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Nobility is what is earned by those who have no other earnings.

Chinese proverbs
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Like You Have Earned It

You do nothing at all,
But want to get paid.
And this you insist!

All you want to do,
Is play a childish game.
With sweetened innocence.

Then you want to lay up and sleep all day,
Like you have earned it.

Then you snap your fingers with the giving of orders.
Like you have earned it.

Nobody here is your slave for a day.
Like you have earned it.

Or turn around and give you their hard earned dollar,
Like you have earned it!

While you eat up everything like it's okay.
Like you have earned it!

Oh...
You do nothing all day but want to get paid.
And this you insist.

All you want to do,
Is play a childish game.
With sweetened innocence.

Then you snap your fingers with the giving of orders.
Like you have earned it.

Nobody here is your slave for a day.
Like you have earned it.

Or turn around and give you their hard earned dollar,
Like you have earned it!

While you eat up everything like it's okay.
Like you have earned it!

Then you snap your fingers with the giving of orders.
Like you have earned it.

Nobody here is your slave for a day.
Like you have earned it.

Or turn around and give you their hard earned dollar,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Just Havent Earned It Yet, Baby

If youre wondering why
All the love that you long for eludes you
And people are rude and cruel to you
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
You just havent earned it yet, baby
You just havent earned it, son
You just havent earned it yet, baby
You must suffer and cry for a longer time
You just havent earned it yet, baby
And Im telling you now ...
If youre wondering why
When all I wanted from life was to be famous
I have tried for so long, its all gone wrong
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
But you wouldnt believe me
You just havent earned it yet, baby
You just havent earned it, son
You just havent earned it yet, baby
You must suffer and cry for a longer time
You just havent earned it yet, baby
And Im telling you now ...
Ill tell you why
Ill tell you why
Today I am remembering the time
When they pulled me back
And held me down
And looked me in the eyes and said
You just havent earned it yet, baby
You just havent earned it, my son
You just havent earned it yet, baby
You must stay on your own for slightly longer
You just havent earned it yet baby
And Im telling you now ...
You just havent earned it yet, baby
Oh ...
You just havent earned it yet, baby
Oh ...
Oh

song performed by Smiths
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sinful identity

It wasn’t the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so handsomely procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
infantile cry; overflowed with unfathomable oceans of
glittering gold,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
baselessly rejoiced and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; miserably dithered in my
impoverished life to carve a philanthropically
blissful identity of my very own….

It wasn’t the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so majestically procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my
first baby cry; had an endless inundation of sparkling
currency coin,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
parasitically feasted and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; pathetically staggered in my
diminutive life to carve a synergistically blazing
identity of my very own….

It wasn’t the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so wonderfully procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
incoherent cry; remained perpetually embellished with
resplendently enamoring diamonds,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
derogatorily marauded and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; dismally stuttered in my truncated
life to carve a celestially vibrant identity of my
very own…
It wasn’t the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so marvelously procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
nimble cry; contained every speck of prosperity on
this timeless planet,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
indiscriminately terrorized and took all their
hard-earned wealth for granted; meaninglessly quavered
in my destined life to carve a beautifully magnanimous
identity of my very own…..

It wasn’t the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so amazingly procreated me; nor was it
my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
inaudible cry; had its foundations resting on an
insurmountable mountain of pearls,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
savagely massacred and took all their hard-earned

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Think noble, Talk noble and Get Nobel

Noble are those
Who have self evolved
Humane values
And who stand by what they value
Not necessarily nobility
Of a person is assessed
On what they own or acquired
On whether they have power and authority

Any way present day requirement is that
A person needs to be rich and powerful
For he or she to be declared noble

Nobility enhances with popularity
The more popularity the greater nobility
The cumulative effect of
Power and popularity is
Immensely reflected on
The hurry in which one gets into
Noble cadre

Thus a person with
Self evolved humane values
Popularity, fame and power
Assumes greater nobility
In the society

But note the fame one acquires
Through notoriety
Does not and will add to his
Nobility scale

The person may even create
Controversies without, of course,
Affecting the social harmony
And remain noble

What about acting on your noble ideas
It looks from one of the recent
Nobel awardees
That you need not act
On your ideas
Just keep talking about them
In all possible gatherings
But ensure that the crowd accepts
Whatever great things you have to say

