou art that, and all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
This is that
Oooo
Daybreak and I take a glide
Into the pool of peace inside
(two waves travel by)
To waves and I both travel by
(and that makes all the difference to me)
Life supporting waves of bliss
Mother divines precious kiss
Brings with love the light of wisdom
And the gift of eternal freedom
To waves and I both travel by
(... and the nature of man...)
And that makes all the difference to me
(krishna...)
All this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
This is that
This is that
Dusk time the shadows fall
Into the timeless time of all
To waves and I both travel by
Golden auras glow around you
Omnipresent love surrounds you
Wisdom warming as the sun
You and I are truly one
To waves and I both travel by
And that makes all the difference to me
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
I am that, thou art that, all this is that
Jai guru dev
(I am that, thou art that, all this is that)
Jai
(I am that, thou art that, all this is that)
Jai guru dev
(I am that, thou art that, all this is that)
Jai
(I am that, thou art that, all this is that)
(jai guru dev)
(jai guru dev)
(jai guru dev)
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,--
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre.
Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.
PART THE FIRST
I
In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Jessica
He used to walk with jessica
Down to the diner
Theyd sit and talk for hours
About nothin in particular
Just bullshit the time away
Thats what she used to say
Shed wrinkle her nose when she said it
Thats how you know she meant it
Jessica
Jessica
Shed call him at nine a.m.
To see how sleep had been treatin him
And though they were never lovers
They were soulmates under cover
Theyd drink beer and sit around
Or just sit still and not make a sound
And he would shudder to think
Of what life would be like
Without his best friend -slash- shrink
Jessica
Bridge:
Shes an angel at his table
Forced to feel but not to see
Blinded by her absence
Haunted by her memory
If only you were able to see the angel at your table
He got a phone call
From her mother
He said, yeah, right stop kidding around.
He felt his heart fall to the ground
Since then everyday
Seems to feel like winter
Everything is colorless
As he cant see it with her
Jessica
Jessica
He could easily have been with her
Driving home in the car
It was her birthday
Its sick how things work out that way
Now at night when he sleeps
A watch over him she keeps
She whispers in his ear
For his heart to hear
Jessica
Jessica
Its amazing how a soul can leave
Suddenly from a body
Rendering it useless
And stealing its desire to breathe
[...] Read more
song performed by Jewel
Added by Lucian Velea
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Three Ha'Pence a Foot
I'll tell you an old-fashioned story
That Grandfather used to relate,
Of a joiner and building contractor;
'Is name, it were Sam Oglethwaite.
In a shop on the banks of the Irwell,
Old Sam used to follow 'is trade,
In a place you'll have 'eard of, called Bury;
You know, where black puddings is made.
One day, Sam were filling a knot 'ole
Wi' putty, when in thro' the door
Came an old feller fair wreathed wi' whiskers;
T'ould chap said 'Good morning, I'm Noah.'
Sam asked Noah what was 'is business,
And t'ould chap went on to remark,
That not liking the look of the weather,
'E were thinking of building an Ark.
'E'd gotten the wood for the bulwarks,
And all t'other shipbuilding junk,
And wanted some nice Bird's Eye Maple
To panel the side of 'is bunk.
Now Maple were Sam's Monopoly;
That means it were all 'is to cut,
And nobody else 'adn't got none;
So 'e asked Noah three ha'pence a foot.
'A ha'penny too much,' replied Noah
'A Penny a foot's more the mark;
A penny a foot, and when t'rain comes,
I'll give you a ride in me Ark.'
But neither would budge in the bargain;
The whole daft thing were kind of a jam,
So Sam put 'is tongue out at Noah,
And Noah made 'Long Bacon ' at Sam
In wrath and ill-feeling they parted,
Not knowing when they'd meet again,
And Sam had forgot all about it,
'Til one day it started to rain.
It rained and it rained for a fortni't,
And flooded the 'ole countryside.
It rained and it kept' on raining,
'Til the Irwell were fifty mile wide.
