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The Checks In The Mail

Well, hey how ya doin have a seat have a drink
Boy its good to see you, what can I say?
Oh, sorry gotta run well get together again
Say, what was your name anyway?
Well were working on the problem well get back to you soon
But dont try to call me Ill be in a meeting every afternoon
For a year maybe longer keep in touch
Thanks for dropping by and have a nice day
(chorus)
The checks in the mail - hey! youre beautiful
Dont ever change you know what I mean
My girl will call your girl
Well talk it through lunch
Or leave a message on my machine
So baby wont you sign on the dotted line
Im gonna make your dreams come true
The checks in the mail, would I lie to you?
Well hey wait a minute whats the matter hold on
You want me to fork over the loot?
You say you hate my guts you wanna take me to court

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song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Lord of the Isles: Canto VI.

I.
O who, that shared them, ever shall forget
The emotions of the spirit-rousing time,
When breathless in the mart the couriers met,
Early and late, at evening and at prime;
When the loud cannon and the merry chime
Hail'd news on news, as field on field was won,
When Hope, long doubtful, soar'd at length sublime,
And our glad eyes, awake as day begun,
Watch'd Joy's broad banner rise, to meet the rising sun!
O these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid
A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears!
The heart-sick faintness of the hope delay'd,
The waste, the woe, the bloodshed, and the tears,
That track'd with terror twenty rolling years,
All was forgot in that blithe jubilee!
Her downcast eye even pale Affliction rears,
To sigh a thankful prayer, amid the glee,
That hail'd the Despot's fall, and peace and liberty!

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poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Fanmail

Dear Sirs,
To whom is may concern
theres facts id like to learn
so many things i wanna know
especially trivial info paraphernalia
badges and regalia please send me everything
Cuz I
am interested in you
and everything you do
i find myself at all your shows
could you tell me were you buy your clothes
could you sign my little sisters face
put your signature any place and please send me a bio
Cuz we've got fan mail
we really really read it
Fan Mail
we really really read it
I sent you my letter now i want a reply
you dont know any better than you wont take your time
with my Fan Mail

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song performed by NOFX
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cathlin Of Clutha

An address to Malvina, the daughter of Toscar. The poet relates the arrival of Cathlin in Selma, to solicit aid against Duth-carmor of Cluba, who had killed Cathmol for the sake of his daughter Lanul. Fingal declining to make a choice among his heroes, who were all claiming the command of the expedition, they retired "each to his hill of ghosts," to be determined by dreams. The spirit of Trenmor appears to Ossian and Oscar. They sail from the bay of Carmona, and on the fourth day, appear off the valley of Rath-col, in Inis-huna, where Duth-carmor had fixed his residence. Ossian despatches a bard to Duth-carmor to demand battle. Night comes on. The distress of Cathlin of Clutha. Ossian devolves the command on Oscar, who, according to the custom of the kings of Morven, before battle, retired to a neighboring hill. Upon the coming on of day, the battle joins. Oscar carries the mail and helmet of Duth-carmor to Cathlin, who had retired from the field. Cathlin is discovered to be the daughter of Cathmol in disguise, who had been carried off by force by, and had made her escape from, Duth-carmor.

COME, thou beam that art lonely, from watching in the night! The squalling winds are around thee, from all their echoing hills. Red, over my hundred streams, are the light-covered paths of the dead. They rejoice on the eddying winds, in the season of night. Dwells there no joy in song, white-hand of the harps of Lutha? Awake the voice of the string; roll my soul to me. It is a stream that has failed. Malvina, pour the song.

I hear thee from thy darkness in Selma, thou that watchest lonely by night! Why didst thou withhold the song from Ossian's falling soul? As the falling brook to the ear of the hunter, descending from his storm-covered hill, in a sunbeam rolls the echoing stream, he hears and shakes his dewy locks: such is the voice of Lutha to the friend of the spirits of heroes. My swelling bosom beats high. I look back on the days that are past. Come, thou beam that art lonely, from watching in the night!

In the echoing bay of Carmona we saw one day the bounding ship. On high hung a broken shield; it was marked with wandering blood. Forward came a youth in arms, and stretched his pointless spear. Long, over his tearful eyes, hung loose his disordered locks. Fingal gave the shell of kings. The words of the stranger arose. "In his hall lies Cathmol of Clutha, by the winding of his own dark streams. Duth-carmor saw white-bosomed Lanul, and pierced her father's side. In the rushy desert were my steps. He fled in the season of night. Give thine aid to Cathlin to revenge his father. I sought thee not as a beam in a land of clouds. Thou, like the sun, art known, king of echoing Selma!"

Selma's king looked around. In his presence we rose in arms. But who should lift the shield? for all had claimed the war. The night came down; we strode in silence, each to his hill of ghosts, that spirits might descend in our dreams to mark us for the field. We struck the shield of the dead: we raised the hum of songs. We thrice called the ghosts of our fathers. We laid us down in dreams. Trenmor came, before mine eyes, the tall form of other years! His blue hosts were behind him in half-distinguished rows. — Scarce seen is their strife in mist, or the stretching forward to deaths. I listened, but no sound was there. The forms were empty wind!

