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Smell Of Money

(intro)
One more day, with a tumble fall,
Down the money pit, with nothing to show
Hey hey yeah
Another twist, in the horror tale
Its an open coffin, that needs one more nail
Smell of money
Maybe Im a victim, (soft silk and bamboo? )
Maybe its the smell of money
Attracts me to you...
Hey hey yeah money
Two clean shirts
Im out on bail
As the barroom baits
They start to wail
The smell of money
Maybe Im a victim, (soft silk and bamboo? )
Maybe its the smell of money,
That brings me to you
Stretched out across the ceiling
? ? domes shimmer and glow
Golden citadels
While the autumn wind billows and flows
(instrumental)
Dancing nights, in the lost and found
Move really nice to that money sound
Smell of money, smell of money,
Smell of money, smell of money
I need
I bleed
(sudden stop)

song performed by Ufo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah,yeah

I love you baby since we were at school
I didnt show it I was a fool
You were burning I was cold as ice
And baby now I realize
Oh yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
I gave you misery I gave you lies
I never hurt you, apologize
I love your lips I love your eyes
I love your breasts I love your thighs
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Now all I can do is hope and pray
That youll forgive me before its too late
Theres only one thing I can say to you
You know I love you you know its true
Oh yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)

song performed by Pogues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Twist

Well youve got me working so hard lately
Working my hands until they bleed
If I was twice the man I could be
Id still be half of what you need
Still you lead me and I follow
The small of your back up to your chin
Over to the tip of your switchblade
As you pull it out as you stick it in
(twist twist twist) it can go a little deeper
(twist twist twist) Im wear
T) it can go a little deeper
(twist twist twist) Im wearing these chains
(twist twist twist) you make it hurt real good
(twist twist twist) (but? ) I love the pain
(twist twist twist) it can go a little deeper
(twist twist twist) Im wearing these chains
(twist twist twist) you make it hurt real good
(twist twist twist) I love the pain
(twist twist twist)
(twist twist twist)
(twist twist twist)
(twist twist twist)
Turn it on
Quietly says:
Is this on? oh [questionable]
* Im so tired I cant get to sleep
* and the squeaking of the bed
* is right in time with the song thats
* repeating in my head
Its uncomforting to rember how you used to like a good f**k
Every once in awhile
* I just want(ed) you to know (that)
* when I do it, I only think of you
* = quoted from end of ringfinger (the extra lyrics printed at the end
Of the song in pretty hate machine)

song performed by Nine Inch Nails
Added by Lucian Velea
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Show Me Love

(spoken) Hello
This was an accident
Not the kind where sorrow sounds
Never even noticed
We're suddenly crumbling
Tell me how you've never felt
Delicate or innocent
Do you still have doubts that
Us having faith makes any sense
Tell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses 'cause
There's no way to turn around
Staring at your photograph
Everything now in the past
Never felt so lonely
I wish that you could show me love
Shov me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til you open that door
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til I'm up off the floor
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til it's inside my pores
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
Show me love
'Til I'm screaming for more
Random acts of mindlessness
Commonplace occurences
Chances and surprises
Another state of consciousness
Tell me nothing ever counts
Lashing out or breaking down
Still somebody loses 'cause
There's no way to turn around
Tell me how you've never felt

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song performed by Tatu
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Smell Of Money

(intro)
One more day, with a tumble fall,
Down the money pit, with nothing to show
Hey hey yeah
Another twist, in the horror tale
It's an open coffin, that needs one more nail
Smell of money
Maybe I'm a victim, (Soft silk and bamboo?)
Maybe it's the smell of money
Attracts me to you...
Hey hey yeah money
Two clean shirts
I'm out on bail
As the barroom baits
They start to wail
The smell of money
Maybe I'm a victim, (Soft silk and bamboo?)
Maybe it's the smell of money,
that brings me to you
Stretched out across the ceiling
?? Domes shimmer and glow
Golden citadels
While the autumn wind billows and flows
(instrumental)
Dancing nights, in the lost and found
Move really nice to that money sound
Smell of money, smell of money,
smell of money, smell of money
I need
I bleed
(sudden stop)

song performed by Ufo
Added by Lucian Velea
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IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

