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in math's pristine world
even crying has its place
else laughter's wasted

haiku by Warren Falcon
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Math Suks

If necessity was the mother of invention
Then Id like to kill the guy who invented this
The numbers come together in some kind of third dimension
A regular algebraic bliss
Lets starts with something simple
Like 1 and 1 aint 3
Any 2 plus 2 will never get you 5
Theres fractions in my subtraction
And x dont equal y
But my homework is bound to multiply
Math suks (math suks), math suks (math suks)
Id like to burn this text book
I hate that stuff so much
Math suks (math suks), math suks (math suks)
Sometimes I think that I dont know that much
But math suks
I got so bored with my homework
I turned on the tv
The beauty pageant winners were all smiling through their teeth
And they asked the new miss america
Hey babe can you add up all those bucks
She looked puzzled then just said math suks
Math suks (math suks), math suks (math suks)
You dont even have to spell it
All you have to do is yell it
Math suks (math suks), math suks (math suks)
Sometime times I think that I dont know that much
But math suks
Geometry and trigonometry and if they dont tax your brain
There are numbers to big to be named
Numerical precision is a science with a mission
And I think its gonna drive me insane
Parents fighting with their children
And the congress cant agree
Teachers and their students are all jousting constantly
Management and labor keep rattling old sabres
Quacking like those peabody ducks
Math suks (quack quack), math suks (quack quack)
You dont even have to spell it
All you have to do is yell it
Math suks, thats right, math suks, you got it
Sometime times I think that I dont know that much
But math suks
All right there goes our g rating
Math suks, math suks, math suks the big one
Math suks, math suks, math suks the big one
Math suks, math suks, math suks the big one
Math suks, math suks, math suks, math suks

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Baby, Stop Crying

You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe,
But youre back where you belong.
Go get me my pistol, babe,
Honey, I cant tell right from wrong.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
Go down to the river, babe,
Honey, I will meet you there.
Go down to the river, babe,
Honey, I will pay your fare.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
If youre looking for assistance, babe,
Or if you just want some company
Or if you just want a friend you can talk to,
Honey, come and see about me.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.
You been hurt so many times
And I know what youre thinking of.
Well, I dont have to be no doctor, babe,
To see that youre madly in love.
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying, stop crying, stop crying
Baby, please stop crying.
You know, I know, the sun will always shine
So baby, please stop crying cause its tearing up my mind.

song performed by Bob Dylan
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Wasted

Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
Im so wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
Or who I am
I thought I could make it on my own
I thought I was indestructible
I had an excuse cause i was young
I thought I was so untouchable
I would throw it all away
I would throw my life away
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
Im so wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
I couldnt admit that I was wrong
I didnt fit in didnt belong
I was young
I was stupid
A life of despair
I was proud
I was angry
I just didnt care
I was everything I never wanted to be
I became my enemy
I would throw it all away
I would throw my life away
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
Im so wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
or who I am
They Said I had potential
They said I got whats coming to me
They say I got the devil (the devil)
and I dont know whats wrong with me
whats wrong with me
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
So wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
Im wasted again
Pasted out dont know who I am
So wasted again
Black out dont know where Ive been
Cause Im wasted again (so wasted)
Im wasted again (so wasted)
Im wasted again (so wasted)
Im wasted again (so wasted)
(so wasted)

[...] Read more

song performed by Goldfinger
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Crying Girl

Bryan:
She only cried ever other Tuesday night
She is a crying shame, she could had done something right
In this little town everybody knows her name
Now she's flown away the town will never be the same
Oh oh
Mark/all:
Her eulogy read that
This is the home
Yeah yeah
Of Jessie Chase
A.K.A.
Bryan/all:
The crying girl (the crying girl)
The crying girl (the crying girl)
She's the crying girl (the crying girl)
Little crying girl (the crying girl)
Bryan:
People in the street, crying cos she lost her life
All the spirits gone, finished up by the night
Ye-yeah
In this state of mind everybody makes mistakes
Yeah
But it's ignorance that let you have your life to take
Mark/all:
What nobody knows
She was my girl
Yes, I am the one
Who fell in love
Bryan/all:
With the crying girl (with the crying girl)
The !crying girl (the crying girl)
She the crying girl (with the crying girl)
Little crying girl (the crying girl)
Bryan:
Nobody knows her, nobody loves her now
Mark:
Nobody knows, nobody knows
All:
The crying girl
Bryan:
Nobody knows her, nobody loves her now
Mark:
Nobody knows, nobody knows
All:
The crying girl
Bryan:
Nobody knows her, nobody loves her now
Mark:
Nobody knows, nobody knows

