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Bitter Sweet Symphony

Cos its a bittersweet symphony this life...
cause its a bittersweet symphony, this life
Trying to make ends meet , youre a slave to the money then you die.
Try to make ends meet
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down...
Youre a slave to money then you die
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the pain lives , yeah.
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
No change, I can change, I can change, I can change,
Where all the veins meet yeah,
But Im here in my mould , I am here in my mould.
But Im a million different people from one day to the next...
No change, I can change
I cant change my mould , no,no,no,no,no,no,no
I can change, I can change
But Im here in my mold
Well I never pray,
I am here in my mold
But tonight Im on my knees, yeah.

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song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carpenter By Trade

His future had been laid- for he was a carpenter by trade.
Just as a carpenter can mold anything out of wood
He could mold mans hearts and souls into good.

He would mold mans hearts with accurate precision
For this was his fathers decision.
He came to mold all the hearts of mankind
And open the eyes of the blind.

The world would come to know him as the king of kings
And see all the love that he would bring.
Throughout the centuries it will be told
He is the master craftsman of the heart and soul.

Now when we feel a tingle of sensation
And a wanting to get more of inspiration
Look for the craftsman who could mold
The hearts and souls of man
To give you a helping hand.

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poem by Louis Rams
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Epilogue

(THE GRAVEYARD OF SPOON RIVER. TWO VOICES ARE HEARD BEHIND A SCREEN DECORATED WITH DIABOLICAL AND ANGELIC FIGURES IN VARIOUS ALLEGORICAL RELATIONS. A FAINT LIGHT SHOWS DIMLY THROUGH THE SCREEN AS IF IT WERE WOVEN OF LEAVES, BRANCHES AND SHADOWS.)

FIRST VOICE

A game of checkers?

SECOND VOICE

Well, I don't mind.

FIRST VOICE

I move the Will.

SECOND VOICE

You're playing it blind.

FIRST VOICE

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poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Preacher's Son

I can't help it girl, I'm the preacher's son
I must live for peace till the day is done
But I will never let you go
Once I have got you in my hold
I'm gonna mold ya into something that I like
I can't change my ways, I'm a puppet's fool
If you need a fix, then I'll be your tool
But I will never let you go
Once I have got you in my hold
I'm gonna mold ya into something that I like
Always take me back
Falling off the track
Always, I'm on fire to be with you tonight and make your body come
I can't be someone that you wish I was
Just a tag a long, like you too because
But I will never let you go
Once I have got you in my hold
I'm gonna mold ya into something that I like
Always take me back
Falling off the track

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song performed by Weezer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Livin In The Fridge

Theres something weird in the fridge today
I dont know what it is
Food I cant recognize
My roommate wont throw a thing away
I guess its probably his
It looks like its alive...
And livin in the fridge... livin in the fridge
Livin in the fridge... livin in the fridge
Theres something dross in the fridge today
Its green and growin hair
Its been there since july
If you can name the object
In that baggie over there
Then mister, youre a better man than i
Its livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
Cant tell what (dysentary) it is at all (dysentary)
Livin in the fridge
You cant stop (dysentary) the mold from growin (dysentary)

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song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cyder: Book I

-- -- Honos erit huic quoq; Pomo? Virg.

What Soil the Apple loves, what Care is due
To Orchats, timeliest when to press the Fruits,
Thy Gift, Pomona, in Miltonian Verse
Adventrous I presume to sing; of Verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: But my Native Soil
Invites me, and the Theme as yet unsung.

Ye Ariconian Knights, and fairest Dames,
To whom propitious Heav'n these Blessings grants,
Attend my Layes; nor hence disdain to learn,
How Nature's Gifts may be improv'd by Art.

And thou, O Mostyn, whose Benevolence,
And Candor, oft experienc'd, Me vouchsaf'd
To knit in Friendship, growing still with Years,
Accept this Pledge of Gratitude and Love.
May it a lasting Monument remain

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poem by John Arthur Phillips
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Rondeau

Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.

Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.

Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.

poem by Eustache Deschamps
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What To Do

you get a handful of mud
put a little rain
and then you begin shaping
a face

carefully you put some
tenderness
sculpting forgiveness
you mold your vision
of integrity

you stop for a while
and contemplate on what is
it that is missing

your heart is heavy
it is filled with the burden
of love

you pour love

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So Hang They Do...To Maintain!

Thick in the wilderness,
And trying to make some sense of it.
But you know,
Some are too slow...
To speed up with the flow,
So...
Bold are those who choose to break,
From this mold.
But you know,
Some are too slow...
To speed up with the flow,
So...
Hang,
They do...
To maintain.

So...
Hang,
They do...
With nothing to gain!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Refuse to Lament

I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.

I have things to lament.
You have things to lament.
I refuse to lament.
But, you stay glued to sentiments,
With contented reasons meant.

Growing old,
You lament.
As if you're sold,
To lament.
Inviting mold,
To convince to start a pointless argument.

Growing old,

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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