All The Good Ones Are Gone
(dean dillon/bob mcdill)
(track 2 - time 3:16)
Shell turn thirty-four this weekend
Shell go out with her girlfriends
Theyll drink some margaritas, cut up and carry on
Therell be guys and therell be come ons
Shell probably get hit on
But she thinks all the good ones are gone
Shes got friends down at the office
And she cant help but notice
That when the day is over
How they all hurry home
Every day theres guys she works with
And even some she flirts with
But it seems like all the good ones are gone
And her mama called this mornin
Said Im worried about my baby
I wish you had a family of your own
She said mom its not that easy
You make it sound so simple
But you cant take the first man that comes along
Once she had someone who loved her
Back when she was younger
Now she wonders if she held out
A little bit too long
Back then there were so many
Now there just arent any
It seems like all the good ones are gone
And her mama called this mornin
Said Im worried about my baby
I wish you had a family of your own
She said mom its not that easy
You make it sound so simple
But you cant take the first man that comes along
Shell turn thirty-four this weekend
Shell go out with her girlfriends
Theyll drink some margaritas, cut up and carry on
song performed by Pam Tillis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Book Of The Duchesse
THE PROEM
I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
How that I live, for day ne nighte
I may nat slepe wel nigh noght,
I have so many an ydel thoght
Purely for defaute of slepe
That, by my trouthe, I take no kepe
Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,
Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.
Al is y-liche good to me --
Ioye or sorowe, wherso hyt be --
For I have feling in no-thinge,
But, as it were, a mased thing,
Alway in point to falle a-doun;
For sorwful imaginacioun
Is alway hoolly in my minde.
And wel ye wite, agaynes kynde
Hit were to liven in this wyse;
For nature wolde nat suffyse
To noon erthely creature
Not longe tyme to endure
Withoute slepe, and been in sorwe;
And I ne may, ne night ne morwe,
Slepe; and thus melancolye
And dreed I have for to dye,
Defaute of slepe and hevinesse
Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse,
That I have lost al lustihede.
Suche fantasies ben in myn hede
So I not what is best to do.
But men myght axe me, why soo
I may not slepe, and what me is?
But natheles, who aske this
Leseth his asking trewely.
My-selven can not telle why
The sooth; but trewely, as I gesse,
I holde hit be a siknesse
That I have suffred this eight yere,
And yet my bote is never the nere;
For ther is phisicien but oon,
That may me hele; but that is doon.
Passe we over until eft;
That wil not be, moot nede be left;
Our first matere is good to kepe.
So whan I saw I might not slepe,
Til now late, this other night,
Upon my bedde I sat upright
And bad oon reche me a book,
A romaunce, and he hit me took
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Cleanness
Clannesse who so kyndly cowþe comende
& rekken vp alle þe resounz þat ho by ri3t askez,
Fayre formez my3t he fynde in for[þ]ering his speche
& in þe contrare kark & combraunce huge.
For wonder wroth is þe Wy3þat wro3t alle þinges
Wyth þe freke þat in fylþe fol3es Hym after,
As renkez of relygioun þat reden & syngen
& aprochen to hys presens & prestez arn called;
Thay teen vnto his temmple & temen to hym seluen,
Reken with reuerence þay rychen His auter;
Þay hondel þer his aune body & vsen hit boþe.
If þay in clannes be clos þay cleche gret mede;
Bot if þay conterfete crafte & cortaysye wont,
As be honest vtwyth & inwith alle fylþez,
Þen ar þay synful hemself & sulped altogeder
Boþe God & His gere, & hym to greme cachen.
He is so clene in His courte, þe Kyng þat al weldez,
& honeste in His housholde & hagherlych serued
With angelez enourled in alle þat is clene,
Boþ withine & withouten in wedez ful bry3t;
Nif he nere scoymus & skyg & non scaþe louied,
Hit were a meruayl to much, hit mo3t not falle.
Kryst kydde hit Hymself in a carp onez,
Þeras He heuened a3t happez & hy3t hem her medez.
