People are going to say what they say. I know sometimes I say things; I offend people.
quote by Mike Tyson
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Broken England
My Brave ancestor of England,
Look away, for I offend thee
For your England is no more
Decay eats away at this fallen empire.
Your people divided
Its laws weakened by Europe’s power
Its leadership, protecting the few
The fresh air of your Country gone
Only the stench of anarchy remains
Heroes of The Somme look away for I offend thee
Stock Market Parasites, take without producing
Corporations overwhelm, the weak,
Without paying their due,
Their off shore havens digest the life blood of this once great nation,
Leaving the scraps of minimum wage for the masses to beg
The dead of Pashendale look away for I offend thee
Government legislate to keep us in bondage till 66
Over the hill at 50, to wander the dole queue
Youth denied education,
Universities at a price
Qualifications for the chosen few
Unemployment, for the poor,
Our brothers of Gallipoli look away for I offend thee
Our Cities are in pain
Hopeless lives, with hopeless dreams
Hopeless choices, drugs, crime,
Or silence behind closed doors.
Babies born to fail
Children, exposed to depression and chips
The ghosts of Arnhem look away for I offend thee
A voice in the darkness, shouts its rage
The iron curtain of youth descends on England
This is no Lennon revolution,
This is youth with no future, abandoned by government
No rules here to obey, No Civic pride,
No sense of History, no Country to protect
The Saviors of Goose green look away for I offend thee
But fat cats beware, for there is a dream
That cannot be bought,
A warning from history
A country cannot go forward
Without learning from the past,
Your greed will self-destruct
Your Paradise a lie
[...] Read more
poem by Steven Cooke
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Diminishing Defenses
Let's remove the platitudes.
And rid the phony subtleties,
To dropp to be who we are...
To let that be seen,
Moving forward to do more progressive things.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes,
I defend. You defend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
And let's do it to prove,
It done,
To do.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes,
I defend. You defend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let us remove those platitudes
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Let us remove those platitudes
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Know Their Name
I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. Their father used to drive a light blue chevrolet
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. They had a dog that used to answer to Barney
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
(La guitar)
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I say:
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name
song performed by Men Without Hats
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6 Minutes Of Pleasure
Six minutes, six minutes
Six minutes, six minutes
(Sample)
I know why you're here
I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know why you're here
I know what you're doing
I can see it in your eyes you're up to somethin
I know what it is, but we're still cool
And we can socialize, I'm peepin ya baby
I'm holdin back I'm not lettin go
Cause a fool doesn't have a shoulder to cry on
So, give me a kiss and you service
Whether you like a mister or a miss
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Baby you're my dear I know why you're here
I know why you came I know what you're thinkin
I know what you need and that's what I've got
You think I'm goin crazy no I'm not drinking
I know what you want, I made ya want it
Take my hand listen to the man
You have a plan don't even risk it
What do you want a biscuit?
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
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Everybody Loves Me, Baby
Everybody Loves Me Baby
Don McLean
From his "American Pie" LP
This song was not released as a single
: One, two, three, four!
Fortune has me well in hand, armies 'wait my command
My gold lies in a foreign land buried deep beneath the sand
The angels guide my ev'ry prayer, my enemies are sick or dead
But all the victories I've led haven't brought you to my bed
CHORUS:
You see, everybody loves me, baby, what's the matter with you?
Won'tcha tell me what did I do to offend you?
Now the purest race I've bred to be to live in my democracy
And the highest human pedigree awaits the first-born boy baby
And my face on ev'ry coin engraved, the anarchists are all enslaved
My own flag is forever waved by the grateful people I have saved
CHORUS:
You see, everybody loves me, baby, what's the matter with you?
Won'tcha tell me what did I do to offend you?
Now, no man is beyond my claim when land is seized in the people's name
By evil men who rob and maim, if war is hell, I'm not to blame!
Why, you can't blame me, I'm Heaven's child, I'm the second son of Mary mild
And I'm twice removed from Oscar Wilde, but he didn't mind, why, he just smiled
Yes, and the ocean parts when I walk through, and the clouds dissolve and the sky turns blue
I'm held in very great value by everyone I meet but you
'cause I've used my talents as I could, I've done some bad, I've done some good
I did a whole lot better than they thought I would so, c'mon and treat me like you should!
Because everybody loves me, baby, what's the matter with you?
Won'tcha tell me what did I do to offend you?
Everybody loves me, baby, what's the matter with you?
Won'tcha tell me what did I do to offend you?
Yeah, everybody loves me, baby, what's the matter with you?
Won'tcha tell me what did I do to offend you?
song performed by Don McLean
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The Court Of Love
With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.
The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right
No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.
Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,
That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.
But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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An Essay on Criticism
Part I
INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.
'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.
Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,
[...] Read more
poem by Alexander Pope
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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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You Know My Name
You know my name
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
Good evening and welcome to slaggers
Featuring denis o'bell
Come on ringo, let's hear it for denis
Good evening
You know my name
Better look up the number
You know my name
(that's right) look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
You know my name
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Look up my number
You know my name
That's right look up the number
Oh you know you know
You know my name you know you know you know my name.
Huh huh huh huh
You know my name
Ba ba ba pum
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You-a you know you know my name
Baby you-a you know you know my name
You know my name you know you know you know my name
Go on denis, let's hear it for denis o'bell
You know my name you know you know you know you know you know my name
Prrr you know my name and the number
You know my name and the number you know you know my name
Look up me number
You know my number three you know my number two
You know my number three you know my number four
You know my name you know number too
You know my name you know my number
What's up with you?
