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Moonshine Whiskey

Oh, she give me moonshine whiskey
Oh, she give me southern love
Deep in the heart of texas
There beneath the stars above
Oh, she give me southern comfort
Oh, she give me moonshine love
Deep in the heart of texas
There beneath the stars above
Here I am riding on a train
Just about thunderballs down the line
Just cant wait any longer
See that little darling of mine
See that little darling of mine
Shes my texas sweetheart
Part from arkansas
Then were dancing
Across the floor
And a band was playing
People were swayin, to and fro
Streamline promenade

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song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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What Best I See In Thee

WHAT best I see in thee,
Is not that where thou mov'st down history's great highways,
Ever undimm'd by time shoots warlike victory's dazzle,
Or that thou sat'st where Washington sat, ruling the land in peace,
Or thou the man whom feudal Europe feted, venerable Asia, swarm'd
upon,
Who walk'd with kings with even pace the round world's promenade;
But that in foreign lands, in all thy walks with kings,
Those prairie sovereigns of the West, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois,
Ohio's, Indiana's millions, comrades, farmers, soldiers, all to the
front,
Invisibly with thee walking with kings with even pace the round
world's promenade, 10
We all so justified.

poem by Walt Whitman
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The Last Sunday of October

Vilamoura marina on a glorious October day, tourists gone home
leaving the promenade for us elderly to walk sedately along it.
I saw an ancient lady walking forcefully, using a Zimmer frame,
It looked like she was trying to set a new personal record, and
we gave her space. We saw a once famous footballer, sad really
you see them running around a big green field and the next day
they are dated and forty. In case you ask, it wasn’t Beckham.
Many yachts tied up and their owners are allowed to drive their
cars on the promenade, my old socialist heart was ready to revolt.
Cafes were open and served food for us old at reduced price; still
too expensive, it was as idle waiters were eyeing us malevolently.
The Zimmer lady returned I think she had beaten her old record.
Then it was late afternoon and the sea breeze cooled our ardour;
time to go home and drink our cacao.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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La maison des morts

S'étendant sur les côtés du cimetière
La maison des morts l'encadrait comme un cloître
A l'intérieur de ses vitrines
Pareilles à celles des boutiques de modes
Au lieu de sourire debout
Les mannequins grimaçaient pour l'éternité
Arrivé à Munich depuis quinze ou vingt jours
J'étais entré pour la première fois et par hasard
Dans ce cimetière presque désert
Et je claquais des dents
Devant toute cette bourgeoisie
Exposée et vêtue le mieux possible
En attendant la sépulture
Soudain
Rapide comme ma mémoire
Les yeux ses rallumèrent
De cellule vitrée en cellule vitrée
Le ciel se peupla d'une apocalypse
Vivace
Et la terra plate à l'infini

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poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Stepping Out Queen Part 2

It seems like it must have been something that I said
Something that somebody must have done
This is a song
Its got a whole lot of soul
When I seen you by the way before
In new york city
I think it was on eighth street, right?
Or was it in san francisco, whatever
Always put the first one first
And the second one, second
Come in the garden and look at the flowers
Thats what you were saying, right?
Come in my garden and look at the flowers
We can just sit and talk for hours and hours
Come in my garden, come in my garden
Come in my garden
Come in my, come in my, come in my garden
Come in my, come in my, come in my garden
Come in my garden, come in my garden
Look at the flowers, we can just sit and talk

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song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lazy Summer

Lazy summer promenade
Blonde girl - shallow eyes
Naked by a lake we swam beneath the paling moon

poem by David Lacey
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The day of the sun is like the day of a king. It is a promenade in the morning, a sitting on the throne at noon, a pageant in the evening.

quote by Wallace Stevens
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To Ottilie

YOU remember, I suppose,
How the August sun arose,
And how his face
Woke to trill and carolette
All the cages that were set
About the place.

In the tender morning light
All around lay strange and bright
And still and sweet,
And the gray doves unafraid
Went their morning promenade
Along the street.

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Mermaid

Her curly face, tremble,
She settles on the sky.
Caress, the hands through her hair.
Her long stand of promenade colours
Catch on the deep-blue hallows.
Her mouth, shape of lips
Lubricated kiss, wets.
Red skin shoulders by the sun,
of fire passion, moves
The eyes swapping views
Ancient disbelieves,
Talks of reef sing.
Tales of sailors' dreams.

poem by Luca Menin
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The Puppeteer Dies

the puppeteer dies
and black sunrise
a single tear falls to her breast
white on white
bonjour tristesse

her fallen hero
twisted strings

their staring eyes
and no bird sings

that day he died
released the world from all it's strings

and under papier-mache skies
with crimsoned cheeks
and wild wide eyes
they did their burn-out promenade

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poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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