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The Bourne Identity

Cast: Matt Damon, Franka Potente, Chris Cooper, Clive Owen, Brian Cox

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A Sicilian Idyll

(First Scene) Damon
I thank thee, no;
Already have I drunk a bowl of wine . . .
Nay, nay, why wouldst thou rise?
There rolls thy ball of worsted! Sit thee down;
Come, sit thee down, Cydilla,
And let me fetch thy ball, rewind the wool,
And tell thee all that happened yesterday.

Cydilla
Thanks, Damon; now, by Zeus, thou art so brisk,
It shames me that to stoop should try my bones.

Damon
We both are old,
And if we may have peaceful days are blessed;
Few hours of bouyancy will come to break
The sure withdrawal from us of life's flood.

Cydilla
True, true, youth looks a great way off! To think
It wonce was age did lie quite out of sight!

Damon
Not many days have been so beautiful
As yesterday, Cydilla; yet one was;
And I with thee broke tranced on its fine spell;
Thou dost remember? Yes? but not with tears,
Ah, not with tears, Cydilla, pray, oh, pray!

Cydilla
Pardon me, Damon,
'Tis many years since thou hast touched thereon;
And something stirs about thee -
Such air of eagerness as was thine when
I was more foolish than in my life, I hope
To ever have been at another time.

Damon
Pooh! foolish? - thou wast then so very wise
That, often having seen thee foolish since,
Wonder has made me faint that thou shouldst err.

Cydilla
Nay, then I erred, dear Damon; and remorse
Was not so slow to find me as thou deemst.

Damon
There, mop those dear wet eyes, or thou'lt ne'er hear
What it was filled my heart yesterday.

[...] Read more

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The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy

Part first.

Perhaps some cloud eclipsed the day,
When thus I tuned my pensive lay:
The ship is launch'd-we catch the gale-
On life's extended ocean sail:
For happiness our course we bend,
Our ardent cry, our general end!
Yet, ah! the scenes which tempt our care
Are, like the forms dispersed in air,
Still dancing near disorder'd eyes,
And weakest his who best descries!'
Yet let me not my birthright barter,
(For wishing is the poet's charter;
All bards have leave to wish what's wanted,
Though few e'er found their wishes granted;
Extensive field! where poets pride them
In singing all that is denied them).
For humble ease, ye Powers! I pray;
That plain warm suit for every day,
And pleasure and brocade, bestow,
To flaunt it-once a month, or so.
The first for constant wear we want;
The first, ye Powers! for ever grant;
But constant wear the last bespatters,
And turns the tissue into tatters.
Where'er my vagrant course I bend,
Let me secure one faithful friend.
Let me, in public scenes, request
A friend of wit and taste, well drest;
And, if I must not hope such favour,
A friend of wit and taste, however.
Alas! that Wisdom ever shuns
To congregate her scatter'd Sons,
Whose nervous forces, well combined,
Would win the field, and sway mankind.
The fool will squeeze, from morn to night,
To fix his follies full in sight;
The note he strikes, the plume he shows,
Attract whole flights of fops and beaus,
And kindred fools, who ne'er had known him,
Flock at the sight, caress and own him;
But ill-starr'd Sense, not gay nor loud,
Steals soft on tiptoe through the crowd;
Conveys his meagre form between,
And slides, like pervious air, unseen;
Contracts his known tenuity,
As though 'twere even a crime to be;
Nor even permits his eyes to stray,
And win acquaintance in their way.

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La Fontaine

The Magic Cup

THE worst of ills, with jealousy compared,
Are trifling torments ev'ry where declared.

IMAGINE, to yourself a silly fool,
To dark suspicion grown an easy tool;
No soft repose he finds, by night or day;
But rings his ear, he's wretched ev'ry way!
Continually he dreams his forehead sprouts;
The truth of reveries he never doubts.
But this I would not fully guaranty,
For he who dreams, 'tis said, asleep should be;
And those who've caught, from time to time, a peep,
Pretend to say--the jealous never sleep.

