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Quotes about t-bird, page 2

T-birds

Circle high, circle low.
Jammers fly, t-birds.
You show, you show, whiplash go.
You show, you show, t-birds. mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
On the dot in the slot, tie the knot.
On the dot timed kisses.
In the slot on the dot, tie the knot.
In the slot, no misses.
Mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun conquerer.
Two thousand years ago... a great race... warriors... lived in... they had many gods... mayans... gods... mazatlan... (if you can fill in these blanks please email lab@primenet.com)
Black sun worshipper.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up plumed serpent.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up, my t-bird.
Serpent curl.

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Fun, Fun, Fun

Well she got her daddys car
And she cruised through the hamburger stand now
Seems she forgot all about the library
Like she told her old man now
And with the radio blasting
Goes cruising just as fast as she can now
And shell have fun fun fun
til her daddy takes the t-bird away
(fun fun fun til her daddy takes the t-bird away)
Well the girls cant stand her
cause she walks looks and drives like an ace now
(you walk like an ace now you walk like an ace)
She makes the indy 500 look like a roman chariot race now
(you look like an ace now you look like an ace)
A lotta guys try to catch her
But she leads them on a wild goose chase now
(you drive like an ace now you drive like an ace)
And shell have fun fun fun
til her daddy takes the t-bird away
(fun fun fun til her daddy takes the t-bird away)

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Flower and Bird

Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?

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The Wren

It was a quiet morning;
As usual my wife Laureen opened the front door (leaving it open wide) in hopes that the cat would follow her out. (Little did she know that a small intruder had flown in through the open door.) After retrieving the morning newspaper, with coffee mug full of steaming coffee Laureen settled into
her morning ritual, with "Neferkitti" (our cat) snuggled on the bar stool next to her.

Suddenly there was a flutter and thump as a tiny wren flew into a window in the dining room.
The bird fell to the floor momentarily stunned. Taking advantage of the moment, with great speed and agility Neferkitti pounced on the helpless bird. Mouthing the bird softly, she presented her catch to her master. Horrified Laureen admonished the cat, screaming "Let her go". With great reluctance the cat dropped the bird on the floor. After a few moments the bird flew up to a tall cabinet, where she landed to assess her predicament.

At this time I was laying in bed reading, when I heard Laureen shout loudly "Ray get in here there is a bird in the house'. I slipped on a shirt, grabbed my glasses, and walked in just as the bird took flight and landed on the rail leading to my upstairs office. Walking up the stairs slowly I reached for the perched bird who quickly flew back down to the family room. Not seeing where she landed I searched the room. Suddenly she flew into a large picture window in the family room. The confused bird sat on the sill looking out of the window. I approached the bird, who made no attempt to fly off. I reached down, and with cupped hands gently picked up the traumatized bird. She chirped once and settled into my warm hands.

Making my way to the sliding door that leads to the outside deck I stepped out and opened my hands to release the bird. Gripping the index finger of my right hand she was reluctant to fly. I stood there, and time froze.

Our eyes met, and I felt the impact of what was happening;
From the wren's perspective here stood a god-like giant with the power of life and death over her. From my perspective there perched on a single finger was a tiny creature who I could crush with hardly any effort. In that brief moment we were both experienced the miracle, diversity and fragile nature of life.

"All creatures great and small"

Walking over to a bench on the deck and with palm up I waited for the bird to step off onto the safety of the bench and freedom. She gripped even more tightly, as if she'd found safety in my hands. With my left hand I gently coaxed her off my right hand onto the bench, where she stood looking around. She made no effort to fly away, so I went back through the door, closed it and stood watching, hoping that she was not seriously injured.

While walking up the stairs to my office I heard Laureen (who'd been watching) exclaim loudly;

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Patrick White

Chewing On Memories Like Broken Mirrors In Her Sleep

Chewing on memories like broken mirrors in her sleep
tears of blood run from her eyes.
She doesn't know I'm watching
but I've got windows everywhere.
But for her
just for her
because nobody else cares
third eye satellites with unlimited airspace
in her choice of skies to match her eyes.
A haemorrhage of sunsets.
Fly little bird fly
as if you weren't the shattered sparrow
God took his eye off
when you fell.
Sometimes the mystic oversights
have more to say
about the great revelations of the world
than all the burning bushes in the valley of Tuwa.
Rumours and news.
Fly little bird fly.

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Rabindranath Tagore

The Tame Bird Was In A Cage

THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'

The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'

There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'

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Rabindranath Tagore

VI

The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."

The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."

Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.

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poem by from The Gardener (1913)Report problemRelated quotes
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Our Bird In Your Cage

we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape

we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree

days and years
we keep this bird in your cage

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Flightless Bird

My world is caged in,
I can not fly away,
I can not soar in the clouds,
With the wind and the angels.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.

I sit here day in and day out,
I watch so many people coming in and going out,
They stay here so happy so proud,
And they leave again without any care in the world.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.

I remember each face,
I remember them all saying hi waiting for a reply of hello,
They don’t understand how it feels,
They don’t understand what it’s like.
To be a flightless bird with clipped wings.

Wings tucked and head held high I sit here,
I wear a smile on my face and I keep myself beautiful and happy,

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Saltbush Bill's Gamecock

'Twas Saltbush Bill, with his travelling sheep, was making his way to town;
He crossed them over the Hard Times Run, and he came to the Take 'Em Down;
He counted through at the boundary gate, and camped at the drafting yard:
For Stingy Smith, of the Hard Times Run, had hunted him rather hard.
He bore no malice to Stingy Smith -- 'twas simply the hand of Fate
That caused his waggon to swerve aside and shatter old Stingy's gate;
And being only the hand of Fate, it follows, without a doubt,
It wasn't the fault of Saltbush Bill that Stingy's sheep got out.
So Saltbush Bill, with an easy heart, prepared for what might befall,
Commenced his stages on Take 'Em Down, the station of Roostr Hall.
'Tis strange how often the men out back will take to some curious craft,
Some ruling passion to keep their thoughts away from the overdraft:
And Rooster Hall, of the Take 'Em Down, was widely known to fame
As breeder of champion fighting cocks -- his forte was the British Game.

The passing stranger within his gates that camped with old Rooster Hall
Was forced to talk about fowls all noght, or else not talk at all.
Though droughts should come, and though sheep should die, his fowls were his sole delight;
He left his shed in the flood of work to watch two game-cocks fight.
He held in scorn the Australian Game, that long-legged child of sin;

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