3 Minute Warning
you got a 3 minute warning go under your stairs
with your dehydrated milk and your 15 cans of beans
tell you on the radio don't panic human race
your life is not so vital as it seems
as it seems ahhaha as it seems
Take off your door and prop it up against the wall
at an angle of 35 degrees
grab you're treasured possesions your cigarettes drugs and booze
and pile them up any way you please
any way you please ahahahah any way you please
written by Lynn Bradshaw 1992 at 548 Boydstone Road Glasgow G46 8HW
Ministry of defence knew all about armeggedon
someones finger on the button all the time
kept us in the dark for oh oh a hundred years
like peasants kept deaf dumb and blind
deaf dumb and blind
So we come out out of our shelters
after oh who knows how long
to find our planet devastated
and most of the people gone
The ones that survived
mutilated for all time
and a beautiful world destroyed
that once was yours and mine
yours and mine
oh oh oh
yours and mine
you got a 3 minute warning
3 minute warning
oh oh oh oh
it's not enough
poem by Lynn Weescabbydugs
Added by Poetry Lover
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[...] Read more
poem by Caasder Fronds
Added by Poetry Lover
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A Womans Threat
My time, my patience, my love
My blood, my sweat, my tears
My burdens, my drama, my pain
My car, my money, my home
My ups, my downs, my fears
And my hours, my work, my strength
My fault, my this, my that
Nigga please
If you dont stop
(this is a warning)
Someones gonna lay in your bed
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna eat your food
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna wear your clothes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna fit your shoes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna get your keys
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna open your doors
(this is a warning)
Someones gonna get your check
(this is a warning)
This is a womans threat
Baby, this is a womans threat
My shakin, my sleep, my stress
My days, my night, my rest
My dos, my donts, my dares
And my church, my pastor, my prayers
My all, my faith, my powers
And my kitchen, my sink, my towels
My joy, my sad, my hate
And my sister, my cousin, my friends
My lights, my gas, my bills
My role, my way, my will
My hollerin, my fussin, my fights
Nigga please
If you dont stop
(this is a warning)
Someones gonna lay in your bed
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna eat your food
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna wear your clothes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna fit your shoes
(this is a warning)
And someones gonna get your keys
(this is a warning)
[...] Read more
song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
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People Panic
Tripped out,
Over their finances.
Doubts begin to cloud their minds...
With a suggestion to breathe deeply.
To prevent a panic to exist.
And if they don't breathe deeply,
That's exactly what they'll find!
That's exactly what they'll get...
Panic!
But do people listen?
No!
Is common sense from them missing?
Well...
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But if I'm allowed,
I would choose to brag.
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But people seem to get,
Just what they ask!
And everywhere you go,
You'll see them in their stubbornness to give!
In 'fits' like spoiled little kids.
And everywhere you go,
You'll see them in their stubbornness to give!
In 'fits' like spoiled little kids.
But do people listen?
No!
Is common sense from them missing?
Well...
I don't want to pass,
That as harrassment.
But if I'm allowed,
I would choose to brag.
Tripped out,
Over their finances.
Doubts begin to cloud their minds...
With a suggestion to breathe deeply.
To prevent a panic to exist.
And if they don't breathe deeply,
That's exactly what they'll find!
That's exactly what they'll get...
Panic!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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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
Added by Poetry Lover
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Picking From A Grab Bag
Pick one.
Go ahead and pick one.
Just only pick one...
And pull it from the grab bag.
Pick one.
Why don't you pick one.
Just pick up any one,
And...
Pull it from the grab bag.
Do the children learn their ABC's,
Picking from a grab bag.
Is this the best that it can be,
To...
Pick from a grab bag.
What's learn by,
Picking from a grab bag.
What's earned by,
Picking from a grab bag.
Who teaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
Who preaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
And what lessons are really learned?
Who,
Teaches...
Picking from a grab bag.
Who preaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
What's learn by,
Picking from a grab bag.
What's earned by,
Picking from a grab bag.
And...
What lessons are really learned,
Picking from a grab bag.
Picking from a grab bag.
Picking from a grab bag.
Picking from a grab bag.
Who teaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
Who preaches,
Picking from a grab bag.
And...
What lessons are really learned,
Picking from a grab bag.
And...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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On The Radio (From The Motion Picture Foxes)
Someone found a letter you wrote me, on the radio
and they told the world just how you felt
it must have fallen out of a hole in your old brown overcoat
they never said your name
but I knew just who they meant.