The 'ouses were soon under water,
[...] Read more
poem by Marriott Edgar
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Dead Ringer For Love (feat. Meat Loaf)
Meat Loaf feat. Cher - Dead Ringer For Love
Meatloaf: Every night I grab some money and I go down to the bar
I got my buddies and a beer, I got a dream, I need a car
You got me begging on my knees, c'mon and throw the dog a bone
A man he doesn't live by rock 'n roll and brew alone
Baby baby, baby baby
Rock 'n roll and brew, rock 'n roll and brew
They don't mean a thing when I compare 'em next to you
Rock 'n roll and brew, rock 'n roll and brew
I know that you and I we got better things to do
I don't know who you are or what you do, or where you go when you're not around
I don't know anything about you baby, but you're everything I'm dreaming of
I don't know who you are, but you're a real dead ringer for love
A real dead ringer for love
Cher: Ever since I can remember you been hanging 'round this joint
You been trying to look away but now you finally got the point
I don't have to know your name and I won't tell you what to do
But a girl she doesn't live by only rock 'n roll and brew
Baby baby, baby baby
Cher and Meatloaf: Rock 'n roll and brew, rock 'n roll and brew
They don't mean a thing when I compare 'em next to you
Rock 'n roll and brew, rock 'n roll and brew
I know that you and I we got better things to do
I don't know who you are or what you do, or where you go when you're not around
I don't know anything about you baby, but you're everything I'm dreaming of
I don't know who you are, but you're a real dead ringer for love
A real dead ringer for love
Meatloaf: Ooh you got the kind of legs that do more than walk
Cher: I don't have to listen to your whimpering talk
Meatloaf: Listen you got the kind of eyes that do more than see
Cher: You got a lotta nerve to come on to me
Meatloaf: You got the kind of lips that do more than drink
Cher:You got the kind of mind that does less than think
But since I'm feeling kinda lonely and my defenses are low
Why don't we give it a shot and get it ready to go
I'm looking for anonymous and fleeting satisfaction
I want to tell my daddy I'll be missing in action
Ever since I can remember I've been hanging 'round this joint
My daddy never noticed, now he'll finally get the point
Meatloaf: You got me beggin' on my knees, c'mon and throw the dog a bone
A man he doesn't live by rock 'n roll and brew alone
Baby baby, baby, baby
Cher and Meatloaf: Rock 'n roll and brew, rock 'n roll and brew
I know that you and I we got better things to do
Rock 'n roll and brew, rock 'n roll and brew
They don?t mean a thing when I compare ?em next to you
I don't know who you are or what you do, or where you go when you're not around
I don't know anything about you baby, but you're everything I'm dreaming of
I don't know who you are, but you're a real dead ringer for love
A real dead ringer for love
[...] Read more
song performed by Cher
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Curtis Loew
(allen collins - ronnie vanzant)
Well I used to wake the morning before the rooster crowed
Searching for soda bottles to get myself some dough
Brought em down to the corner, down to the country store
Cash em in and give my money to a man named curtis loew
Old curt was a black man with white curly hair
When he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care
He used to own an old dobro, used to play it across his knee
Id give old curt my money, hed play all day for me
(chorus)
Play me a song curtis loew, curtis loew
I got your drinking money, tune up your dobro
People said he was useless, them people are the fools
cause curtis loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues
He looked to be sixty, and maybe I was ten
Mama used to whip me but Id go see him again
Id clap my hands, stomp my feets, try to stay in time
Hed play me a song or two
Then take another drink of wine.
Chorus
Yes sir
On the day old curtis died, nobody came to pray
Ol preacher said some words, and they chunked him in the clay
But he lived a lifetime playin the black mans blues
And on the day he lost his life, thats all he had to lose
Play me a song curtis loew, hey curtis loew
I wish that you was here so everyone would know
People said he was useless, them people all are fools
cause curtis youre the finest picker to ever play the blues
song performed by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Added by Lucian Velea
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Romance Never Dies
a boy and girl walking home from school one day.
girl-so what are we doing tonight
boy-i dont know want to watch a movie
girl-sure what are we going to watch?
boy-not sure yet ill think of something
girl-lets watch a romance.
boy-nooo thats boyfriend girlfriend junk.
gurl-(sighs) but umm well...
boy- what? whats rong.
girl-i was just hoping.
boy-what? (confused)
walks to front door
boy-umm oook well ill see you later.
girl- yeah' right cya (frowns) as she walks away
girl goes over boys house and rings the doorbell boy answers
boy-Wow You look GREAT' thought we where just watching a movie.
girl-we are i just thought i would dress up a little.
boy-lol what ever
boy and girl sits on couch.
girl- soo what are we going to watch-gets closer.
boy-idk-backs up.
girl and boy start watching a horror flick
girl-hides face in boys chest.
boy-(smiles) kisses girls head.
girl-smiles back.
girl and boy look into eachers eyes.
boy-moves closer
girl-moves closer
boy and girl start kissing
Boy-i have loved you for so long im glad were togeather.
