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Lady Madonna (informal Recording)

See how they run
Lady Madonna, children at your feet
Wonder how you manage to make ends meet
Saturday morning arrives without a suitcase
Sunday morning creep in like a nun
Friday's child forget to tie his suitcase
See how they run
Lady Madonna, children at your feet
Wonder if you're having fun making ends meet

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song of Wink Star

The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008

☼ ☼

☼ Preamble

Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…

Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…

Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…

O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….

Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….

☼ The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages

☼ 1

Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.

And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.

Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.

Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Have Fun

(bernard edwards/nile rodgers)
Hey, everybody
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Just like little children
Like the little children
Know how they have fun
Just like little children
Like the little children
Know how they have fun
Meanwhile back at the ranch
You're unhappy, now here's your chance
Don't you let the pressure appear
Make your lifestyle hectic all year
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Just like little children
Like the little children
Know how they have fun
Just like little children
Like the little children
Know how they have fun
Money won't be enough
When the going gets tough, it's rough
Try to cuddle with your business
And you'll see that love is priceless
If you don't believe what i say
Just experiment one day
I think that you will agree
That we need some kind of relief
Relif, relief
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Just like little children
Like the little children
Know how they have fun
Just like little children
Like the little children
Know how they have fun
Have fun again
Have fun
Have fun again
I want you to have fun
Just like little children

[...] Read more

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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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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On More Saturday Night

One More Saturday Night
-----------------------
I went down to the mountain, I was drinkin' some wine,
looked up in the heavens Lord I saw a mighty sign,
written in fire across the heavens, plain as black and white;
Get prepared, there's gonna be a party tonight.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Everybody's dancin' down the local armory
with a basement full of dynamite and light artillery.
The temperature keeps risin', everybody gittin' high;
come the rockin' stroke of midnite, the place is gonna fly.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Turn on channel six, the President comes on the news,
says "I get no satisfaction, that's why I sing the blues."
These wives, they don't get crazy, Lord, they know just what to do,
crank up that old Victrola, put on them rockin' shoes.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
When God way up in Heaven, for whatever it was worth,
thought He'd have a big old party, thought He'd call it planet Earth.
Don't worry about tomorrow, Lord, you'll know it when it comes,
when the rock and roll music meets the risin' shinin' sun.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Everybody gettin' right,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night.
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night

song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Morning

Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Christabel

PART I

'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock;
Tu-whit!- Tu-whoo!
And hark, again! the crowing cock,
How drowsily it crew.
Sir Leoline, the Baron rich,
Hath a toothless mastiff, which
From her kennel beneath the rock
Maketh answer to the clock,
Four for the quarters, and twelve for the hour;
Ever and aye, by shine and shower,
Sixteen short howls, not over loud;
Some say, she sees my lady's shroud.

Is the night chilly and dark?
The night is chilly, but not dark.
The thin gray cloud is spread on high,
It covers but not hides the sky.
The moon is behind, and at the full;
And yet she looks both small and dull.
The night is chill, the cloud is gray:
'T is a month before the month of May,
And the Spring comes slowly up this way.
The lovely lady, Christabel,
Whom her father loves so well,
What makes her in the wood so late,
A furlong from the castle gate?
She had dreams all yesternight
Of her own betrothed knight;
And she in the midnight wood will pray
For the weal of her lover that's far away.

She stole along, she nothing spoke,
The sighs she heaved were soft and low,
And naught was green upon the oak,
But moss and rarest mistletoe:
She kneels beneath the huge oak tree,
And in silence prayeth she.

The lady sprang up suddenly,
The lovely lady, Christabel!
It moaned as near, as near can be,
But what it is she cannot tell.-
On the other side it seems to be,
Of the huge, broad-breasted, old oak tree.
The night is chill; the forest bare;
Is it the wind that moaneth bleak?
There is not wind enough in the air