To become a Nobel Laureate
You require to do only these
Think noble

[...] Read more

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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If Beauty Was Earned

If beauty was earned by caring,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by strength of spirit,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by generosity,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by quiet introspection,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by joy,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by unselfish love,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by the light behind your eyes,
you could not be more beautiful to me.

poem by Robert Hiers
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The Wife Of Bath Her Tale

In days of old, when Arthur filled the throne,
Whose acts and fame to foreign lands were blown,
The king of elves, and little fairy queen,
Gambolled on heaths, and danced on every green;
And where the jolly troop had led the round,
The grass unbidden rose, and marked the ground.
Nor darkling did they dance, the silver light
Of Phœbe served to guide their steps aright,
And, with their tripping pleased, prolong the night.
Her beams they followed, where at full she played,
Nor longer than she shed her horns they staid,
From thence with airy flight to foreign lands conveyed.
Above the rest our Britain held they dear,
More solemnly they kept their sabbaths here,
And made more spacious rings, and revelled half the year.
I speak of ancient times; for now the swain
Returning late may pass the woods in vain,
And never hope to see the nightly train;
In vain the dairy now with mints is dressed,
The dairy-maid expects no fairy guest
To skim the bowls, and after pay the feast.
She sighs, and shakes her empty shoes in vain,
No silver penny to reward her pain;1
For priests with prayers, and other godly gear,
Have made the merry goblins disappear;
And where they played their merry pranks before,
Have sprinkled holy water on the floor;
And friars that through the wealthy regions run,
Thick as the motes that twinkle in the sun,
Resort to farmers rich, and bless their halls,
And exorcise the beds, and cross the walls:
This makes the fairy quires forsake the place,
When once ‘tis hallowed with the rites of grace:
But in the walks, where wicked elves have been,
The learning of the parish now is seen;
The midnight parson, posting o’er the green,
With gown tucked up, to wakes; for Sunday next,
With humming ale encouraging his text;
Nor wants the holy leer to country-girl betwixt.
From fiends and imps he sets the village free,
There haunts not any incubus but he.
The maids and women need no danger fear
To walk by night, and sanctity so near;
For by some haycock, or some shady thorn,
He bids his beads both even-song and morn.
It so befel in this king Arthur’s reign,
A lusty knight was pricking o’er the plain;
A bachelor he was, and of the courtly train.
It happened as he rode, a damsel gay
In russet robes to market took her way;

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Fu Manchu

You heard about
A criminal man of virtue
Is there any doubt
His minimal strands would suit you?
Is a hard earned way
Is a hard earned way
Ill never lose
My fu manchu
My fu manchu
Let them grow out
In time youll feel so better
The vanishing pout
Now youre a real go-getter
Is a hard earned way
Is a hard earned way
Ill never lose
My fu manchu
My fu manchu
Is a hard earned way
Is a hard earned way
Occidentally tic-tac
Occidentally tic-tac

song performed by Frank Black
Added by Lucian Velea
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By Default By Design

By default by design
Time after time
Maybe you earned it,
Maybe you spurned it
But you got it...
You got it
Call it attraction or charm
Sound the alarm
Maybe you earned it,
Maybe you spurned it
But you got it...
Yes, you got it
Breaking hearts your speciality?
Why did you ever have to come so close to me
Was it love or morbid curiosity?
Either way Id say that loves a possibility
Come a little closer,
Let me see you in close detail
The object of my affections
Walked off in the other direction
By default by design
Time after time
Maybe you earned it,
Maybe you spurned it
But you got it...
You got it
Call it attraction or charm
Sound the alarm
Maybe you earned it,
Maybe you spurned it
But you got it...
Yes, you got it
Modern day romeos,
Modern day juliets
Selling their love for a packet of cigarettes
Still I remember the day that we first met...
And yet so far, so good
So what else can we ever expect?
Come a little closer, let me see you in close detail
The object of my affections walked off in the other direction
By default by design
Time after time
Maybe you earned it,
Maybe you spurned it
But you got it...
You got it
Call it attraction or charm
Sound the alarm
Maybe you earned it,
Maybe you spurned it

[...] Read more

song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dog Soldier Lodge Affirmed

We believed in love, freedom, nobility;
to spiritual depths of our souls.
We believed in spiritual sacredness;
of our vibrant untamed land.
We rode our mustangs like wind tossed rolling thunder;
drumming within across prairie storm front;
as we rode wild free ranging prairie wind;
sweeping across an untamed unshod land.

