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Easter at Spanish Cove

As always when a holiday is here
Food miraculously arrives
For Spanish Cove they have
Cooks where perfection thrives

Fresh, delicious and tasty
Tables set up with such style
Folks lined up to fill their plates
Food that satisfies for awhile

Lovely flowers graced the tables
And put everyone in the mood
For Easter dinner is special
Nowhere can you find better food

The color and freshness of fruit
Adorned the enormous salad bar
Looking very festive as well
And wanted to be the star

I hope you had a special Easter
Like the folks who love to rove
A delicious dinner like the ones
Who had Easter at Spanish Cove!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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Style

(style) style, uh!
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Style, dig it
(style) style, come on
Uh, style
Style is not something that comes in a bottle
Style is more like jackie o. when she was doin aristotle
Style is not a logo that sticks 2 the roof of ones ass
Style is like a second cousin 2 class
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, say what?
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, check it
Style aint sittin court side with the owner of the team
Style is owning the court and charging em all a fee
Style is not lusting after someone because theyre cool
Style is loving yourself til everyone else does 2
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, well well
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style dont get drunk on a saturday night
Try 2 dress up every sunday mornin bright
Style dont get married then break the vow in a year
Style is keepin a promise
Raise your hand yall if u hear me
(style) {x2}
Style is not biting style when u cant find the funk
Style is the face u make on a michael jordon dunk
Style aint the jeep u bought when u know your broke ass got bills
Style is lettin your lover drive while u talk on the phone and chill
U got it! - style
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style is a gold-tooth smile with an attitude
Style is a peaceful wild postin the rude
Style is growing your own food
Style is a non-violent march
Style is an accurate account of whats inside every heart (style)
Style is not a lie
Style is a man that cries
Style is the glow in a pregnant womans eyes
(style) {x4}
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, do that, do that
U got it! - style, got it?
U got it! - style, mad, come on

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fishing

delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicio us
delicious
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious
delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious delicious
delicious

poem by Nyein Way
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Green Spanish Eyes

Ah Consuela! Surveying vast vistas for visions of green Spanish eyes,
I discern them again where she left me back then, when we kissed as she parted, my friend.
So I'm daring to tread towards the klieg lights ahead, where I'll wait and I'll watch her ascend.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, she teases the mirror with green Spanish eyes;
Her serape entangles her ebony bangles like lace on the sorcerer's looms,
And her capes of the night, she drapes tight to excite, and her fan is embellished with plumes.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching as spectators savour her green Spanish eyes;
Taming wild concertinas, the dark ballerina performs on the concert hall stage,
But she shies from the sound of ovation unbound like a timorous bird in a cage.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, she quickens the pit with her green Spanish eyes,
As the cymbals shake, clashing, the floodlights wake, flashing, igniting the wild fireflies,
And the piccolo piper's inviting the vipers to coil in the cold caldron skies.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching the shimmering shadows in green Spanish eyes
As I rise from my chair and converge to the stair with a hesitant sip of my wine.
Though she doesn't deny me, she wanders right by me with neither a look nor a sign.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, she waves to the stage with her green Spanish eyes,
(For her senses scoff, scorning the biblical warning of kisses of Judas that sting,
With her pierced ears defeating the echoes repeating) and smiles at the bluebird that sings.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching faint embers a' stir in her green Spanish eyes,
For a soft spoken stranger enveloping danger has captured the rhyme in the room
As he slips into sight through the scent of the night and the breath of her heavy perfume.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, she gauges his guise through her green Spanish eyes
- From his gypsy-like mane, to his diamond stud cane, to the raven engraved on his vest -
For a faraway form, a tempestuous storm, lurks and heaves neath the cleav'e of her breasts.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching the caravels cruise in her green Spanish eyes;
With the castanets clacking upon the deck cracking, he whips 'round his cloak with a whiz
And without sacrificing, at mien so enticing, she floats with her face facing his.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, the vertigo veiling her green Spanish eyes,
While the drumbeat pounds, droning, the rhythm sounds, moaning, of jungles Jamaican entwined
In the valleys concealing the vineyards revealing the vaults in the caves of her mind.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, while carnivals call to her green Spanish eyes,
And with paused palpitations the tom-tom temptations come taunting her tremulous feet
With her toe tips a' tingle while jute boxes jingle for jesters that jive on the street.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, she rides with the tides in her green Spanish eyes,
And her silhouette's travelling on ripples unravelling and shaking the shivering shores,
As she strides from the light to the taste of the night through the candlelit cabaret doors.

