High Time
Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
I flip the switch on my laser video
And theres the man staring back at me
He starts to speak in a voice so righteous
About the sins of society
Hes got answers to all my problems
Says hell decide what I should hear and see
I try to change to another station
But all I get is more of his morality
And morality, yeah
But I see the kids of a new generation
And they wont stand for this mind control
Theyre gonna change this world we live in
Theyre gonna bring back the rock and roll
So if I can, Im gonna break from this prison
Gonna get out and join in the fight
Take a chance on what I believe in
Win or lose, I know its right
cause its high time
For us to start a revolution
High time
Just like an a-bomb explosion
High time
It aint the music thats in question
High time
Its more the freedom of expression
Change is comin
Mind police are comin
Were on the move
The old world is crumblin
A new days comin
Tell your friends and relations
Were on the move
Were gonna start a rockin nation
High time
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
High time
Were gonna start a revolution
High time
[scatting] everybody lay back now I tell you why...
[roboto]
Ive been instructed to inform you that your privileges have been penalized.
Your avoidance tactics have proven disappointing.
[kilroy]
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
Up yours, roboto!
[roboto]
No deviance, kilroy!
High time
[...] Read more
song performed by Styx
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Related quotes
Loop De Loop
(laughter)
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Have you ever been in airplane
When the flyin circus comes to town
Count your change
You can come and walk the wing with me
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop take away an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Peepin and a-hidin in and out of the cloud
The leader lost a hanky wavin down at the crowd
The barnstorm down but the rooster on the weather vane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop take away an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Huffin and a-puffin flyin high as she can
A patchwork quilt stretches over the land
Well toss and tumble and sail her right in to the sun
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop gotcha in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
(loop de loop flip flop flyin in an aeroplane)
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
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Santas Got An Airplane
Loop de loop flip flop santas got an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop santas hearts full of joy
Loop de loop flip flop santas got a new toy
If youre up a little late on christmas eve this year
And youre waiting for that pudgy person to appear
Instead of the patter of tiny feet you will hear
cause loop de loop flip flop santas got an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop santas hearts full of joy
Loop de loop flip flop santas got a new toy
He skydives down to the chimney with ease
Parachutes a package to the whole family
Its santas air special delivery to under your tree
Oh, well, loop de loop flip flop santas got an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop santas hearts full of joy
Loop de loop flip flop santas got a new toy
Santa and rudy sittin at the controls
A buncha sleepy helpers waiting back at the pole
They know where they are cause they navigate by the stars!
cause loop de loop flip flop santas got an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop santas hearts full of joy
Loop de loop flip flop santas got a new toy
Loop de loop flip flop santas got an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop flyin in an airplane
Loop de loop flip flop santas hearts full of joy
Loop de loop flip flop santas got a new toy
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
Loop de loop flip flop fly away
song performed by Beach Boys
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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?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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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
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Romeo
My baby wears his heart on his sleeve
He wears a look on his face that says please please please
Love it everything he flaunts love it
Everything he vaunts I just cant hesitate
When he wants what he wants
Oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka
And I said oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka
Last night he calls me on the telephone
You know at two in the morning I just want to sleep on
But he got a way with words and
He got a way with charm
You know at three in the morning hes back into my arms
And I said oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka
And I said oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes my romeo oh, oh
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes my r-o-m-e-o, romeo
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes my romeo oh, oh
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes mine
My my romeo, my my romeo, my my romeo, my my romeo
He looks so good the girls stop and stare
But I soon wanna look with his double dark hair
Im not gonna let him go
Im not taking any chance
Its a one in million mad mad romance
Oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka
Oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka, oh chucka
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes my romeo oh, oh
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes my r-o-m-e-o, romeo
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes my romeo oh, oh
Hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy, hes the boy
Hes mine, romeo
My my romeo, my my romeo
Hes my romeo
My my romeo
Hes my romeo
My my romeo, hes my romeo
My romeo..
