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Killing Gunther

Cast: Cobie Smulders, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Hannah Simone, Taran Killam, Allison Tolman, Steve Bacic, Aaron Yoo, Bobby Moynihan, Peter Kelamis

trailer for Killing Gunther, directed by Taran Killam, screenplay by Taran Killam (2017)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Peter Bell, A Tale

PROLOGUE

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon;
But through the clouds I'll never float
Until I have a little Boat,
Shaped like the crescent-moon.

And now I 'have' a little Boat,
In shape a very crescent-moon
Fast through the clouds my boat can sail;
But if perchance your faith should fail,
Look up--and you shall see me soon!

The woods, my Friends, are round you roaring,
Rocking and roaring like a sea;
The noise of danger's in your ears,
And ye have all a thousand fears
Both for my little Boat and me!

Meanwhile untroubled I admire
The pointed horns of my canoe;
And, did not pity touch my breast,
To see how ye are all distrest,
Till my ribs ached, I'd laugh at you!

Away we go, my Boat and I--
Frail man ne'er sate in such another;
Whether among the winds we strive,
Or deep into the clouds we dive,
Each is contented with the other.

Away we go--and what care we
For treasons, tumults, and for wars?
We are as calm in our delight
As is the crescent-moon so bright
Among the scattered stars.

Up goes my Boat among the stars
Through many a breathless field of light,
Through many a long blue field of ether,
Leaving ten thousand stars beneath her:
Up goes my little Boat so bright!

The Crab, the Scorpion, and the Bull--
We pry among them all; have shot
High o'er the red-haired race of Mars,
Covered from top to toe with scars;
Such company I like it not!

[...] Read more

poem by William Wordsworth
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Peter Bell The Third

BY MICHING MALLECHO, Esq.

Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!

Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.

Ophelia.-What means this, my lord?
Hamlet.-Marry, this is Miching Mallecho; it means mischief.
~Shakespeare.

PROLOGUE
Pet er Bells, one, two and three,
O'er the wide world wandering be.-
First, the antenatal Peter,
Wrapped in weeds of the same metre,
The so-long-predestined raiment
Clothed in which to walk his way meant
The second Peter; whose ambition
Is to link the proposition,
As the mean of two extremes-
(This was learned from Aldric's themes)
Shielding from the guilt of schism
The orthodoxal syllogism;
The First Peter-he who was
Like the shadow in the glass
Of the second, yet unripe,
His substantial antitype.-
Then came Peter Bell the Second,
Who henceforward must be reckoned
The body of a double soul,
And that portion of the whole
Without which the rest would seem
Ends of a disjointed dream.-
And the Third is he who has
O'er the grave been forced to pass
To the other side, which is,-
Go and try else,-just like this.
Peter Bell the First was Peter
Smugger, milder, softer, neater,
Like the soul before it is
Born from that world into this.
The next Peter Bell was he,
Predevote, like you and me,
To good or evil as may come;
His was the severer doom,-

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The peter-bird

Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter,
And from the orchard a voice echoes and echoes it over;
Down in the pasture the sheep hear that strange crying for Peter,
Over the meadows that call is aye and forever repeated.
So let me tell you the tale, when, where, and how it all happened,
And, when the story is told, let us pay heed to the lesson.

Once on a time, long ago, lived in the State of Kentucky
One that was reckoned a witch--full of strange spells and devices;
Nightly she wandered the woods, searching for charms voodooistic--
Scorpions, lizards, and herbs, dormice, chameleons, and plantains!
Serpents and caw-caws and bats, screech-owls and crickets and adders--
These were the guides of that witch through the dank deeps of the forest.
Then, with her roots and her herbs, back to her cave in the morning
Ambled that hussy to brew spells of unspeakable evil;
And, when the people awoke, seeing that hillside and valley
Sweltered in swathes as of mist--"Look!" they would whisper in terror--
"Look! the old witch is at work brewing her spells of great evil!"
Then would they pray till the sun, darting his rays through the vapor,
Lifted the smoke from the earth and baffled the witch's intentions.

