In A Beep Beep Race
When I hear them in the traffic,
Go beep beep.
Horns going on,
With a beep beep.
And I wonder where all the people go..
To scurry with flurry so hurried...
They have to constantly beep beep beep!
When I walk it's in a leisurely pace.
I want to take in every bit of a scene.
And when I walk,
I don't frown my face.
Like those in a hurry in a beep beep race.
When I hear them in the traffic,
Go beep beep.
Horns going on,
With a beep beep.
And I wonder where all the people go..
To scurry with flurry so hurried...
They have to constantly beep beep beep!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Rupeat The Riley
Wholl ride in my rupert the riley
Ride on for mile after miley
Im the bravest driver, sit by my side
Ill drive you so wild if you sit by my side
See how far we travel, take ov the wheel,
Shell drive us to hell if you take ov the wheel
Whoa oh oh whoa, yeah yeah yeah yeah
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Wholl ride in my rupert the riley
Ride on for mile after miley
Like to take a ride, that riley of mine
Shes shakey on her legs that riley of mine
Im the bravest driver, sit by my side
Ill drive you so wild if you sit by my side
Whoa oh oh whoa, yeah yeah yeah yeah
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Toot beep-beep, beep-beep
Wholl ride in my rupert the riley
Ride on for mile after miley
Wholl ride in my rupert the riley
Ride on for mile after miley
Wholl ride in my rupert the riley
Ride on for mile after miley
Wholl ride in my rupert the riley
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete
I.
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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Drive My Car
(LennonMcCartney)
Asked a girl what she wanted to be
She said baby, "Can't you see
I wanna be famous, a star on the screen
But you can do something in between"
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I'm gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I love you
I told a girl that my prospects were good
And she said baby, "It's understood
Working for peanuts is all very fine
But I can show you a better time"
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I'm gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I love you
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I'm gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I love you
I told that girl I can start right away
And she said, "Listen baby I got something to say
I got no car and it's breaking my heart
But I've found a driver and that's a start"
Baby you can drive my car
Yes I'm gonna be a star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I love you
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah
Beep beep'm beep beep yeah (fade out)
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Little Bit Of Love
Yeah
Woo...ooh...ooh...ooh...
You say you want to be the one i need
You say you want to be the one for me
You say you want to be the one i need
But then you go and act so crazy
You say you never want to let me go
You say you want to be the one i hold
You say you never want to let me go
But then you go and leave me lonely
If you want to make things right
Love can make a way
If you want to take the time
Act like what you say, yeah
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely
You want to be the one who makes me shy
The one who makes me laugh and makes me cry
You want to be the one to change my life
Then maybe you should treat me kindly
You want to make believe you never left
You want to make believe i never wept
You said you'd never ever leave again
Oh, baby, won't you quit pretendin'
If you want to make things right
Love can make a way
And if you want to take the time
Act like what you say, yeah
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely, oh
Oh
Oh, if you want to make things right
Love can make a way
And if you want to take the time
Act like what you say, yeah
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
[...] Read more
song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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Little Bit Of Love
Yeah
Woo...ooh...ooh...ooh...
You say you want to be the one I need
You say you want to be the one for me
You say you want to be the one I need
But then you go and act so crazy
You say you never want to let me go
You say you want to be the one I hold
You say you never want to let me go
But then you go and leave me lonely
If you want to make things right
Love can make a way
If you want to take the time
Act like what you say, yeah
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely
You want to be the one who makes me shy
The one who makes me laugh and makes me cry
You want to be the one to change my life
Then maybe you should treat me kindly
You want to make believe you never left
You want to make believe I never wept
You said youd never ever leave again
Oh, baby, wont you quit pretendin
If you want to make things right
Love can make a way
And if you want to take the time
Act like what you say, yeah
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love is lovely, oh
Oh
Oh, if you want to make things right
Love can make a way
And if you want to take the time
Act like what you say, yeah
A little bit of love is all it takes
A little bit of love goes a long, long way
A little bit of love is all it takes
[...] Read more
song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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Race
Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Too Many Fiestas For Reuben
Hes 25, hanging out at the high school
Everyone but the butt-rockers knows that aint cool
Got a teen girlfriend and a little mustache
Hes got ol ac/dc coming out of his dash
Hes got himself a black trans am
Well they build em much smaller over there in japan
Beep, beep, beep on monday
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep on tuesday
Too many fiestas for reuben
Yeah he got drunk and he went cruising
That boy is shot
Two gallons of tequila is what he got
...