I was so surprised and shocked, and I wonderer, too
if by chance you heard it for yourself
I never told a soul just how I've been feeling about you
but they said it really loud
they said it on the air
On the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
Now, now
don't it kinda strike you sad when you hear our song
things are not the same since we broke up last June
the only thing that I wanna hear is that you love me still
and that you think you'll be coming home real soon
whoa, oh, yeah, yeah
And it made me feel proud when I heard you say
you couldn't find the words to say it yourself
and now in my heart I know I can say what I really feel
'Cause they said it really loud
they said it on the air
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
(Played in shorter version)
If you think that love isn't found on the radio
well tune right in you made find the love you lost
'cause now I'm sitting here with the man I sent away long ago
it sounded really loud
they said it really loud
On the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
on the radio
whoa, oh, oh
[...] Read more
song performed by Donna Summer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Radio Ga Ga
Words and music by roger taylor
Radio Id sit alone and watch your light
My only friend through teenage nights
And evrything I had to know
I heard it on my radio
You gave them all those old time stars
Through wars of worlds - invaded by mars
You made em laugh - you made em cry
You made us feel like we could fly
Radio
So dont become some background noise
A backdrop for the girls and boys
Who just dont know or just dont care
And just complain when youre not there
You had your time you had the power
Youve yet to have your finest hour
Radio
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio blah blah
Radio whats new?
Radio someone still loves you
We watch the shows - we watch the stars
On videos for hours and hours
We hardly need to use our ears
How music changes through the years
Lets hope you never leave old friend
Like all good things on you we depend
So stick around cos we might miss you
When we grow tired of all this visual
You had your time you had the power
Youve yet to have your finest hour
Radio
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio blah blah
Radio whats new?
Someone still loves you
Radio ga ga
Radio ga ga
Radio ga ga
Radio
You had your time you had the power
[...] Read more
song performed by Queen
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Flower-De-Luce: The Bells Of Lynn. Heard At Nahant
O curfew of the setting sun! O Bells of Lynn!
O requiem of the dying day! O Bells of Lynn!
From the dark belfries of yon cloud-cathedral wafted,
Your sounds aerial seem to float, O Bells of Lynn!
Borne on the evening wind across the crimson twilight,
O'er land and sea they rise and fall, O Bells of Lynn!
The fisherman in his boat, far out beyond the headland,
Listens, and leisurely rows ashore, O Bells of Lynn!
Over the shining sands the wandering cattle homeward
Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn!
The distant lighthouse hears, and with his flaming signal
Answers you, passing the watchword on, O Bells of Lynn!
And down the darkening coast run the tumultuous surges,
And clap their hands, and shout to you, O Bells of Lynn!
Till from the shuddering sea, with your wild incantations,
Ye summon up the spectral moon, O Bells of Lynn!
And startled at the sight like the weird woman of Endor,
Ye cry aloud, and then are still, O Bells of Lynn!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Iliad: Book 12
So the son of Menoetius was attending to the hurt of Eurypylus
within the tent, but the Argives and Trojans still fought desperately,
nor were the trench and the high wall above it, to keep the Trojans in
check longer. They had built it to protect their ships, and had dug
the trench all round it that it might safeguard both the ships and the
rich spoils which they had taken, but they had not offered hecatombs
to the gods. It had been built without the consent of the immortals,
and therefore it did not last. So long as Hector lived and Achilles
nursed his anger, and so long as the city of Priam remained untaken,
the great wall of the Achaeans stood firm; but when the bravest of the
Trojans were no more, and many also of the Argives, though some were
yet left alive when, moreover, the city was sacked in the tenth
year, and the Argives had gone back with their ships to their own
country- then Neptune and Apollo took counsel to destroy the wall, and
they turned on to it the streams of all the rivers from Mount Ida into
the sea, Rhesus, Heptaporus, Caresus, Rhodius, Grenicus, Aesopus,
and goodly Scamander, with Simois, where many a shield and helm had
fallen, and many a hero of the race of demigods had bitten the dust.
Phoebus Apollo turned the mouths of all these rivers together and made
them flow for nine days against the wall, while Jove rained the
whole time that he might wash it sooner into the sea. Neptune himself,
trident in hand, surveyed the work and threw into the sea all the
foundations of beams and stones which the Achaeans had laid with so
much toil; he made all level by the mighty stream of the Hellespont,
and then when he had swept the wall away he spread a great beach of
sand over the place where it had been. This done he turned the
rivers back into their old courses.