One of the boys at that time was a certain young person named Peter,
Given too little to work, given too largely to dreaming;
Fonder of books than of chores, you can imagine that Peter
Led a sad life on the farm, causing his parents much trouble.
"Peter!" his mother would call, "the cream is a'ready for churning!"
"Peter!" his father would cry, "go grub at the weeds in the garden!"
So it was "Peter!" all day--calling, reminding, and chiding--
Peter neglected his work; therefore that nagging at Peter!

Peter got hold of some books--how, I'm unable to tell you;
Some have suspected the witch--this is no place for suspicions!
It is sufficient to stick close to the thread of the legend.
Nor is it stated or guessed what was the trend of those volumes;
What thing soever it was--done with a pen and a pencil,
Wrought with a brain, not a hoe--surely 't was hostile to farming!

"Fudge on all readin'!" they quoth; or "that's what's the ruin of
Peter!"

So, when the mornings were hot, under the beech or the maple,
Cushioned in grass that was blue, breathing the breath of the blossoms,
Lulled by the hum of the bees, the coo of the ring-doves a-mating,
Peter would frivol his time at reading, or lazing, or dreaming.
"Peter!" his mother would call, "the cream is a'ready for churning!"
"Peter!" his father would cry, "go grub at the weeds in the garden!"
"Peter!" and "Peter!" all day--calling, reminding, and chiding--
Peter neglected his chores; therefore that outcry for Peter;
Therefore the neighbors allowed evil would surely befall him--
Yes, on account of these things, ruin would come upon Peter!

[...] Read more

poem by Eugene Field
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Sir Peter Harpdon's End

In an English Castle in Poictou. Sir Peter Harpdon, a Gascon knight in the English service, and John Curzon, his lieutenant.

John Curzon

Of those three prisoners, that before you came
We took down at St. John's hard by the mill,
Two are good masons; we have tools enough,
And you have skill to set them working.

Sir Peter

So-
What are their names?

John Curzon

Why, Jacques Aquadent,
And Peter Plombiere, but-

Sir Peter

What colour'd hair
Has Peter now? has Jacques got bow legs?

John Curzon

Why, sir, you jest: what matters Jacques' hair,
Or Peter's legs to us?

Sir Peter

O! John, John, John!
Throw all your mason's tools down the deep well,
Hang Peter up and Jacques; they're no good,
We shall not build, man.

John Curzon

going.

Shall I call the guard
To hang them, sir? and yet, sir, for the tools,
We'd better keep them still; sir, fare you well.

[...] Read more

poem by William Morris
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Obsessed With You

You are just a concept
You are just a dream
You're just a reflection
Of the new regime
You are just a symbol
You are just theme
You're just another figure
For the sales machine
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo cos they're watching
Yoo ooo
You are just a victim
You are just a find
Soon to be a casualty
Of time
You are just a concept
You are just a dream
You're just a reflection
Of the new regime
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo cos they're watching
Yoo ooo
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo cos they're watching
Yoo ooo
You are just a victim
You are just a find
Soon to be a casualty
Of time
You are just a symbol
You are just theme
You're just another figure
For the sales machine
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo cos they're watching
Yoo ooo
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo
Ooo ooo they're obsessed
With yoo ooo

[...] Read more

song performed by X-Ray Spex
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Me & Bobby Mc Gee

Demo (take 5) 20 07 1970
S130 is not on. not that i'm playin' that great but still in all i oughta be able to hear it, y'know what i mean ?
Are you hearing it now ?
No. now. it's too loud. i can't play that good. am i havin' some of that texas accent back ?
I hope so.
But i always sound like this, man, i hear myself on tape i always sound like this.
Take 5.
God! shall i start that way ? ready ?
Over to you baby.
Busted flat in baton rouge, waiting for a train
And i's feelin' nearly as faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,
It rode us all the way in to new orleans.
I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna,
An' i's playin' soft while bobby sang the blues, yeah.
Windshield wipers slapping time, i was holding bobby's hand in mine,
We sang every song that driver knew.
Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free.
Yeah, an' feeling good was easy, lord, bobby sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me, hmm mm,
Good enough for me and my bobby mcgee.
From the kentucky coal mines to the california sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything that we done,
Said bobby baby, he kept me from the cold.
One day up near salinas, lord, i let him slip away,
But he was lookin' for that home and i hope he finds it.
But i'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
To be holdin' bobby's body next to mine.
Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, that's all that bobby left me, yeah.
Feelin' good was easy, lord, bobby he sang the blues,
I said feeling good was good enough for me, hmm mm,
It's good enough for me and my bobby mcgee.
La la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la
La la la la la bobby mcgee.
La la la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la la, bobby mcgee.
La la la, la la la la la la,
La la la, la la la la la la,
Na na na na na na na na, bobby mcgee, yeah.
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na,
Hey now bobby lord, bobby mcgee, yeah.
Hell, i'm calling my lover, calling my man,
I said i'm calling my lover, i do the best i can,
I said now c'mon,bobby now, come on bobby mcgee, yeah.
Lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy lord
Hey, hey, hey, bobby mcgee, yeah!

