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I never achieved my first goal in the National Actors Theatre, which is to have a permanent Acting Company.

quote by Tony Randall
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
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The Shepherd's Dog

I.

A Shepherd's Dog there was; and he
Was faithful to his master's will,
For well he lov'd his company,
Along the plain or up the hill;
All Seasons were, to him, the same
Beneath the Sun's meridian flame;
Or, when the wintry wind blew shrill and keen,
Still the Old Shepherd's Dog, was with his Master seen.

II.

His form was shaggy clothed; yet he
Was of a bold and faithful breed;
And kept his master company
In smiling days, and days of need;
When the long Ev'ning slowly clos'd,
When ev'ry living thing repos'd,
When e'en the breeze slept on the woodlands round,
The Shepherd's watchful Dog, was ever waking found.

III.

All night, upon the cold turf he
Contented lay, with list'ning care;
And though no stranger company,
Or lonely traveller rested there;
Old Trim was pleas'd to guard it still,
For 'twas his aged master's will;--
And so pass'd on the chearful night and day,
'Till the poor Shepherd's Dog, was very old, and grey.

IV.

Among the villagers was he
Belov'd by all the young and old,
For he was chearful company,
When the north-wind blew keen and cold;
And when the cottage scarce was warm,
While round it flew, the midnight storm,
When loudly, fiercely roll'd the swelling tide--
The Shepherd's faithful Dog, crept closely by his side.

V.

When Spring in gaudy dress would be,

[...] Read more

poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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Lines in Defence of the Stage

Good people of high and low degree,
I pray ye all be advised by me,
And don't believe what the clergy doth say,
That by going to the theatre you will be led astray.

No, in the theatre we see vice punished and virtue rewarded,
The villain either hanged or shot, and his career retarded;
Therefore the theatre is useful in every way,
And has no inducement to lead the people astray.

Because therein we see the end of the bad men,
Which must appall the audience - deny it who can
Which will help to retard them from going astray,
While witnessing in a theatre a moral play.

The theatre ought to be encouraged in every respect,
Because example is better than precept,
And is bound to have a greater effect
On the minds of theatre-goers in every respect.

Sometimes in theatres, guilty creatures there have been
Struck to the soul by the cunning of the scene;
By witnessing a play wherein murder is enacted,
They were proven to be murderers, they felt so distracted,

And left the theatre, they felt so much fear,
Such has been the case, so says Shakespeare.
And such is my opinion, I will venture to say,
That murderers will quake with fear on seeing murder in a play.

Hamlet discovered his father's murderer by a play
That he composed for the purpose, without dismay,
And the king, his uncle, couldn't endure to see that play,
And he withdrew from the scene without delay.

And by that play the murder was found out,
And clearly proven, without any doubt;
Therefore, stage representation has a greater effect
On the minds of the people than religious precept.

We see in Shakespeare's tragedy of Othello, which is sublime,
Cassio losing his lieutenancy through drinking wine;
And, in delirium and grief, he exclaims -
"Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!"

A young man in London went to the theatre one night
To see the play of George Barnwell, and he got a great fright;
He saw George Barnwell murder his uncle in the play,
And he had resolved to murder his uncle, but was stricken with dismay.

[...] Read more

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Permanent Reminder Of A Temporary Feeling

By: jimmy buffett
She was no marine back from the philippines
She was their pride and joy, their incarnation
Her parents viewed the chief with shock and disbelief
Looking for some other explanation
The indian on her back was poised for an attack
She said a tatoo is a badge of validation
But the truth of the matter is far more revealing
Its a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Permanent reminder
Of a temporary feeling
Amnesiac episodes that never go away
Its no complex momemto its not set of revealing
Just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Vegas in the rain
Drunk on cheap champagne
He hears out of tune synthesized chapel bells painfully ringing
Wheres his limo ride
Whos this foreign bride
Is that really elvis spinning around the ceiling
Permanent reminder
Of a temporary feeling
Forgotten fabrications in the chapels of love
Whats this ring on his finger
Why is he kneeling
Shes just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Chromosomes and genes
Spawn these fateful scenes
Evolution can be mean
Theres no dumbass vaccine
Blame your dna
Youre a victim of your fate
Its human nature to miscalculate
To make up for the fight
They go out for the night
Sex drugs and rock n roll seem like the easiest answer
But a short nine months later
Theres no way of concealing
That permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Permanent reminder
Of a temporary feeling
Amnesiac episodes that never go away
Complex momentos not subtle revealings
Just a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Permanent reminder of a temporary feeling
Permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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People Evil Leave A Permanent Stain

People evil leave a permanent stain...
Felt like nothing other.
People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever this is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains,
With a paining that continues...
Sustaining and to drain.

