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It has been said that the love of money is the root of all evil. The want of money is so quite as truly.

Samuel Butler in Erewhon (1872)
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Synergy of Love

'Were you honed from poetry? '
I asked your saddened smile.
For it seems to tell a longing tale -
One of words in oratory
That speaks in languid metaphors
From lips of mind in deep despair
And solitude from inner wars
That over time has rendered life so frail.

'Were you carved from doleful prose? '
I sought to ask your gaze,
For a pain lies deep within your eyes -
One of barren territory
Where no fair heart could ever drift
And hope to venture back content
With grateful memories in a gift -
A land of your affectional demise.

'Do I hear a mournful hum? '
I wondered of your cry,
For it sings a song of deep lament -
One of quiet soliloquy
Recited on deserted strands
To waves that have no sense of song
And only wish to fight the sands -
A chant that cites emotional descent.

Do you know your face portrays
The colours of your soul?
It tells me at a single glance
Of how you burned your furnace whole
To stay the fire in our romance.

And see the prismic hues they bore!
I cherished all I ever saw:
Mauve of mystic; browns of rustic;
Reddened tones to match your blush;
Marine of passion, spending out your being,
Leaving you for ashen embers, fleeing
The dying light in hush of night.
And how you lay there empty.

So let me help re-grow the flowers
Once erect in fiery showers!
For now I've seen what love can do
When torn asunder - oh my catastrophic blunder!

But we must realise -
Our flaming want is meant to be!
We are the ocean and the sea;

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Forsaking My Love

I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth

love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love

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poem by Michael Silver
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Her...

I can never get my mind off her,
I wonder if she'd mind if i'd,
make her my own,
and never let her go,
hug her tight,
treat her right,
act all polite,
take her on a date,
make sure i'm never late,
kiss her on her lips,
talk about our kids,
Make her feel like princess,
living in a castle,
hope that is not too much hassle,
But i am so blessed,
hope i can be the best,
hold you tight,
have your BR3A$t,
on my chest,
pass the test,
NOW YOUR MINE!

sorry for word spamming: (

love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love

poem by Jordan Moore
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Chug-a-lug

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

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love Of Money

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

song performed by Kris Kristofferson
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Bitter Blow of Love

Love! you dealt a bitter blow –
You lay me cross the mortal plains,
Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds: eternal rains
To weep at my enduring foe

Of harsh reality – searing pains of
Destiny: dependable propensity
To fool myself repeatedly
That I could ever triumph over love!

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring

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poem by John Milton
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Drop Kick That Evil

We've got to get together and defeat the beast that eats...
Any remnants of peace!
That beast wants to cease a potential feasting of peace,
Released.
And this keeps a people teased by evil.

We've got to get together on collective feet.
And march together in a harmonized beat.
To sweep away the preaching of what's evil.

Drop kick that evil.
Like a football kicked right over a goal.
Drop kick that evil.
Don't leave it in your hands to hold.
To get tackled and crushed up.
Laying flat on a knocked out butt.

We've got to get together and defeat the beast that eats...
Any remnants of peace!
We've got to get together on collective feet.
And march together in a harmonized beat.
To sweep away the preaching of what's evil.

Drop kick that evil.
Like a football kicked right over a goal.
Drop kick that evil.
Don't leave it in your hands to hold...
To get your butt dumped on!

That beast wants to cease a potential feasting of peace,
Released.
And this keeps a people teased by evil.
Drop kick that evil.

There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

Drop kick that evil.
There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

Drop kick that evil.
There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Snag It From The Root

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Evil, I Call You!

Evil, I am calling!
Evil, do you hear?
Evil, I’m imploring!
Please – I beg your ear!

Evil, I beseech you Sir!
Evil, be you near?
Evil, might you spare some time?
Please – you must appear!

Deep in barren ground I feel a rumble and a quake:
Evil stirs beneath me now – oh how the earth doth shake!
Dark begins retreating back and gives to eerie glow:
Light of hues appeal to mind in glory of His show!

I, so truly worthy, view Evil’s phosphorescence!
I, so truly honoured, scent Evil’s rancid essence!

Whenceforth He rose – ‘twas Evil’s phantasm!
Climax unfolds in Evil’s orgasm!

He lowered His sight to peer my form
From orbits sunk in fiery storm.
Incredulous now, and twice in awe, I
Harkened close to Evil’s roar:

‘I Evil, appear at your request!
Pray tell, of what is thine behest!