[...] Read more

song performed by Westlife
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soul Crying Out

Listen to the rhythm
Listen to the beat
It has a cold wind blowing
Up through the street
Soul crying out
People crying out
In through the valleys
In through the streets
Feel the whole world moving
Underneath our feet
Somethings going on
I said what is going wrong
I feel them coming
So close behind
Sister says, were next in line
The man he says, thats ok
And the government says youre gonna pay, pay, pay
And you pay
Still you pay
Its just a soul crying out
Its just the people crying out
Its the land crying out
And I can hear you crying out
And I say, I dont know
Maybe I dont care
What I know is
I gotta get out of here
And Im going
Going any day
Some sweet day
Some sweet day
I gotta find a way
I can hear the lovers, whisper in the street
See a crowd has gathered underneath the heat
I hear what they say
But I dont believe what they say
I see the woman, with tears in her eyes
I hear the baby, calling in the night
Something on the bed, was it something she said
Hell this is not right
What goes on through the night
I hear her coming, all in my mind
Sweet common love, so hard to find
Someone said, man thats sa
And the people walk by, cos theyre so blind
And you pay
Still you pay
Its just a soul crying out
Just the people crying out
Its the earth crying out

[...] Read more

song performed by Simple Minds
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The Ballad of the White Horse

DEDICATION

Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?

Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?

In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.

Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.

Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.

Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.

Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.

But who shall look from Alfred's hood

[...] Read more

poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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I Saw It Myself (Short Verse Drama)

Dramatis Personae: Adrian, his wife Ester, his sisters Rebecca and Johanna, his mother Elizabeth, the high priest Chiapas, the disciple Simon Peter, the disciple John, Mary Magdalene, worshipers, priests, two angels and Jesus Christ.

Act I

Scene I.- Adrian’s house in Jerusalem. Adrian has just returned home after a business journey in Galilee, in time to attend the Passover feast. He sits at the table with his wife Ester and his sisters, Rebecca and Johanna. It’s just before sunset on the Friday afternoon.

Adrian. (Somewhat puzzled) Strange things are happening,
some say demons dwell upon the earth,
others angelic beings, miracles take place
and all of this when they had put a man to death,
had crucified a criminal. Everybody knows
the cross is used for degenerates only!

Rebecca. (With a pleasant voice) Such harsh words used,
for a good, a great man brother?
They say that without charge
he healed the sick, brought back sight,
cured leprosy, even made some more food,
from a few fishes and loafs of bread…

Adrian. (Somewhat harsh) They say many things!
That he rode into Jerusalem
to be crowned as the new king,
was a rebel against the state,
even claimed to be
the very Son of God,
now that is blasphemy
if there is no truth to it!

Johanna. I met him once.
He’s not the man
that you make him, brother.
There was a strange tranquilly to Him.
Some would say a divine presence,
while He spoke of love that is selfless,
visited the sick, the poor
and even the destitute, even harlots.

Adrian. (Looks up) There you have it!
Harlots! Tax collecting thieves!
A man is know by his friends,
or so they say and probably
there is some truth to it.

Ester. Husband, do not be so quick to judge.
I have seen Him myself, have seen
Roman soldiers marching Him to the hill
to take His life, with a angry crowd
following and mocking Him.