Girl-i loved you to i mean i love you so much does this mean were dating
Boy-yes and im glad im dating you.
A yr later still dating boy girl get into a fight
Girl-i have to go im sorry please just understand we cant see eacher anymore
Boy-please tell me why did i do something rong?
Girl- no no please just let it be where it is im sorry i love you bye
week after that night
Boy goes over girls house theres a moving truck.
Boy walks up...girl carrying boxes
Boy-why cant we see eacher anymore and whats going on with the trucks
Girl-im moving.
Boy-i noticed
Boy- where you moving to
Girl-Florida ill call you when i get there and settled
Girl- im sorry I have to go (starts to sob/cry)
Guy just stands there and watches girl leave. as a tear rolls down his cheek
3 years later.
Girl in collage now.and has moved on with her life
[...] Read more
poem by Lynn samantha
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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Ballad Of Curtis Loew
Ballad of Curtis Loew (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
Well I used to wake the morning before the rooster crowed.
Searchin for soda bottles to get myself some dough.
Brought them down to the corner, down to the country store.
Cash em in and give my money to a man named Curtis Loew.
Old Curt was a black man with white curly hair.
When he had a fifth of wine he did not have a care.
He used to own an old Dobro, used to play it across his knee.
I'd give old Curt my money he'd play all day for me.
Chorus: Play me a song Curtis Loew, Curtis Loew.
Well I got your drinkin money tune up your Dobro.
People said he was useless, but them people all were fools.
Cause Curtis Loew was the finest picker to ever play the blues.
He looked to be 60 and maybe I was 10.
Momma used to whoop me, but I'd go see him again.
I'd clap my hands, stomp my feets, try to stay in time.
He'd play a song or two then take another drink of wine.
Chorus:
Lead: (verse and chorus background).
On the day old Curtis died, nobody came to pray.
Old preacher said some words, and they chucked him in the clay.
Well he lived a lifetime of playing the black man's blues.
And on the day he lost his life, well that's all he had to lose.
Chorus
song performed by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paradise Lost: Book 04
O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be revenged on men,
Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now,
While time was, our first parents had been warned
The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped,
Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare: For now
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down,
The tempter ere the accuser of mankind,
To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell:
Yet, not rejoicing in his speed, though bold
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,
Begins his dire attempt; which nigh the birth
Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast,
And like a devilish engine back recoils
Upon himself; horrour and doubt distract
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir
The Hell within him; for within him Hell
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
One step, no more than from himself, can fly
By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair,
That slumbered; wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad;
Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun,
Which now sat high in his meridian tower:
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began.
O thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Lookest from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
Of Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down
Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King:
Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright eminence, and with his good
Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
What could be less than to afford him praise,
The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good proved ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
I sdeined subjection, and thought one step higher
[...] Read more
poem by John Milton
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It's Five O'clock Somewhere
The sun is hot and that old clock is movin' slow,
An' so am I.
Work day passes like molasses in wintertime,
But it's July.
I'm gettin' paid by the hour, an' older by the minute.
My boss just pushed me over the limit.
I'd like to call him somethin',
I think I'll just call it a day.
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon,
An' half the night.
Tomorrow mornin', I know there'll be hell to pay,
Hey, but that's all right.
I ain't had a day off now in over a year.
Our Jamaican vacation's gonna start right here.
if the 'phones for me,
You can tell 'em I just sailed away.
An' pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
I could pay off my tab, pour myself in a cab,
An' be back to work before two.
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder,
What would Jimmy Buffett do?
JIMMY BUFFETT:
Funny you should ask Alan,
I'd say:
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
ALAN JACKSON & JIMMY BUFFETT:
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
He don't care.
