Stinkin Thinkin
Kiss me for old times sake kiss me for making you wait kiss me for old times sake kiss me for making you wait kiss me for screwing everything in site kiss me for never getting it right kiss me
Dnight Ive got to pick out whats in the pocket so I can leave these pockets clean Ive got to pick out whats in the pocket so I can leave that pocket clean an I know that I will always want yo
Theres not much that I can do Im sweet, will always have to do rewind and give me a good clue an I know how your mind works open your eyes and watch the roadworks come on out it cant get much
E sit right down quench your big thirst Im tied down with stinkin thinkin stinkin thinkin gets you nowhere Im weighed down with stinkin thinkin stinkin thinkin comes from somewhere is that reall
T you really what hey?
Would you like to see me living that way the living dead dont get a holiday open your eyes, see the real world come on down, cant get much worse come right down quench your big thirst lie right
Drink your nightnurse kiss me for old times sake kiss me for making a big mistake kiss me for always being late kiss me for making you wait kiss me for screwing everything in site kiss me for g
G it not right kiss me..goodnight Im tied down Im weighed down with stinking thinkin stinkin thinkin gets me nowhere Im tied down with stinkin thinkin stinkin thinkin comes from somewhere stea
B in a small town guaranteed to bring me right down guaranteed to take me nowhere guaranteed to make me lose my hair
song performed by Happy Mondays
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Banquet Of Love
I once heard these words in a song;
'You must remember this...a kiss is
just a kiss...a sigh is just a sigh, ' etc.
With you...nothing...nothing, could be
further from the truth.
Your kiss, is a ride among the stars,
a shower of moon beams and a
sailboat ride, in the Garden Of Eden.
Kissing you...is an out of body experience,
a transport to paradise and a creation
of ultimate passion and joy.
Kissing, every part of who you are, is
truly a banquet of love.
Let me feast of your love and of your lips,
for I am in love with you. Let me always
kiss your mouth...eyes...all of you.
Let us ride the feathers of angels, through
starlit nights-holding...kissing, for now...
and evermore.
Your kiss...touch...embrace, has captured
my heart...my very soul.
I send you this kiss...for the lips
I can not do without.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss *..........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*.. .*Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*
.........* Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.. .......*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kis s*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
[...] Read more
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
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Kisses For You...
I once heard these words in a song;
'You must remember this...a kiss is
just a kiss...a sigh is just a sigh, ' etc.
With you...nothing...nothing, could be
further from the truth.
Your kiss, is a ride among the stars,
a shower of moon beams and a
sailboat ride, in the Garden Of Eden.
Kissing you...is an out of body experience,
a transport to paradise and a creation
of ultimate passion and joy.
Kissing, every part of who you are, is
truly a banquet of love.
Let me feast of your love and of your lips,
for I am in love with you. Let me always
kiss your mouth...eyes...all of you.
Let us ride the feathers of angels, through
starlit nights-holding...kissing, for now...
and evermore.
Your kiss...touch...embrace, has captured
my heart...my very soul.
I send you this kiss...for the lips
I can not do without.
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss *..........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*.. .*Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*
.........* Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.. .......*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kis s*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
[...] Read more
poem by Joe Fazio
Added by Poetry Lover
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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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Color
Performed by the steeles
Composed by prince
Color me black if u color me just like u
Color me angry if u color me less than I do
(whoa, whats your color? )
Yeah, whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
Color me happy if u teach me what I need 2 know
Color me gone if u dont, if u dont cuz every child needs 2 grow
This I know
(whoa, whats your color? )
Oh, whats your color, yeah?
I wanna know
(whoa, whats your color? )
Oh, whats your color?
Listen (listen)
Love is my color when Im shown love in return
But when I am not, its a bet u can guess what I have learned
Whats my color?
Hey
Color me green (color me green) if I cannot have what uve got
Color me blue (blue) until I do cuz the fire will shonuff be hot
Yes it will
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Hey yeah
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Oh, make me a promise (make me a promise)
Oh, make me a promise (that whatever u color me) that whatever u color me
U will at least color me then I can color u 2
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Hey
Color
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color, yeah?
Whats your color?
Make it love
Whats your color?
