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We Are Not Alone

We were lost in the valley
Midway between night and day
Which way's the goddamn highway??
"The car breaks down"
So, we walk ten million miles
All across some countryside
Until lightning struck the sky
"The rain came down"
Hey!
This house looks so creepy
Anybody home?
Look out! There's somebody!
We're not alone
Up three creaking wooden stairs
An old man with no hair...stares!
Sitting in a rocking chair
"Please be my guest"
He says I'm glad you are here
I have been waiting for years
You see, they land in my field

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song performed by Voivod
Added by Lucian Velea
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Now Halcyon Seas

Now halcyon seas, the Kingfisher Star, Alcyone.
No sign of ever having drowned here. Most
are as unaware of the sentient space they're immersed in
as a fish is of the water it wears like skin
or a bird of the air it plunges through. I was
given a brain. The universe was rolled up
into a ball of starmud, a planetesimal of my own,
that was meant to receive a lot more than it
could ever transmit. The way this bursting bubble
of a multiverse gets you to listen to it
once you get sick of listening to your own voice
trying to lift words and feelings like an ant
with a butterfly wing in its mandibles like a sail
that knows more about which way the wind is blowing
than it does. I may be only a whisper
of the shriek I used to be in a much denser medium
than this when I felt my lungs being crushed like bag-pipes
by the implosions of a black dwarf. Thirteen tons
per cubic centimetre of mass. Things weighed
heavily on me back then like basso-profundo bells

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poem by Patrick White
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A Death in the Bush

The hut was built of bark and shrunken slabs,
That wore the marks of many rains, and showed
Dry flaws wherein had crept and nestled rot.
Moreover, round the bases of the bark
Were left the tracks of flying forest fires,
As you may see them on the lower bole
Of every elder of the native woods.

For, ere the early settlers came and stocked
These wilds with sheep and kine, the grasses grew
So that they took the passing pilgrim in
And whelmed him, like a running sea, from sight.

And therefore, through the fiercer summer months,
While all the swamps were rotten; while the flats
Were baked and broken; when the clayey rifts
Yawned wide, half-choked with drifted herbage past,
Spontaneous flames would burst from thence and race
Across the prairies all day long.

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poem by Henry Kendall
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Better Than Anything

Music by David Wheat. Words by Bill Loughborough
Better than cream cheese and bagels
Better than honey on bread
Better than champagne and pretzels
Better than breakfast in bed
Better than chili rellenos
Better than chocolate e'clairs
Better than hothouse tomatoes
Better than fresh Bartlett pears
Better than dining a la carte
Or simply gastronomic art
Better than anything except being in love
Better than making a million
Better than being a queen
Better than oil wells and gold mines
Better than pastures of green
Better than finding a horseshoe
Better than losing your head
Better than anything ever thought of
Better than anything ever said

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song performed by Natalie Cole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wild Billys Circus Story

The machinist climbs his ferris wheel like a brave and the fire-eaters lyin in a pool of sweat victim of the heatwave,
Behind the tent the hired hand tightens his legs on the sword swallowers blade,
Circus towns on the shortwave
Well the runway lies ahead like a great false dawn,
Fat lady, big mama, missy bimbo sits in her chair and yawns,
And the man-beast lies in his cage sniffin popcorn and the midget licks his fingers and suffers missy bimbos scorn
Circus towns been born.
And a press roll drummer go, ballerina to-and-fro cartwheelin up on that tightrope,
With a cannon blast, lightin flash, movin fast through the tent, mars bent,
Hes gonna miss his fall, oh God save the human cannonball.
And the flying zambinis watch marguarita do her neck twist,
And the ringmaster gets the crowd to count along: 95, 96, 97.
A ragged suitcase in his hand, he steals silently away from the circus grounds,
And the highways haunted by the carnival sounds
They dance like a great greasepaint ghost on the wind,
A man in baggy pants, a lonely face, a crazy grin, runnin home to some small ohio town
Jesus, send some sweet women to save all your clowns
And circus boy dances like a monkey on barbed wire, and the barker romances with a junkie, shes got a flat tire,
And now the elephants dance real funky and the band plays like a jungle fire,
Circus towns on the live wire.