A MAN who has suspicions soon will rouse;
But buz a fly around his precious spouse,
At once he fancies cuckoldom is brought,
And nothing can eradicate the thought;
In spite of reason he must have a place,
And numbered be, among the horned race;
A cuckold to himself he freely owns,
Though otherwise perhaps in flesh and bones.

GOOD folks, of cuckoldom, pray what's the harm,
To give, from time to time, such dire alarm?
What injury 's received, and what 's the wrong,
At which so many sneer and loll their tongue?
While unacquainted with the fact, 'tis naught;
If known:--e'en then 'tis scarcely worth a thought.
You think, however, 'tis a serious grief;
Then try to doubt it, which may bring relief,
And don't resemble him who took a sup,
From out the celebrated magic cup.
Be warned by others' ills; the tale I'll tell;
Perhaps your irksomeness it may dispel.

BUT first, by reason let me prove, I pray,
That evil such as this, and which you say,
Oft weighs you down with soul-corroding care;
Is only in the mind:--mere spright of air:
Your hat upon your head for instance place,
Less gently rather than's your usual case;
Pray, don't it presently at ease remain?
And from it do you aught amiss retain?
Not e'en a spot; there's nothing half so clear;
The features, too, they as before appear?
No difference assuredly you see?
Then how can cuckoldom an evil be?
Such my conclusion, spite of fools or brutes,
With whose ideas reason never suits.

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William Cowper

On The Death Of Damon. (Translated From Milton)

Ye Nymphs of Himera (for ye have shed
Erewhile for Daphnis and for Hylas dead,
And over Bion's long-lamented bier,
The fruitless meed of many a sacred tear)
Now, through the villas laved by Thames rehearse
The woes of Thyrsis in Sicilian verse,
What sighs he heav'd, and how with groans profound
He made the woods and hollow rocks resound
Young Damon dead; nor even ceased to pour
His lonely sorrows at the midnight hour.
The green wheat twice had nodded in the ear,
And golden harvest twice enrich'd the year,
Since Damon's lips had gasp'd for vital air
The last, last time, nor Thyrsis yet was there;
For he, enamour'd of the Muse, remain'd
In Tuscan Fiorenza long detain'd,
But, stored at length with all he wish'd to learn,
For his flock's sake now hasted to return,
And when the shepherd had resumed his seat
At the elm's root within his old retreat,
Then 'twas his lot, then, all his loss to know,
And, from his burthen'd heart, he vented thus his woe.
Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due
To other cares than those of feeding you.
Alas! what Deities shall I suppose
In heav'n or earth concern'd for human woes,
Since, Oh my Damon! their severe decree
So soon condemns me to regret of Thee!
Depart'st thou thus, thy virtues unrepaid
With fame and honour, like a vulgar shade?
Let him forbid it, whose bright rod controls,
And sep'rates sordid from illustrious souls,
Drive far the rabble, and to Thee assign
A happier lot with spirits worthy thine!
Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are due
To other cares than those of feeding you.
Whate'er befall, unless by cruel chance
The wolf first give me a forbidding glance,
Thou shalt not moulder undeplor'd, but long
Thy praise shall dwell on ev'ry shepherd's tongue;
To Daphnis first they shall delight to pay,
And, after Him, to thee the votive lay,
While Pales shall the flocks and pastures love,
Or Faunus to frequent the field or grove,
At least if antient piety and truth
With all the learned labours of thy youth
May serve thee aught, or to have left behind
A sorrowing friend, and of the tuneful kind.
Go, seek your home, my lambs, my thoughts are due
To other cares than those of feeding you.

[...] Read more

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The Conversation. A Tale

It always has been a thought discreet
To know the company you meet;
And sure there may be secret danger
In talking much before a stranger.
Agreed: what then? Then drink your ale;
I'll pledge you, and repeat my tale.