song performed by Donna Summer
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The Video Shop
The local factorys been pulled down
By an overseas corporation
Now all of my brothers are looking around
For alternative occupation
I was sitting by the telly with my brother, kenny
When suddenly the penny dropped
While all of my brothers are sitting at home
Ive got a bank loan and Ive opened up my very own
Video shop
Video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
Comedy and tragedy are all sitting on my shelf
And if youve got a fantasy
For a small rental fee
You can set yourself free
At my video shop
At my video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
At the video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
From all of the depression in you head
Caused by all the living in the red
Ive got a bootleg version of citizen kane
A second hand copy of psycho
Ive taped them off the telly so you shouldnt complain
And theres no guarantee youll get your money back again
From my video shop
My video shop
If you want to escape, I can rent you a tape
To relieve your situation
If you feel a bit low, I got a good peep show
cos everybody knows almost anything goes
At my video shop
At my video shop
One fifty a day and Ill fly, fly you away
Its nothing to pay to fly far, far away
I can help you through that lonely night
Ive got technicolour, black and white
I can guide you through those empty days
Make you smile and take your blues away
O let me fly you away
At my video shop
Fly, fly you away
Another factorys been knocked down
But nobody ever complains
And all of my brothers are customers now
We all play video games
I can see it in the eyes of all the lonely wives
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song performed by Kinks
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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.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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A Map Of Culture
Culture
Contents
What is Culture?
The Importance of Culture
Culture Varies
Culture is Critical
The Sociobiology Debate
Values, Norms, and Social Control
Signs and Symbols
Language
Terms and Definitions
Approaches to the Study of Culture
Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?
What is Culture?
I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .
Back to Contents
[...] Read more
poem by Nyein Way
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Eighth Book
ONE eve it happened when I sate alone,
Alone upon the terrace of my tower,
A book upon my knees, to counterfeit
The reading that I never read at all,
While Marian, in the garden down below,
Knelt by the fountain (I could just hear thrill
The drowsy silence of the exhausted day)
And peeled a new fig from that purple heap
In the grass beside her,–turning out the red
To feed her eager child, who sucked at it
With vehement lips across a gap of air
As he stood opposite, face and curls a-flame
With that last sun-ray, crying, 'give me, give,'
And stamping with imperious baby-feet,
(We're all born princes)–something startled me,–
The laugh of sad and innocent souls, that breaks
Abruptly, as if frightened at itself;
'Twas Marian laughed. I saw her glance above
In sudden shame that I should hear her laugh,
And straightway dropped my eyes upon my book,
And knew, the first time, 'twas Boccaccio's tales,
The Falcon's,–of the lover who for love
Destroyed the best that loved him. Some of us
Do it still, and then we sit and laugh no more.
Laugh you, sweet Marian! you've the right to laugh,
Since God himself is for you, and a child!
For me there's somewhat less,–and so, I sigh.
The heavens were making room to hold the night,
The sevenfold heavens unfolding all their gates
To let the stars out slowly (prophesied
In close-approaching advent, not discerned),
While still the cue-owls from the cypresses
Of the Poggio called and counted every pulse
Of the skyey palpitation. Gradually
The purple and transparent shadows slow
Had filled up the whole valley to the brim,
And flooded all the city, which you saw
As some drowned city in some enchanted sea,
Cut off from nature,–drawing you who gaze,
With passionate desire, to leap and plunge,
And find a sea-king with a voice of waves,
And treacherous soft eyes, and slippery locks
You cannot kiss but you shall bring away
Their salt upon your lips. The duomo-bell
Strikes ten, as if it struck ten fathoms down,
So deep; and fifty churches answer it
The same, with fifty various instances.