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Crying at the discoteque

Downtown's been caught by the hysteria
People scream and shout
A generation's on the move
When disco spreads like a bacteria
These lonely days are right
Welcome the passion of the groove

The golden years
The silver tears
You wore a tie like Richard Gere
I wanna get down
You spin me around
I stand on the borderline

Crying at the discoteque
Crying at the discoteque

I saw you crying
I saw you crying at the discoteque
I saw you crying
I saw you crying at the discoteque

Tonight's the night at the danceteria
The joining of the tribe
The speakers blasting clear and loud
The way you dance is our criteria
The DJ takes you high
Let tears of joy baptize the crowd

The golden years
The silver tears
You wore a tie like Richard Gere
I wanna get down
You spin me around
I stand on the borderline

Crying at the discoteque
Crying at the discoteque

I saw you crying
I saw you crying at the discoteque
I saw you crying
I saw you crying at the discoteque

The passion of the groove
Generation on the move
Joining of the disco tribe
Let the music take you high

The golden years

[...] Read more

song performed by Alcazar from Casino
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

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

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Otis Redding

Do you remember when we were hungry?
Do you remember when we were cold?
Do you remember when we were happy?
Do you remember? do you remember?
Do you remember when we were lucky?
We were livin the life almost every night
I would wrap you in my thin white arms
Sit and watch the stars glide
Yeah, do you remember when we were the losers?
Do you remember when we were the lame?
Do you remember when we were the lepers?
Do you remember? do you remember?
Do you remember when we were strung out?
Eatin top ramen, macaroni and cheese
We would get so lost in that basement room
Let the otis redding sing us to sleep
I wish I had one more life
I dont wanna be wasted
I dont wanna live inside this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be blind
I dont wanna be wasted
I dont wanna live inside this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be (blind)
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be (blind)
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be blind
I wish I could be like all my heroes
I wish I could be like all yours too
I wish I could sing like otis redding
I wish I could play this guitar in tune
Do you remember when we were hungry?
Do you remember when we were cold?
Do you remember when we were happy in a way
No one outside could ever know?
I wish I had one more life
How I wish I had one more life to live
I dont wanna be wasted
I dont wanna live inside of this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be (blind)
I dont wanna be wasted
No, I dont wanna live inside of this daydream anymore
I just wanna be happy again
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be
I dont wanna be wasted, I dont wanna be blind
No, I dont want to be blind
No, I dont want to be blind

song performed by Everclear
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wasted Years

Wasted years been brainwashed by lies
Oh yes I have
Oh wasted years
Im talking about wasted years
Oh Im not seeing eye-to-eye
I just cant see the things I should see
Wasted years, baby
I was taking the wrong advice
I know you was, I know you was
And I was too
All alone Im travelling
Travelling through these wasted years
For so long, so long, so long I was
Oh, I must have gained some wisdom
Down through the years I did
Somewhere along the way
Oh yes, I did, oh yes I did
Thets why there cant be no more
No more
No more wasted years today
I got wise, I got wise to myself
Well baby the great sadness
Oh, youve got to let it all go
Oh yeah, oh yeah van
Live in the present
Live in the future john lee, aint that so
Oh, its a sad feeling, oh yeah
Oh, youve gotta find something
To carry you through, carry you through,
Carry you through
Ive learned my lesson
I aint gonna do it no more, yeah
Now van
Now john
Ive learned my lesson
I should have a long time ago
Thats right
All these wasted years, wasted years
I finally woke up and got wise
I aint gonna be, aint gonna be no fool no more
Now van, now van
Aint gonna be nobodys bodys fool no more
Sing the song van, sing it with me
Well all alone, all alone Ive been travelling
Yeah
Travelling all along through these wasted years
Dark, dark wasted years
So dark here
Dark, dark, dark, dark wasted years
I must have gained something

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wasted (original Demo)

Oh, somebody else is looking up
Oh, somebody else is showing how you do it
I never fall in love
I just fall out of it
I never get enough
I just say enough of this
And I've had enough of this
Wasted words you gave me
Wasted talk is cheap
Wasted, I think your eyes are killing me
Wasted somewhere in between
Oh, another fight is going down
Oh, and nobody else is making a sound
I always say too much
I always miss the bus
I never get enough
I just say enough of this
I've had enough of this
Wasted words you gave me
Wasted talk is cheap
Wasted, I think your eyes are killing me
Wasted somewhere in between
Oh, I guess I'm breaking through
Oh, and it's all the same without you
I never fell in love
I just fell out of it
I never had enough
I just had enough of this
I've had enough of this
Wasted words you gave me
Wasted talk is cheap
Wasted, I think your eyes are killing me
Wasted somewhere

song performed by Vertical Horizon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Crying

