Land Of A Million Drums
[Chorus]
In the land of a million drums
there is always something going on, on, on, on
If you can't locate your thought off
might as well go on take your dead home, home, home, home
[Big Boi]
In the land of a million drums
I catch a pattern that spit rings around you like Saturn
Intergalatic tracks I make 'em like magstrulium
This one for scooby, pass the doobie imma do me one, do me one
Only you clean over
I pick up the mic and rock it while I'm sober
For the rated G exposure if you listen what I'm tryin to told ya
We fathers with seeds of our own
We're talkin about sons and daughters boy, not roots and clones
Now that the theory gone wrong
An embryo with no soul
Stuck in this green mini-van with my lungs in a chokehold
Shaggy pass the boombastic
Daphne said don't do that
Freaky Fred smashed the gas and slammed us into traffic
Now Scrappy wanna box and throw them bows
so I had to sic the pitbull on him before he could pass one blow
Scooby-doo, scooby-doo, scooby damn doo, scooby doo (Scooby doobie doo)
[Chorus]
[Killer Mike]
Woke up from a long night of hanging out with Shaggy
Oh no, lost my last baggy of scoobie snackies
Shaggy wake up, we've been had
Our scooby snacks they got the whole stash
He said, who who, I don't have a clue
I suspect the thirteen ghosts of Scoobie Doo
Call Vincent Price up on the Nextel
Tell him to send another package right through the mail
In the meantime, I'mma call Thelma to tell her
To get the Mystery Machine ready
I'm two-wayin Daphne and Freddy
Me and Shaggy dressed in all black, strapped
Dippin through the flash tryin to get our stash back
Roundin up suspects, collection' clues
I got a question, where the hell is Scooby Doo when you need em?
The hound's only found when you feed him
In fact he probably got my sack
Tell him holler back
[Chorus]
[Andre 3000]
Break it down, break it down baby 'til the flow jumps off the ground
Ooo break it down lookin' over yonder til the walls come tumblin down
Ooo, yes lord y'ain't gotta tell me two times but you know I know
Ooo, break it down, break it down baby 'cuz I want y'all all to know
[...] Read more
song performed by Outkast
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Hyperion
BOOK I
DEEP in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair;
Forest on forest hung above his head
Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
Not so much life as on a summer's day
Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,
But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more
By reason of his fallen divinity
Spreading a shade: the Naiad 'mid her reeds
Press'd her cold finger closer to her lips.
Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,
No further than to where his feet had stray'd,
And slept there since. Upon the sodden ground
His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead,
Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed;
While his bow'd head seem'd list'ning to the Earth,
His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.
It seem'd no force could wake him from his place;
But there came one, who with a kindred hand
Touch'd his wide shoulders, after bending low
With reverence, though to one who knew it not.
She was a Goddess of the infant world;
By her in stature the tall Amazon
Had stood a pigmy's height: she would have ta'en
Achilles by the hair and bent his neck;
Or with a finger stay'd Ixion's wheel.
Her face was large as that of Memphian sphinx,
Pedestal'd haply in a palace court,
When sages look'd to Egypt for their lore.