Me mynez on one amonge oþer, as Maþew recordez,
Þat þus clanness vnclosez a ful cler speche:
Þe haþel clene of his hert hapenez ful fayre,
For he schal loke on oure Lorde with a bone chere';
As so saytz, to þat sy3t seche schal he neuer
Þat any vnclannesse hatz on, auwhere abowte;
For He þat flemus vch fylþe fer fro His hert
May not byde þat burre þat hit His body ne3en.
Forþy hy3not to heuen in haterez totorne,
Ne in þe harlatez hod, & handez vnwaschen.
For what vrþly haþel þat hy3honour haldez
Wolde lyke if a ladde com lyþerly attyred,
When he were sette solempnely in a sete ryche,
Abof dukez on dece, with dayntys serued?
Þen þe harlot with haste helded to þe table,
With rent cokrez at þe kne & his clutte traschez,
& his tabarde totorne, & his totez oute,
Oþer ani on of alle þyse, he schulde be halden vtter,
With mony blame ful bygge, a boffet peraunter,
Hurled to þe halle dore & harde þeroute schowued,
& be forboden þat bor3e to bowe þider neuer,
On payne of enprysonment & puttyng in stokkez;
& þus schal he be schent for his schrowde feble,
Þa3neuer in talle ne in tuch he trespas more.
& if vnwelcum he were to a worþlych prynce,
3et hym is þe hy3e Kyng harder in her euen;
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Steamheaters
She wants a love...
She can take into her arms.
Hold her with her charms.
And sing love songs,
To allure
And captivate!
Heating...
Without setting off the alarm!
He wants a love...
No other one has had.
When it is 'his' booty...
He likes it slow not fast!
And he's glad no one has had,
To touch his booty's ass!
If that has to happen,
He knew he would be sad!
And...
'What' they want...
Maybe a bit too soon.
They need more memory moments.
Before beginning to cast eyes on that 'fullmoon'!
As they lay naked on the basement floor...
Sighing and grinding in lovebird swoons!
'WHAT? '
Steamheaters drip...
Just 'getting it'!
They both are wet,
From the basement water!
Steamheaters kiss...
With sexiness.
He sucked her tits,
'Til her husband caught her,
With his best friend...
'getin' it! '
'Uh...
For clarification,
Will you say that again, please? '
You want it sung?
'No,
I just want it heard.
I may have misunderstood!
What I thought your blurted,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Lies About Tall Guys
Just seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys seem to get executive jobs
Shorter guys work mostly as clerks
Taller guys never seem to be slobs
Shorter guys always seem to be jerks
Taller guys seem to get all of the action
Shorter guys seem to be quite invisible
Taller guys always seem to deserve satisfaction
Shorter guys are lonely and miserable
Just seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys just seem born to play sports
Shorter guys kinda seem to like tennis
Taller guys certainly look better in shorts
Shorter guys look like Dennis the Menace
Taller guys are usually at the top of their class
Shorter guys seem to fail quite a lot
Taller guys always seem to kick ass
Shorter guys want to, but simply cannot
sure seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys get better grades and such
Shorter guys seem to barely scrape by
Taller guys seem to do better, pretty much
Shorter guys always wonder why
Taller guys seem to have eyes like a hawk
Shorter guys seem to wear glasses a lot
Taller guys cover more ground when they walk
Shorter guys, to keep up, have to trot
Sure seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys and their friends look like N.B.A players
Shorter guys look more like cheerleaders
Taller guys seem to look like dragon slayers
Shorter guys look a lot more like bleeders
[...] Read more
poem by David Whalen
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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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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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Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift, D.S.P.D.
As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew
From Nature, I believe 'em true:
They argue no corrupted mind
In him; the fault is in mankind.
This maxim more than all the rest
Is thought too base for human breast:
'In all distresses of our friends,
We first consult our private ends;
While Nature, kindly bent to ease us,
Points out some circumstance to please us.'
If this perhaps your patience move,
Let reason and experience prove.
We all behold with envious eyes
Our equal rais'd above our size.
Who would not at a crowded show
Stand high himself, keep others low?
I love my friend as well as you
But would not have him stop my view.
Then let him have the higher post:
I ask but for an inch at most.
If in a battle you should find
One, whom you love of all mankind,
Had some heroic action done,
A champion kill'd, or trophy won;
Rather than thus be overtopt,
Would you not wish his laurels cropt?