No matter where the scene is fix'd,
The persons were but oddly mix'd;
When sober Damon thus began,
(And Damon is a clever man!)
I now grow old, but still from youth
Have held for modesty and truth;
The men who by these sea-marks steer
In life's great voyage never err:

Upon this point I dare defy
The world; I pause for a reply.

Sir, either is a good assistant,
Said one, who sat a little distant;
Truth decks our speeches and our books,
And modesty adorns our looks:
But farther progress we must take;
Not only born to look and speak,
The man must act. The Stagirite
Says thus, and says extremely right.
Strict justice is the sovereign guide
That o'er our actions should preside;
This queen of virtues is confess'd
To regulate and bind the rest.
Thrice happy if you can but find
Her equal balance poise your mind;
All different graces soon will enter,
Like lines concurrent to their centre.

'Twas thus, in short, these two went on,
With yea and nay, and
pro
and
con
.
Through many points divinely dark,
And Waterland assaulting Clarke,
Till, in theology half lost,
Damon took up the Evening Post,
Confounded Spain, composed the north,
And deep in politics held forth.
Methinks we're in the like condition
As at the Treaty of Partition:

[...] Read more

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Writer Damon Runyon

Shirley Temple launched her career,
with Littlest Miss Marker,
making her Best Star of the Year.
Damon Runyon wrote this story,
It was a drama, not very gory.
Damon wrote “Guys and Dolls”
which is a Broadway musical,
Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen named after him
named Runyon’s Way to this day.
He named his mobster friend Otto, Regret,
A horse player who used to bet.
now Regret is in Shirley Temple’s hit.
Later, Otto ended up getting killed,
Damon did damage control,
Damon wrote “Otto would have been effective as
a bodyguard as a child aged two year old.
Damon died at 66, he had throat
cancer the year was 1946.
History’s first telethon of the nation,
washosted Milton Berle for
Damon Runyon Cancer Research Foundation.
Damon sounds like an interesting and a sensational writer,
I will read more of his writings to become brighter.

Written By Suzae Chevalier on September 24,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.puppetpoems.com

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Writer Damon Runyon

Shirley Temple launched her career,
with Littlest Miss Marker,
making her Best Star of the Year.
Damon Runyon wrote this story,
It was a drama, not very gory.
Damon wrote 'Guys and Dolls'
which is a Broadway musical,
Manhattan's Hell's Kitchen named after him
named Runyon's Way to this day.
He named his mobster friend Otto, Regret,
A horse player who used to bet.
now Regret is in Shirley Temple's hit.
Later, Otto ended up getting killed,
Damon did damage control,
Damon wrote 'Otto would have been effective as
a bodyguard as a child aged two year old.
Damon died at 66, he had throat
cancer the year was 1946.
History's first telethon of the nation,
washosted Milton Berle for
Damon Runyon Cancer Research Foundation.
Damon sounds like an interesting and a sensational writer,
I will read more of his writings to become brighter.

Written By Suzae Chevalier on September 24,2011
www.suzae.com www.puppetpoems.com
www.suzaria.com

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Have A Banana!

[Speech]
Brian Matthew: Is that it? Is that the end?
Paul: Yeah, yeah, that's it.
John: Fade, fade!
Brian: Good track. Oh, well, we'll stop there, stop there, stop there.
John: What an end!
Brian: Quiet! All right, George.
John: Fade!
Brian: Hold it!
George: Oh, thank you.
John: Fade, you silly.
Brian: Well, we did. We did that. Oh, no! No! We've done that bit!
John: The train comes in now.
Brian: We did that.
John: Yeah.
Brian: To pove we weren't playing the record, then, you see. 'Cause, otherwise, there's no point in you being here, is there? Ha, ha, ha!
John: Yeah, we did that, 'cause it sounds just like it, don't it?
Brian: Pretty cool lot of fellows, aren't you? Here, Ringo, have a banana, catch!