[...] Read more

song performed by Janis Joplin
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Borough. Letter XXII: Peter Grimes

Old Peter Grimes made fishing his employ,
His wife he cabin'd with him and his boy,
And seem'd that life laborious to enjoy:
To town came quiet Peter with his fish,
And had of all a civil word and wish.
He left his trade upon the sabbath-day,
And took young Peter in his hand to pray:
But soon the stubborn boy from care broke loose,
At first refused, then added his abuse:
His father's love he scorn'd, his power defied,
But being drunk, wept sorely when he died.

Yes! then he wept, and to his mind there came
Much of his conduct, and he felt the shame,--
How he had oft the good old man reviled,
And never paid the duty of a child;
How, when the father in his Bible read,
He in contempt and anger left the shed:
"It is the word of life," the parent cried;
--"This is the life itself," the boy replied;
And while old Peter in amazement stood,
Gave the hot spirit to his boiling blood:--
How he, with oath and furious speech, began
To prove his freedom and assert the man;
And when the parent check'd his impious rage,
How he had cursed the tyranny of age,--
Nay, once had dealt the sacrilegious blow
On his bare head, and laid his parent low;
The father groan'd--"If thou art old," said he,
"And hast a son--thou wilt remember me:
Thy mother left me in a happy time,
Thou kill'dst not her--Heav'n spares the double-crime."

On an inn-settle, in his maudlin grief,
This he revolved, and drank for his relief.

Now lived the youth in freedom, but debarr'd
From constant pleasure, and he thought it hard;
Hard that he could not every wish obey,
But must awhile relinquish ale and play;
Hard! that he could not to his cards attend,
But must acquire the money he would spend.

With greedy eye he look'd on all he saw,
He knew not justice, and he laugh'd at law;
On all he mark'd he stretch'd his ready hand;
He fish'd by water, and he filch'd by land:
Oft in the night has Peter dropp'd his oar,
Fled from his boat and sought for prey on shore;
Oft up the hedge-row glided, on his back

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Me Bobby Mc Gee

Demo (take 5) 20 07 1970
S130 is not on. not that Im playin that great but still in all I oughta be able to hear it, yknow what I mean ?
Are you hearing it now ?
No. now. its too loud. I cant play that good. am I havin some of that texas accent back ?
I hope so.
But I always sound like this, man, I hear myself on tape I always sound like this.
Take 5.
God! shall I start that way ? ready ?
Over to you baby.
Busted flat in baton rouge, waiting for a train
And is feelin nearly as faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,
It rode us all the way in to new orleans.
I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna,
An is playin soft while bobby sang the blues, yeah.
Windshield wipers slapping time, I was holding bobbys hand in mine,
We sang every song that driver knew.
Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing dont mean nothing honey if it aint free.
Yeah, an feeling good was easy, lord, bobby sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me, hmm mm,
Good enough for me and my bobby mcgee.
From the kentucky coal mines to the california sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything that we done,
Said bobby baby, he kept me from the cold.
One day up near salinas, lord, I let him slip away,
But he was lookin for that home and I hope he finds it.
But Id trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
To be holdin bobbys body next to mine.
Freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, thats all that bobby left me, yeah.
Feelin good was easy, lord, bobby he sang the blues,
I said feeling good was good enough for me, hmm mm,
Its good enough for me and my bobby mcgee.
La la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la
La la la la la bobby mcgee.
La la la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la la, bobby mcgee.
La la la, la la la la la la,
La la la, la la la la la la,
Na na na na na na na na, bobby mcgee, yeah.
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na,
Hey now bobby lord, bobby mcgee, yeah.
Hell, Im calling my lover, calling my man,
I said Im calling my lover, I do the best I can,
I said now cmon,bobby now, come on bobby mcgee, yeah.
Lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy, lordy lord
Hey, hey, hey, bobby mcgee, yeah!