Dear honest Ned is in the gout,
Lies rack'd with pain, and you without:
How patiently you hear him groan!
How glad the case is not your own!
What poet would not grieve to see
His brethren write as well as he?
But rather than they should excel,
He'd wish his rivals all in hell.
Her end when emulation misses,
She turns to envy, stings and hisses:
The strongest friendship yields to pride,
Unless the odds be on our side.
Vain human kind! fantastic race!
Thy various follies who can trace?
Self-love, ambition, envy, pride,
Their empire in our hearts divide.
Give others riches, power, and station,
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Swift
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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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Weekend Love
[Queen Latifah]
Weekend love
Gonna spend a weekend love
Weekend love
Just a case of weekend love
[Queen Latifah]
Have you been misled
Anything I said
Didn't mean to turn you on
The bite is oh so strong
You got things to do
But I have got things too
So I'll catch you on the weekend
Mondays to Fridays I don't see you then
[Unknown Reggae Artist]
A W-E-E-K and a E-N-D
And a L-O-V-E we were meant to be
A W-E-E-K, a E-N-D
L-O-V-E we were meant to be
[Queen Latifah]
Weekend love
Gonna spend a weekend love
Weekend love
Just a case of weekend love
[Queen Latifah]
Seems it's been so long
Since you thrilled me with your charms
I tenderly imagine me
Resting in your arms
You've got things to do
And I have got things too
So I'll catch you on the weekend
Mondays to Fridays, I don't see you then
[Unknown Reggae Artist]
Because we're sorry when we part
And we love when we meet
I know we only do that ?
Once in a week
Sorry when we part
And we love when we meet
I know we only do that ?
Once in a week
[Unknown Reggae Artist]
I know, you know
We all occupied
From our own love life
This has been denied
Many feelins high
Many tears of pride
But by the weekend
[...] Read more
song performed by Queen Latifah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hit Me With A Rock
When I was a little boy
(when I was just a boy)
And my mother would call my name
(when I was just a boy)
Shed say I had to be in the house by seven
(when I was just a boy)
But Id stay out late at night
(when I was just a boy)
And when Id finally get back in
Oh, I know shed hit me, shed hit me
Shed sit me on her knees and whip me
Oh, shed hit me with a rock
Shed whip me with a rock, oh baby
Shed hit me (hit me with a rock)
Shed hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
And when I was grown to be a man
(grown to be a man)
The minute the boss would call my name
(grown to be a man)
And say I had to be in the office by seven
(grown to be a man)
Im a constipated man
(grown to be a man)
And when Id finally get back in
Oh, my bossd hit me, hed hit me
Hed tie me to a chair and whip me
Oh hed hit me with a rock
Hed whip me with a rock, oh baby
Hed hit me (hit me with a rock)
Hed hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
When I was grown to be president
(was the president)
The minute the congressd call my name
(was the president)
And said some papers had to be signed by thursday
(had to be signed by thursday)
Id fly away to pakistan
(was the president)
And the second that Id get back home
Oh, I know theyd hit me, theyd hit me
With leather and chains theyd whip me
Oh, theyd hit me with a rock
Theyd whip me with a rock, oh baby
Theyd hit me. (hit me with a rock)
Theyd hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
Hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cut You Down To Size
Dont you know theyre gonna cut you down to size
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
Youre gonna find out when you see it right in their eyes
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
And they cut you down, yeah they cut you down
They cut you down to size
How does it feel
Whatd you do with this fire inside
Where do you turn now that you realize
Where you go when you run out of alibis
Tell me
Dont you know theyre gonna cut you down to size
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
Youre gonna find out when you see it right in their eyes
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
And they cut you down to, they cut you down to
They cut you down to size
How does it feel
How does it feel
Youve been living with your own suspicion
Now youve got to believe
I know youve heard it said that only the strong survive
Dont you know theyre gonna cut you down to size
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
Youre gonna find out when you see it right in their eyes
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
(they cut you down yeah theyll cut you down)
And they cut you down to size
Dont you know theyre gonna
How does it feel when you see through your disguise
And they cut you down to, cut you down to
Cut you down to size
Get up stand up, come back for another round
And they cut you down to size
Cut you down to size
song performed by Starship
Added by Lucian Velea
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Afrikaans: Sterregordels, Stilsonjare, Tydsbroekspypdinge, Haarsliert
Sterregordels
Cosmology in Afrikaans is an ode to joy, the
terms form sing-song strings with delightful
sounds “ewigbewegende elektron”
continuously spinning electron
“elektron in die hart van die atoomkorrel”
electron in the centre of the atom particle
- what a song!