We were so proud to live; as robust hunter-warriors;
to walk stand tall; sharing tribal life spirit.
So proud to live! So proud to die!

We fought frightened forked tongued white devil;
with every honourable fibre of our sacred being;
as they swept like vermin; despoiling stealing violating;
great beauty of a spiritual primeval land.
As Dog Soldier Warriors; of entrusted sacred lodge;
we died as we lived; with respect spiritual nobility.
I remember drums beating beating beating....
as my tribe cast my sacred spirit free.

I remember ritual tribal drums beating;
as my people cast my shaman spirit free;
vanquishing suppressed pain of weeping wounds;
which had battle pierced bled profusely;
sustained in mesmeric dance of necessitated battle;
when trampled buffalo hide tepee; of venerated Great Spirit;
within my warrior hardened body; invincible in combat;
finally fell undefeated; before an ignoble enemy.

Defend ancestral hunting grounds; wearer of eagle feathered;
war bonnet; strike with medicine power; of eagle descending....
on prey; protect shaman warrior; brave deeds in battle worthy;
first to touch living fallen enemy in battle; in front of fighting.... notched decorated feathers tell your deeds; designate swift killing;
telling your fierce individual stories; scalping capturing....
enemy’s weapons shield proudly worn; how thunder on horseback
or foot; attacking fear you struck into veteran civil war enemies....

What remained of a once proud people; hostilities long bled;
cast my shaman spirit free; cleansing ceremony completing;
to roam restoring; releasing vitality; warrior leading retaliatory strikes;
be free in spiritual hunting ground; of earned nomadic nobility.
Until foretold time; descendant tribe; would seek; must seek;
wisdom of spirit world; to guide survivors in spiritual perpetuity.
Then search in sacred ritual circle ceremony; tribal knowledge proving;
for tribal lore; for primeval knowledge; for new found spirituality.

Guarded for time swept tribe; for time of great need;
by a shaman; by a newborn past ancestor; of awe inspiring ability.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I'm Gonna Be Somebody

Bobby played his guitar on the harder side of town
Where it's hard for the poor boy to find the money
He had dedication, he had the heart and soul
Somehow knew he was born to play
People said "Get a real job, support your family
'Cause there's no future in the road you're taking"
He never said a word, the dreamer just kept on
But late at night you could hear him say
He said
"I'm gonna be somebody
One of these days I'm gonna break these chains
I'm gonna be somebody someday
You could bet your hard earned dollar I will
The road was a struggle, took him ten years to the top
Now he's #1 on the stage and the radio
Still he can't believe how they come from miles around
When it only seems like yesterday he was sayin'
"I'm gonna be somebody
One of these days I'm fonna break these chains
I'm gonna be somebody someday
You could bet your hard earned dollar I will"
Bobby played his hometown one full moon August night
When he heard a voice in the front row singin'
It was a sandy- haired Rebel boy with the same old hungry eyes
Looked up at Bobby and said
"I'm gonna be somebody
One of these days I'm gonna break these chains
I'm gonna be somebody someday
You could bet your hard earned dollar I will"
Mmmmmm
"I'm gonna be somebody
One of these days I'm gonna break these chains
I'm gonna be somebody
You could bet your hard earned dollar I will"
Oh, yes I will
You could bet your hard earned dollar
I will

song performed by Travis Tritt
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Age

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.

Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.

Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
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Bénédiction (Benediction)

Lorsque, par un décret des puissances suprêmes,
Le Poète apparaît en ce monde ennuyé,
Sa mère épouvantée et pleine de blasphèmes
Crispe ses poings vers Dieu, qui la prend en pitié:

— «Ah! que n'ai-je mis bas tout un noeud de vipères,
Plutôt que de nourrir cette dérision!
Maudite soit la nuit aux plaisirs éphémères
Où mon ventre a conçu mon expiation!