I started from the dream of ghosts. On a sudden blast flew my whistling hair. Low sounding. in the oak, is the departure of the dead. I took my shield from its bough. Onward came the rattling of steel. It was Oscar of Lego. He had seen his fathers. As rushes forth the blast on the bosom of whitening waves, so careless shall my course be, through ocean, to the dwelling of foes. I have seen the dead, my father! My beating soul is high! My fame is bright before me, like the streak of light on a cloud, when the broad sun comes forth, red traveller of the sky!"

" Grandson of Branno," I said, "not Oscar alone shall meet the foe. I rush forward, through ocean, to the woody dwelling of heroes. Let us contend, my son, like eagles from one rock, when they lift their broad wings against the stream of winds." We raised our sails in Carmona. From three ships they marked my shield on the wave, as I looked on nightly Ton-thena, red traveller between the clouds. Four days came the breeze abroad. Lumon came forward in mist. In winds were its hundred groves. Sunbeams marked at times its brown side. White leapt the foamy streams from all its echoing rocks.

A green field, in the bosom of hills, winds silent with its own blue stream. Here, "midst the waving of oaks, were the dwellings of kings of old." But silence, for many dark-brown years, had settled in grassy Rath-col; for the race of heroes had failed along the pleasant vale. Duth-carmor was here, with his people, dark rider of the wave! Ton-thena had hid her head in the sky. He bound his white-bosomed sails. His course is on the hills of Rath-col to the seats of roes. We came. I sent the bard, with songs, to call the foe to fight. Duth-carmor heard him with joy. The king's soul was like a beam of fire; a beam of fire, marked with smoke, rushing, varied through the bosom of night. The deeds of Duth-carmor were dark, though his arm was strong.

Night came with the gathering of clouds. By the beam of the oak we sat down. At a distance stood Cathlin of Clutha. I saw the changeful soul of the stranger. As shadows fly over the field of grass, so various is Cathlin's cheek. It was fair within locks, that rose on Rath-col's wind. I did not rush, amidst his soul, with my words. I bade the song to rise.

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poem by James Macpherson
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School

Education!
Ronnie, bobby, ricky, and mike, and ralph!
S c h o o l, you got to go to school and beat that bell.
E-mail, what goes here? ________and ring, ding, dong.
We e-mail, what goes here? __________ rap about this song.
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday, the weekends here!
Well listen.
When I was very young I used to sit around the house watching oil can harry battle mighty mouse
Until my mother said, son, thats not the way to be. youve got to go to school and learn your abcs.
I said, is that it, mom?
She said, thats not even half. youve got to go to school, you got to learn some math.
You got to learn you to count- 1, 2, 3- and then get freshed up on the history.
My first day of school Ill never forget. my teacher said, recite the alphabet.
I said, a e m e l r, and, as you can see, I didnt get very far.
The teacher said, son, theres nothing to it. before the days over, youll learn how to do it.
And not only that, youll learn how to read, and thats one thing in life youll always need.
Well, schools not all work. theres fun things to do like gym, lunch, and recess, too.
Kindergarten was easy. it was mostly play. what I was worried about was elementary.
S c h o o l, you got to go to school and beat that bell.
_______________ and ring, ding, dong.

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song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bridal Of Triermain

Introduction.
I.
Come Lucy! while 'tis morning hour
The woodland brook we needs must pass;
So, ere the sun assume his power,
We shelter in our poplar bower,
Where dew lies long upon the flower,
Though vanish'd from the velvet grass.
Curbing the stream, this stony ridge
May serve us for a silvan bridge;
For here, compell'd to disunite,
Round petty isles the runnels glide,
And chafing off their puny spite,
The shallows murmurers waste their might,
Yielding to footstep free and light
A dry-shod pass from side to side.

II.
Nay, why this hesitating pause?
And, Lucy, as thy step withdraws,

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poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Orlando Furioso Canto 19

ARGUMENT
Medoro, by Angelica's quaint hand,
Is healed, and weds, and bears her to Catay.
At length Marphisa, with the chosen band,
After long suffering, makes Laiazzi's bay.
Guido the savage, bondsman in the land,
Which impious women rule with civil sway,
With Marphisa strives in single fight,
And lodges her and hers at full of night.

I
By whom he is beloved can no one know,
Who on the top of Fortune's wheel is seated;
Since he, by true and faithless friends, with show
Of equal faith, in glad estate is greeted.
But, should felicity be changed to woe,
The flattering multitude is turned and fleeted!
While he who loves his master from his heart,
Even after death performs his faithful part.

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poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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I do get a lot of mail. I get a lot of foreign mail because my mail gets mixed with Emilio Estevez.

quote by Erik Estrada
Added by Lucian Velea
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When you start thinking about taking pictures, sending an e-mail, receiving an e-mail, speaking into your phone and have it transcript voice into text and then sent as an e-mail, it's mind-boggling.

quote by Steve Largent
Added by Lucian Velea
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Keeping email alive in touch

Keeping email alive in touch

A day gone by without your mail
I seem to be a year for me
Today I read your mail
Is full with gladness and happiness
Family and friends
Getting in touch
From around the world
I dream of the day, when we meet
Or again
In real from around the world
I will tell you, how much I love you
My family and your Friendship
When we do we spend all day long
Talking of this
Miracle email alive
Only we can make this happen
Because we been waiting for this moment
For a long time

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poem by See Fee Lee
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