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Quotes about Fish Tone

Stalin Malone

I'm going to make you even fear the dream you dream
So don't even think about it don't make a wish
You think that i don't see you as you trawl those young weak fish
Hooked on those poor wonders, 'til they want you alone
Though they can't tell a cuckoo-clock from the squeals of saxophones
That's when they'll fear my name
Stalin malone
I'm telling you the day will come when this man gets what he merits
Though people still wear animal skins to ward off evil spirits
Only wife-swapping and witchcraft woke the dormitory town
'til horse's heads up in the trees came dripping down
Yes, horse's heads up hung in the trees after the bird had flown
Did you wonder of my whereabouts as the barrack-room was blown
Did anybody call my name?
Stalin malone
In a room called creation, where you all obey my laws
Where seconal is gravity and pain is like applause
You think that this phenomenon is some coincidence
But i've got people everywhere, you're under
My surveillance, in the pocket of my pants

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Pussy Willow

In the half-tone light of a young morning
She sighs and shifts on the pillow.
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
To kiss the pussy willow.
In her fairy-tale world shes a lost soul singing
In a sad voice nobody hears.
She waits in her castle of make-believing
For her white knight to appear.
Pusy willow --- down fur-lined avenue
Brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs for the train --- see, eight oclocks coming
Cutting dreams down to size again.
Pussy willow --- down fur-lined avenue
Brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs from the train. hear her typewriter humming
Cutting dreams down to size again.
She longs for the east and a pale dress flowing
An apartment in old mayfair.
Or to fish the spey, spinning the first run of spring
Or to die for a cause somewhere.

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song performed by Jethro TullReport problemRelated quotes
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Pibroch (Cap In Hand)

In the half-tone light of a young morning
she sighs and shifts on the pillow.
And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly
to kiss the Pussy Willow.
In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing
in a sad voice nobody hears.
She waits in her castle of make-believe
for her white knight to appear.
Pusy Willow down fur-lined avenue
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs for the train, see: eight o'clock's coming
cutting dreams down to size again.
Pussy Willow down fur-lined avenue,
brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes.
Runs from the train. Hear her typewriter humming,
cutting dreams down to size again.
She longs for the East and a pale dress flowing
an apartment in old Mayfair.
Or to fish the Spey, spinning the first run of Spring
or to die for a cause somewhere.

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song performed by Jethro TullReport problemRelated quotes
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Good Foot

I aint tryin to be rude dude
But we tryin to tear up the place, come on
Hey Timbo (yeah)
Dont you hate it when a dude starts actin up
Like this fella over here with his hands on the scuff
Be muggin and carryin on
Hey J.T. (yeah)
Why these dudes keep starin at us
I dont know but Im about to find out whats up
Be easy dont take it to rough
Talk to them
Im not being cocky
I just noticed that she was lookin at me
Chill homeboy be cool
Cause there aint no reason for all the fussin at me
Its just gettin started
And theres alot of fish around here
Just shakin their jelly
I aint tryin to be rude dude
But we tryin to tear up the place, come on

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Doin' Time On The Rockline

3...4...Alright everybody out there.
Comin' to ya live from 93.3 Jacksonville, Florida.
We're Limp Bizkit, check it out.
I been around the world and then some.
Dum ditty dum kid where you comin' from?
I went from the garage to steppin' on these stages,
outrageous rhymes left my mind,
and soon became contagious.
An MC with bad habits,
I am, see a mic and I grab it.
So scary ain't it?
I'm comin' raw with no corrections,
Servin' all perfections
For what I do with my erections.
So dream on. And dream until your dream comes true.
Reality check kid, that's why you're on the deck, kid.
While you're in your car, no matter where you are.
You lip sink these jams 'cause you're far from a superstar.
And if you're lonely, hoe.
I ain't the one that gives a damn, hoe.

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Fourth Book

THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,

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poem by from Aurora Leigh (1856)Report problemRelated quotes
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Waring

[Mr. Alfred Domett, C.M.G., author of "Ranolf and Amohia," full of descriptions of New Zealand scenery.]

I

What's become of Waring
Since he gave us all the slip,
Chose land-travel or seafaring,
Boots and chest or staff and scrip,
Rather than pace up and down
Any longer London town?


II

Who'd have guessed it from his lip
Or his brow's accustomed bearing,
On the night he thus took ship
Or started landward?--little caring
For us, it seems, who supped together
(Friends of his too, I remember)

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poem by from Cavalier Tunes (1842)Report problemRelated quotes
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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.

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poem by from The Ring and the BookReport problemRelated quotes
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,

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poem by from The Ring and the BookReport problemRelated quotes
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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?

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poem by (1871)Report problemRelated quotes
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