Your say must be bold, for you do not run, and
You’re evil enough – is my work not done?
So speak of your wanting, my impious serf,
To hail my cathedral so deep in this earth. ’

I pulled up with pride and pushed out my chest:

‘Though I be Man in all his great fame,
My evil is lacking – my damage is lame –
I crave for the power that you can instill, to
Heighten my evil and drive up the thrill! '

Evil stared in disbelief:
Could I see a trace of grief?

‘I, Evil, must say unto you:
I see wars of destruction – both savage and wild –
People lay dying – that’s woman and child!
All of mankind lay poisoned and green
From virus of hatred – oh this I have seen!
You fight and you kill and maim animals and all:

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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Money, Money

My baby gives me the finance blues, tax me to the limit of my revenues.
Here she comes finger-poppin, clickety-click
She says furs or diamonds, you take your pick.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
She say, money, honey, Id rob a bank,
I just load my gun and mosey down to the bank.
Knockin off my neighborhood savings and load,
To keep my sweet chiquita in eau de cologne.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Mama dont send me down to rob that bank again,
I got a notion that your leadin me to sin.
Wont you relax, wont you lay way back,
Dont you bug your honey bout no cadillac.
Its only bucks, you dont need no jack.
So wont you please relax and lay way back.
My babys lovin gives me such a thrill;
It gives me inspiration makin counterfeit bills.
Now some folks say the best things in life are free,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Lord made a lady out of adams rib, next thing you know, you got womens lib.
Lovely to look upon, heaven to touch;
Its a real shame that they got to cost so much.

song performed by Grateful Dead
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Publicly You Treat Me Evil

You don't have to be,
Pleasing and sweet.
But publicly...
You treat me evil.

In private you are so adored.
And I am sure...
You-are-my-equal.

But on the streets,
You then deceive.
You have a need,
To treat me evil.

Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.

Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.

But publicly,
You treat me evil.
People see,
You treat me evil.

Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
To be evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.
But...
Pub licly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Treat me evil!
But...
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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Hes Evil

Scene: a party political broadcast -- mr. black and his followers
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind.
Hes got style, personality,
But hes the devil in reality.
Hell make you laugh, make you smile,
And make you feel good for a while.
Wicked smile, decadent grin,
He likes school girls, nuns and virgins.
His skin is soft but his mind is hard,
Hell lead you on then hell tear you apart.
Hell treat you rough and he will make you cry,
And you will kiss sweet innocence good-bye.
And once youre in therell be no getting out,
So look out, look out, look out, look out.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes got wit hes got charm.
But when he gets rough hell break your arm.
Hes got taste, manners and grace,
But when he gets tough hell slit your face.
Hell buy you jewels, expensive clothes,
Then his mindll go and hell bust your nose.
Hes a joker and a clown
But hell pervert you and drag you down.
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind,
He is just the devil in disguise.
He will drag you down and he will make you cry,
And once youre in there will be no getting out.
So look out, look out, look out.
Look out, look out, look out.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Live no evil

Say no evil; refraining to bring even the most
inconspicuous of hatred to your immaculately divine
lips,
See no evil; closing your eyes as they lecherously
wandered; casting their diabolical glimpse upon
innocuous entities trespassing through this mighty
planet,
Propagate no evil; disseminating only philanthropic
benevolence from your palms; in every entity you
encountered; during your impoverished existence upon
Mother Earth,
Hear no evil; basking only in the glory of melodiously
captivating sound; gushing like an untamed whirlwind
to the faintest cry of your fellow comrades in
inexplicable distress,
Sing no evil; chopping your tongue to an infinite bits
of inconspicuous ash; the instant it uttered things
against God’s most enthrallingly mesmerizing planet,
Patronize no evil; harboring only the irrefutable
essence of celestial peace profoundly within your
magnanimous soul; blatantly ostracizing those who
condemned wonderful humanity,
Fantasize no evil; drifting the intriguing chords of
your brain towards a land more enchanting than
paradise; the instant the devil tried capsizing it
from all sides,
Philosophize no evil; tirelessly browsing through only
textbooks of charismatic mankind; immortalizing its
spirit till even centuries after; you relinquished
breath and died,
Shield no evil; audaciously vanquishing every single
trace of malice from the gloomy interiors of your
dwelling; substituting it with an everlasting stream
on perpetual love,
Paint no evil; using your fingers to uplift tyrannized
humanity; sketching with them an infinite myriad of
shapes; that profusely enlightened disastrously
devastated lives,
Chase no evil; indefatigably embarking upon a mission
to save earth from bloodshed; evacuate the most
inconspicuous iota of treachery from the complexion of
satanic soil,
Eat no evil; relishing the fruits of freedom every
moment of your diminutive life; escalating higher than
the rhapsodic clouds with your comrades by your
majestic side,
Transcend no evil; perennially existing beneath the
blessings of the Omnisciently divine; savoring as well
diffusing harmonious happiness; to every iota of this
boundlessly beautiful planet,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Spectator ab Extra

As I sat in the Café I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

I sit at my table en grand seigneur,
And when I have done, throw a crust to the poor;
Not only the pleasure itself of good living,
But also the pleasure of now and then giving:
So pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
So pleasant it is to have money.