“Triljoene Melkwegstelsels waaromheen ons
Melkweg elke tweehonderdmiljoenjaar
wentel – ‘n mallemeule van sterregordels…”
“Dobberende patrone, mesone en elektrone,
'n konfigurasie van konvekse novae”…
- these terms are singing to me!
A merry-go-round of star systems
Quotes from Adriaan Snyman “Die Messias Kode” (The Messiah Code) pp.9,10
Bombardement Van Frekwensies (English Explanation)
Waarmee sal ek hierdie leë oomblikke,
ankerloos, betekenisloos; aan die ewigheid
vasmaak - die gevoelsruimte in my hart
Is leeg, alle gevoel en denke het gesamentlik
in die donker duisternis van my brein ingeval
‘n laserbrein wat die hologramwêreld
Self moet konsituteer uit ‘n bombardement
van betekenislose frekwensies – maar
vandag is die ligstraalfokus uit
My pendulumgedagtes swaai ongefokus rond
die opgerolde, ingevoude ses-en-twintig of
meer dimensies van die virtuele werklikheid
Wil nie vir my oopgaan nie…
All thought and feeling fell into the black hole in my brain and the twenty-six or more rolled-up frequencies of reality does not want to open for me today…
Geloof In Liefde - Faith In Love
[...] Read more
poem by Margaret Alice
Added by Poetry Lover
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Athena
Athena, I had no idea how much Id need her
Athena, I had no idea how much Id need her
In peaceful times I hold her close and I feed her
In peaceful times I hold her close and I feed her
My heart starts palpitating when I think my guess was wrong
My heart starts palpitating when I think my guess was wrong
But I think Ill get along
But I think Ill get along
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Athena, all I ever want to do is please her
Athena, all I ever want to do is please her
My life has been so settled and shes the reason
My life has been so settled and shes the reason
Just one word from her and my troubles are long gone
Just one word from her and my troubles are long gone
But I think Ill get along
But I think Ill get along
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Just a girl just a girl
Shes just a girl
Shes just a girl
Athena, my heart felt like a shattered glass in an acid bath
Athena, my heart felt like a shattered glass in an acid bath
I felt like one of those flattened ants you find on a crazy path
I felt like one of those flattened ants you find on a crazy path
Id of topped myself to give her time she didnt need to ask
Id of topped myself to give her time she didnt need to ask
Was I a suicidal psychopath?
Was I a suicidal psychopath?
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Consumed, there was a beautiful white horse I saw on a dream stage
Consumed, there was a beautiful white horse I saw on a dream stage
He had a snake the size of a sewer pipe living in his rib cage
He had a snake the size of a sewer pipe living in his rib cage
I felt like a pickled priest who was being flambed
I felt like a pickled priest who was being flambed
You were requisitioned blondie
You were requisitioned blondie
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Shes just a girl - shes a bomb
Im happy, Im ecstatic
Im happy, Im ecstatic
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Theyll Need A Crane
Love sees loves happiness
But happiness cant see that love is sad
That love is sad
Sadness is hanging there
To show love somewhere something needs a change
They need a change
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break its gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain
Lads gal is all he has
Gals gladness hangs upon the love of lad
The love of lad
Some things gal says to lad arent meant as bad
But cause a little pain
They cause him pain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break its gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain
Dont call me at work again no no the boss still hates me
Im just tired and I dont love you anymore
And theres a restaurant we should check out where
The other nightmare people like to go
I mean nice people, baby wait,
I didnt mean to say nightmare
Lad looks at other gals
Gal thinks jim beam is handsomer than lad
He isnt bad
Call off the wedding band
Nobody wants to hear that one again
Play that again
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break its gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane, theyll need a crane
Theyll need a crane
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rainy Day Women #12 35
Well, theyll stone ya when youre trying to be so good,
Theyll stone ya just a-like they said they would.