Mine is love
(whoa, whats your color? ) yeah
(whoa, whats your color? )
Whats your color?
(whoa, whats your color? )
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Digging Real Deep
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch or a feel of return.
And a lesson's not learned,
That...
A deposit made to dip,
For tasty lips...
Took too many dips,
To withdrawn the end of it.
And there will be no return...
You put that last deposit in your pocket,
And then you split...
With it.
You put that last deposit in your pocket,
And then you split...
With it.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch or a feel of return.
And a lesson's not learned,
That...
A deposit made to dip,
For tasty lips...
Took too many dips,
To withdrawn the end of it.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
IS...
Digging real deep.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
IS...
Digging real deep
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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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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Russian Girl
Ive been frozen, now its so hot I can barely see
Ive been cutting them down so they cant make fun of me, yeah
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Young child sitting all alone
Hot child, she wants to take you home
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Russian girl, Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
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Whats Mine Is Mine
Key:-
A - anita
R - ray
A: oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
Oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
Oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
My property, my property
A: oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
Oh, oh, all right; oh, oh, allright
R: whats mine is mine hold theres the line
Stop following me from the back all of the time
Theres one of me, one of a kind
Sorry Im first, excuse me do you mind
You wanna be the same and put me out of frame
I got my own style, so you must be insane
Yes theres something else you can find
So dont touch mine, whats mine is mine
A: why do you want to be like me?
Why do you want whats mine?
You know this is my property, babe, youre losing this time
You are wasting time and energy cause you just cant take whats mine
You better save your time and energy gotta get it out of your mind
Whats mine is mine!
R: step back, step back
A: whats mine is mine
Whats mine is mine
Youre wasting your time
R: step back, step back
A: whats mine is mine
Oh, oh, all right
R: dont waste your time and energy
Cause nobody in the world can be like me
Youre looking for something I already found
A smoother move, a better sound
Represent yourself as me, myself, and i
Make your own plan, come on and try!
Ideas nowadays are hard to find
But dont touch mine whats mine is mine!
A: why do you want to be like me?
Why do you want whats mine?
You know this is my property, babe, youre losing this time
You are wasting time and energy cause you just cant take whats mine
You better save your time and energy gotta get it out of your mind
Whats mine is mine!
A: oh....
R: whats mine is mine
Whats mine is mine
A: oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right
My property, my property, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right, oh, oh, all right
R: whats mine is mine
[...] Read more
song performed by 2 Unlimited
Added by Lucian Velea
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Coltrane
Wakin' up at nine
Looks at his paper
Can't deal with what he sees
All the troubled lives
The talk of the ages
He's crawling back to bed
Don't take a walk outside
Don't make any new friends
He's crawling back to bed
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
Callin' all his friends
He's known 'em for ages
Can't deal with what they say
Connective alibis
Cold and contagious
He's crawling back to bed
So cut off the phone lines
Stock up on water
He's crawling back to bed
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know what I'm doing
You'd better convince me man
'Cause I, I don't know who I'm screwing
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
You'd better convince me man
Yessir
song performed by Gomez
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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Youre Gonna Get Whats Coming
(robert palmer)
You came up on me like a landslide
Once in awhile I get taken like that
And I like it
Ive got a thunderbird parked right outside
Give me a minute to finish this thing
And well light it.
In all this heat its a job keeping cool
Oh yeah
And I could fry an egg on you
You came up on me like a landslide
Once in awhile I get taken like that
And I like it
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youve been asking for it two days running
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youre gonna get whats coming to you
I hope that youre half as intrepid
As you make out
More often than not, Ill bet
You never got what you asked for
Keep on pouring until you hear me shout
And turn up the sound
If you want me to drive any faster
Caution went out when you walked in the room
If it never came back it would be too soon
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youve been asking for it two days running
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youre gonna get whats coming to you
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youve been asking for it two days running
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youre gonna get whats coming to you
You came up on me like a landslide
Once in awhile I get taken like that
And I like it
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youve been asking for it two days running
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youre gonna get whats coming to you
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youve been asking for it two days running
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youre gonna get whats coming to you
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youve been asking for it two days running
Youre gonna get whats coming
Youre gonna get whats coming to you
Youre gonna get whats coming
[...] Read more
song performed by Robert Palmer
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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III. The Other Half-Rome
Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!