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Old Town Types No.2 - Red Matt

He gleaned all the gossip and he gathered all the news,
Mad Matt, the carrier, delivering the grub;
He knew the trooper's tattle and he knew the parson's views,
The gossip at the station-yard, the gossip at the pub.
That high-pitched voice of his, the loudest voice in town,
That shrewd blue eye of his, with humor all a-gleam -
Old Red Matt, with his cabbage-tree hat,
His trolley, and his two-horse team.

Driving down the main street a-clatter with his load,
The great red beard of him blowing out behind:
'Hear about that accident's mornin' up the road?
Hear about the gold rush at Joe Scott's find?
Warmish sort o' day we got; thirsty weather this.
Got a bag o' spuds for you - Dang! Fergot the cream!'
Says old Red Matt with his cabbage-tree hat,
And his trolley, and his two-horse team.

Mad Matt, the carrier, standing at the bar:
'Well here's a go, boys. Got to get along
Seven pints I've had today and still to travel far.
Drink fast and drive fast, yeh can't go wrong.
Fill 'em up again, boss, ans hove it on the slate.
Half-a-ton aboard today - just tipped the beam,'
Says old red Matt with the cabbage-tree hat,
And his trolley, and his two-horse team.

Sudden were his wild ways, sudden, too, his end.
Jumped to grab a bolting team with kiddie sin the trap;
And they picked up Mad Matt, everybody's friend,
Silent now and broken; and they said, 'Brave chap.
Wild an' all,' they said of him, 'always was a white man.'
And they laid him, with a blessing, where his old mates dream,
Saying, 'So long, Matt, with your cabbage-tree hat,
And your trolley, and your two-horse team.'

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Maybe I Was Damon In A Past Life

Maybe I was Damon Runyon in a past time
he died at age 66 which was the year I began my life.
I also write about someone I call the "Guy"
who maybe is kind of shy.
Damon wrote a play with Dolls & Guys
which was acted out in NYC—very true-not a lie.
I write about a Doll
who is cute and kind of small.
Damon also named his pet _____
almost like mine.
I write about a character with letter
beginning with N—
he was only a sponsor to me—
he wanted to be more than friends—
Just like Damon-
who writes about characters where
he actually supported them
in his writing he actually defends.
Damon also writes about baseball
I don't know baseball at all.
I am more of a poet who story-tells-
I write of the doll character nicknamed Mel.
See baseball is not my cup of tea—
but to Damon he was famous for
being a reporter known around the country.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 17,2012

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Damon Runyon In A Past Life?

Maybe I was Damon Runyon in a past time
he died at age 66 which was the year I began my life.
I also write about someone I call the 'Guy'
who maybe is kind of shy.
Damon wrote a play with Dolls & Guys
which was acted out in NYC—very true-not a lie.
I write about a Doll
who is cute and kind of small.
Damon also named his pet _____
almost like mine.
I write about a character with letter
beginning with N—
he was only a sponsor to me—
he wanted to be more than friends—
Just like Damon-
who writes about characters where
he actually supported them
in his writing he actually defends.
Damon also writes about baseball
I don't know baseball at all.
I am more of a poet who story-tells-
I write of the doll character nicknamed Mel.
See baseball is not my cup of tea—
but to Damon he was famous for
being a reporter known around the country.
He even wrote a character named Sarah Brown
I have a character Sarah who lives by a clown.
Little Miss Marker was a play he wrote-
I wrote a poem Little Miss Melodie who sings a note.
His grandfather was from New Jersey just like me
I see a lot of similarities-

Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 17,2012
www.suzae.com

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Maybe I Was Damon In A Past Life