Some gaslights tremble along squares and streets
The Pitti's palace-front is drawn in fire:
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Fly Away
When the world changes, you adjust
So, on this joint right here we about to take flight ya'll
(Oo ooo)Check it out ya'll (Oo ooo)check it out ya'll
Yo Fergie what ya gonna do? (flip it out)
Yeah, what we came to do, show these people how we gonna do (mix it up)
Yeah, its Black Eyed Peas ya'll
So, check it out (ay)
You're here, so gone
this dark has got suddenly turned into dawn
I know you've already been here too long, too long, too long
Although you won't see me fall from grace
You step on my soul as you walk away
My demise you'll never know
I'm letting you go
(Fly away now)
Flip it up Flip it up get back on the truck
Got to keep moving keep reppin' it up
Mix it up Mix it up time for the next stop
You got to go now and fill up your cup ?
(Fly away now,fly away now)
Switch it up Switch it up go hop on that bus
Don't need to blow the horn I'll be tough, hey
You take me from me
With you forever, but darling I see
The world is who you belong to, not me
So I set you free
(Fly away now)
Flip it up Flip it up get back on the truck
Got to keep moving keep reppin' it up
Mix it up Mix it up time for the next stop
You got to go now and fill up your cup ?
(Fly away now, fly away now)
Switch it up Switch it up go hop on that bus
Don't need to blow the horn I'll be tough, hey
I be fallin' up never fallin' down
'Cause I spread my wings and I glide around town
Fly, lover go
Find your nest,find your home
(Uh uh oh,uh uh uh oh)
I miss you so
Spread your wings, let it flow
(Uh uh oh, uh uh uh oh)
I be fallin' up never fallin' down
'Cause I keep it on a higher level, elevated ground
Flip it up Flip it up get back on the truck
Got to keep moving keep reppin' it up
Mix it up Mix it up time for the next stop
You got to go and fill yourself
Bout to get gone baby (fly away now)Yeah, get it gone now (fly away now)
Switch it up Switch it up go hop on that bus
[...] Read more
song performed by Black Eyed Peas
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Lead Balloon
Kiss my ass! I said
And I threw my drink
Tequila trickling
Down his business suit
Must be the irish blood
Fight before you think
Turn it now
You cant cowtow
You cant undo it
Its his town
And that went down
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
He said sic her, rover
That went over
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
An angry man is just an angry man
But an angry woman
Bitch!
I had to ask him for a helping hand
It came with the heart
Of a bonaparte
Of a frozen fish
Its his town
And that went down
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
He said sic her, rover
That went over
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
Lead balloon, lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon, lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon, lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
Its his town
And that went down
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead balloon
He said sic her, rover
That went over
Like a lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead lead lead lead balloon
Lead balloon
song performed by Joni Mitchell
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Hard Rock Kid
(tom lang/additional lyrics by myles goodwyn & mike stone)
Published by goody two tunes, inc./additional publishers - bmi
The boy inside the man, looks hard into the night
The neighborhood cant get to sleep
The stereo is playing something hard and fast
The boy is tough, he plays for keeps
No ones gonna tell him hes too wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
In the shadows, theres a heart thats beating strong
And through the night, he feels the heat
Hes like a stranger as he dances on the stage
Hes made a promise that he cant keep
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a hungry child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a fine line, its a hard time, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
She watches as he turns, pretending not to care
And yet she knows the way he feels
The need for love so strong, together they can win
For now the musics all thats real
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
song performed by April Wine
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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.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Video Crime
Aint got room for charity
Skeletons man
Me, Im crawling with no cash
Chop it up
Me, Im looking for hot flesh
Chop it up
This skeletons mine
Chop it up
Chop it up
Blood on video-video crime
Video crime
Needles and pins and video crime
Video crime
Ive got dollars-Ive got sense
Wonder where the third world went
Aint got time for honeymoon
Chop it up
Trash time bundy, death row chic
Chop it up
Haunt this street from half past ten
Chop it up
Blood on video-video crime
Video crime
Needles and pins and video crime
Video crime
Late night cannibal-cripples decay
Just cant tear my eyes away
Aint got no room for charity
This skeletons mine
Aint got room for hollywood
Chop it up
Me, Im crawling with no cash
Chop it up
Blood on video-video crime
Video crime
Needles and pins and video crime
Video crime
Ive got dollars Ive got sense
Wonder where the third world went
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
Video crime
Chop it up
song performed by David Bowie
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Problems
I wont take no lies, hanging out all night
The gig is up, enough, its enough
Youre wrong, dead wrong, wont take no more
Cause I see your game and dumb is not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
Got love for you, but I cant stand you
I page you, you wont call
Whats a 2-way for
Strike one, strike two, strike three, no more me
Cause I see the game and dumbs not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
We can do this any way that
You want cause I dont care
Its no problem and Im not the one
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
[over chorus]
Its plain to see, you cant have me
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song performed by Nivea
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Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Cenci : A Tragedy In Five Acts
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Count Francesco Cenci.