Theyll stone ya when youre tryin to go home.
Then theyll stone ya when youre there all alone.
But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, theyll stone ya when youre walkin long the street.
Theyll stone ya when youre tryin to keep your seat.
Theyll stone ya when youre walkin on the floor.
Theyll stone ya when youre walkin to the door.
But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Theyll stone ya when youre at the breakfast table.
Theyll stone ya when you are young and able.
Theyll stone ya when youre tryin to make a buck.
Theyll stone ya and then theyll say, good luck.
Tell ya what, I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, theyll stone you and say that its the end.
Then theyll stone you and then theyll come back again.
Theyll stone you when youre riding in your car.
Theyll stone you when youre playing your guitar.
Yes, but I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, theyll stone you when you walk all alone.
Theyll stone you when you are walking home.
Theyll stone you and then say you are brave.
Theyll stone you when you are set down in your grave.
But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Help Me Ronda
Well since she put me down I 've been out doin' in my head
Come in late at night and in the mornin' I just lay in bed
Well, Ronda you look so fine (look so fine)
And I know it wouldn't take much time
For you to help me Ronda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda yeah
Get her out of my heart
She was gonna be my wife
And I was gonna be her man
But she let another guy come between us
And it ruined our plan
Well, Ronda you caught my eye (caught my eye)
And I can give you lotsa reasons why
You gotta help me Ronda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda yeah
Get her out of my heart
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Help Me, Rhonda
Well since she put me down Ive been out doin in my head
Come in late at night and in the mornin I just lay in bed
Well, rhonda you look so fine (look so fine)
And I know it wouldnt take much time
For you to help me rhonda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart
She was gonna be my wife
And I was gonna be her man
But she let another guy come between us
And it ruined our plan
Well, rhonda you caught my eye (caught my eye)
And I can give you lotsa reasons why
You gotta help me rhonda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
1, 2, 3 'o' clock 4 'o' clock ROCK
5, 6, 7 'o' clock 8 'o' clock ROCK
9, 10, 11 'o' clock 12 'o' clock ROCK
Gonna ROCK (What?) ROCK, ROCK around the clock
Three years ago in St. Albans, Queens
I was rockin at a park called one eighteen
Little kids stood and watched as I rocked the spot
Didn't know that years later I'll be standin on top
Livin near Farmers Boulevard I was born and base-shaw
Stopped the rich and shaked hands with the poor
And this is a story about a brother I know
Cut Creator on the fader no watch him go
[Chorus]
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
When back in the days before I clocked some dough
I used to go to the show and sit in the front row
Hopin and prayin one day I'll get on the road
So I had a feeler and a summer and I meet when I'm stoned
Not fearin a thought, got stung like a horse
Don't make fun of my posse, cause each man is a boss
When his only damn way to pull a jam out the crate
One time for your mind
Check out the guitar break
[Chorus]
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go, go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
Go Cut Creator Go
[LL Cool J]
This jam just wasn't enough for Jimmy Hendrix to see
He could do lessons of mixin take you under his wing
Straight from the heart cause it ain't the money that we came here for
Ain't no thoughts in the room ain't breakin no roles
And in the Rock 'n' Roll land, a big strivin plan
Just my posse learn the vocals what little they had
It's all about us three: Eve, Phil & Jay
He heard Cut Creator cut now check it out to play
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Percys Song
Bad news, bad news,
Come to me where I sleep,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Sayin one of your friends
Is in trouble deep,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Tell me the trouble,
Tell once to my ear,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Joliet prison
And ninety-nine years,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Oh whats the charge
Of how this came to be,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Manslaughter
In the highest of degree,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
I sat down and wrote
The best words I could write,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Explaining to the judge
Id be there on wednesday night,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Without a reply,
I left by the moon,
Turn, turn, turn again.
And was in his chambers
By the next afternoon,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Could ya tell me the facts?
I said without fear,
Turn, turn, turn again.
That a friend of mine
Would get ninety-nine years,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
A crash on the highway
Flew the car to a field,
Turn, turn, turn again.
There was four persons killed
And he was at the wheel,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
But I knew him as good
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Dylan
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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