Ah Consuela! I'm watching, she dances till dawn with her green Spanish eyes,
With her movements adorning a trickle of morning as sipped by the mouth of the moon,

[...] Read more

poem by Terry O'Leary
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.

SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.

Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.

FIRST Angel.

Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.

SECOND Angel.

How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.

THIRD Angel.

O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.

FOURTH Angel.

Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It Fills You Up

Theres something going on
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Theres something going on
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
But you dont know what it is
But you dont know what it is
But you dont have to know
You just take it for what it is (spoken)
Within this melody
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Theres more then you can see
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Theres another realm
Theres another world
With kings and queens
Yeah yeah
Thats why you got to face the facts
Thats why you gotta testify (suggested)
You gotta do and die (suggested)
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
You got to do in that
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
You got to sing with the music and groove
You got to turn on the music and groove
Every every every day
You know what Im talking about (spoken)
It fill you up, it fill you up (spoken)
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Yeah!
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Yeah!
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Get you rolling in the money
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Work out a few kinks
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
It fill you up to the brim jim
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Lord have mercy
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Come here baby
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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It Fill You Up

There's something going on
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
There's something going on
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
But you don't know what it is
But you don't know what it is
But you don't have to know
You just take it for what it is (spoken)
Within this melody
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
There's more then you can see
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
There's another realm
There's another world
With kings and queens
Yeah yeah
That's why you got to face the facts
That's why you gotta testify (suggested)
You gotta do and die (suggested)
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
You got to do in that
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
You got to sing with the music and groove
You got to turn on the music and groove
Every every every day
You know what I'm talking about (spoken)
It fill you up, it fill you up (spoken)
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Yeah!
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Yeah!
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Get you rolling in the money
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Work out a few kinks
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
It fill you up to the brim Jim
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Lord have mercy
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
Come here baby
It fill you up, it fill you up, it fill you up now
(Transcribed by ear; corrections requested and welcomed!)

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Hooray Hooray

=================================================
Boney M - Hooray! Hooray! (It's A Holi-holiday)
=================================================
Diggy di di doo diggy diggy di doo (hi dee hi dee ho)
Diggy di di doo diggy diggy di di (hi dee hi dee ho)
Diggy di di doo diggy diggy di di (hi dee hi dee ho)
Diggy di di doo diggy diggy di doo (hi dee hi dee ho)
Theres place I know where we should go (hi dee hi dee ho)
Wont you take me there, your lady fair (hi dee hi dee ho)
Theres a brook nearby, the grass grows high (hi dee hi dee ho)
Where we both can hide side by side (hi dee hi dee ho)
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday
Theres a country fair not far from there (hi dee hi dee ho)
On a carousels the ding-dong bell (hi dee hi dee ho)
On the loop-di-loop well swing and swoop (hi dee hi dee ho)
And what else well do is up to you (hi dee hi dee ho)
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday
Well, Im game, fun is the thing Im after
Now lets all live it up today, get set for love and laughter
Well, lets go, time isnt here for wasting
Life is so full of sweet sweet things, Id like to do some tasting
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday
On the country side well take a ride (hi dee hi dee ho)
Where the stars all shine and lots of time (hi dee hi dee ho)
Back of your old car we might get far (hi dee hi dee ho)
In the summer breeze we feel at ease (hi dee hi dee ho)
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday, its a holi-holiday

song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hooray! Hooray! Its A Holi-holiday