But oh! how unlike marble was that face:
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
There was a listening fear in her regard,
As if calamity had but begun;
As if the vanward clouds of evil days
Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear
Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
One hand she press'd upon that aching spot
Where beats the human heart, as if just there,
Though an immortal, she felt cruel pain:
The other upon Saturn's bended neck
She laid, and to the level of his ear
Leaning with parted lips, some words she spake
[...] Read more
poem by John Keats
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See also quotes about falling leaves, quotes about robbery, quotes about frontiers, quotes about elephants, quotes about tigers, quotes about eclipse, or quotes about diamonds
Floobie Doobie Doo
As I walk down to Bishop Street I met a girl who smiled so sweet
Now she was young and pretty too
And on a string she walked with a thing called the Floobie Doobie Doo
Oh the Floobie Doobie Doo now what is that it ain't no dog and it ain't no cat
It's not the doll with eyes of blue
I never seen such a thing as thing called the Floobie Doobie Doo
It had one tooth five purple toes sixteen elbows and a twelve-foot nose
You never see one in the Zoo
I mean a thing like a thing on a string called the Floobie Doobie Doo
I told that girl lemme take you home and maybe we can be alone hahaha
She said I'd love to go home with you
But I have to cling to my thing on the string called the Floobie Doobie Doo
Well I took her home that very night we talked a while and I dimmed the light
She cuddled close and the next thing I knew
Just as soon as it seen us in between us jumped the Floobie Doobie Doo
It stayed all night it stayed all year I never got to hold you near
I said sweet baby I wanna cling to you
But she wanna cling to the thing on the string called the Floobie Doobie Doo
Oh the Floobie Doobie Doo oh now what is that
It ain't no dog it ain't no cow it ain't no cat
It's not the doll with eyes of blue
You just can't swing with the thing on the string called the Floobie Doobie Doo
Well she cried and cried she wiped her eye she said farewell so long goodbye
For though I loved you yes I do
I can't reveal the love that I feel for the Floobie Doobie Doo
I never see her anymore she never knocks upon my door
And every night alone and blue
I sit and swing about a swing on a thing
I mean I sit and think about a swing on a thing
I mean I sit and sing about a thing on a string called the Floobie Doobie Doo oooh
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Good Thing
The one good thing
In my life
Has gone away
I dont know why
Shes gone away
I dont know where
Somewhere I cant follow her
The one good thing didnt stay too long
Woo who who who
My back was turned and she was gone
Hey hey hey
Good thing
Where have you gone
Doo doo doobie doo
My good thing
Youve been gone too long
Good thing
Doo doo doobie doo
People say I should forget
Theres plenty more dont get upset
Dont get upset
People say shes doing fine
Mutual friends I see sometime
Thats not what I want to hear
Woo who who who
I want to hear she wants me near
Good thing
Where have you gone
Doo doo doobie doo
My good thing
Youve been gone too long
Good thing
Doo doo doobie doo
Good thing
Then one day
She came back
I was so happy that I didnt ask
Morning came
Hey hey hey hey
Into my room
Woo who who who
Caught me dreaming like a fool
Good thing
My good thing
Doo doo doobie doo
My my my my good thing
Where have you gone
Good thing
Doo doo doobie doo
My good thing
[...] Read more
song performed by Fine Young Cannibals
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Tonights The Night
Well tonight's the night I'm gonna get right
Gonna hit the scene with my friends
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Tonight's the night Imma do what I gotta do to get out of here
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Bought myself a quick, cheap ticket, looking for a brand new scene
Gotta get the hell outta Hollwyood cause everything is halloween
Hit the town brass knuckles, make all the good people stare
I hope I don't end up in jail, but then again I don't realy care
Tonight's the night I'm going to get right
Gonna hit the scene with my friends
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Tonight's the night Imma do what I gotta do to get out of here
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Think it's time to have some fun, but what am I gonna wear
And where are we gonna go, and who's gonna do my hair
Got these hotass boots, but ain't got nothin to do
Somebody better give me some gas money, we're sitting here like fools
Tonight's the night I'm gonna get right
Gonna hit the scene with my friends
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Tonight's the night Imma do what I gotta do to get outta here
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
I'm leaving today, I'm going far, far, far away
Got no reason to stay cause I don't wanna play
So can you hang, it's gonna be all night
Tonight's the night I'm gonna get right
Gonna hit the scene with my friends
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Tonight's the night Imma do what I gotta do to get outta here
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Bought myself a quick, cheap ticket, lookin for a brand new scene
Gotta get the hell outta Hollywood cause every day is halloween
Hit the town with brass knuckles, all the good people stare
I hope I don't end up in jail, but then again I don't really care
Tonight's the night I'm gonna get right
Gonna hit the scene with my friends
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
Tonight's the night Imma do what I gotta do to get outta here
Tonight's the night Imma feel alright, feel alright again
song performed by Pink
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hyperion. Book I
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair;
Forest on forest hung above his head
Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
Not so much life as on a summer's day
Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,
But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more
By reason of his fallen divinity
Spreading a shade: the Naiad 'mid her reeds
Press'd her cold finger closer to her lips.
Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,
No further than to where his feet had stray'd,
And slept there since. Upon the sodden ground
His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead,
Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed;
While his bow'd head seem'd list'ning to the Earth,
His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.
It seem'd no force could wake him from his place;
But there came one, who with a kindred hand
Touch'd his wide shoulders, after bending low
With reverence, though to one who knew it not.