There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Charity Begins At Home
A shake of the tin
The money drops in, but is it a sin
Youre standing in rags
Youre selling your flags
But who gets the dough at the end of the day
We saw your drop-dead fancy wheels
Your little house up on the hill
But when your conscience pricks
A little sacrifice sweetens the pill
So keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
We take to the stage
The audience rave, were doing our bit
A heavenly cast, a blast from the past
Theres a song to be sung, will it make number one
We wanna see your money roll
But our eyes are on the hall of fame
'cos business is business
And hits are the name of the game
So keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
Everywhere that we turn
There are mouths to be fed
How can we sleep
The battle goes on while were
Safe in our beds
So dont turn away
No dont turn away
Your doors are locked
You switch on the box to take in a show
You think that youre safe
But here comes that face
And wouldnt you know its that message again
They want to take your plastic cash
Your hand reaches out to the phone
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
Everywhere that we turn
There are mouths to be fed
How can we sleep
The battle goes on while were
Safe in our beds
[...] Read more
song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Clean Up The World
Clean Up The World
Where have we gone?
We’ve drifted away
Too many years
Nothin’ to say
Too many years
Intentional lies
Too many years
Collegiate-laundered hipplets
Drivin’ us to demise
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Along came McRonald
We got in its way
Too many years
Puppeteers played
Too many years
Stealing us blind
Too many years
Of totalitarians smothering us from the right
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Their Wall Street money’s been holdin’ us fast
Ideals shallow and vain
They sell us all just to make it last
Revolution of ‘89 today
We got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Self-centered cosmos
Material gain
Too many years
Deflecting their blame
Too many years
Stuffin’ their cart
Too many years
Deceit inside the head
Instead of love in their heart
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
[...] Read more
poem by Will Fiala
Added by Poetry Lover
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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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Nicky Nicky Nicky Nicky Nicky Nick Pick
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
All you like to do is nitpick my wrongs.
With that constant picking that you see fit.
But only you brood sucking your thumb.
Without that finger licking that you want done!
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone!
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone,
With a finger licking done like you've won!
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
With no sleep there you're reaping.
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone,
With a finger licking done like you've won!
Nicky nicky nicky nicky nicky nick pick,
Pick bones...
That's all you really want to do,
Pick bones...
Pick over bones that's gone,
With a finger licking done like you've won!
You can't win the war and the battle cause,
That struggle is in your head.
And kept there seven days a week.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Got To Get Away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
I was afraid I kept my feelings inside
We shared our love and the thing
But in the end you took a ride
You didnt come back to me I shut my tears along
It crushed my heart causeyou are never coming home
Emotions swept away to nothing at all
Those were the days that I was loosing control
You got me burning it will never get the same
You just let me standing in the rain.
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Emotions swept away
Im loosing control
Youve got me burning up
Ive got to let you go
Emotions swept away
Im loosing control
Youve got me burning up
Ive got to let you go
Ive got to get away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
song performed by Alice Deejay
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Made Okay To Do It Your Way
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You complained,
That you couldn't take the weight.
And a waiting too late makes it okay.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Whats It Take
(robert palmer)
Youre lonely can I see you
I hire a private red-eye rocket
But when I walk in here
You wanna go through all my pockets
Whats it take?
Mamma whats it take?
Ive known you all these years
And still you overhaul my letters
They dont confirm your fears
But when Im dead youll know me better
Whats it take?
Mamma whats it take?
My mistake was thinking I had it covered
I havent made the first move
Whats it take to get it through to you mamma?
What does it take to love you?
I take you out to dinner
You ask me why Im acting guilty
I thought Id backed a winner
This love affair is gonna kill me
Whats it take?
Mamma whats it take?
You say youre only teasing
I wanna try a new position
You wanna know the reason
Ive got a spanish inquisition
Whats it take?
Mamma whats it take?
My mistake was thinking I had it covered
I havent made the first move
Whats it take to get it through to you mamma?
What does it take to love you?
I wanna hear the gossip
You say I like a real ambition
I ask you if youve got it
You document my inhibitions
Whats it take?
Mamma whats it take?
Mamma whats it take?
Whats it take?
song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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