Beep, beep, beep on wednesday
Beep, beep, beep on thursday
Beep, beep, beep on friday
Saturday and sunday are his days off
song performed by Modest Mouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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County Fair
This time each year in our hometown
The county fair comes our way
Where the folks gather round to be happy and spend their day
A-heres what happened now,
I soon decide that Id take with me
The most specialest girl I knew
I had her pack us a lunch and on down the dirt road we flew
(hurry hurry, step right up and win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[aw, come on nicky. win me a koala bear]
(break the balloon with a dart)
(yes you son, come up here. win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[oh please win me a koala bear]
(break the balloon with a dart. come on son, step right up)
(get up there, thats a boy)
Right then I knew what I had to do
(hurry, hurry)
Before that day was through
(step right up)
I had to win a stuffed doggie or Id break her poor heart in two
(hurry, hurry)
(win a prize)
A let me tell you now,
I passed up a chance when I walked by a booth
(hurry, hurry)
Where you throw a dart and break a balloon
(step right up)
I snuck by a couple more, but I had to get caught real soon
(hurry, hurry)
(win a prize)
(step right up, test your strength.)
(come on son, ring the bell with the hammer)
[aww, come on muscles]
(win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[ooohhh]
(come on son, are you a man or a weakling? )
(yes you, step up here and test your strength)
(win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[come on baby]
(come on son)
I hit the rubber stump just as hard as I could
(hurry, hurry)
But I didnt make it ring the bell
(step right up)
I tried again and again, but I just didnt do so well
(hurry, hurry)
(win a prize)
Can you believe it now,
Up walked a fella and he tapped me on the shoulder, said
(hurry, hurry)
I can win your girl a prize
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
Cajeta still the place is call’d from thee,
The nurse of great Æneas’ infancy.
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia’s plains; 5
Thy name (’t is all a ghost can have) remains.
Now, when the prince her fun’ral rites had paid,
He plow’d the Tyrrhene seas with sails display’d.
From land a gentle breeze arose by night,
Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, 10
And the sea trembled with her silver light.
Now near the shelves of Circe’s shores they run,
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun,)
A dang’rous coast: the goddess wastes her days
In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays: 15
In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night,
And cedar brands supply her father’s light.
From hence were heard, rebellowing to the main,
The roars of lions that refuse the chain,
The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, 20
And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors’ ears.
These from their caverns, at the close of night,
Fill the sad isle with horror and affright.
Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe’s pow’r,
(That watch’d the moon and planetary hour,) 25
With words and wicked herbs from humankind
Had alter’d, and in brutal shapes confin’d.
Which monsters lest the Trojans’ pious host
Should bear, or touch upon th’ inchanted coast,
Propitious Neptune steer’d their course by night 30
With rising gales that sped their happy flight.
Supplied with these, they skim the sounding shore,
And hear the swelling surges vainly roar.
Now, when the rosy morn began to rise,
And wav’d her saffron streamer thro’ the skies; 35
When Thetis blush’d in purple not her own,
And from her face the breathing winds were blown,
A sudden silence sate upon the sea,
And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way.
The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, 40
Which thick with shades and a brown horror stood:
Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course,
With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force,
That drove the sand along, he took his way,
And roll’d his yellow billows to the sea. 45
About him, and above, and round the wood,
The birds that haunt the borders of his flood,
That bath’d within, or basked upon his side,
To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied.
The captain gives command; the joyful train 50
[...] Read more
poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Vision of Columbus – Book 3
Now, twice twelve years, the children of the skies
Beheld in peace their growing empire rise;
O'er happy realms, display'd their generous care,
Diffused their arts and soothd the rage of war;
Bade yon tall temple grace the favourite isle.
The gardens bloom, the cultured valleys smile,
The aspiring hills their spacious mines unfold.
Fair structures blaze, and altars burn, in gold,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And heave imperial Cusco to the sky;
From that fair stream that mark'd their northern sway,
Where Apurimac leads his lucid way,
To yon far glimmering lake, the southern bound,
The growing tribes their peaceful dwellings found;
While wealth and grandeur bless'd the extended reign,
From the bold Andes to the western main.
When, fierce from eastern wilds, the savage bands
Lead war and slaughter o'er the happy lands;
Thro' fertile fields the paths of culture trace,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
While various fortune strow'd the embattled plain,
And baffled thousands still the strife maintain,
The unconquer'd Inca wakes the lingering war,
Drives back their host and speeds their flight afar;
Till, fired with rage, they range the wonted wood,
And feast their souls on future scenes of blood.
Where yon blue summits hang their cliffs on high;
Frown o'er the plains and lengthen round the sky;
Where vales exalted thro' the breaches run;
And drink the nearer splendors of the sun,
From south to north, the tribes innumerous wind,
By hills of ice and mountain streams confined;
Rouse neighbouring hosts, and meditate the blow,
To blend their force and whelm the world below.