People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever it is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
And we do this with a wish,
It is the best that we can do.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

People evil leave a permanent stain...
Felt like nothing other.
People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever this is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains,
With a paining that continues...
Sustaining and to drain.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Residency There Is Permanent

You have a bird's eye view...
With a crowing done you do.
To boast about nonstop.
From your position...
At the top.

And you believe to keep it,
Is an ease to block.
As you remain where you are...
Secured in a safety zone,
Kept locked with eyes on stars.

But like some others,
You can hit rock bottom.
And whether you like it or not...
It is recommended,
To stop and avoid your peacocking.

No residency there is permanent.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.

No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Don't try it, do not bother.
Odds you choose will lose.
Don't be that big a fool.

You have a bird's eye view...
Don't be that big a fool.
No residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.
Someone's always there to circumvent.

Your residency meant...
Is not one permanent.

And you believe to keep it,
Is an ease to block.
As you remain where you are...
Secured in a safety zone,
Kept locked.

But no...
Residency there is permanent.
Don't try it, do not bother.
It's not fixed or grounded in cement.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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National Front Disco (live)

David, the wind blows,
The wind blows
Bits of your life away.
Your friends all say,
"Where is our boy?
Ah, we've lost our boy".
But they should know,
Where you've gone,
Because again and again you've explained
That you're going to . . .
Oh, oh, oh, going to . . .
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
"England for the English",
"England for the English".
David, the wind's blown,
The wind's blown
All of my dreams away.
And I still say,
"Where is our boy?
Ah, we've lost our boy".
But I should know
Why you've gone,
Because again and again you've explained
You're going to the National . . .
Ah, to the National . . .
There's a country,
You don't live there,
But one day you would like to.
And if you show them what you're made of,
Ah, then you might do.
But David, we wonder,
We wonder if the thunder
Is ever really gonna begin,
Begin, begin
Your mum says,
"I've lost my boy".
But she should know
Why you've gone,
Because again and again you've explained
You're going to the National,
To the National,
To the National Front disco,
Because you want the day to come sooner,
You want the day to come sooner,
You want the day to come sooner,
When you've settled the score.
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National,
Oh, the National,

[...] Read more

song performed by Morrissey
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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The Flower And The Leaf

When that Phebus his chaire of gold so hy
Had whirled up the sterry sky aloft,
And in the Bole was entred certainly;
Whan shoures swete of rain discended soft,
Causing the ground, felë tymes and oft,
Up for to give many an hoolsom air,
And every plain was [eek y-]clothed fair

With newe grene, and maketh smalë floures
To springen here and there in feld and mede;
So very good and hoolsom be the shoures
That it reneweth, that was old and deede
In winter-tyme; and out of every seede
Springeth the herbë, so that every wight
Of this sesoun wexeth [ful] glad and light.

And I, só glad of the seson swete,
Was happed thus upon a certain night;
As I lay in my bed, sleep ful unmete
Was unto me; but, why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist; for there nas erthly wight,
As I suppose, had more hertës ese
Than I, for I n'ad siknesse nor disese.

Wherfore I mervail gretly of my-selve,
That I so long, withouten sleepë lay;
And up I roos, three houres after twelve,
About the [very] springing of the day,
And on I put my gere and myn array;
And to a plesaunt grovë I gan passe,
Long or the brightë sonne uprisen was,

In which were okës grete, streight as a lyne,
Under the which the gras, so fresh of hew,
Was newly spronge; and an eight foot or nyne
Every tree wel fro his felawe grew,
With braunches brode, laden with leves new,
That sprongen out ayein the sonnë shene,
Som very rede, and som a glad light grene;

Which, as me thought, was right a plesaunt sight.
And eek the briddes song[ës] for to here
Would have rejoised any erthly wight.
And I, that couth not yet, in no manere,
Here the nightingale of al the yere,
Ful busily herkned, with herte and ere,
If I her voice perceive coud any-where.

And at the last, a path of litel brede
I found, that gretly had not used be,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Information Overload

Many suffer from,
Information overload.
And nothing can be done,
By information overload.
Too many getting numb,
With information overload.
And not overcoming,
That information overload...
Can be,
Impossible to see achieved.

Simple conversation is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
Eye contact is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
An understanding is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
People sincere is...
Impossible to have it achieved!

Many suffer from,
Information overload.
And nothing can be done,
By information overload.