Maybe I was Damon Runyon in a past time
he died at age 66 which was the year I began my life.
I also write about someone I call the 'Guy'
who maybe is kind of shy.
Damon wrote a play with Dolls & Guys
which was acted out in NYC—very true-not a lie.
I write about a Doll
who is cute and kind of small.
Damon also named his pet _____
almost like mine.
I write about a character with letter
beginning with N—
he was only a sponsor to me—
he wanted to be more than friends—
Just like Damon-
who writes about characters where
he actually supported them
in his writing he actually defends.
Damon also writes about baseball
I don't know baseball at all.
I am more of a poet who story-tells-
I write of the doll character nicknamed Mel.
See baseball is not my cup of tea—
but to Damon he was famous for
being a reporter known around the country.
He even wrote a character named Sarah Brown
I have a character Sarah who lives by a clown.
Little Miss Marker was a play he wrote-
I wrote a poem Little Miss Melodie who sings a note.
His grandfather was from New Jersey just like me
I see a lot of similarities-

Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 17,2012

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The Price of An Equipage

Servum si potes, Ole, non habere,
Et regem potes, Ole, non habere. Mart.

('If thou from Fortune dost no servant crave,
Believe me thou no master need'st to have.')

I ask'd a friend, amidst the throng,
Whose coach it was that trail'd along?
'The gilded coach there - don't ye mind?
That with the footmen stuck behind.'
'O Sir!' says he, 'what! han't you seen it?
'Tis Damon's Coach, and Damon in it.
'Tis odd, methinks, you have forgot
Your friend, your neighbour, and - what not!
Your old acquaintance Damon!' - 'True;
But faith his Equipage is new.'
'Bless me,' said I, 'where can it end?
That madness has possess'd my friend?
Four powder'd slaves, and those the tallest,
Their stomachs, doubtless, not the smallest!
Can Damon's revenue maintain,
In lace and food, so large a train?
I know his land - each inch of ground -
'Tis not a mile to walk it round -
If Damon's whole estate can bear
To keep his lad and one-horse chair,
I own 'tis past my comprehension.'
'Yes, Sir; but Damon has a pension.'
Thus does a false ambition rule us,
Thus pomp delude, and folly fool us;
To keep a race of flickering knaves,
He grows himself the worst of slaves.

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Eclogue VIII

TO POLLIO, DAMON, ALPHESIBOEUS

Of Damon and Alphesiboeus now,
Those shepherd-singers at whose rival strains
The heifer wondering forgot to graze,
The lynx stood awe-struck, and the flowing streams,
Unwonted loiterers, stayed their course to hear-
How Damon and Alphesiboeus sang
Their pastoral ditties, will I tell the tale.
Thou, whether broad Timavus' rocky banks
Thou now art passing, or dost skirt the shore
Of the Illyrian main,- will ever dawn
That day when I thy deeds may celebrate,
Ever that day when through the whole wide world
I may renown thy verse- that verse alone
Of Sophoclean buskin worthy found?
With thee began, to thee shall end, the strain.
Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee,
And deign around thy temples to let creep
This ivy-chaplet 'twixt the conquering bays.
Scarce had night's chilly shade forsook the sky
What time to nibbling sheep the dewy grass
Tastes sweetest, when, on his smooth shepherd-staff
Of olive leaning, Damon thus began.

Damon.
'Rise, Lucifer, and, heralding the light,
Bring in the genial day, while I make moan
Fooled by vain passion for a faithless bride,
For Nysa, and with this my dying breath
Call on the gods, though little it bestead-
The gods who heard her vows and heeded not.
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Ever hath Maenalus his murmuring groves
And whispering pines, and ever hears the songs
Of love-lorn shepherds, and of Pan, who first
Brooked not the tuneful reed should idle lie.
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Nysa to Mopsus given! what may not then
We lovers look for? soon shall we see mate
Griffins with mares, and in the coming age
Shy deer and hounds together come to drink.
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Now, Mopsus, cut new torches, for they bring
Your bride along; now, bridegroom, scatter nuts:
Forsaking Oeta mounts the evening star!
'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
O worthy of thy mate, while all men else
Thou scornest, and with loathing dost behold
My shepherd's pipe, my goats, my shaggy brow,

[...] Read more

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Can't Stop Won't Stop Remix Ft. Chingy