Puisque tu m'as choisie entre toutes les femmes
Pour être le dégoût de mon triste mari,
Et que je ne puis pas rejeter dans les flammes,
Comme un billet d'amour, ce monstre rabougri,

Je ferai rejaillir ta haine qui m'accable
Sur l'instrument maudit de tes méchancetés,
Et je tordrai si bien cet arbre misérable,
Qu'il ne pourra pousser ses boutons empestés!»

Elle ravale ainsi l'écume de sa haine,
Et, ne comprenant pas les desseins éternels,
Elle-même prépare au fond de la Géhenne
Les bûchers consacrés aux crimes maternels.

Pourtant, sous la tutelle invisible d'un Ange,
L'Enfant déshérité s'enivre de soleil
Et dans tout ce qu'il boit et dans tout ce qu'il mange
Retrouve l'ambroisie et le nectar vermeil.

II joue avec le vent, cause avec le nuage,
Et s'enivre en chantant du chemin de la croix;
Et l'Esprit qui le suit dans son pèlerinage
Pleure de le voir gai comme un oiseau des bois.

Tous ceux qu'il veut aimer l'observent avec crainte,
Ou bien, s'enhardissant de sa tranquillité,
Cherchent à qui saura lui tirer une plainte,
Et font sur lui l'essai de leur férocité.

Dans le pain et le vin destinés à sa bouche
Ils mêlent de la cendre avec d'impurs crachats;
Avec hypocrisie ils jettent ce qu'il touche,
Et s'accusent d'avoir mis leurs pieds dans ses pas.

Sa femme va criant sur les places publiques:
«Puisqu'il me trouve assez belle pour m'adorer,
Je ferai le métier des idoles antiques,
Et comme elles je veux me faire redorer;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Baudelaire
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In The Making Of The Whole

In the making of the whole.
In the making of the whole.
My peace within,
Has been earned...
From taking pieces of it,
From outside.

And in the making of the whole.
My peace within,
Has been earned...
From taking pieces of it,
From outside.

In the making of the whole.
In the making of the whole.
My peace within,
Has been earned...
From taking pieces of it,
From outside.
In the making of the whole.
My peace within,
Has been earned...
From taking pieces of it,
From outside.
In the making of the whole.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reason To Believe

Seen a man standin over a dead dog lyin by the highway in a ditch
Hes lookin down kinda puzzled pokin that dog with a stick
Got his car door flung open hes standin out on highway 31
Like if he stood there long enough that dogd get up and run
Struck me kinda funny seem kinda funny sir to me
At the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Now mary lou loved johnny with a love mean and true
She said baby Ill work for you every day and bring my money home to you
One day he up and left her and ever since that
She waits down at the end of that dirt road for young johnny to come back
Struck me kinda funny seemed kind of funny sir to me
How at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Take a baby to the river kyle william they called him
Wash the baby in the water take away little kyles sin
In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away
Take his body to the graveyard and over him they pray
Lord wont you tell us tell us what does it mean
Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Congregation gathers down by the riverside
Preacher stands with his Bible groom stands waitin for his bride
Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weepin willow tree
Groom stands alone and watches the river rush on so effortlessly
Lord and hes wonderin where can his baby be
Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Mendicants

Charity, Charity - parson and priest
Ever in church and in chapel have taught
'Give ye in charity e'en to the least,
So may the favor of Heaven be bought.
Strive ye in Virtue, for Him that we call
Master has named it the greatest of all.
Strive ye in holiness;
Owner of acres and breeder of sheep.
Cleaning his wealth with a masterful hand,
Scheming for profit with schemes that are deep.
Yet is the squatter a generous soul
A generous donor, and this be more:
He never begrudges - nor misses - the dole
Of gratuitous guineas he flings from his store.

Charity, Charity - purchase your fame!
All the world honours a giver of alms.
Noble philanthropist! Publish his name!
Scatter his gift to the suppliant palms.
Nay! Would you ask how his guineas are won?
Mark his beneficence? See what he's done!
Thank him, ye lowly ones;
Bless him you holy ones.
Charity, Charity - worthily done!