Capac, with caution, views the dark design,
From countless wilds what hostile myriads join;
And greatly strives to bid the discord cease,
By profferd compacts of perpetual peace.
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Leaves the deep confines of the temple wall;
In whose fair form, in lucid garments drest,
Began the sacred function of the priest.
In early youth, ere yet the genial sun
Had twice six changes o'er his childhood run,
The blooming prince, beneath his parents' hand,
Learn'd all the laws that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,
[...] Read more
poem by Joel Barlow
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Thurso’s Landing
I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.
II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Lara
LARA. [1]
CANTO THE FIRST.
I.
The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, [2]
And slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord —
The long self-exiled chieftain is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.
II.
The chief of Lara is return'd again:
And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,
Lord of himself; — that heritage of woe,
That fearful empire which the human breast
But holds to rob the heart within of rest! —
With none to check, and few to point in time
The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
Then, when he most required commandment, then
Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
His youth through all the mazes of its race;
Short was the course his restlessness had run,
But long enough to leave him half undone.
III.
And Lara left in youth his fatherland;
But from the hour he waved his parting hand
Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
"Yet doth he live!" exclaims the impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
[...] Read more
Lara. A Tale
The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain,
And slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord--
The long self-exiled chieftain is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.
II.
The chief of Lara is return'd again:
And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,
Lord of himself;--that heritage of woe,
That fearful empire which the human breast
But holds to rob the heart within of rest!--
With none to check, and few to point in time
The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
Then, when he most required commandment, then
Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
His youth through all the mazes of its race;
Short was the course his restlessness had run,
But long enough to leave him half undone.
III.
And Lara left in youth his fatherland;
But from the hour he waved his parting hand
Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
'Yet doth he live!' exclaims the impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
A hundred scutcheons deck with gloomy grace
The Laras' last and longest dwelling-place;
But one is absent from the mouldering file,
That now were welcome to that Gothic pile.
IV.
He comes at last in sudden loneliness,
And whence they know not, why they need not guess;
[...] Read more
Shout
We-eee-eeel....
You know you make me wanna (Shout!)
Kick my heels up and (Shout!)
Throw my hands up and (Shout!)
Throw my head back and (Shout!)
Come on now (Shout!)
Don't forget to say you will
Don't forget to say, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Say you will)
Say it right now bab-ay
(Say you will)
Come on, come on
(Say you will)
Say it, will-a you-ooooo!
(Say you will)
You got it, now!
(Say) say that you love me
(Say) say that you need me
(Say) say that you want me
(Say) you wanna please me
(Say) come on now
(Say) come on now
(Say) come on now
(Say) come on now
(Say) I still remember
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
When you used to be nine years old
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
Yeah-yeah!
I was a fool for you, from the bottom of my soul, yeah!
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
Now that you've grown, up
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
Enough to know, yeah yeah
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
You wanna leave me, you wanna, let me go
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop)
I want you to know
I said I want you to know right now, yeah!
You been good to me baby
Better than I been to myself, hey! hey!
An if you ever leave me
I don't want nobody else, hey! hey!
I said I want you to know-ho-ho-hey!
I said I want you to know right now, hey! hey!
You know you make me wanna
(Shout-wooo) hey-yeah
(Shout-wooo) yeah-yeah-yeah
(Shout-wooo) aaaalll-right
[...] Read more
song performed by Isley Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sixth Book
THE English have a scornful insular way
Of calling the French light. The levity
Is in the judgment only, which yet stands;
For say a foolish thing but oft enough,
(And here's the secret of a hundred creeds,–
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell,
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing
Shall pass at least for absolutely wise,
And not with fools exclusively. And so,
We say the French are light, as if we said
The cat mews, or the milch-cow gives us milk:
Say rather, cats are milked, and milch cows mew,
For what is lightness but inconsequence,
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and cause,
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet light,
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while the eye
Winks, and the heart beats one, to flatten itself
To a wafer on the white speck on a wall
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim,
Is this French people.
All idealists
Too absolute and earnest, with them all
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh;
And still, devouring the safe interval
Which Nature placed between the thought and act,
They threaten conflagration to the world
And rush with most unscrupulous logic on
Impossible practice. Set your orators
To blow upon them with loud windy mouths
Through watchword phrases, jest or sentiment,
Which drive our burley brutal English mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way they blow,–
This light French people will not thus be driven.
They turn indeed; but then they turn upon
Some central pivot of their thought and choice,
And veer out by the force of holding fast.