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

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Wanna Be Startin Somethin

Chorus
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
1st verse
I took my baby to the doctor
With a fever, but nothing he found
By the time this hit the street
They said she had a breakdown
Someones always tryin to start my baby cryin
Talkin, squealin, lyin
Sayin you just wanna be startin somethin
Chorus
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)
And the pain is thunder (yeah, yeah)
2nd verse
You love to pretend that youre good
When youre always up to no good
You really cant make him hate her
So your tongue became a razor
Someones always tryin to keep my baby cryin
Treacherous, cunnin, declinin
You got my baby cryin
Chorus
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
I said you wanna be startin somethin
You got to be startin somethin
Its too high to get over (yeah, yeah)
Too low to get under (yeah, yeah)
Youre stuck in the middle (yeah, yeah)

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song performed by Michael Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Baby Loves Me

BY SYLVIA MOY, WILLIAM STEVENSON AND IVY HUNTER
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My baby loves me, oh yeah
And my baby needs me, oh yeah
No other girl can whisper sweet things in my ear
My sweetie pie has the only sweet voice I hear so clear
Sayin' that she needs me
(You know she really, really needs me)
Oh yeah, yeah (Oh yeah)
My baby loves me
(You know she really, really loves me)
Oh yeah, yeah (Oh yeah)
I can't seem to see no other beautiful face, oh no
There's just no cute substitute can take my baby's place
'Cause I know she needs me
(You know she really, really needs me)
Woh, woh, yeah, yeah (Oh yeah)
Now I will never, ever give my baby no trouble
Whenever she calls me I come runnin' on the turbo
'Cause I know she needs me
(You know she really, really needs me)
Oh yeah, yeah (Oh yeah)
My baby needs me
(You know she really, really needs me)
Oh yeah, yeah (Oh yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Now nobody can't tell me the place that I'm going wrong, oh no
Nobody could ever embrace the love so strong, so strong
'Cause I know she needs me
(You know she really, really needs me)
She told me that she needs me (oh yeah)
My baby loves me
(You know she really, really loves me)
Oh yeah, yeah (Oh yeah, yeah)
My baby loves me

song performed by Barry Manilow
Added by Lucian Velea
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Happy People

Ladies and Gentlemen
This here's another one for the steppers
DJ Wayne Williams put the Record on
Woah-ohh-ohh... yeah, oh yeah
Woah (whoa...) yeah (follow me, follow me, follow me) woah
Tell me what do we do when the DJ's playing our favourite groove?
(We step) to when? (The whole night through)
And what do we do when we're all dressed up and in the mood?
(We step) to what? (A stepper's groove)
Where do we go soon as the weekend gets here?
(The club) why? (To party and have some fun)
What is it that can come and take away all your stress, tell me?
(Music) no further questions you have passed my test
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) ohh
Keeps the world (yeah, yeah) (turning) oh yeah (turning) I believe it
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) ohh
Keeps us all (yeah, yeah) (dancing) dancing (dancing) oh whoa
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) yeah
Keeps us all(yeah, yeah) (stepping) stepping (stepping) ooh, and
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) oh-oh
Keeps the music (yeah, yeah) (grooving, grooving)
Tell me... now what do you do (what do you do) when the feeling has come over you (yeah... oh)
(You let go) and what? (let it take control) (whoa)
Ladies, what do you say when a gentlemen asks you to dance, you (ooh)
(say yes) and then? (Get on the dance floor)
Even when it seems we're going through some hard times, what do we do?
(Keep smiling) 'cause we know (we're gonna make it through)
Now, what is it that can come and take away all your stress, tell me? (No stress)
(Music) no further questions, you have passed my test
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) whoo
Keeps the world (yeah, yeah) (turning) turning (turning) oh I believe it
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) whoo
Keep us (yeah, yeah) (dancing) dancing, dancing (dancing)
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah) yeah
Keep us (yeah, yeah) (stepping) keep us stepping (stepping)
Happy people (yeah, yeah, yeah)(happy people) oh-oh
Keeps us yeah(yeah, yeah) (grooving) grooving (grooving)
I just wanna get dressed and go out, yeah
(I wanna get dressed, I wanna go out) ohh
(Can you tell me where the spot is?)
Where they're partying all night (yeah)
And everybody's having a good time (yeah, yeah)
(I wanna get live, I wanna get loud) (yeah, whoo)
(Can you tell me where the spot is?) (Take me to that place)
Come on take me to that place (take me to that place)
Where there are nothing but happy...
Woah... yeah
(Happy) ohh
(Happy) ooh
(Happy)