She was a Goddess of the infant world;
By her in stature the tall Amazon
Had stood a pigmy's height: she would have ta'en
Achilles by the hair and bent his neck;
Or with a finger stay'd Ixion's wheel.
Her face was large as that of Memphian sphinx,
Pedestal'd haply in a palace court,
When sages look'd to Egypt for their lore.
But oh! how unlike marble was that face:
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
There was a listening fear in her regard,
As if calamity had but begun;
As if the vanward clouds of evil days
Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear
Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
One hand she press'd upon that aching spot
Where beats the human heart, as if just there,
Though an immortal, she felt cruel pain:
The other upon Saturn's bended neck
She laid, and to the level of his ear
Leaning with parted lips, some words she spake
In solemn tenor and deep organ tone:
[...] Read more
poem by John Keats
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Stop Dead
Stop!
Stop!
Stop dead,
Stop stop stop stop stop stop
I pulled up at a west end junction (seeker of attention)
A full body kit and bass bins pumping (size up competition)
Come on red light, get into green,
I hit the brake, I must be dreaming..
Im stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose you, from my sight
Where ya going to?
Gotta know now..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose, you from my sight
Where ya going to?
Oh-oh-oh
Ive got my eyes on the action (killer reputation)
Heat crazed in full satisfaction (become a phaser? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Body in motion, now you see me
(chorus)
Gotta know know.. stop!
Come on now, come on now
Come on now, come on now
Wise up to remain young victim (come on, ways of attraction)
A full scale attack on the system (come on, no one visor? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Im into red line territory
And im..
(chorus)
Stop!, dead in my tracks again,
Im stop dead in my tracks
Stop!, in my tracks (yeah)
Im stop dead in my tracks
(oh-oh) gotta know know..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
song performed by Duran Duran
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Hyperion. Book II
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place
Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.
It was a den where no insulting light
Could glimmer on their tears; where their own groans
They felt, but heard not, for the solid roar
Of thunderous waterfalls and torrents hoarse,
Pouring a constant bulk, uncertain where.
Crag jutting forth to crag, and rocks that seem'd
Ever as if just rising from a sleep,
Forehead to forehead held their monstrous horns;
And thus in thousand hugest phantasies
Made a fit roofing to this nest of woe.
Instead of thrones, hard flint they sat upon,
Couches of rugged stone, and slaty ridge
Stubborn'd with iron. All were not assembled:
Some chain'd in torture, and some wandering.
Caus, and Gyges, and Briareus,
Typhon, and Dolor, and Porphyrion,
With many more, the brawniest in assault,
Were pent in regions of laborious breath;
Dungeon'd in opaque element, to keep
Their clenched teeth still clench'd, and all their limbs
Lock'd up like veins of metal, crampt and screw'd;
Without a motion, save of their big hearts
Heaving in pain, and horribly convuls'd
With sanguine feverous boiling gurge of pulse.
Mnemosyne was straying in the world;
Far from her moon had Phoebe wandered;
And many else were free to roam abroad,
But for the main, here found they covert drear.
Scarce images of life, one here, one there,
Lay vast and edgeways; like a dismal cirque
Of Druid stones, upon a forlorn moor,
When the chill rain begins at shut of eve,
In dull November, and their chancel vault,
The Heaven itself, is blinded throughout night.
Each one kept shroud, nor to his neighbour gave
Or word, or look, or action of despair.
Creus was one; his ponderous iron mace
Lay by him, and a shatter'd rib of rock
Told of his rage, ere he thus sank and pined.
Iapetus another; in his grasp,
A serpent's plashy neck; its barbed tongue
Squeez'd from the gorge, and all its uncurl'd length
Dead: and because the creature could not spit
Its poison in the eyes of conquering Jove.
Next Cottus: prone he lay, chin uppermost,
As though in pain; for still upon the flint
[...] Read more
poem by John Keats
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The Drums of Battersea
They can’t hear in West o’ London, where the worst dine with the best—
Deaf to all save lies and laughter, they can’t hear in London West—
Tailored brutes and splendid harlots, and the parasites that be—
They can’t hear the warning thunder of the Drums of Battersea.
More drums! War drums!