I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
What time zone am I on? What country am I in?
ALAN JACKSON:
It doesn't matter, it's five o'clock somewhere.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
It's always on five in Margaritaville, come to think of it.
ALAN JACKSON:
Yeah, I heard that.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
[...] Read more
song performed by Alan Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jackson Cage
Driving home she grabs something to eat
Turns a corner and drives down her street
Into a row of houses she just melts away
Like the scenery in another mans play
Into a house where the blinds are closed
To keep from seeing things she dont wanna know
She pulls the blinds and looks out on the street
The cool of the night takes the edge off the heat
In the jackson cage
Down in jackson cage
You can try with all your might
But youre reminded every night
That you been judged and handed life
Down in jackson cage
Every day ends in wasted motion
Just crossed swords on the killing floor
To settle back is to settle without knowing
The hard edge that youre settling for
Because theres always just one more day
And its always gonna be that way
Little girl youve been down here so long
I can tell by the way that you move you belong to
The jackson cage
Down in jackson cage
And it dont matter just what you say
Are you tough enough to play the game they play
Or will you just do your time and fade away
Down into the jackson cage
Baby theres nights when I dream of a better world
But I wake up so downhearted girl
I see you feeling so tired and confused
I wonder what its worth to me or you
Just waiting to see some sun
Never knowing if that day will ever come
Left alone standing out on the street
Till you become the hand that turns the key down in
Jackson cage
Down in jackson cage
Well darlin can you understand
The way that they will turn a man
Into a stranger to waste away
Down in the jackson cage
song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Slow Down Jackson
(michel brourman/karen gottlieb)
Hmmm...i love to see you when you arent on the run
Looking long and lean and lazy lying in the sun
So, slow down jackson, you dont have to fly anymore
Slow down jackson, love must have left you at my door
Hmmm...youre a runner and you always will be
Maybe you can change your pacin when you are runnin with me
So, slow down jackson, you dont have to fly anymore
Slow down jackson, love must have left you at my door
Hmmm...youre like a rainbow stretched across the sun
Hmmm...my friend jackson, warming everyone
So, slow down jackson, you dont have to fly anymore
Slow down jackson, love must have left you at my door
So, slow down jackson, you were flying solo before
Slow down jackson, love must have left you at my door
song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Frostbitten Finger
Frostbitten finger beckons to frown future's clown
while old ways linger.
Is freedom ginger beer froth support for one’s own
survival’s binger,
or doppelganger phantom intellectual gown
mortal mask danger or moral ask anger?
Time's trial stinger faults thought lines, trigger meltdown.
Life's strife is cliff clinger,
for poor puppet stringer's cold feet answers. Fate' frozen crown
Frostbite quiets siren song singer
seeking fools’ gold - pyrites otherwise known
as strict dead-ringer
icing out cold gold bell ringer's frostbite finger.
Frostbitten Fingers
Frostbitten fingers
beckon to frown future's clown
while old ways linger
is freedom ginger
beer froth support for one's own
survival's binger
or doppelganger
phantom intellectual gown
mor[t]al mask anger
siren song singer
or fools' gold pyrites known
as strict dead-ringer
Time's trial stinger
faults thought lines, trigger meltdown.
Life's strife cliff clinger,
poor puppet stringer
seeks answers - destiny's crown?
free-will bell ringer?
(13 January 1993 revised 29 March 2009 and 15 February 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The 'Ole in the Ark
One evening at dusk as Noah stood on his Ark,
Putting green oil in starboard side lamp,
His wife came along and said, 'Noah, summat's wrong,
Our cabin is getting quite damp.
Noah said, 'Is that so?' Then he went down below,
And found it were right what she'd said,
For there on the floor quite a puddle he saw,
It was slopping around under t' bed.
Said he, 'There's an 'ole in the bottom somewhere,
We must find it before we retire.'
Then he thowt for a bit, and he said 'Aye, that's it,
A bloodhound is what we require.'
Se he went and fetched bloodhound from place where it lay,
'Tween the skunk and the polecat it were,
And as things there below, were a trifle so-so,
It were glad of a breath of fresh air.