They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
And how one ought never to think of one’s self,
How pleasures of thought surpass eating and drinking—
My pleasure of thought is the pleasure of thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

II
Le Diner

Come along, ‘tis the time, ten or more minutes past,
And he who came first had to wait for the last;
The oysters ere this had been in and been out;
Whilst I have been sitting and thinking about
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

A clear soup with eggs, voilà tout; of the fish
The filets de sole are a moderate dish
A la Orly, but you’re for the red mullet, you say:
By the gods of good fare, who can question today
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

After oysters, sauterne; then sherry; champagne,
Ere one bottle goes, comes another again;
Fly up, thou bold cork, to the ceiling above,
And tell to our ears in the sound that they love
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.

I’ve the simplest of palates; absurd it may be,
But I almost could dine on a poulet-au-riz,
Fish and soup and omelette and that – but the deuce –
There were to be woodcocks, and not Charlotte Russe!
So pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!

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poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

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

[...] Read more

poem by Virgil
Added by Poetry Lover
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Money Back Guarantee

By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, will jennings
1983
One day youll be glad I came around
I may be the best thing you have found
Aint much you can count on in this town
I swear Im speaking from my heart
And I want let you down
Chorus:
My love is guaranteed
Youre never going to see the end of me
Ive got all you need
Like a ginsu knife or a bamboo steamer
Late-night t.v. hawk-eyed screamer
Youll be the coffee Ill be the creamer
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaranteed
I just do my best to stay alive
Got a junked out car but you should see me drive
Racing down st. charles avenue
Aint got much but what I got
Will sure be good for you
Chorus:
My love is guaranteed
Youre never going to see the end of me
Ive got all you need
Like a ginsu knife or a bamboo steamer
Late-night t.v. hawk-eyed screamer
Youll be the coffee Ill be the creamer
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaranteed
Flyin down the highway of my dreams
You will find my crazy love
Is always what it seems
Chorus:
My love is guaranteed
Youre never going to see the end of me
Ive got all you need
Like a ginsu knife or a bamboo steamer
Late-night t.v. hawk-eyed screamer
Youll be the coffee Ill be the creamer
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaranteed
Im money back, money back guaran...
Money back, money back guaran...
Money back, (money back) money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaran...
Money back, money back guaran...
Im money back, money back guaranteed
Money back, money back guaran...
Money back, money back guaran...

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Evil That Dwells Within

I see faces that walk past me, And a shadow that stands beside me, I see you and the evil sees me.

When I am alone the evil always calls to me, The evil whispers to me but only inside my head, The evil is always around me and influencing my hatred of others.

The evil so frighting that others would flee from it but I find A new view of life with it, When good should envelope me the evil burns it away from me. I have no room for your pathetic lies and excuses this evil inside me is all I need.

It never judges only befriends me, I hate it but I wish to love it, With the evil that dwells within I can do anything and not fear anything or anyone, Speak my mind with decision I have not found my religion. God was never there but the evil that fills me.

I am angry and always seem to be, Only A few are selected to see the good in me, Others will have to deal with the evil that stands beside me, People judged to many times and now my mind is full of hatred, Burning my feelings and spitting on me.

I have never been bullied but people do it visually by glaring at me, Not my popular friends but the ones who don't know me, I hate you and wish to see you feel the evil within me, But I will not release it because it would make A scene.

When my time is right and Satan depicts and calls back the evil within me, Than I will be free. I am to young to live this way but feel I need to be to teach me a lesson, By doing it carefully. My friends Don't know the way I view things because I hide it like I have hid everything, I am close to them but still the evil seems to follow me.

Some days are worse when the evil influences everyone around me and they seem to turn it all on me, they can't contain my evil like I can contain it, The evil is powerful but not more powerful than me, But the evil can change my mood faster than a bullet can kill an enemy.

My mood changes and all I see is Red and Blasphemy, Go into a dark fit that is inside me, Brings up my anger and hatred that I feel towards others. Can't stop the anger from rising but it is all I can do to strive and fight the feelings inside me.

I gain control and the evil will never take hold, It follows me and is the shadow beside me.

poem by Connor Whyte
Added by Poetry Lover
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