Drums of Misery—
Beating from the hearts of men—the Drums of Battersea.
Where the hearses hurry ever, and where man lives like a beast,
They can feel the war-drums beating—men of Hell! and London East.
And the far-off foreign farmers, fighting fiercely to be free,
Found new courage in the echo of the Drums of Battersea.
More drums! War drums!
Beating for the free—
Beating on the hearts of men—the Drums of Battersea.
And the drummers! Ah! the drummers!—stern and haggard men are those
Standing grimly at their meetings; and their washed and mended clothes
Speak of worn-out wives behind them and of grinding poverty—
But the English of the English beat the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of agony—
The big bruised heart of England’s in the Drums of Battersea.
Where in fields slave Englishwomen, Oh! the sound of drums is there:
I have heard it in the laughter of the nights of Leicester Square—
Sailing southward with the summer, London but a dream to me,
Still I feel the distant thunder of the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of Liberty—
Rolling round the English world—the Drums of Battersea.
Oh! I heard them in the Queen’s Hall—aye! and London heard that night—
While we formed up round the leaders while they struck one blow for right!
And the old strength, that old fire, that I thought was dead in me,
Blazed up fiercely at the beating of the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
They beat for victory—
When above the roar of Jingoes rolled the Drums of Battersea.
And where’er my feet may wander, and howe’er I lay my head,
I shall hear them while I’m dreaming—I shall hear them when I’m dead!
For they beat for men and women, beat for Christ, and you and me:
There is hope and there is terror in the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of destiny—
There’s hope!—there’s hope for England in the Drums of Battersea.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere
The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind breathes from a chillier clime;—
That forth I fared, on one of those still eves,
Touch'd with the dewy sadness of the time,
To think how the bright months had spent their prime,
II
So that, wherever I address'd my way,
I seem'd to track the melancholy feet
Of him that is the Father of Decay,
And spoils at once the sour weed and the sweet;—
Wherefore regretfully I made retreat
To some unwasted regions of my brain,
Charm'd with the light of summer and the heat,
And bade that bounteous season bloom again,
And sprout fresh flowers in mine own domain.
III
It was a shady and sequester'd scene,
Like those famed gardens of Boccaccio,
Planted with his own laurels evergreen,
And roses that for endless summer blow;
And there were fountain springs to overflow
Their marble basins,—and cool green arcades
Of tall o'erarching sycamores, to throw
Athwart the dappled path their dancing shades,—
With timid coneys cropping the green blades.
IV
And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish,
Argent and gold; and some of Tyrian skin,
Some crimson-barr'd;—and ever at a wish
They rose obsequious till the wave grew thin
As glass upon their backs, and then dived in,
Quenching their ardent scales in watery gloom;
Whilst others with fresh hues row'd forth to win
My changeable regard,—for so we doom
Things born of thought to vanish or to bloom.
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Hood
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Also see the following:
- quotes about pranks
- quotes about carols
- quotes about squirrels
- quotes about Olympics
- quotes about pink
- quotes about puppetry
- quotes about monuments
- quotes about midsummer
- quotes about violet
Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by Lou Reed
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Kids To-day
Scooby doo boop.
Scooby doo boop bee doop.
Scooby doo boop.
Scooby doo boop bee doop.
The kids to-day,
All they want to do is...
Bang and clang,
On 'thangs'.
All they want to do is...
Rap and rock
And text,
Nonstop.
As if...
They are computerized.
The kids to-day,
All they want to do is...
Bling their things.
And,
All they want to do is...
Chat about this,
And that...
And where they're at.
And who...
They wish and want to be.
They bore real easy with bright minds speeding,
To the next thing to be done.
They want life breezy as if changing winds...
To satisfy their whims,
About what it is if it's near and appears.
The kids to-day,
All they want to do is...
Bang and clang,
On 'thangs'.
All they want to do is...
Rap and rock.
And text,
Nonstop.
As if...
They are computerized.
The kids...
To-day.
Scooby doo boop.
Scooby doo boop bee doop.
Our kids today.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Cyclops
SILENUS:
O Bacchus, what a world of toil, both now
And ere these limbs were overworn with age,
Have I endured for thee! First, when thou fled’st
The mountain-nymphs who nursed thee, driven afar
By the strange madness Juno sent upon thee;
Then in the battle of the Sons of Earth,
When I stood foot by foot close to thy side,
No unpropitious fellow-combatant,
And, driving through his shield my winged spear,
Slew vast Enceladus. Consider now,
Is it a dream of which I speak to thee?