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song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
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Social Netowrking Of Robots

end of world war
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end of ww 1
end of ww2 for japanese americans
end of ww-ii
end of ww2 battleship
end of wrold war 2
end of ww11

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Only Way To Control Things

The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Water on rock
a fist can't do anything to stop the rain
that keeps washing its bloody knuckles
by kissing the raw red buds
of the pain-killing poppies clean.
Anger grows ashamed of itself
in the presence of unopposable compassion
just as planets are humbled by their atmospheres.
The soft supple things of life insist
and the hard brittle ones comply.
Bullies are the broken toys of wimps.
Power limps.
But space is an open hand.
Mass may shape it
but it teaches matter how to move
just as the sky converts its openness
into a cloud and a bird
or the silence nurtures
the embryo of a blue word
in the empty womb of the dark mother
like the echo of something that can't be said.

The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Not a posture of giving.
Not a posture of receiving.
Not a posture of greeting or farewell.
Not hanging on or letting go
but the single bridge they both make
when they're both at peace with the flow.
It's not the branch it's not the trunk
it's not the root it's not the fruit
but the open handedness of its leaves
that is a tree's consummate passion.
Isis tattoos her star on their palms
like sailors and sails
to keep them from drowning
and into the valleys of their open hands
that lie at the foot of their crook-backed mountains
the aloof stars risk the intimacy of fireflies
and fate flows down like tributaries into the mindstream
as life roots its wildflowers on both shores
as if there were no sides to the flowing
of our binary lifelines.

The only way to control things is with an open hand.
You cannot bind the knower to the knowing
as if time had to know where eternity was going
before anything could change.
X marks the spot where all maps are born

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poem by Patrick White
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Girls Get The Bass In The Back (feat. Bounty Killer) (Hey Baby Remix)

Hey baby, baby (4x)
All the boys say
Hey, hey... (2x)
All the boys say (3x)
Hey, hey... (2x)
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
I'm the kind of girl
That hangs with the guys
Like a fly in the wall
With my secret eyes
Taking it in
Try to be feminine
With my make-up bag
Watching all the sin
Misfit, I sit
Lit up, wicked
Everybody is surrounded by the girls
With the tank tops and the flirty words
I'm just sipping on chamomile
I'm watching boys and girls and their sex appeal
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom
And went to my high school
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Girls say, girls say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Hey baby, baby
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
Boys say, boys say
Hey baby, hey baby, hey
All the boys get the girls in the back
I'm the one they feed upon
Give a bit a star is born
And if you have enough you'll get the pass
And you can tell your friends how you made it back
No matter what they say I'm still the same
Somehow everybody knows my name
And all the girls wanna get with the boys
And the boys really like it
All the boys say
Hey baby, hey baby
Girls say, girls say

[...] Read more

song performed by No Doubt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Freakin It

Im bout to freak this
Ha ha ha ha
What what what what
Uh big will uh Im bout to freak this
What you want me to freak this
Just peep it while I freak this
Aiight aiight
Im bout to freak this full out the king of the hill
Big will keepin it real knees to the grill
The whole set on lock down making you flock down
To where Im at to hear my rap
I be that cat that set trends
Where yall at
On the corner with your freinds
Heard you screamin about cream in your rap kid
Yo my last check for wild wild west came on a flat bed
Once and for all lets get this straight
How you measure a rapper what make an mc great
Is it the sales 20mill
Is it the cars bentlys
Is it the women jada
Is it the money please
Mr clean yet the fact remain
Got girls that dont speak english screamin my name
All you rappers yellin bout who you put in a hearse
Do me a favour write one verse without a curse
Im bout to freak this yeah yeah
What you want me to freak this yeah yeah
Dont sleep Im gonna freak this yeah yeah
Yo its smooth when I freak this yeah yeah
Lay back Im bout to freak this yeah yeah
Peep this when I freak this yeah yeah
Lay on back Im bout to freak this yeah yeah
What you want me to freak this yeah yeah
I dont wanna see yall sittin around dont wanna see yall sittin around
I dont wanna see yall sittin around dont wanna see yall sittin around
Aiight one more give dejavu
Up the chart yo yall see the way I flew
Cant nobody do this the way I do
You like how I freaky freak this say I do I do
Haters sick of the hits like the witch of the west no body wicked as this
I read in rap pages they refer to me as soft
Yeah more like microsoft
Will gates of the rap game
Quintessential megalomaniac
Whats my rap name big will
Im the man not conceited Im as good as I say I am
Dang diggy dang da dang da dang diggy diggy
Back withe the track masters to bang jiggy jiggy
Yo every time time I shoot I score

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer in the evening;
Soccer in the morning;
Soccer in spring and fall.

