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The Haunted House

Oh, very gloomy is the house of woe,
Where tears are falling while the bell is knelling,
With all the dark solemnities that show
That Death is in the dwelling!

Oh, very, very dreary is the room
Where Love, domestic Love, no longer nestles,
But smitten by the common stroke of doom,
The corpse lies on the trestles!

But house of woe, and hearse, and sable pall,
The narrow home of the departed mortal,
Ne’er looked so gloomy as that Ghostly Hall,
With its deserted portal!

The centipede along the threshold crept,
The cobweb hung across in mazy tangle,
And in its winding sheet the maggot slept
At every nook and angle.

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poem by Thomas Hood
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Your Sister

Thieves, and pain, and nauseating pills
Lies, and nails, and nauseating pills
Why am I so hung up on your sister?
Why am I so hung up on you mom?
I thought that I would never even miss her
I thought that I would never use the bong
And I never cry like that
And I never swear like that
And I never lose my mind
Thieves, and pain, and dragon colored tears
Still, remain and cover up the years
Why am I so hung up on your sister?
Why am I so hung up on you mom?
I thought that I would never even miss her
I thought that I would never use the bong
And I never cry like that
And I never swear like that
And I never lose my mind
Why am I so hung up on your sister?
Why am I so hung up on you mom?

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song performed by Weezer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Spirits Of Ancient Egypt

Youre my baby and I love you
You can take a pound of love
And cook it in the stew . . . . .
When youve finished doing that
I know what youll want to do
cos youre my baby and I love you
Im your baby -- do you love me?
I can drive a cadillac
Across the irish sea
But when Ive finished doing that
I know where Ill want to be
cos Im your baby, and you love me.
Spirits of ancient egypt
Shadows of ancient rome
Spirits of ancient egypt
Hung on the telly
Hung on the telly
Hung on the telephone . . . .
Youre my baby, I know you know
You could sell an elevator

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song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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Unsatisfaction

I'm never satisfied when the answers could be real
I may not know what's right but I know this can't be it
And once life and twice life three times you hung me from within
A one time two times thrice life you'd almost done me in
I may not know what's right but I know this can't be it
I'm never satisfied when the answers could be real
And once life and twice life three times you hung me from within
A one time two times thrice life you'd almost done me in
Life falls down I rest my case I die, I die, I die, I die!
And once life twice life and three times you hung me from within
A one time two times thrice life you'd almost done me in
A once life twice life and three times you hung me from within
A one time, two times, thrice life you'd almost done me in
Life falls down I rest my case I die, I die, I die, I die!
I'm never satisfied when the answers could be real
I may not know what's right but I know this can't be it
I'm never satisfied when the answers could be real
I may not know what's right but I know this can't be it
And once life twice life you hung me from within
A one time two times you'd almost done me in

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song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rose Mary

Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone
Lost the first, but the second won.

PART I

“MARY mine that art Mary's Rose
Come in to me from the garden-close.
The sun sinks fast with the rising dew,
And we marked not how the faint moon grew;
But the hidden stars are calling you.
“Tall Rose Mary, come to my side,
And read the stars if you'd be a bride.
In hours whose need was not your own,
While you were a young maid yet ungrown
You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.
“Daughter, once more I bid you read;
But now let it be for your own need:
Because to-morrow, at break of day,
To Holy Cross he rides on his way,
Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.

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poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Forest Sanctuary - Part I.

I.
The voices of my home!-I hear them still!
They have been with me through the dreamy night-
The blessed household voices, wont to fill
My heart's clear depths with unalloy'd delight!
I hear them still, unchang'd:-though some from earth
Are music parted, and the tones of mirth-
Wild, silvery tones, that rang through days more bright!
Have died in others,-yet to me they come,
Singing of boyhood back-the voices of my home!

II.
They call me through this hush of woods, reposing
In the grey stillness of the summer morn,
They wander by when heavy flowers are closing,
And thoughts grow deep, and winds and stars are born;
Ev'n as a fount's remember'd gushings burst
On the parch'd traveller in his hour of thirst,
E'en thus they haunt me with sweet sounds, till worn
By quenchless longings, to my soul I say-

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poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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The Troubadour. Canto 2

THE first, the very first; oh! none
Can feel again as they have done;
In love, in war, in pride, in all
The planets of life's coronal,
However beautiful or bright,--
What can be like their first sweet light?

When will the youth feel as he felt,
When first at beauty's feet he knelt?

As if her least smile could confer
A kingdom on its worshipper;
Or ever care, or ever fear
Had cross'd love's morning hemisphere.
And the young bard, the first time praise
Sheds its spring sunlight o'er his lays,
Though loftier laurel, higher name,
May crown the minstrel's noontide fame,
They will not bring the deep content
Of his lure's first encouragement.

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poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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The Loves of the Angels

'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.

Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall

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poem by Thomas Moore
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You Hung Me

It's dead, it'd dead you killed it all
you fucked me over, you watched me fall
the life you sucked right out of me
dead you hung me from tree.

My blood spills out onto the ground
it screams, it cries without a sound
there is no victory here for me
dead you hung me from a tree.

You can run but you can't hide
you'll try to say it's suicide
torn apart for all to see
dead you hung me from a tree.

I'll prove to you your world is wrong
your power has gone on way to long
watch my body swing so free
dead you hung me from a tree.

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poem by CJA Anderson
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Kooks

Will you stay in our lovers story
If you stay you wont be sorry
cause we believe in you
Soon youll grow so take a chance
With a couple of kooks
Hung up on romancing
Will you stay in our lovers story
If you stay you wont be sorry
cause we believe in you
Soon youll grow so take a chance
With a couple of kooks
Hung up on romancing
We bought a lot of things to keep you warm and dry
And a funny old crib on which the paint wont dry
I bought you a pair of shoes
A trumpet you can blow
And a book of rules
On what to say to people when they pick on you
cause if you stay with us youre gonna be pretty kookie too
Will you stay in my lovers story

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song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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