Can't Stop, Won't Stop (Chingy Remix) Lyrics
(feat. Chingy )
[Intro] Young Chris, Young Neef, and Chingy
[Young Chris:] Ok. . .Young Gunnaz. . .Ok.
[Young Chris:] That's right.
[Young Chris:] Young Gunz featuring Chingy.
[Chorus Young Chris, and Chingy in the brackets]
Can't Stop, Won't Stop Chingy, and the Gunnaz.
'Cause we, we get down baby, we get down.
The girls, the girls they love us (say what).
(Look she right thurr).
(Her man he right thurr).
[Verse #1 Young Neef]
Yup, It's only right that we make it a remix.
Young Gunnaz, and Chingy just to give it a lil' twist.
Next generation, you better stay focused.
Youngaz before they time, man you already know this.
Ball 'em, never call 'em, kick 'em out before their moment.
It seem like once you done, they start drawlin'.
You never have 'em, so you cuff 'em, when you grab him.
I treat 'em all the same, even the bad ones.
Go magnum, rose gold chain, for show aim.
Four four magnum, tell C and P when they done better blast 'em.
I be laid back, smokin' bags, playin' Madden.
You know we tap 'em, middle room, bathroom, living room, bathroom, sit at home cap 'em.
You got it, It's nothin' I had 'em, you can have 'em.
Seein' Neef we the streets, Gunnaz we the last one.
[Chorus Young Chris, and Chingy in the brackets]
Can't Stop, Won't Stop Chingy, and the Gunnaz.
'Cause we, we get down baby, we get down.
The girls, the girls they love us (say what).
(Look she right thurr).
(Her man he right thurr).
Can't Stop, Won't Stop Chingy, and the Gunnaz.
'Cause we, we get down baby, we get down.
The girls, the girls they love us (say what).
(Look she right thurr).
(Her man he right thurr).
[Verse #2 Chingy]
Man, I Can't Stop, Won't Stop.
Girl, quit actin' like ya can't pop, won't drop.
To the flo' I move crowds like I moved hop.
Man, '94 on the block, hand full on my jock.
You wanna' know, It's official when I step up in it.
You wanna' party, lemme' get the YG's, and we a be thurr in a minute.
Maybe chicken-head wit' it.
I'm in the Authentic, get it boy Jersey G.I.B hat fitted.
Runnin' ten a world, we did it (did what?)
Got the boxed up Benz, Range, and got both 'em get it.
Ching-aling, worldwide girl (worldwide girl).

[...] Read more

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Can't Stop Won't Stop Remix Ft. Chingy

Can't Stop, Won't Stop (Chingy Remix) Lyrics
(feat. Chingy )
[Intro] Young Chris, Young Neef, and Chingy
[Young Chris:] Ok. . .Young Gunnaz. . .Ok.
[Young Chris:] That's right.
[Young Chris:] Young Gunz featuring Chingy.
[Chorus Young Chris, and Chingy in the brackets]
Can't Stop, Won't Stop Chingy, and the Gunnaz.
'Cause we, we get down baby, we get down.
The girls, the girls they love us (say what).
(Look she right thurr).
(Her man he right thurr).
[Verse #1 Young Neef]
Yup, It's only right that we make it a remix.
Young Gunnaz, and Chingy just to give it a lil' twist.
Next generation, you better stay focused.
Youngaz before they time, man you already know this.
Ball 'em, never call 'em, kick 'em out before their moment.
It seem like once you done, they start drawlin'.
You never have 'em, so you cuff 'em, when you grab him.
I treat 'em all the same, even the bad ones.
Go magnum, rose gold chain, for show aim.
Four four magnum, tell C and P when they done better blast 'em.
I be laid back, smokin' bags, playin' Madden.
You know we tap 'em, middle room, bathroom, living room, bathroom, sit at home cap 'em.
You got it, It's nothin' I had 'em, you can have 'em.
Seein' Neef we the streets, Gunnaz we the last one.
[Chorus Young Chris, and Chingy in the brackets]
Can't Stop, Won't Stop Chingy, and the Gunnaz.
'Cause we, we get down baby, we get down.
The girls, the girls they love us (say what).
(Look she right thurr).
(Her man he right thurr).
Can't Stop, Won't Stop Chingy, and the Gunnaz.
'Cause we, we get down baby, we get down.
The girls, the girls they love us (say what).
(Look she right thurr).
(Her man he right thurr).
[Verse #2 Chingy]
Man, I Can't Stop, Won't Stop.
Girl, quit actin' like ya can't pop, won't drop.
To the flo' I move crowds like I moved hop.
Man, '94 on the block, hand full on my jock.
You wanna' know, It's official when I step up in it.
You wanna' party, lemme' get the YG's, and we a be thurr in a minute.
Maybe chicken-head wit' it.
I'm in the Authentic, get it boy Jersey G.I.B hat fitted.
Runnin' ten a world, we did it (did what?)
Got the boxed up Benz, Range, and got both 'em get it.
Ching-aling, worldwide girl (worldwide girl).