This was what Neptune and Apollo were to do in after time; but as
yet battle and turmoil were still raging round the wall till its
timbers rang under the blows that rained upon them. The Argives, cowed
by the scourge of Jove, were hemmed in at their ships in fear of
Hector the mighty minister of Rout, who as heretofore fought with
the force and fury of a whirlwind. As a lion or wild boar turns
fiercely on the dogs and men that attack him, while these form solid
wall and shower their javelins as they face him- his courage is all
undaunted, but his high spirit will be the death of him; many a time
does he charge at his pursuers to scatter them, and they fall back
as often as he does so- even so did Hector go about among the host
exhorting his men, and cheering them on to cross the trench.
But the horses dared not do so, and stood neighing upon its brink,
for the width frightened them. They could neither jump it nor cross
it, for it had overhanging banks all round upon either side, above
which there were the sharp stakes that the sons of the Achaeans had
planted so close and strong as a defence against all who would
assail it; a horse, therefore, could not get into it and draw his
chariot after him, but those who were on foot kept trying their very
utmost. Then Polydamas went up to Hector and said, "Hector, and you
other captains of the Trojans and allies, it is madness for us to
try and drive our horses across the trench; it will be very hard to
cross, for it is full of sharp stakes, and beyond these there is the
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Four Seasons : Spring
Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts
With unaffected grace, or walk the plain
With innocence and meditation join'd
In soft assemblage, listen to my song,
Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.
And see where surly Winter passes off,
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.
As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd,
And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets
Deform the day delightless: so that scarce
The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulf'd,
To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore
The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste
At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,
And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more
The expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold
But, full of life and vivifying soul,
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads then thin,
Fleecy, and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven.
Forth fly the tepid airs: and unconfined,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, the impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well used plough
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.
There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark.
Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share
The master leans, removes the obstructing clay,
Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe
While through the neighbouring fields the sowe stalks,
With measured step, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground;
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.
Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious Man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
Added by Poetry Lover
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Eyes-radio-lies
Slipping past position
You know I watch you dive
Watching you painted in chrome max factor
And feeling number one
all alone now
I can see you way, to the drone
Radio waves, hitting your brain from the phone
I can see
I cant see whats on your mind
Because your never alone
I am the voice inside your head
And the eyes in your radio
Im the eyes in your radio (radio, radio)
Im the eyes in your radio (radio, radio)
Hello mr. race car driver
You know Im watching you too
In the trauma-room, brain dead, still you went faster
Now your number means nothing
Mr. nickel-plated candyman
Are you feeling in lifeless in aluminum
Spinning decisions to the core
As everyone dances in the fast lane
I cant see whats on your mind
Because your never alone
I am the voice inside your head
And the eyes in your radio
Im the eyes in your radio (eyes in your radio)
Im the eyes in your radio (radio, radio)
With all thats fake, theres sence to make
From toys that break (from toys that, from toys that break)
Its time to throw away, all the bad things that you hated
You scared yourself away, now heres what you appreciate
Thats why people lie (people like you)
Thats why people lie (people like me)
Thats why people lie (people like you)
Thats why people lie (people like me)
Thats why people lie (so go away)
Thats why people lie (people like me)
Thats why people lie (people like you)
Thats why people lie
Im the eyes in your radio (eyes in your radio)
Im the eyes in your radio (radio, radio)
With all thats fake, theres sence to make, from toys that break (radio,
Radio...)
With all thats fake, theres sence to make, from toys that break (radio,
Radio...)
With all thats fake, theres sence to make, from toys that break
With all thats fake, theres sence to make, from toys that break
song performed by Orgy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Turn Your Radio On
Come and listen in to a radio station
Where the mighty hosts of heaven sing
Turn your radio on, turn your radio on
If you want to feel those good vibrations
Coming from the joy that His love can bring
Turn you radio on, turn your radio on.
Turn your radio on
And listen to the music in the air
Turn your radio on and glory share
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, and turn your radio on.
--- Instrumental ---
Everybody has a radio receiver
All you got to do is listen for the call
Turn your radio on, turn your radio on
If you listen in you will be a believer
Leanin' on the truths that'll never fall
Get in touch with God, turn the radio on.
Turn your radio on
And listen to the music in the air
Turn your radio on and glory share
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, turn your radio on.
Turn your radio on
And listen to the music in the air
Turn your radio on and glory share
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, turn your radio on.