[...] Read more

song performed by Janis Joplin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peter Anderson And Co.

He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago,
And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.',
But his real name was Careless, as the fellows understood --
And his relatives decided that he wasn't any good.
'Twas their gentle tongues that blasted any `character' he had --
He was fond of beer and leisure -- and the Co. was just as bad.
It was limited in number to a unit, was the Co. --
'Twas a bosom chum of Peter and his Christian name was Joe.

'Tis a class of men belonging to these soul-forsaken years:
Third-rate canvassers, collectors, journalists and auctioneers.
They are never very shabby, they are never very spruce --
Going cheerfully and carelessly and smoothly to the deuce.
Some are wanderers by profession, `turning up' and gone as soon,
Travelling second-class, or steerage (when it's cheap they go saloon);
Free from `ists' and `isms', troubled little by belief or doubt --
Lazy, purposeless, and useless -- knocking round and hanging out.
They will take what they can get, and they will give what they can give,
God alone knows how they manage -- God alone knows how they live!
They are nearly always hard-up, but are cheerful all the while --
Men whose energy and trousers wear out sooner than their smile!
They, no doubt, like us, are haunted by the boresome `if' or `might',
But their ghosts are ghosts of daylight -- they are men who live at night!

Peter met you with the comic smile of one who knows you well,
And is mighty glad to see you, and has got a joke to tell;
He could laugh when all was gloomy, he could grin when all was blue,
Sing a comic song and act it, and appreciate it, too.
Only cynical in cases where his own self was the jest,
And the humour of his good yarns made atonement for the rest.
Seldom serious -- doing business just as 'twere a friendly game --
Cards or billiards -- nothing graver. And the Co. was much the same.

They tried everything and nothing 'twixt the shovel and the press,
And were more or less successful in their ventures -- mostly less.
Once they ran a country paper till the plant was seized for debt,
And the local sinners chuckle over dingy copies yet.

They'd been through it all and knew it in the land of Bills and Jims --
Using Peter's own expression, they had been in `various swims'.
Now and then they'd take an office, as they called it, -- make a dash
Into business life as `agents' -- something not requiring cash.
(You can always furnish cheaply, when your cash or credit fails,
With a packing-case, a hammer, and a pound of two-inch nails --
And, maybe, a drop of varnish and sienna, too, for tints,
And a scrap or two of oilcloth, and a yard or two of chintz).
They would pull themselves together, pay a week's rent in advance,
But it never lasted longer than a month by any chance.

The office was their haven, for they lived there when hard-up --

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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Hard Hearted Hannah

In old Savannah
I said Savannah
The weather there is nice and warm
The climate's of a southern brand
But here's what I don't understand
They've got a gal there
A pretty gal there
Who's colder than an artic storm
Got a heart just like a stone
Even nice men leave her alone
They call her "hard hearted Hannah"
The vamp of Savannah
The meanest gal in town
Leather is tough, but Hannah's heart is tougher
She's a gal who loves to see men suffer
To tease them and thrill 'em
To torture and kill 'em
Is her delight they say
I saw her at the seashore with a great big pan
There was Hannah pourin' water on a drownin' man
She's hard hearted Hannah
The vamp of Savannah, G-A
The call her "hard hearted Hannah"
The vamp of Savannah
The meanest gal in town
Talk of your cold, refridgerating mamas
Brotha she's a polar bear's pajamas
To tease them and thrill 'em
To torture and kill 'em
Is her delight they say
An evening spent with Hannah sitting on your knees
Is like travelin' through Alaska in your BVDs
She's hard hearted Hannah
The vamp of Savannah, G-A
Can you imagine a woman as cold as Hannah?
She's got the right name "the vamp of Savannah"
Anytime a woman can take a great big pan
Start pourin' water on a drownin' man
She's hard hearted Hannah
The vamp of Savannah, G-A
Spoken: Ooh! She's sweet as sour milk.