–That's hard to understand, for Englishmen
Unused to abstract questions, and untrained
To trace the involutions, valve by valve,
In each orbed bulb-root of a general truth,
And mark what subtly fine integument
Divides opposed compartments. Freedom's self
Comes concrete to us, to be understood,
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
To suit our ways of thought and reverence,
The special form, with us, being still the thing.
With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
My mother's birth and grave, by father's grave
And memory; let it be,–a poet's heart
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fashion
Theres a brand new dance but I dont know its name
That people from bad homes do again and again
Its big and its bland full of tension and fear
They do it over there but we dont do it here
Fashion! turn to the left
Fashion! turn to the right
Oooh, fashion!
We are the goon squad and were coming to town
Beep-beep
Beep-beep
Listen to me - dont listen to me
Talk to me - dont talk to me
Dance with me - dont dance with me, no
Beep-beep
Theres a brand new talk, but its not very clear
Oh bop
That people from good homes are talking this year
Oh bop, fashion
Its loud and tasteless and Ive heard it before
Oh bop
You shout it while youre dancing on the ole dance
Floor
Oh bop, fashion
Fashion! turn to the left
Fashion! right
Fashion!
We are the goon squad and were coming to town
Beep-beep
Beep-beep
Listen to me - dont listen to me
Talk to me - dont talk to me
Dance with me - dont dance with me, no
Beep-beep
Beep-beep
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
La-la la la la la la-la
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
La-la la la la la la-la
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion
La-la la la la la la-la
Oh, bop, do do do do do do do do
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rosciad
Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.
Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Churchill
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11
SCARCE had the rosy Morning rais’d her head
Above the waves, and left her wat’ry bed;
The pious chief, whom double cares attend
For his unburied soldiers and his friend,
Yet first to Heav’n perform’d a victor’s vows: 5
He bar’d an ancient oak of all her boughs;
Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac’d,
Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac’d.
The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn,
Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 10
Was hung on high, and glitter’d from afar,
A trophy sacred to the God of War.
Above his arms, fix’d on the leafless wood,
Appear’d his plumy crest, besmear’d with blood:
His brazen buckler on the left was seen; 15
Truncheons of shiver’d lances hung between;
And on the right was placed his corslet, bor’d;
And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword.
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: 20
“Our toils, my friends, are crown’d with sure success;
The greater part perform’d, achieve the less.
Now follow cheerful to the trembling town;
Press but an entrance, and presume it won.
Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, 25
As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice.
Turnus shall fall extended on the plain,
And, in this omen, is already slain.
Prepar’d in arms, pursue your happy chance;
That none unwarn’d may plead his ignorance, 30
And I, at Heav’n’s appointed hour, may find
Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind.
Meantime the rites and fun’ral pomps prepare,
Due to your dead companions of the war:
The last respect the living can bestow, 35
To shield their shadows from contempt below.
That conquer’d earth be theirs, for which they fought,
And which for us with their own blood they bought;
But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
To the sad city of Evander send, 40
Who, not inglorious, in his age’s bloom,
Was hurried hence by too severe a doom.”
Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way,
Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay.
Acoetes watch’d the corpse; whose youth deserv’d 45
The father’s trust; and now the son he serv’d
With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
Th’ attendants of the slain his sorrow share.
A troop of Trojans mix’d with these appear,
And mourning matrons with dishevel’d hair. 50
[...] Read more
poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Walk
Attention everybody
I'm gonna show U a brand new dance
It's called "The Walk," "The Walk"
Just let your body talk
'Til U're deep in a trance
U don't need no partner
U can walk all alone
(Say, say) Whenever U feel the groove
Just let your body move
Walkin' 2 a beat of your own (Hey)
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Attention everybody
I said it ain't hard 2 do
U just walk, walk
Let your body talk
Walkin' so cool (Walkin' so cool)
Attention everybody
I said I just shined my shoes, yes I did
So U can let your body talk
But just watch where U walk
Or your life U're gonna lose
In other words, I'll walk U til U're dead
Everybody walk your body (Oh yeah, hey)
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body
Oh, everybody walk
The days of dancing in one place are gone
And honey, U know U can't dance with them tight jeans on
If U try 2 cop a dip, U trip, slip, and fall
Walking's 4 the cool baby, put on a camisole (Hey)
Everybody walk your body (Everybody walk your body)
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body (Everybody walk your body)
Everybody walk (Uh)
Who? Me? I wear baggies, zip, snap, and drop
(Mm) Easy access baby (Yes, before U get a chance 2 holler "Stop!")
Besides, Rollo likes his freedom
Ain't nothin' like a fresh pair of baggies
Now I know that's right
Everybody walk your body (Everybody walk your body)
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk (Oh)
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' 4? Walk!
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' 4? Walk!
Company fall in line, talk
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' 4? Walk! (Jellybean)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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