Digge ding ding ding digge digge ding ding
Hey - di - hey - di - hoh
Digge ding ding ding digge digge ding ding
Hey - di - hey - di - hoh
Theres a place I know where we should go - heydiheydihoh
Won t you take me there your lady fair - heydiheydihoh
Theres a brook near-by the grass grows high - heydiheydihoh
Where we both can hide side by side - heydiheydihoh
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday
Theres a country fair not far from there - heydiheydihoh
On a carousel the dingdong bell - heydiheydihoh
On the loop di loop we swing and swoop - heydiheydihoh
And what else well do is up to you - heydiheydihoh
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday
Well, Im game
Fun is the thing Im after
Now lets alive it up today
Get set for love and laughter
Well, lets go
Time isnt here for wasting
Life is so full of sweet sweet things
Id like to do some tasting
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday
In the country side we take a ride - heydiheydihoh
Where the stars will shine lots of time - heydiheydihoh
Back of your old car we might get far - heydiheydihoh
In the summerbreeze we feel at ease - heydiheydihoh
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday
Hooray! hooray! its a holi-holiday
Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday
Its a holi-holiday, its a holi-holiday

song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Overweight with Food

Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!

Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Victories Of Love. Book I

I
From Frederick Graham

Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:

As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
Added by Poetry Lover
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Holiday

Key: G
(w/m by Jimmy Buffett)
The weather channel girl with her perfect weather curl
Is talkin' cold, cold, cold.
You can't get out of bed, you can't remember what you've said,
You're feelin' old, old, old.
Is it a fever or depression, anger or obsession,
What's the remedy?
We're not talkin' rocket science, the answer to your question's
Very plain to see.
Chorus: You need a Holiday, (you need a holiday) take a Holiday (take a
holiday).
Find a far-off wonderland where you might regain
Command of your life today.
Take a Holiday, (take a holiday) you need a Holiday (you need a holiday).
Grab a pack and hit the trail, take a sail
And wind up in some moonlit bay.
2nd Ver: You're caught up in the Internet,
You think it's such a great asset, but you're wrong, wrong, wrong.
And all that fiber optic gear
Still cannot take away the fear like an island song.
Disregard confession, stop tryin' to make impressions
On your corporate climb.
It might come as quite a shock but you can't really own that rock,
It's just a waste of time (state of mind).
Chorus: So take a Holiday. You need a Holiday.
Find a place to find yourself, take your life down off that shelf,
Quit actin' so blase.
Take a Holiday. You need a Holiday.
Grab a pack and hit the trail, take a sail
And wind up in some moonlit bay.
Trombone Instrumental (C / Cm6 / G / D-2 / E-2 / Am / D-2 / D+ 2 / G / G7 )
Steel Drum Instr (C / Cm6 / G / D-2 / E-2 / Am / D-2 / D+ 2 / G / -notes
B-Bb-A-Ab-G)
3rd Ver: Well it's only up to you, no one else can tell you to
Go out and have some fun.
Though if you want to stay alive, evade the big nose dive,
Be a ko-mee-dee-yun.
Chorus: And take a Holiday. You need a Holiday.
Find a far-off wonderland where you might regain
Command of your life today.
Take a Holiday. You need a Holiday.
Grab a pack and hit the trail, take a sail
And wind up in some moonlit bay.
Chorus: So take a Holiday. You need a Holiday.
Find a place to find yourself, take your life down off that shelf,
Quit actin' so blase.
Take a Holiday. You need a Holiday.
Grab a pack and hit the trail, take a sail
And wind up in some moonlit bay.

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Style (Pablo)

Now here comes a musical shack attack
Really on truly design to make you rock
Whether you white or black
In a pants or frock
Round a front or back
Down an bottom or on top
Is Pablo Ranks round the microphone a chat
On the musical shack attack seen (Dreadlocks)
Here them style ya now star
Ca me say if a don't Patton then a style
A me say is a don't Patton them a style (Smile)
A mi say if a don't patton them a style (Wicked on wile)
Say if a don't Patton them a style
Mi young a say strong Jah know mi well virile
True mi eant everything them a say that spwile
Man mi run way left mi yard them a say that mi wile
Say mi lock the education but mi versatile, true mi
Sell the callie weel on them mi collect the kile
Babylon want fi hold mi it is just for a while
Say mi break out a jail a man use a file
Say mi head in a the mountain - under low profile
Mi say if a don't Patton them a style (right)
A me say if a don't Patton them a style (Flashitta)
Ca me say if a don't Patton then a style (Bubble)
A mi say if a don't Patton then a style
But a true say Pablo cool Pablo wasn't hostile
Mi rub down fi mi skin yes in a coconut oil
Me rap ip fi mi weed in a bacofile
Mi chat the rub a dub fi make the girls them smile
The blood in a them body (man) me want it fi boil
With swet a run them back like a engine oil
With the lyrics them a fire like any missile
Pablo Ranks around the mic as your disciplin child
Well mi fire fi mi lyrics for a million mile
All the girls them in the dance say him dea under profile
Ca me say if a don't Patton them a style
A me say if a don't Patton them astyle (wicked and wile)
Say if a don't Patton then a style (Gwan)
Ca me say if a don't them a style
You know say Pablo Ranks him a you cullicked yard child
A tell you that Patton that a Patton
Me say style a style
But a snake on a lizard on a crocodile
But a them dea creature me say call reptile
But anywhere you go, you know those a pure style
But a Pablo Rankin dea ya cause him wicked and wile
Come fi run down the rubadub in a yard style
Make the girls them in the dance hall feel fi smile
Make the blood in a them body (just) starte fi boil
Make the swet a run them back like a engine oil