song performed by Ella Fitzgerald
Added by Lucian Velea
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Me & Bobby Mcgee

(kristofferson/foster)
Busted flat in baton rouge
Headin for the train
Feelin nearly faded as my jeans
Bobby thumbed a diesel down
Just before it rained
Took us all the way to new orleans
I took my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna
I was blowin sad while bobby sang the blues
With them windshield wipers slappin time
And bobby clappin hands
We finally sang up every song that driver knew
Freedoms just another word for nothin left to lose
And nothin aint worth nothin but its free
Feelin good was easy, lord, when bobby sang the blues
Buddy, that was good enough for me
Good enough for me and bobby mcgee
From the coal mines of kentucky
To the california sun
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul
Standin right beside me
Through everything Ive done
And every night he kept me from the cold
Then somewhere near salinas
I let him slip away
Lookin for the home I hope hell find
And Ill trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday
Holdin bobbys body next to mine
Freedoms just another word for nothin left to lose
And nothin aint worth nothin but its free
Feelin good was easy, lord, when bobby sang the blues
Buddy, that was good enough for me
Good enough for me and bobby mcgee
Enough for me and bobby mcgee
Good enough for me and my bobby mcgee
I let him slip away
Lookin for the home I hope he finds
Enough for me and my bobby mcgee
Enough for me and my bobby mcgee, yeah

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love Tangle

(ronnie scott/steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: david mackay, ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Its a love tangle
Something we dont understand
More than a triangle
Billy, me, bobby and ann
We dont understand
Billy he loves me
But, I just dont love him
Cause I only love bobby
But bobby loves ann
Ann she loves billy
But his eyes are on me
But I only see bobby
But bobby loves ann
Weve got ourselves a love tangle
Something we dont understand
More than a triangle
Billy, me, bobby and ann
Looks like a love tangle
Something we dont understand
More than a triangle
Billy, me, bobby and ann
We dont understand
Like a love story
With the final page missing
Its a four-way heartbreaker
Cause bobby loves ann
Weve got ourselves a love tangle
Something we dont understand
More than a triangle
Billy, me, bobby and ann
Looks like a love tangle
Something we dont understand
More than a triangle
Billy, me, bobby and ann
We dont understand

song performed by Bonnie Tyler
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Perils of Invisibility

Old PETER led a wretched life -
Old PETER had a furious wife;
Old PETER too was truly stout,
He measured several yards about.

The little fairy PICKLEKIN
One summer afternoon looked in,
And said, "Old PETER, how de do?
Can I do anything for you?

"I have three gifts - the first will give
Unbounded riches while you live;
The second health where'er you be;
The third, invisibility."

"O little fairy PICKLEKIN,"
Old PETER answered with a grin,
"To hesitate would be absurd, -
Undoubtedly I choose the third."

"'Tis yours," the fairy said; "be quite
Invisible to mortal sight
Whene'er you please. Remember me
Most kindly, pray, to MRS. P."

Old MRS. PETER overheard
Wee PICKLEKIN'S concluding word,
And, jealous of her girlhood's choice,
Said, "That was some young woman's voice:

Old PETER let her scold and swear -
Old PETER, bless him, didn't care.
"My dear, your rage is wasted quite -
Observe, I disappear from sight!"

A well-bred fairy (so I've heard)
Is always faithful to her word:
Old PETER vanished like a shot,
Put then - HIS SUIT OF CLOTHES DID NOT!

For when conferred the fairy slim
Invisibility on HIM,
She popped away on fairy wings,
Without referring to his "things."

So there remained a coat of blue,
A vest and double eyeglass too,
His tail, his shoes, his socks as well,
His pair of - no, I must not tell.