With many running away...
From wanting purpose.
And many running away...
From honesty!
And many running away...
From keeping focus.
And many running away...
From peace believed,
To wish it could be possible.

With many running away...
From wanting purpose.
And many running away...
From honesty!
And many running away...
From keeping focus.
And many,
Are running away...
From peace believed.
To wish it could be possible.

Eye contact is...
Impossible to have it achieved.
An understanding is...
Impossible to have it achieved.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Permanent Waves

Please call a doctor, Ive been so depressed
That I think that Im finally breakin
I cant quite explain, I cant feel any pain
But I know that this time Im not fakin
Oh, what can it be, oh, inside of me
I saw my doctor he said man you look sick
He said I think you better do something quick
He checked me over and he said I was fit
What you need is a change, have a shave, find a chic
Your body functions, but your hairs a disgrace
You shouldnt let it hang all over your face
Change your image cos you look out of place
Comb your hair, put on weight, try to look up to date
Why dont you put in some permanent waves
Youll look smooth youll look cool, youll be laughing
Youll get lots of dates, youll be made youll get laid
Youll get out and about, youll be laughing
Oh, youll be o.k. once you get those permanent waves,
I was really up but now Im down once again
I went out walking and it started to rain
My perm washed out it just got flushed down the drain
My neurosis returned, Im a wreck once again
But wait til I get back my permanent waves
Ill be cool, Ill be smooth, Ill be laughing
Ill be all the rage with my permanent waves
And Ill start a new craze, Ill be laughing
Oh, Ill be o.k. once I get my permanent waves
Start a new craze, permanent waves
Ill be all the rage, my permanent waves

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Maybe I'm crazy

I am not Emo
I’m not a Goth
I’m perfectly normal
But I know what it feels to be lost
Stuck in the crowd
Can’t hear a sound
Feels like I’m pushed back in the distance
Can’t come out
Do people see?
Do they believe?
Or am I just crazy from being lonely?

The words burst from my lips as I scream
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
Am I forgotten? Am I just crazy?
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
Somebody hear me
Somebody save me

I check my phone, nobody calls
I can’t help, but feeling so forgot
I put on a show, nobody knows
Where did all the people I used to love, go?
I see a face, forgot its name
But they don’t seem to recognize me, anyway
All of my friends are with somebody else
And now I’m sitting here all by myself
(All by myself)

The words burst from my lips as I scream
(From my lips, as I scream)
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
(But the people, don’t hear a thing)
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
(Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?)
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
(Acting like, don’t know about me)
Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?
(Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?)
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
(Am I just lost, maybe I’m lonely)
Somebody hear me
(Somebody near me)
Somebody save me
(Somebody save me)
Or am I just crazy?
Or am I just crazy?

[...] Read more

poem by Sugar Bear
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Theatre Of The Absurd

(ian hunter)
My tea turned seven shades darker
As I sit n write these words
And londons gettin paler
In my theatre of the absurd.
You figured for an evening
And you made it all worthwile.
Its seldom people have a job
And even rarer that I smile.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
And if your songs be classics,
Throw them to the hurd.
Truth is where they came from
And not this theatre of the absurd.
Some say you wanted to play for me
But its only what youve heard
That made you want to capture me
In your theatre of the absurd.
It was not me, I said myself
And you must do so, too.
I hope you have the strength to stay
When Ill be watchin you.
So baby,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
Oh when I got here back home tonight
Something within me stirred.
Oh it must have been a different kind of play
That touched my theatre of the absurd.
Now Ill be on my way alone
But an interesting thing occurred
See nobody ever shared too much
In my theatre of the absurd.
And there I was back in london,
Thought about history.
It was just like being in school again
But I felt something movin in me.

[...] Read more

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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Twin State

university of chicago summer basketball
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university of colorado sports camps
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university of connecticut girls volleyba
university of connecticut soccer camp
university of connecticut volleyball sum
university of ct summer volleyball camp
university of dallas cross country camps
university of dayton and goalkeeper camp
university of dayton baseball camp
university of dayton basketball camp
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university of dayton ohio atheletic camp
university of dayton socccer camp
university of dayton soccer camp
university of dayton summer soccer camp
university of dayton volleyball camp
university of delaware 4h camp
university of delaware 4h camp applicati
university of delaware baseball camp
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university of delaware field hockey camp
university of delaware football camps
university of delaware girls lacrosse ca
university of delaware lacrosse camp
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university of delaware volleyball camp
university of delaware youth camps
university of delware soccer camp
university of denver and lacrosse camp
university of denver swimming summer cam

[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Gross National Happiness

Gross national happiness now in Bhutan
is the goal, and not gross national product;
happiness great but not gross is my plan,
and the bottom line I’ve always buttocked.