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song performed by Young GunzReport problemRelated quotes
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Romance Never Dies

a boy and girl walking home from school one day.
girl-so what are we doing tonight
boy-i dont know want to watch a movie
girl-sure what are we going to watch?
boy-not sure yet ill think of something
girl-lets watch a romance.
boy-nooo thats boyfriend girlfriend junk.
gurl-(sighs) but umm well...
boy- what? whats rong.
girl-i was just hoping.
boy-what? (confused)
walks to front door
boy-umm oook well ill see you later.
girl- yeah' right cya (frowns) as she walks away
girl goes over boys house and rings the doorbell boy answers

boy-Wow You look GREAT' thought we where just watching a movie.
girl-we are i just thought i would dress up a little.
boy-lol what ever
boy and girl sits on couch.
girl- soo what are we going to watch-gets closer.
boy-idk-backs up.
girl and boy start watching a horror flick
girl-hides face in boys chest.
boy-(smiles) kisses girls head.
girl-smiles back.
girl and boy look into eachers eyes.
boy-moves closer
girl-moves closer
boy and girl start kissing

Boy-i have loved you for so long im glad were togeather.
Girl-i loved you to i mean i love you so much does this mean were dating
Boy-yes and im glad im dating you.
A yr later still dating boy girl get into a fight
Girl-i have to go im sorry please just understand we cant see eacher anymore
Boy-please tell me why did i do something rong?
Girl- no no please just let it be where it is im sorry i love you bye
week after that night
Boy goes over girls house theres a moving truck.
Boy walks up...girl carrying boxes
Boy-why cant we see eacher anymore and whats going on with the trucks
Girl-im moving.
Boy-i noticed
Boy- where you moving to
Girl-Florida ill call you when i get there and settled
Girl- im sorry I have to go (starts to sob/cry)
Guy just stands there and watches girl leave. as a tear rolls down his cheek
3 years later.
Girl in collage now.and has moved on with her life

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(Undone) Sweater Song

Matt:] Hey bra, how we doin' man?
[Karl:] All right.
[Matt:] It's been a while man, life's so rad!
This band's my favorite man, don't ya love 'em?
[Karl:] Yeah.
[Matt:] Aw man, you want a beer?
[Karl:] All right.
[Matt:] Aw man, this is the best. I'm so glad we're all back together and stuff.
This is great, man.
[Karl:] Yeah.
[Matt:] Hey, did you know about the party after the show?
[Karl:] Yeah.
[Matt:] Aw man, it's gonna be the best, I'm so stoked! Take it easy bra'.
I'm me
Me be
Goddamn
I am
I can
Sing and
Hear me
Know me
If you want to destroy my sweater
Hold this thread as I walk away
[Mykel:] Hey, what's up?
[Karl:] Not much.
[Mykel:] Did you hear about the party?
[Karl:] Yeah.
[Mykel:] Um, I think I'm gonna go but, um, my friends don't really wanna go. Could I get a ride?
Oh no
It go
It gone
Bye-bye
Who I
I think
I sink
And I die
If you want to destroy my sweater
Hold this thread as I walk away
Watch me unravel, I'll soon be naked
Lying on the floor (lying on the floor)
I've come undone
If you want to destroy my sweater
Hold this thread as I walk away (as I walk away)
Watch me unravel, I'll soon be naked
Lying on the floor (lying on the floor)
I've come undone
I don't want to destroy your tank-top
Let's be friends and just walk away
It's good to see you lying there in your Superman skivvies
Lying on the floor (lying on the floor)