By Jove it is not, for you have the trophies!
And now I suffer more than all before.
For when I heard that Juno had devised
A tedious voyage for you, I put to sea
With all my children quaint in search of you,
And I myself stood on the beaked prow
And fixed the naked mast; and all my boys
Leaning upon their oars, with splash and strain
Made white with foam the green and purple sea,--
And so we sought you, king. We were sailing
Near Malea, when an eastern wind arose,
And drove us to this waste Aetnean rock;
The one-eyed children of the Ocean God,
The man-destroying Cyclopses, inhabit,
On this wild shore, their solitary caves,
And one of these, named Polypheme. has caught us
To be his slaves; and so, for all delight
Of Bacchic sports, sweet dance and melody,
We keep this lawless giant’s wandering flocks.
My sons indeed on far declivities,
Young things themselves, tend on the youngling sheep,
But I remain to fill the water-casks,
Or sweeping the hard floor, or ministering
Some impious and abominable meal
To the fell Cyclops. I am wearied of it!
And now I must scrape up the littered floor
With this great iron rake, so to receive
My absent master and his evening sheep
In a cave neat and clean. Even now I see
My children tending the flocks hitherward.
Ha! what is this? are your Sicinnian measures
Even now the same, as when with dance and song
You brought young Bacchus to Althaea’s halls?
CHORUS OF SATYRS:
STROPHE:
Where has he of race divine
[...] Read more
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Spit It Out
(coverdale/galley)
I never knew what a kiss could mean
Until the first time I kissed you,
You took my love in the palm of your hand
An showed me what a woman could do
Now I dont want sugar coated loving
Just silver tongue tenderness,
You gotta give me a certain satisfaction
The kind of love you seal with a kiss
An spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
I can remember, I can recall
When I first set my eyes on you,
Ill never forget the thrill of it all
Dreaming of the things we could do
Baby, you must be crazy,
Fooling with a man like me,
cos I roll my dice with a heart of ice
An make it clear to see
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
I never knew what a kiss could mean
til the first time I kissed you,
You took my love in the palm of your hand
An showed me what a woman could do
Your sweet caress an tenderness
Can take the pain away,
The things that you do make a queen out of you
An make me a king for a day
If you dont like it, spit it out
Now I know what your love can do
Ill be hanging round your door,
An Im gonna love you baby,
Ill give you more than you bargained for
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, if you dont like it...
song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Dip It Low Ft. Shawnna
(Shawnna)
Uh, Uh
Uh, Uh, Shawnna (Yeah)
Uh, Uh, Christina
Look
I got some game for you Chickens
Listen a minute, please
'Case you be stuck with them (Shhh)
Hit you up then they leave
You gotta stop for a minute
Watch for a minute, breathe
Take you a squat for a minute
Listen to what I speak
I'm tryin to keep it real
Not tryina make a scene
You tryina keep your man
You gotta make him scream
You gotta put it down
Drop it and dip it low
Wind it around a while
Stop 'n now let it go
(Christina)
Says he wants you
He says he needs you
It's real talking when I make him wait for you
If he really wants you
If he really needs you
Really got to have you
Take your time and feel him out
When it's a good boy
I mean a really really good boy
Why not let him lay with you?