Soccer in the raining;
Soccer in the snowing;
Soccer in winter and summer.

Soccer in between my feet,
where I walk;
Soccer in my heart and mind,
how I live;
Soccer my love and life.

Soccer I wake up and play;
Soccer I hold it to sleep;
Soccer my work and rest.

Soccer I sing a new song;
Soccer I dance the magic steps;
Soccer my tears and joy.

Soccer my Mom buys it for me to play;
Soccer my Dad brings me to the game;
Soccer my dear Love watches me to score.

Soccer I dribble and shoot;
Soccer I pass and fall;
Soccer my glory and downfall.

Soccer I strike to attack;
Soccer I tackle to defend;
Soccer my struggle and survival.

Soccer I receive the flags and the whistles;
Soccer I get the yellow and red card;
Soccer my moves and stop.

Soccer I meet my friends;
Soccer I make my enemies;
Soccer my conflict and peace.

Soccer I play and watch;
Soccer I watch but cannot play;
Soccer my dream and reality.

Soccer I learn the rights;
Soccer I confess the fouls;

[...] Read more

poem by Laijon Liu
Added by Poetry Lover
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Mony Mony 'Live'

Here she come down, say "Mony, Mony"
Well, shoot 'em down, turn around, come home, honey
Hey!, she gimme love an' I feel alright now
Everybody! You got me tossin' turnin' in the night, make me
feel alright
I say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Well you make me feel Mony, Mony
So Mony, Mony
Good Mony, Mony
Yeah! Mony, Mony
So good! Mony, Mony
Oh, yeah! Mony, Mony
Come on! Mony, Mony
All right, baby! Mony, Mony
Say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Break 'dis, shake 'dis, Mony, Mony
Shot gun, get it done, come on, honey
Don't stop cookin', it feels so good, yeah
Hey! Well don't stop now, hey, come on Mony, well come on,
Mony
I say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Well you make me feel Mony, Mony
So Mony, Mony
Good Mony, Mony
Yeah! Mony, Mony
So good! Mony, Mony
Oh, yeah! Mony, Mony
Come on! Mony, Mony
All right, baby! Mony, Mony
I say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Oo, I love your Mony, moan, moan, Mony
Oo, I love your Mony, moan, moan, Mony
Oo, I love your Mony, moan, moan, Mony
Oo, I love your Mony, moan, moan, Mony
I say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
Come on! Mony, Mony
Come on! Mony, Mony
Come on! Mony, Mony
Mony, Mony
Mony, Mony
Mony, Mony
Mony, Mony

song performed by Billy Idol
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Learned To Stutter/coffin Car

Recorded live 3 june 1973 at the first international feminist conference, harvard university, cambridge, ma.
While john is setting up the amp...
What happened to me was that I was living as an artist and, who had relative freedom
As a woman and was considered the bitch in the society.
Since I met john, I was upgraded into a witch and I was...and I think that thats very flattering.
Anyway, what I learned from being with john is that the society solely treated me as a woman, as a woman who belonged to a man who is one of the most powerful people in our generation, and some of his closest friends told me that probably I should stay in the background, I should shut up, I should give up my work and that way Ill be happy.
And I got those advises, I was luck, I was over thirty and it was too late for me to change,
But still, still, this is one thing I want to say, sisters, because, with the wish that you know
Youre not alone, i...because the whole society started to attack me and the whole society wished me dead, I started accumulating a tremendous amount of guilt complex and in result of that I started to stutter. and I consider myself a very eloquent woman and also an attractive woman all my life and suddenly, because I was associated to john, that was considered an ugly woman, ugly jap, who took your monument or something away from you.
And thats when I realised how hard it is for woman, if I can start to stutter, being a strong woman and having lived thirty years by then, learn to stutter in three years of being treated as such, it is a very hard road.
Now the next song is called coffin car and this is a song that I observed in myself and also in many sisters who are riding on coffin cars.
Okay
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car,
Shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husbands taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
Coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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