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song performed by Ub40
Added by Lucian Velea
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Delicious

April, (? )
When you get that smile in your eye.
Something inside
Goes wild wild wild.
Sunshine
Chase away my rainy days.
Our summer leave
Is here. please stay.
Chorus:
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Rainbow
Let me know the storm has past.
These memories
Will last and last.
Passion
Curling through the core of the night.
Where have you been
All my life.
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that sets me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
We as one
Here we lie.
Holding hands
Across the sky.
Please be mine. Ill never ever leave you.
Please be mine.
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that sets me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious. (put the fire in my heart)
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.

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song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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II. Half-Rome

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

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

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Baby, Im In The Mood For You

Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna leave my lonesome home
And sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna hear my milk cow moan
And sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna hit the highway road
But then again, but then again, I said oh, I said oh, I said
Oh babe, Im in the mood for you.
Sometimes Im in the mood, lord, I had my overflowin fill
Sometimes Im in the mood, Im gonna make out my final will
Sometimes Im in the mood, Im gonna head for the walkin hill
But then again, but then again, I said oh, I said oh, I said
Oh babe, Im in the mood for you.
Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna lay right down and die
Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna climb up to the sky
Sometimes Im in the mood, Im gonna laugh until I cry
But then again, I said again, I said again, I said
Oh babe, Im in the mood for you.
Sometimes Im in the mood, Im gonna sleep in my ponys stall
Sometimes Im in the mood, I aint gonna do nothin at all
Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna fly like a cannon ball
But then again, but then again, I said oh, I said oh, I said
Oh babe, Im in the mood for you.
Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna back up against the wall
Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna run till I have to crawl
Sometimes Im in the mood, I aint gonna do nothin at all
But then again, but then again, I said oh, I said oh, I said
Oh babe, Im in the mood for you.
Sometimes Im in the mood, I wanna change my house around
Sometimes Im in the mood, Im gonna make a change in this here town
Sometimes Im in the mood, Im gonna change the world around
But then again, but then again, I said oh, I said oh, I said
Oh babe, Im in the mood for you.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

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

[transcribed by dave a]
Holiday
By: jimmy buffett, ralph macdonald, bill eaton, william salter
1996
The weather channel girl
With her perfect weather curl
Is talking cold, cold, cold
You cant get out of bed
You cant remember what youve said
Youre feeling old, old, old
Is it fever or depression
Anger or agression
Whats the remedy?
Were not talking rocket science
The answer to your questions
Very plain to see
Chorus
You need a holiday
Take a holiday
Find a far off wonderland
Where you might regain command
Of your life today
Take a holiday
You need a holiday
Grab a pack and hit the trail
Take a sail
And wind up in some moonlight bay
Youre caught up in the internet
You think its such a great asset
But youre wrong, wrong, wrong
All that fiber optic gear
Still cannot take away the fear
Like an island song
Disregard confession
Stop trying to make impressions
On your corporate climb
It might come as quite a shock
But you cant really own that rock
Its just a waste of time
So, take a holiday
You need a holiday
Find a place to find yourself
Take your life down off that shelf
Quit acting so blase
Take a holiday
You need a holiday
Grab a pack and hit the trail
Take a sail
And wind up in some moonlight bay
Well its only up to you

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song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

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