Turn your lights down low
And listen to the Master's radio
Get in touch with God, turn your radio on...
song performed by Randy Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Radio Romance
(john duarte/mark paul)
I see you baby
Every single day
Holding on to my best friend
But you dont see me
So I make the same request now
Every single night
Going out from me to you
On the dedication line
I wonder if youre listening
To the words that keep me wishing
That one day Ill be kissing you
Wo wo wo
Radio radio romance
Radio radio romance
Radio radio romance
Radio romance
My secret admiration
I wont reveal
I wouldnt want to hurt no one
By tellin how I feel
The dj knows my voice now
He even knows my choice now
He never says my name
He just says from the one
Who loves you baby
Radio radio romance
Radio radio romance
Radio radio romance
Radio romance
One night youll hear a song
And then youll know just who its from
(rap) I see you baby, every single day
Holding on to my best friend
But you dont see me
I wonder if youre listening
To the words that keep me wishing
That one day Ill be kissing you
Wo wo wo
Radio radio romance
Radio radio romance
Radio radio romance
Radio romance
song performed by Tiffany
Added by Lucian Velea
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Minute By Minute
Michael mcdonald/lester abrams
Hey, dont worry, Ive been lied to
Ive been here many times before
Girl, dont you worry, I know where I stand
I dont need this love, I dont need your hand
I know I could turn, blink, and youd be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
You will stay just to watch me, darlin
Wilt away on lies from you
Cant stop the habit of livin on the run
I take it all for granted like youre the only one
Livin on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
You think Im your fool
Well, you may just be right
cause minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Call my name and Ill be gone
Youll reach out and I wont be there
Just my luck youll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend your life with someone
Minute by minute by minute by minute
Ill be holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
Ill be holding on...
song performed by Doobie Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Minute By Minute (Dobbie Brothers)
(Michael McDonaldLester Abrams)
Hey, don't worry, I've been lied to
I've been here many times before
Girl, don't you worry, I know where I stand
I don't need this love, I don't need your hand
I know I could turn, blink, and you'd be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
You will stay just to watch me, darlin'
Wilt away on lies from you
Can't stop the habit of livin' on the run
I take it all for granted like you're the only one
Livin' on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
You think I'm your fool
Well, you may just be right
'Cause minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Call my name and I'll be gone
You'll reach out and I won't be there
Just my luck you'll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend your life with someone
Minute by minute by minute by minute
I'll be holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I'll be holding on...
song performed by Michael Mcdonald
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Want A Warning
History is made, not repeated
And you hide behind words that make you feel needed
And what you read in those books made you so conceited
So in order for love to be true
My dreams will have to
Become my only rules
I want a warning
I want a warning
I want something more than a warning
I've been warned about you
I see through all your promises and warnings
I want a warning
I want a warning
I want something more than a warning
I've been warned about you
I see through all your promises and warnings
Wake me up on into a world outdated
And the older you get the more you seem jaded
As you search for the quotes to make it seem complicated
So in order for love to be true
Even my nightmares
Become my only rules
I want a warning
I want a warning
I want something more than a warning
I've been warned about you
I see through all your promises and warnings
I want a warning
I want a warning
I want something more than a warning
I've been warned about you
But I've seen through
Every promise is a warning
I want a warning
I want a warning
I want something more than a warning
I've been warned about you
I see through all your promises and warnings
I want a warning
I want a warning
I want something more than a warning
I've been warned about you
I've seen through
For a promise of a warning
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Castle Of Indolence
The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.
O mortal man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate;
That like an emmet thou must ever moil,
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date:
And, certes, there is for it reason great;
For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curse thy star, and early drudge and late;
Withouten that would come a heavier bale,
Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.
In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompass'd round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,
Than whom a fiend more fell is no where found.
It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground;
And there a season atween June and May,
Half prankt with spring, with summer half imbrown'd,
A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,
No living wight could work, ne cared even for play.
Was nought around but images of rest:
Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between;
And flowery beds that slumbrous influence kest,
From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant green,
Where never yet was creeping creature seen.
Meantime, unnumber'd glittering streamlets play'd,
And hurled every where their waters sheen;
That, as they bicker'd through the sunny glade,
Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made.
Join'd to the prattle of the purling rills
Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,
And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,
And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:
And, now and then, sweet Philomel would wail,
Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;
Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.
Full in the passage of the vale, above,
A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;
Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move,
As Idless fancied in her dreaming mood:
And up the hills, on either side, a wood
Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;
And where this valley winded out, below,
The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
Added by Poetry Lover
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