Naturally there will be many naysayers
who claim that this line is fallacious,
but bottoms like summits of high Himalayas
aren’t gross when they’re firm and curvaceous.

Inspired by an article on Bhutan in the NYT on Bhutan by Seth Mydans in Thimphu (“Recalculating Happiness in a Himalayan Kingdom, ” May 8,2009) :
If the rest of the world cannot get it right in these unhappy times, this tiny Buddhist kingdom high in the Himalayan mountains says it is working on an answer. “Greed, insatiable human greed, ” said Prime Minister Jigme Thinley of Bhutan, describing what he sees as the cause of today’s economic catastrophe in the world beyond the snow-topped mountains. “What we need is change, ” he said in the whitewashed fortress where he works. “We need to think gross national happiness.” The notion of gross national happiness was the inspiration of the former king, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, in the 1970s as an alternative to the gross national product. Now, the Bhutanese are refining the country’s guiding philosophy into what they see as a new political science, and it has ripened into government policy just when the world may need it, said Kinley Dorji, secretary of information and communications. “You see what a complete dedication to economic development ends up in, ” he said, referring to the global economic crisis. “Industrialized societies have decided now that G.N.P. is a broken promise.” Under a new Constitution adopted last year, government programs — from agriculture to transportation to foreign trade — must be judged not by the economic benefits they may offer but by the happiness they produce. The goal is not happiness itself, the prime minister explained, a concept that each person must define for himself. Rather, the government aims to create the conditions for what he called, in an updated version of the American Declaration of Independence, “the pursuit of gross national happiness.”

5/8/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Finis Exoptatus

Boot and saddle, see, the slanting
Rays begin to fall,
Flinging lights and colours flaunting
Through the shadows tall.
Onward ! onward ! must we travel ?
When will come the goal ?
Riddle I may not unravel,
Cease to vex my soul.

Harshly break those peals of laughter
From the jays aloft,
Can we guess what they cry after ?
We have heard them oft ;
Perhaps some strain of rude thanksgiving
Mingles in their song,
Are they glad that they are living ?
Are they right or wrong ?
Right, 'tis joy that makes them call so,
Why should they be sad ?
Certes ! we are living also,
Shall not we be glad ?
Onward ! onward ! must we travel ?
Is the goal more near ?
Riddle we may not unravel,
Why so dark and drear ?

Yon small bird his hymn outpouring,
On the branch close by,
Recks not for the kestrel soaring
In the nether sky,
Though the hawk with wings extended
Poises over head,
Motionless as though suspended
By a viewless thread.
See, he stoops, nay, shooting forward
With the arrow's flight,
Swift and straight away to nor'ward
Sails he out of sight.
Onward ! onward ! thus we travel,
Comes the goal more nigh ?
Riddle we may not unravel,
Who shall make reply ?

Ha ! Friend Ephraim, saint or sinner,
Tell me if you can—
Tho' we may not judge the inner
By the outer man,
Yet by girth of broadcloth ample,
And by cheeks that shine,
Surely you set no example

[...] Read more

poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
Added by Poetry Lover
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True Action!

We are laborer,
Absolutely Pure laborer!
Then why, suffering, complaining,
On own stresses, about unnecessary sweats and toiling!

Work that must be inspired,
Where worker should never come to tire.
No exhaustion but the enjoyment while working,
And true nobler are enthusiastic about goal pursuing!

True Goal is not achieving the goal,
But striving to reach the goal is the real goal.
One should keep the goal to shoot at the highest emplacement,
So that one can enjoy his whole life without getting retirement.

Goal should be so high so that none can reach,
Why should ideal be kept so high so that it can’t be reached?
Striving to reach the highest is the moment where we grow,
Reaching the goal is the end of the goal, hence it will simply blow.

poem by Warner Keisham
Added by Poetry Lover
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I Find It Hard To Believe

I find it hard to believe
I find it hard to believe
That Im embarassed at me
For being upset
Over acting so contemptuously (I find it hard to believe)
Acting so contemptuously (I find it hard to believe)
Acting so contemptuously (that Im embarassed at me)
Acting so contemptuously (that Im embarassed at me)
(for being upset over acting so contemptuously)
Acting so contemptuously (acting so contemptuously)
Acting so contemptuously (on me)
I find it hard to believe

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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I've done a lot of costume drama and theatre - the National Theatre and In fact, most of my work at the theatre, at the National Theatre anyway, was period.

quote by Brenda Blethyn
Added by Lucian Velea
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