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song performed by Bruce Springsteen
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Dusty Old Fairgrounds

by Bob Dylan
Well, it's all up from Florida at the start of the spring,
The trucks and the trailers will be winding
Like a bullet we'll shoot for the carnival route.
We're following them dusty old fairgrounds a-calling.
From the Michigan mud past the Wisconsin sun
'Cross that Minnesota border, keep 'em scrambling
Through the clear county lakes and the lumberjack lands,
We're following them dusty old fairgrounds a-calling.
Hit Fargo on the jump and down to Aberdeen
'Cross them old Black Hills, keep 'em rolling
Through the cow country towns and the sands of old Montana.
We're following them fairgrounds a-calling.
As the white line on the highway sails under your wheels,
I've gazed from the trailer window laughing.
Oh, our clothes they was torn but the colors they was bright.
Following them dusty old fairgrounds a-calling.
It's a-many a friend that follows the bend,
The jugglers, the hustlers, the gamblers.
Well, I've spent my time with the fortune-telling kind

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song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Prophecy Of St. Oran: Part III

I.
'A CURSE is on this work!' Columba cried;
And with their dark robes flapping in the gale,
The frightened monks came hurrying to his side,
And looked at one another turning pale;
For every night the work done in the day
Strewn on the ground in wild confusion lay.

II.
'A curse is on this work!' he cried again
As his keen glances swept each face in turn:
'Behold, God smites us in the hurricane,
And in the lightning doth His anger burn.
Brethren, some secret deadly sin there is
Known to the Lord for which we suffer this.

III.
'Why is it that the elements combine

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poem by Mathilde Blind
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Snake

INTRO
I wanna see you move your body like a snake
Yeah hey yo, can yall hear me out there, alright
Now this is what I wanna see
I want to see all the little ladies line up right herenow
CHORUS
Move your body like a snake ma (like that)
Shake it til it wanna break ma(like that)
Dont hold back let it go now (like that)
Let your money maker jump now (like that)
Let me see you go low now (like that)
Bring it up and let it roll now (like that)
I love the way you work your chocha (like that)
Make me wanna get to know ya (like that)
VERSE
Im lovin the way you move so sexy
Momma youre bringin me to my knees
Hands in the air like you came to party
Shakin that __ makin the whole club freeze
Get down , get down

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song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Princes' Quest - Part the Ninth

And passing through the city he went out
Into the fat fields lying thereabout,
And lo the spirit of the emerald stone
With secret influence to himself unknown
Guided the wandering of his errant feet,
The servants of the errant soul; and sweet
The meadows were, with babble of birds, and noise
Of brooks, the water's voice and the wind's voice.
Howbeit he gave small heed to any of them;
And now the subtile spirit of the gem
Led him along a winding way that ran
Beyond the fields to where the woods began
To spread green matwork for the mountains' feet;
A region where the Silence had her seat
And hearkened to the sounds that only she
Can hear-the fall of dew on herb and tree;
The voice of the growing of the grass; the night
Down-fluttering breathless from the heaven's height;
And autumn whispering unawares at times
Strange secrets and dark sayings, wrapt in rhymes

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poem by William Watson
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Œnone

. There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier
Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.
The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen,
Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to pine,
And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand
The lawns and meadow-ledges midway down
Hang rich in flowers, and far below them roars
The long brook falling thro' the clov'n ravine
In cataract after cataract to the sea.
Behind the valley topmost Gargarus
Stands up and takes the morning: but in front
The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal
Troas and Ilion's column'd citadel,
The crown of Troas. Hither came at noon
Mournful Œnone, wandering forlorn
Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills.
Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her neck
Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest.
She, leaning on a fragment twined with vine,
Sang to the stillness, till the mountain-shade

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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