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song performed by WeezerReport problemRelated quotes
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The Invitation

DAMON.

Haste! Sylvia! haste, my charming Maid!
Let's leave these fashionable toys;
Let's seek the shelter of some shade,
And revel in ne'er fading joys.
See spring in liv'ry gay appears,
And winter's chilly blasts are fled;
Each grove its leafy honours rears,
And meads their lovely verdure spread!


SYLVIA.

Yes Damon, glad I'll quit the town,
Its gaities now languid seem;
Then sweets to luxury unknown
We'll taste, and sip th' untainted stream.
In Summer's sultry noon-tide heat,
I'll lead thee to the shady grove;
There hush thy cares, or pleas'd repeat
Those vows that won my soul to love.


DAMON.

When o'er the mountain peeps the dawn,
And round her ruddy beauties play,
I'll wake my Love to view the lawn,
Or hear the warblers hall the day.
But, without thee, the rising morn
In vain awakes the cooling breeze,
In vain does nature's face adorn;
Without my Sylvia nought can please.


SYLVIA.

At night, when universal gloom
Hides the bright prospect from our view,
When the gay groves give up their bloom,
And verdant meads their lovely hue;
Tho' fleeting spectres round me move,
When in thy circling arms I'm prest,
I'll hush my rising fears with love,
And sink in slumber on thy breast.


DAMON.

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A Pastoral Between Thirsis And Corydon, Upon The Death Of Damon, By Whom Is Meant Mr. W. Riddell

Thir.
Say, tell me true, what is the doleful cause
That Corydon is not the man he was?
Your cheerful presence used to lighten cares,
And from the plains to banish gloomy fears.
Whene'er unto the circling swains you sung
Our ravish'd souls upon the music hung;
The gazing, listening flocks forgot their meat,
While vocal grottos did your lays repeat:
But now your gravity our mirth rebukes,
And in your downcast and desponding looks
Appears some fatal and impending woe;
I fear to ask, and yet desire to know.

Cor.
The doleful news, how shall I, Thirsis, tell!
In blooming youth the hapless Damon fell:
He's dead, he's dead, and with him all my joy;
The mournful thought does all gay forms destroy:
This is the cause of my unusual grief,
Which sullenly admits of no relief.

Thir.
Begone all mirth! begone all sports and play,
To a deluge of grief and tears give way.
Damon the just, the generous, and the young,
Must Damon's worth and merit be unsung?
No, Corydon, the wondrous youth you knew
How as in years so he in virtue grew;
Embalm his fame in never dying verse,
As a just tribute to his doleful hearse.

Cor.
Assist me, mighty grief, my breast inspire
With generous heats and with thy wildest fire,
While in a solemn and a mournful strain
Of Damon gone for ever I complain.
Ye muses, weep; your mirth and songs forbear,
And for him sigh and shed a friendly tear;
He was your favourite, and by your aid
In charming verse his witty thoughts array'd;
He had of knowledge, learning, wit, a store,
To it denied he still press'd after more.
He was a pious and a virtuous soul,
And still press'd forward to the heavenly goal;
He was a faithful, true, and constant friend,
Faithful, and true, and constant to the end.
Ye flowers, hang down and droop your heads,
No more around your grateful odours spread;
Ye leafy trees, your blooming honours shed,

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