They followed the hound as it went sniffing round,
'Til at last they located the leak,
'Twere a small hole in the side, about two inches wide,
Where a swordfish had poked in its beak.
And by gum! how the wet squirted in through that hole,
Well, young Shem who at sums was expert,
Worked it out on his slate that it came at the rate,
Of per gallon, per second, per squirt.
The bloodhound tried hard to keep water in check,
By lapping it up with his tongue,
But it came in so fast through that hole, that at last,
He shoved in his nose for a bung.
The poor faithful hound, he were very near drowned,
They dragged him away none too soon,
For the stream as it rose, pushed its way up his nose,
And blew him up like a balloon.
And then Mrs Noah shoved her elbow in t'hole,
And said,' Eh! it's stopped I believe,'
But they found very soon as she'd altered her tune,
For the water had got up her sleeve.
When she saw as her elbow weren't doing much good,
She said to Noah, 'I've an idea,
You sit on the leak and by t'end of the week,
There's no knowing, the weather may clear.'
[...] Read more
poem by Marriott Edgar
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Delia
Delia was a gambling girl, gambled all around,
Delia was a gambling girl, she laid her money down.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Delias dear ol mother took a trip out west,
When she returned, little delia gone to rest.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Delias daddy weeped, delias momma moaned,
Wouldnt have been so bad if the poor girl died at home.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Curtis looking high, curtis looking low,
He shot poor delia down with a cruel forty-four.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
High up on the housetops, high as I can see,
Looking for them rounders, looking out for me.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Men in atlanta, tryin to pass for white,
Delias in the graveyard, boys, six feet out of sight.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Judge says to curtis, whats this noise about?
All about them rounders, judge, tryin to cut me out.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Curtis said to the judge, what might be my fine?
Judge says, poor boy, you got ninety-nine.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Curtis in the jail house, drinking from an old tin cup,
Delias in the graveyard, she aint gettin up.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Delia, oh delia, how can it be?
You loved all them rounders, never did love me.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
Delia, oh delia, how can it be?
You wanted all them rounders, never had time for me.
All the friends I ever had are gone.
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Negro Heroines
Down in history we find it and in grandest works of art,
How the men on fields of battle play so well the soldier's part,
But I come to tell the story of relief from care and pain
Rendered them by Negro women in the Cuban War with Spain.
When the scourge of yellow fever fell upon the boys in blue.
And the nation stood in wonder scarcely knowing what to do,
There was found a Negro woman, Mrs. Curtis was her name,
Wife, she was, of a physician with the highest social fame.
When the name of Mrs. Curtis fell upon the nation's ear
And her worth on such occasions had been shown in language clear,
She was summoned by McKinley to the White House—there to plan
How to change the dread condition; how to stay the soldier's ban.
By him there she was commissioned, given fullest oversight
Of relieving fever-stricken in the famous Cuban fight;
With a confidence unfailing, she her preparations made—
Uncle Sam his backing promised true success could not be stayed.
When a call she made for helpers, from the nation's busy throng,
The response from Negro nurses came three hundred eighty strong,
In the Catholics were also, found one hundred twenty nuns,
Who would brave the field as nurses for the fever-stricken ones.
In this noble work of mercy were their duties done so well
That a halo of enchantment round them all is made to dwell,
When we search the war department no complaint of them is found,
Not a word to their discredit and to truth that record's bound.
While upon the field of battle helping stem the fever's tide,
While upon that angel mission seven Negro nurses died,
In this work the nuns had fallen till the same had numbered four;
Thus on snowy, angel pinions they the news to heaven bore.
When our boys had thrashed the Spaniards, Mrs. Curtis straightway sent
A petition into congress praying that a monument
Be at Arlington erected out of sacred memory
Of the nurses who in Cuba died to make the island free.
Mrs. Curtis went in person, she in congress did appear,
Told the story of her labors, of her precious deeds of cheer,
She convincingly impressed it in the nation's congress true,
That for those who fell on duty still a monument was due.
An apportionment by congress for the same at once was made,
Yea, to make a fit memorial for the nation's honored dead;
Twenty-five will name the thousands of the dollars that were spent—
In the nation's cemetery stands the nurses' monument.
[...] Read more
poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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