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Saturday Night's Alright

It's getting late have you seen my mates,
It's getting late have you seen my mates,
Go on and tell me when the boys get here.
Go on and tell me when the boys get here.
It's seven o'clock and I want to rock,
It's seven o'clock and i want to rock,
Want to get a belly full of beer.
Want to get a belly full of beer.
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady she don't care
And my old lady she don't care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots with a handful of grease in her hair.
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots with a handful of grease in her hair.
Hey... Don't give us none of your aggravation,
Hey... don't give us none of your aggravation,
We've had it with your discipline.
We've had it with your discipline.
Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting, get a little action in.
Saturday night's alright for fighting, get a little action in.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
Cause' Saturday Night's the night I like,
Cause' saturday night's the night i like,
Saturday Nights Alright..
Saturday nights alright..
Alright, Alright!
Alright, alright!
Well, we're packed pretty tight in here tonight and I'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right.
Well, we're packed pretty tight in here tonight and i'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right.
I may use a little muscle to get what I need, and sink a little drink and shout out, 'She's with me!'.
I may use a little muscle to get what i need, and sink a little drink and shout out, "she's with me!".
A couple of the sounds that I really like are the sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
A couple of the sounds that i really like are the sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class, who's best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class, who's best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
Don't give us none of your aggravation, we've had it with your discipline.
Don't give us none of your aggravation, we've had it with your discipline.
Saturday Night's Alright for fighting, to get a little action in.
Saturday night's alright for fighting, to get a little action in.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
Cause Saturday Night's the night I like,
Cause saturday night's the night i like,
Saturday Night's Alright...
Saturday night's alright...
Alright, Alright!
Alright, alright!
Chorus: Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!........
Chorus: saturday, saturday, saturday!........

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Car Crazy Cutie

Run a-run a doo run run
Wo run a-run a doo run run
Wo run a-run a doo run run
Wo run a-run a doo run run
Well my steady little doll is a real-live beauty
And everybody knows shes a car crazy cutie
Shes hip to everything man from customs to rails
And axel grease imbedded neath her fingernails
Wo yeah (run a-run a doo run run)
Wo oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh now cutie (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
A power shift in second and a-ridin the clutch
My car crazy cutie, man, shes just too much
I take her to the drags, man, and everyone flips
For her big blue eyes and her candy apple lips
Wo yeah (run a-run a doo run run)
Wo oh oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh now cutie (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Yeah oh
Car crazy cutie
Car crazy cutie
Car crazy cutie
Car crazy cutie
Well I guess you might say shes the rodders dream gal
Always there to help, man, when you need a pal
But when I talk of lovin man, some kisses and hugs
Says shes like to take em better clean and gap the plugs
Wo yeah (run a-run a doo run run)
Wo oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh now cutie (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Run a-run a doo run run
Wo run a-run a doo run run
Wo run a-run a doo run run
Wo oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Wo yeah (run a-run a doo run run)
Wo oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh now cutie (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run) [doo doo doo]
Wo yeah (run a-run a doo run run)
Wo oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh now cutie (wo run a-run a doo run run)
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh (wo run a-run a doo run run)

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Me Against The Music [Rishi Rich's Desi Kulcha Remix]

Britney:All my people in the crowd
Grab a partner take it down
It's me against the music
Madonna: Uh-ha
Britney: It's just me
Madonna: And me.
Britney: Yeah
Madonna: C'mon
Brintey: Hu!
Madonna: Hey Britney.
Britney: Are you ready?
Madonna: Uh-ha. Are you?
Britney: Uh
Madonna: When no-one cares
Britney: It's whipping my hair
It's pulling my waist
Madonna: To hell with stares
Britney: The sweat is dripping all over my face
Madonna: And no-one's there
Britney: I'm the only one dancin up in this place
Madonna: Tonight I'm here
Britney: For the beat of the drum gotta get with that base
BRIDGE
I'm up against the speaker
Tryna take on the music
It's like a competition
wanna get in the beat
I wanna get IN THE ZONE
I wanna get IN THE ZONE
If you really wanna battle
Saddle up n get the rhythm
Try to hit it
Chic-a-taa
In a minute Im'a' tak you on
Im'a' taka you on
Hey, hey, hey!
CHORUS
All my people on the floor
Let me see you dance
All my people wanting more
Let me see you dance
All my people round and round
Let me see you dance
All my people in the crowd
Let me see you dance
I wanna see you
how would you like a friendly competition?
Let's take on the song
Let's take on the song
It's you and me baby we're the music

[...] Read more

song performed by Britney Spears
Added by Lucian Velea
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Run, Run, Run

I was sitting in the field, feeling the grass.
Counting the stars as they come out.
Feeling (feeling) the breeze, (feeling the breeze)
Feeling (feeling) the spring. (feeling the spring)
Suddenly I noticed there wasnt light anymore.
Run, run, run, run, run to the light,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
I tumbled on roots, stumbled on stones.
Lost my marbles, stepped on my glasses.
Feeling (feeling) the air, (feeling the air)
Feeling (feeling) the wind. (feeling the wind)
Suddenly I noticed it wasnt fun anymore.
Run, run, run, run, run towards the light,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
I came out of the darkness into the house,
The lights were left on but nobody around.
Feeling (feeling) the room, (feeling the room)
Feeling (feeling) the space. (feeling the space)
Suddenly I noticed it wasnt spring anymore.
Run, run, run, run, run through your life,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
Run, run, run, run, run through your life,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
Run -
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
Run, run.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Run, Run, Run

