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Of Course Im Lying

Her name was julie
When she took me on a ride in her old chevrolet
Straight into a dusty sundown
I knew she was gonna make up one of her stories
And then she couldnt believe that I told her
How much I love her lies and how much I love her games
Riding on the highway
Youre going much too far
Youre lying so much better
When you drive a car
Youre lying til the sundown
So look into my face
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying
I love your games
I love your lies
I love your games

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song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Of Course Im Lying

Her name was julie
When she took me on a ride in her old chevrolet
Straight into a dusty sundown
I knew she was gonna make up one of her stories
And then she couldnt believe that I told her
How much I love her lies and how much I love her games
Riding on the highway
Youre going much too far
Youre lying so much better
When you drive a car
Youre lying til the sundown
So look into my face
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying (I love it)
Youre lying
I love your games
I love your lies
I love your games

[...] Read more

song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'The Word

Word of love and the Word made flesh
Word incarnate forever blessed
Word of life and the Word of light
Word of power and Word of might.

Word that was spoken, Word of the Lord
Word of the Law and the Word of God
Word of peace and Word eternal
Word of truth and last Word of all.

Word of wisdom and the Word of healing
Word from heaven, a Word so appealing
Word fulfilling the Word of prophecy
Word of the Spirit and Word of destiny.

Word of exhortation and Word of grace
Word of encouragement and Word of faith
Word of promise and a Word of insight
Word from the beginning and Word of delight.

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poem by Roy Allen
Added by Poetry Lover
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lyin' To Yourself

You tell me lies that you believe
You say its the real thing
I can see how you've deceived
I know what's happening
And seeing is believing 'til you find out that you're blind
You're Lying To Yourself (Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself (Lying To Yourself)
Wake up, shake up, turn around
I'll give it to you straight
It's been too long, it's past a joke
Something I can't take
The cost is due, now tell me money ain't the means [to me it sounds like
"meaning"]
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
Lying To Yourself again, you're Lying to Yourself again
Lying To Yourself again, you're Lying To Yourself again
Lying in the morning

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song performed by Asia
Added by Lucian Velea
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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 Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Word

Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.

poem by Kabir
Added by Poetry Lover
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Word

Say the word and you'll be free
Say the word and be like me
Say the word i'm thinking of
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine, it's sunshine
It's the word, love
In the beginning i misunderstood
But now i've got it, the word is good
Spread the word and you'll be free
Spread the word and be like be
Spread the work i'm thinking of
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine, it's sunshine
It's the word, love
Every where i go i hear it said
In the good and bad books that i have read
Give the word a chance to say
That the word is just the way
It's the word i'm thinking of
And the only word is love

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song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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