Lyrics and music by roy orbison and joe melson
I was alright for awhile
I could smile for awhile
But I saw you last night
You held my hand so tight
As you stopped to say hello oh you wished me well
You couldnt tell that Id been
Crying over you
Crying over you
When you said, so long
Left me standing all alone
Alone and crying
Crying, crying, crying, crying
Its hard to understand
How the touch of your hand
Can start me crying
I thought that I was over you
But its true, oh so true
I love you even more
Than I did bfore
But darling what can I do?
For you dont love me
And Ill always be
Crying for you
Crying for you
Yes now youre gone
And from this moment on
Ill be crying, crying, crying, crying
Yes crying
Crying
Over you

song performed by Vonda Shepard
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Laughers

Spring!
And her hidden bugles up the street.
Spring -- and the sweet
Laughter of winds at the crossing;
Laughter of birds and a fountain tossing
Its hair in abandoned ecstasies.
Laughter of trees.
Laughter of shop-girls that giggle and blush;
Laugh of the tug-boat's impertinent fife.
Laughter followed by a trembling hush --
Laughter of love, scarce whispered aloud.
Then, stilled by no sacredness or strife,
Laughter that leaps from the crowd;
Seizing the world in a rush.
Laughter of life...

Earth takes deep breaths like a man who had feared he might smother,
Filling his lungs before bursting into a shout....
Windows are opened -- curtains flying out;
Over the wash-lines women call to each other.
And, under the calling, there surges, too clearly to doubt,
Spring, with the noises
Of shrill, little voices;
Joining in 'Tag' and the furious chase
Of 'I-spy,' 'Red Rover' and 'Prisoner's Base';
Of the roller-skates whir at the sidewalk's slope,
Of boys playing marbles and girls skipping rope.
And there, down the avenue, behold,
The first true herald of the Spring --
The hand-organ gasping and wheezily murmuring
Its tunes ten-years old....
And the music, trivial and tawdry, has freshness and magical swing.
And over and under it,
During and after --
The laughter
Of Spring!...

And lifted still
With the common thrill,
With the throbbing air, the tingling vapor,
That rose like strong and mingled wines;
I turned to my paper,
And read these lines:
'Now that the Spring is here,
The war enters its bloodiest phase...
The men are impatient....
Bad roads, storms and the rigors of the winter
Have held back the contending armies....
But the recruits have arrived,
And are waiting only the first days of warm weather....

[...] Read more

poem by Louis Untermeyer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Wasted

Wasted
I'm so wasted
empty since you left me
I still need him and want him
without him I'm nothing
if I can't do something
to get him to come home on to me

Wasted
love's been wasted
guess I'm not too brainy
I was selfish and foolish
I used and abused him
and laughed when he threatened to walk out
but now he's done it

He was like the moon
he had his darker side
but he could be the sun
shinning in the light

Wasted
sure I'm wasted
knowing he don't love me
such a sad thing about him
to know that I love him
and nothing I say or I do will return
say I'm wasted

He was like the moon
he had his darker side
but he could be the sun
shinning in the light

Wasted
sure I'm wasted
knowing he don't love me
wasted
sure I'm wasted
knowing he don't love me..

song performed by Donna Summer from A Love Trilogy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Im Crying

Are you loving him just the way,
That I loved you when you walked away?
Whoa, Im crying, crying.
Do you need him just the way,
That I needed you when you left that day?
Whoa, Im crying, crying.
Crying, crying.
Do you think that hes so glad[? ],
Do you think he loves you so?
Do you think that hed be mad,
If you never come on home?
Im crying, crying, crying.
Now my days are spent in sin[? ],
Now that you are loving him.
Whoa, Im crying, crying.
If you suddenly realize,
That hes not the one to spend your life with,
Whoa, Im crying, crying.
Crying, crying.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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