Humble BILL HODMAN is agèd and poor;
Owning no riches and owning no lands,
Living the life of a labouring boor,
Earning his bread by the toil of his hands.
Yet is the toiler an obstinate soul
An obstinate pauper, and this be more:
He'd answer with curses if offered a dole
In charity out of a rich man's store.

Charity, Charity - ignorant clowns!
What should ye know of personal pride?
Shame on your surliness! Shame on your frowns!
Spurring the gifts that the wealthy provide!
Are they not generous? Are they not kind?
Pride is their privilege, why should ye mind?
Study servility;
Practise humility.
Charity, Charity - fools, ye are blind!

Proud Squatter REX has a charming wife
Queen of society, lady of birth;
Nurtured in luxury, smiling thro' life,

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Give Me That Love

When you give me your love...
Give me 'that' love,
You love.
Give me that love you say,
You've been dreaming of.
And I will give you what you're yearning.

When you give me your love...
Give me 'that' love,
You love.
Give me that love you say,
You've been dreaming of.
And I will give you what you're yearning.

Give me all your love...
And I'll return what you've been yearning.
Give me 'that' love...
And you'll have earned what I'm returning.
Give me all your love...
And I'll return what you've been yearning.
Give me 'that' love...
And you'll have earned what I'm returning.

When you give me your love...
Give me 'that' love,
You love.
Give me that love you say,
You've been dreaming of.
And I will give you what you're yearning.

Do not trick me with a double dip slicked.
If you want me just admit it and be quick.
Do not doubt my heart is yours to benefit.
I'm ready and prepared to be with you and be committed.

Do not trick me with a double dip slicked.
If you want me just admit it and be quick.
Do not doubt my heart is yours to benefit.
I'm ready and prepared to be with you and be committed.

Give me all your love...
And I'll return what you've been yearning.
Give me 'that' love...
And you'll have earned what I'm returning.
Give me all your love...
And I'll return what you've been yearning.
Give me 'that' love...
And you'll have earned what I'm returning.

Do not trick me with a double dip slicked.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Just Want A Happy Life To Live

Giving up on dreams I've made,
To wine and shop all day.
And come home to have cake,
Served by a butler or an upstairs maid!

Giving up on dreams I've made,
For escapades to escape.
And never worry 'bout,
Dimes I saved...
From stocks and bonds,
Stashed away!

I just want a happy life to live.
And not be driven to fits.
I just want a healthy life that is...
Free of doctor bills.
I just want a happiness to give,
With a peace I've earned to keep!
And a joy I feel so deep!

Giving up on dreams I've made,
For those escapades.
And never worry 'bout those dimes I save...
From stocks and bonds,
Stashed away!

Giving up on dreams I've made,
To wine and shop all day.

I just want a happy life to live.
And not be driven to fits.
I just want a healthy life that is...
Free of doctor bills.
I just want a happiness to give,
With a peace I've earned to keep!
And a joy I feel so deep!

Giving up on dreams I've made,
To wine and shop all day.

I just want a happy life to live.
And not be driven to fits.
I just want a healthy life that is...
Free of doctor bills.
I just want a happiness to give,
With a peace I've earned to keep!

I just want a happy life to live.
And not be driven to fits.
I just want a healthy life that is...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Live to Love the Life You've Earned

Undaunted.
Dismiss those dispirited,
Who view life in limits.

Why bother with this?
Get on with it!
Live to love your life,
And learn.

Flaunt it!
The peace within that's felt.
Belonging to you.
Keep 'something' for yourself.

Live to love your life,
And learn.

Wanted?
No one that comes to annoy!
No one that steals your joy.
No one who initiates,
Agitating your happiness away.

Live to love your life,
And learn.
Live to love your life,
And learn.

Flaunt it!
The peace within that's felt.
Belonging to you.
Keep 'something' for yourself.

And...
Live to love your life.
Live to love your life.
Live to love 'the' life...
You've earned.

Undaunted.
Dismiss those dispirited,
Who view life in limits.
And live to love your life.
Live to love your life.
Live to love the life...
You've earned.
And, yes...
Live to love your life.
Live to love your life.
Live to love 'the' life...

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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They get, you know, whatever they want from their earnings, and their earnings go into their own company.

quote by Brian Epstein
Added by Lucian Velea
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