Giacomo, his Son.
Bernardo, his Son.
Cardinal Camillo.
Orsino, a Prelate.
Savella, the Pope's Legate.
Olimpio, Assassin.
Marzio, Assassin.
Andrea, Servant to Cenci.
Nobles, Judges, Guards, Servants.
Lucretia, Wife of Cenci, and Step-mother of his children.
Beatrice, his Daughter.
The Scene lies principally in Rome, but changes during the Fourth Act to Petrella, a castle among the Apulian Apennines.
Time. During the Pontificate of Clement VIII.
ACT I
Scene I.
-An Apartment in the Cenci Palace.
Enter Count Cenci, and Cardinal Camillo.
Camillo.
That matter of the murder is hushed up
If you consent to yield his Holiness
Your fief that lies beyond the Pincian gate.-
It needed all my interest in the conclave
To bend him to this point: he said that you
Bought perilous impunity with your gold;
That crimes like yours if once or twice compounded
Enriched the Church, and respited from hell
An erring soul which might repent and live:-
But that the glory and the interest
Of the high throne he fills, little consist
With making it a daily mart of guilt
As manifold and hideous as the deeds
Which you scarce hide from men's revolted eyes.
Cenci.
The third of my possessions-let it go!
Ay, I once heard the nephew of the Pope
Had sent his architect to view the ground,
Meaning to build a villa on my vines
The next time I compounded with his uncle:
I little thought he should outwit me so!
[...] Read more
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems
SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III
The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems
March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan
Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.
Sincerely,
George W. Bush
SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III
Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.
They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.
The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.
They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.
The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.
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poem by Tom Zart
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Emotional
Ooh yeah yeah yeah
Here comes the soul
Gimme that soul
Ooh hes emotional
Hes an emotional man
Sacrify the day
And bless the night
Want you to come and do me
Ooh hes emotional
Hes an emotional man
Hes got tears in his eyes
Watch him break down and cry
Watch me cry
Hear me babe
Was soll ich dir noch sagen
Es ist doch alles schon gesagt
Ohne uns sind wir die hlfte wert
Wir gehn vorbei und sehn es nicht
Hes a desperate man in a world so cold
Und du weit, ich habe ein herz wie ein lwe
Hes just longing for a woman to hold
Und das herz geht so lange zum messer bis es sticht
Do me
Ooh hes emotional
Hes an emotional man
So emotional
I had my woman right here
I had her in the palm of my hand
Want you to come and do me
Ooh hes emotional
So emotional
Hes an emotional man
Hes got tears in his eyes
Watch him break down and cry
Watch me cry
Still hear me babe
Ich wei, da die frau die mich ertrgt noch nicht geboren ist
Aber ich bitte dich, komm zur welt
Hes a desperate man in a world so cold
Und du weit, ich habe ein herz wie ein lwe
Hes just longing for a woman to hold
Und wenn du willst, dann geh ich down on my knees and pray to
The spirits above, do me
Ooh hes emotional
So emotional
Hes an emotional man
I had my woman right here
I had her in the palm of my hand
Want you to come and do me
Ooh hes emotional
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song performed by Falco
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I. The Ring and the Book
Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.
Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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