I was sitting in the field, feeling the grass.
Counting the stars as they come out.
Feeling (feeling) the breeze, (feeling the breeze)
Feeling (feeling) the spring. (feeling the spring)
Suddenly I noticed there wasnt light anymore.
Run, run, run, run, run to the light,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
I tumbled on roots, stumbled on stones.
Lost my marbles, stepped on my glasses.
Feeling (feeling) the air, (feeling the air)
Feeling (feeling) the wind. (feeling the wind)
Suddenly I noticed it wasnt fun anymore.
Run, run, run, run, run towards the light,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
I came out of the darkness into the house,
The lights were left on but nobody around.
Feeling (feeling) the room, (feeling the room)
Feeling (feeling) the space. (feeling the space)
Suddenly I noticed it wasnt spring anymore.
Run, run, run, run, run through your life,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
Run, run, run, run, run through your life,
Run, run, run, run, run for your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
Run -
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
Run, run.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run through your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)
For your life.
(run, run, run, run, run for your life)

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Third Book

'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.

For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!

Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.

Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Saturday Night

(chuck cannon/jimmy stewart)
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y
I gotta get out of these coveralls
Theyre throwin a dance at the union hall
I just got paid so I got a little cash
I been workin all week gonna have me a blast
Monday, tuesday, humpday, wednesday, thursday, friday
Take up all of my life, and that aint right
I get my rest on sunday
But I have a little fun on saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y
Im gonna wash and wax my truck
I got a date with lady luck
She gonna wear her dancin shoes
And we gonna get just a little footloose
Monday, tuesday, humpday, wednesday, thursday, friday
Take up all of my life, and that aint right
I get my rest on sunday
Then I have a little fun on saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night
Well the band just played their last song
But me and my baby gonna party on, you know thats right
Gonna find another place with a neon light
Cant go home its saturday night
Monday, tuesday, humpday, wednesday, thursday, friday
Take up all of my life, and that aint right
I take my rest on sunday
Then I have a lot of fun on saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r. all dressed up saturday night
S.a.t.u.r. ready saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y all dressed up, ready to go, come on baby lets hit the road

song performed by Lonestar
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lady Madonna

Lady madonna, children at your feet
Wonder how you manage to make ends meet
Who finds the money, when you pay the rent
Did you think that money was heaven sent
Friday night arrives without a suitcase
Sunday morning creeping like a nun
Mondays child has learned to tie his boot lace
See how they run!
Lady madonna, baby at your breast
Wonder how you manage to feed the rest
(sax solo)
See how the run!
Lady madonna, lyin on the bed
Listen to the music playing in your head
Tuesday afternoon is never ending
Wednesday morning paper didnt come
Thursday night your stockings needed mending
See how the run!
Lady madonna, children at your feet
Wonder how you manage to make ends meet

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hurricane Cindy

What's that piece of ass i see walking over here?
What's that piece of ass to me, who is she standing near?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotion inside me
They go rolling inside me
Hold me close and never let me go
All my life i've wanted you to know
A few things 'bout me
I feel beautiful today
Lovely, beautiful
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
Saturday, saturday, what's on the heel?
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
What's on the heel, what's on the heel?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotion inside me
They go rolling inside me
Put it on the stereo and play
All my life i've wanted you to say
A few things 'bout me
I feel beautiful today
Lovely, beautiful
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
Saturday, saturday, what's on the heel?
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
What's on the heel, what's on the heel?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotions inside me
They go rolling inside me
And when i walk it's a riot
You should see the commotion
A hundred people drowning in oceans inside me
They go rolling inside me
Inside me
Inside me
"that's for cindy crawford.

song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Saturday Night

Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
Yes she did, well come to bed and turn out the light
She's sleeping there, she's dreaming through her life
Yes she is
Well you know you've done no wrong
All you done is sing this song
You sing this song, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, wooh
That's when the bad man meets his fate
Sitting there, you're feeling only second rate
You're sorry now, you've come a little bit too late
Yes you did
But when you come around
You only bring you down
You feel a clown, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, yeah
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
You know she said, you've got to see the coming light
You know you are, you're riding through your life
Yes you are
Well you know you've done your best
All you need's a little rest
You've done your best, yes
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite

song performed by Journey
Added by Lucian Velea
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