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Bobby's Arms

(Dolly Parton)
Bobby's arms, they are warm when he holds me
Bobby's arms always comfort and console me
When I'm in his arms held tight
I know everything's alright
Just as long as I'm inside bobby's arms
Chorus:
Bobby's arms always welcome me inside
Bobby's arms always hold me when I cry
Bobby's arms are my shelter from life's storms
And I feel so safe in Bobby's arms
Bobby's arms, they are strong but they're tender
Bobby's arms reach for me and I surrender
When he reaches out for me, I'm never out of reach
And I always want to be in Bobby's arms
Repeat Chorus

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Me & Bobby Mcgee

Busted flat in baton rouge, waitin for a train,
Feeling nearly faded as my jeans,
Bobby flagged a diesel down, just before it rained,
Took us all the way to new orleans.
I took my harp on out of my dirty red bandanna,
I was blowin sad while bobby sang the blues,
With them windshield wipers slappin time, bobby clappin hands,
We sang every song that driver knew.
Freedoms just another word for nothin left to do.
Nothin aint worth nothin but its free.
Feelin good was easy lord, when bobby sang the blues.
Feelin good was good enough for me, good enough for me and bobby mcgee.
From the coal mines of kentucky to the california sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul,
Standing right beside me, lord, in everything I done,
Bobbys body kept me from the cold.
Then somewhere near salinas, lord, I let her slip away,
Lookin for that home, I hope she finds,
And Id trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday
Holding bobbys body close to mine.
Freedoms just another word for nothin left to lose.
Nothin was all she left for me.
Feelin good was easy lord, when bobby sang the blues.
Feelin good was good enough for me, good enough for me and bobby mcgee.
Freedoms just another word for nothin left to do.
Nothin aint worth nothin but its free.
Feelin good was easy lord, when bobby sang the blues.
Feelin good was good enough for me, good enough for me and bobby mcgee.

song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sing For The Day

Written by tommy shaw
Lead vocals by tommy shaw
Hannah youre with me in spirit wherever I go
To the ends of the earth and all points between high and low
Each night by the stage you appear as you are
The ever intangible child
Ageless and timeless as dorian grey
Oh hannah I know that its you and youre leading me on
Hannah youre my inspiration my fountain of youth
And as your surrogate leader Im bound in your searach for the truth
And yes how the truth rushes out
When its become honestly clear
I see your anxious and curious eyes
But hannah I need you as much as you think you need me
Come to your window tonight and well fly to your dreams
And well
Sing for the day sing for the moment
Sing for the time of your life
Come for an hour stay for a moment
Stay for the rest of your life
Hannah dont fail me I need you like never before
Father times at my back on my heels
Behind every door (and he says)
Son when the youth has but gone from your face
Will she let you grow older with grace?
Or will she give you up for one younger than you?
Oh hannah please tell me the things that he says are untrue
Hannah Im honestly hoping youll always be there
Sing for the day sing for the moment
Sing for the time of your life
Come for an hour stay for a moment
Stay for the rest of your life

song performed by Styx
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sing For The Day (Toyko 2000)

Tommy Shaw)
Hannah you're with me in spirit wherever I go
To the ends of the earth and all points between high and low
Each night by the stage you appear as you are
The ever intangible child
Ageless and timeless as Dorian Grey
Oh Hannah I know that it's you and you're leading me on
Hannah you're my inspiration my fountain of youth
And as your surrogate leader I'm bound in your searach for the truth
And yes how the truth rushes out
When it's become honestly clear
I see your anxious and curious eyes
But Hannah I need you as much as you think you need me
come to your window tonight and we'll fly to your dreams
And we'll
CHORUS
Sing for the day sing for the moment
Sing for the time of your life
Come for an hour stay for a moment
Stay for the rest of your life
Hannah don't fail me I need you like never before
Father time's at my back on my heels
Behind every door (and he says)
Son when the youth has but gone from your face
Will she give you up for one younger than you
Oh Hannah please tell me the things that he says are untrue
Hannah I'm honestly hoping you'll always be there
CHORUS
-------------------------------------------------------------

song performed by Styx
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Woman, No Cry