That's when you give it to him good
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out, Let your back roll
Pop t'pop t'pop that thing
Imma show you how to make your man say "Ohh"
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out, Let your back roll
Pop t'pop t'pop that thing
Imma show you how to make your man say "Ohh"
You getting warm
He growin' cold
It's just the symptoms of young love
Growin' old
You think it's time
[...] Read more
song performed by Christina Milian
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Healthy Back Bag
animated bag of chips
amor dive bag
american eagle outfitters bags
ambag poly bags wholesale
american airlines bag limits
american beauty plastic bag theme mp3
amf bowling bag
aluminum tab weave bag
ampac tote bags
american trails atv bag
american tourister bonneville ii garment bag
alt ieri bassoon bag
almond flavored tea bags
ameribag shoulder bags
a mco saddel bags 1977
an enema bag for men
amulet bag book
analyse art falconers bag
amy butler sweet life bag
alto sax bag
alpha kappa alpha diva tote bag
amylou bag in eureka ca
ani hand bags
american west rodeo bags
amex insurance for delayed bags
an interchangeable foundation bag
al verio martini bags
animal bag mp3
american trail ventures atv cargo bags
aluminium coated plastic bags
amy butlet runaway bag pattern
angel bag
animae bop bag
allowed to carry on garment bag
a nimal bag print tote
an imal overnight bag
aloksak bags
amz bag fun src
ameribag microfiber bag
american tourister laptop bag
allied waste service blue bags
american indian medicine bags
alternative to plastic trash bags
amish buggy bag
alpha poly bag
ammo shoulder bag
american sign language tote bags
animated gif people with hand bags
amazing bag grace pipe
altieri bags
[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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My Humps
(trumpets)
*sighs*
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk?
Imma get-get-get-get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump my hump, my hump my hump my hump.
My hump my hump my hump. My lovely little lumps.
Check it out
I drive these brothers crazy; I do it on the day
Look, they treat me really nicely; they buy me all these ices:
Dolce and Gabbana, Vinny and Nedonna.
Caring, they be sharing all their money, got me wearing fly
Brother I aint asking, they say they love my ass and
Seven jeans to religion, I say no but they keep giving
So I keep on taking, and no I aint taking,
We can keep on dating, I keep on demonstrating my love.
My love my love my love. You love my lady lumps.
My hump my hump my hump. My humps, they got you
Shes got me spending(ooh)
Spending all your money on me, and spending time on me [x2]
On, on me, on me.
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?
Imma get-get-get-get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon do with all that ass, all that ass inside them jeans?
Imma make-make-make-make you scream, make you scream make you scream!
Cuz of my hump, my hump my hump my hump,
My hump my hump my hump, my lovely lady lumps.
Check it out
I met a girl down at the disco, she said:
Hey, hey-hey yeh lets go. I could be your baby; you could be my honey, lets spend time, not money and:
Mix your milk with my cocoa, puh - milky, milky cocoa, mix your milk with my cocoa, huh - milky, milky right
They say Im really sexy. Them boys, they wanna sex me,
They always standing next to me, always dancing next to me.
Trying to feel my hump, hump, looking at my lump, lump,
You can look but you cant touch it, if you touch it
Imma start some drama, you dont want no drama.
Nono drama, nononono drama.
So dont pull on my hand boy, you aint my man boy
Im just trying to dance boy, and move my hump, my hump,
My hump my hump my hump, my hump my hump my hump,
My hump my hump my hump, my lovely lady lumps,
My lovely lady lumps, my lovely lady lumps,
In the back and in the front, my loving got you
Shes got me spending(ooh)
Spending all your money on me, and spending time on me [x2]
On, on me, on me.
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?
Imma get-get-get-get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon do with all that ass, all that ass inside them jeans?
Imma make-make-make-make you scream, make you scream make you scream!
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?
[...] Read more
song performed by Black Eyed Peas
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Saturn
Packing my bags -- going away
To a place where the air is clean
On saturn
Theres no sense to sit and watch people die
We dont fight our wars the way you do
We put back all the things we use
On saturn
Theres no sense to keep on doing such crimes
Theres no principles in what you say
No direction in the things you do
For your world is soon to come to a close
Through the ages all great men have taught
Truth and happiness just cant be bought - or sold
Tell me why are you people so cold
Im....
Going back to saturn where the rings all glow
Rainbow, moonbeams and orange snow
On saturn
People live to be two hundred and five
Going back to saturn where the people smile
Dont need cars cause weve learned to fly
On saturn
Just to live to us is our natural high
We have come here many times before
To find your strategy to peace is war
Killing helpless men, women and children
That dont even know what theyre dying for
We cant trust you when you take a stand
With a gun and Bible in your hand
And the cold expression on your face
Saying give us what we want or well destroy
Im....
Going back to saturn where the rings all glow
Rainbow, moonbeams and orange snow
On saturn
People live to be two hundred and five
Going back to saturn where the people smile
Dont need cars cause weve learned to fly
On saturn
Just to live to us is our natural high
song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy
I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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