You know my name
That's right
Yeah.
song performed by Beatles
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If I Offend, So Be It
If I offend...
So be it!
I am not here,
To be the 'next' James Baldwin.
Or follow in the footsteps,
Of Langston Hughes.
The shoes I wear are quite comfortable.
And the path I walk upon,
Has not already been paved.
That is the task that has be laid before me.
To do that myself!
If I offend...
So be it!
I am not living my life intending to be anyone else,
Than who I am.
I am the first Lawrence S. Pertillar.
And make no mistake about it...
I will be acknowledged,
For the life I've lived.
If I offend...
So be it!
I just know who it is I am.
And I am not who I am because I seek to get paid for it!
Like most folks lost and deluded,
By the meaning of 'identity'.
I've been blessed and I am grateful...
To have a dignity as well.
And 'if' I offend...
So be it!
There's so many others,
Who have minds associated with making a quick buck.
And people like that...
Are indoctrinated with corrupted agendas!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Eternal Kansas City
Chorus (choir singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city)?
(van singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Train down to st. louis
Get me there alright
Over to the city there, you know that one
Where the farmers daughter digs the farmers son
Dig your charlie parker
Basie and young
Witherspoon and jay mcshann
They will come
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Lady liberty in waiting
You know she lights the way
Her name is billie, shes a holiday
And the city is eternal -- hey, cant you see?
Its inside of you and its inside of me
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city ?
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Wild thing
You know the way to kansas city (choir only)
Thank you man (van)
You know the way to kansas city
Sing it (van)
You know the way to kansas city (van and choir)
Hit it (van)
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
[...] Read more
song performed by Van Morrison
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Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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Let Me Help You Mend
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Unlock your hold on troubles,
You keep deep...
To repeat.
Release them from yourself,
And you'll be free...
To visit me.
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Come in...
To my world.
And end,
All defenses begun...
Within you that go on,
To offend.
Let me,
Help you mend...
And now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Clean
Today, everything was fine fine fine
Until roundabout quarter to 9, suddenly I found myself in a bind, a bind
Was it something I said
Something I read
And manifest thats getting you down
Dont you dare come to bed with that ambiguous look in your eye
Id sooner sleep by an open fire and wake up fried
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirty words come out clean, clean
Tomorrow, what price will I pay
Could I make it all up to you by serving coffee for two in bed, would you then give me
The time of day
I need a map of your head, translated into english so I can learn to not make you frown
Feel better if you vent, put your frustrations into four letter words and let them out on
Mine
The most weathered ears in town!
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirty words come out clean
Clean (x6)
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirt words come out clean
Say what u will
Say what u mean
No, you could never offend
Your dirty words come out clean, clean
song performed by Incubus
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You And I Know
They ask why do we live love die do we
Take a chance maybe ask a dance do we
Risk the pain never quite regain never
Oh we bleed the dark never miss the mark never
Well you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
They don't know of the place we go lover
All the blues are green nothing in between lover
And when the darkness falls through the fine glass walls lover
Oh it makes the sound of the outward bound lover
But you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
Oh
Well they're looking right through me
And back into themselves
And I'm thinking that they knew me
When they laugh at someone else
Well you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
Oh I know you and I know you and I know
Oh I know you and I know you and I know
I know
Yes
song performed by Melissa Etheridge
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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
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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You Know Where You Went Wrong
(tennant/lowe)
---------------
Two men on the street
Drinking something cheap
No home, no family
Its cold, nowhere to sleep
Passers-by never catch their eye
Anywhere, one man drinks, the other swears
You know where you went wrong
You know where you went wrong
(aaaah) you know
You know where you went wrong
You know where you went wrong
(aaaah) you know
The old man cant understand
No one will shake his hand
I gave security, bombs and colour tv
It cost a few lives
Someones son always dies
No one shakes his hand
He dont understand
You know where you went wrong
You know where you went wrong
(aaaah) you know
You know where you went wrong
You know where you went wrong
(aaaah) you know
This is the history of the world
Of every boy and every girl
Who dont understand whats going on anymore
The history of the world
Of every boy and every girl
Who dont understand whats going on anymore
(whats going on? )
Two girls have a photograph
One looks, the other laughs
He could have been mine
Why did I change my mind?
Then hands on hips
The other girl says: admit! admit!
You know where you went wrong
You know where you went wrong
(aaaah) you know
You know where you went wrong
You know where you went wrong
(aaaah) you know
This is the history of the world (of the world)
Of every boy and every girl
Who dont (who dont) understand (understand)
Whats going on anymore (whats going on? )
[...] Read more
song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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
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I Know People
I know people who help you through the night.
And I know people who
fight that very good fight.
And, I know people who're goin for the gold.
And, I know people got them aces so you better fold.
I know people who are quick to light your cigarette.
And, I know people who say 'Buddy, ya ain't seen nothin yet.'
I know people who're workin harder every day.
And I know people who got kids come out to play.
I know people, you know people, said, I'm not so different from you.
Won't you be one of my people who
Who do too.. Won't you be one of my people who.
I know people who
are cruisin up and down the track, and
I know people who
won't be comin back.
I know people ridin too high at the wheel.
And, I know people, there to cut you that dirty deal.
I know people who'll take you into town. And, I know people who
really get around.
And I know people who're buskin up and down the mall.
And, I know people who're gonna take a fall.
I know people, you know people, see, I'm not so different from you?
Won't you be one of my people too. Said, won't you be one of my people who, who do too.
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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The Victories Of Love. Book II
I
From Jane To Her Mother
Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
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