[wyclef] - (lauryn in parentheses)
...yo, steve marley throw on your father's old record...(yeah) - lauryn
Ha! classic material...refugee camp, hold tight! yes, yes!
Steve marley, come on! ah-ha! wyclef, ha-ha!
Feel the gong! heh-heh! yes, yes y'all! heh, come on!...yes, yes!
Feel the gong! (echo)
[steve marley - chorus] - {marley sisters background singing in brackets}
No woman, no cry (crowd cheers)
No woman, no cry! {no woman, no cry!}
No woman...
No, no woman!...no woman, no cry! {no woman, no cry!}
[steve marley - verse one] (wyclef in parentheses) {marley sisters in brackets}
You see...
Said i remember! oh, when we used to sit (where at?) - wyclef
In a government yard, in trenchtown {town!} - marley sisters
(and what did you used to see son?)
Well oh, i was observing, them hypocrites!
As they would... mingle with the good people we meet {meet!}
Yeah-yeah!
Good friends we have, and oh well!
Good friends we've lost! yeah-yeah!
Along...the way! {way!} yeah!
In this great future, yeah! you can't forget your past! say-yeah
Oh, dry your tears i say {say!}
[chorus 1x]
[wyclef] - (lauryn singing in parentheses) - {marley sisters in brackets}
Say! say! say! say!
I remember! when we used to sit! [where at son?]
Oh, in a project yard, in brooklyn! {lyn!} [oh, yeah right when i left haiti,
Ha]
And little georgie, would make the fire light! (i tell ya!)
As...stolen cars passed through the night {night!} [newark, new jersey, ah-ha!]
And then we'd hit, the corner store!
For roots, paper, and brew, wooh! {brew! whoo!}
My drinks, my only remedy! i tell ya! (sold out! sold out!)
For pain of losing, family...
But while i'm gone, sure thing...
[steve, lauryn, sharon, and pam singing] - (clef, eric, and ziggy chanting)
Everything's gonna be alright!! (oh! ah! oh-ah!)
Everything's gonna be alright! (oh! ah! oh-ah!)
Everything's gonna be alright!! (oh! ah! oh-ah!) (ho!)
Everything's gonna be alright! (oh! ah! oh-ah!) (ho!)
Everything's gonna be alright!! (oh! ah! oh-ah!) (ho!)
Everything's gonna be alright! (oh! ah! oh-ah!) (ho!)
Everything's gonna be alright!! (oh! ah! oh-ah!) (ho!)
Everything's gonna be alright! (oh! ah! oh-ah!) (ho!)
[steve marley]
...so, woman no cry!
No, no woman!...{no woman, no cry!}
[wyclef]

[...] Read more

song performed by Fugees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Etiquette

The BALLYSHANNON foundered off the coast of Cariboo,
And down in fathoms many went the captain and the crew;
Down went the owners - greedy men whom hope of gain allured:
Oh, dry the starting tear, for they were heavily insured.

Besides the captain and the mate, the owners and the crew,
The passengers were also drowned excepting only two:
Young PETER GRAY, who tasted teas for BAKER, CROOP, AND CO.,
And SOMERS, who from Eastern shores imported indigo.

These passengers, by reason of their clinging to a mast,
Upon a desert island were eventually cast.
They hunted for their meals, as ALEXANDER SELKIRK used,
But they couldn't chat together - they had not been introduced.

For PETER GRAY, and SOMERS too, though certainly in trade,
Were properly particular about the friends they made;
And somehow thus they settled it without a word of mouth -
That GRAY should take the northern half, while SOMERS took the south.

On PETER'S portion oysters grew - a delicacy rare,
But oysters were a delicacy PETER couldn't bear.
On SOMERS' side was turtle, on the shingle lying thick,
Which SOMERS couldn't eat, because it always made him sick.

GRAY gnashed his teeth with envy as he saw a mighty store
Of turtle unmolested on his fellow-creature's shore.
The oysters at his feet aside impatiently he shoved,
For turtle and his mother were the only things he loved.

And SOMERS sighed in sorrow as he settled in the south,
For the thought of PETER'S oysters brought the water to his mouth.
He longed to lay him down upon the shelly bed, and stuff:
He had often eaten oysters, but had never had enough.

How they wished an introduction to each other they had had
When on board the BALLYSHANNON! And it drove them nearly mad
To think how very friendly with each other they might get,
If it wasn't for the arbitrary rule of etiquette!

One day, when out a-hunting for the MUS RIDICULUS,
GRAY overheard his fellow-man soliloquizing thus:
"I wonder how the playmates of my youth are getting on,
M'CONNELL, S. B. WALTERS, PADDY BYLES, and ROBINSON?"

These simple words made PETER as delighted as could be,
Old chummies at the Charterhouse were ROBINSON and he!
He walked straight up to SOMERS, then he turned extremely red,
Hesitated, hummed and hawed a bit, then cleared his throat, and said:

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Added by Poetry Lover
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