Quotes about island, page 9
Burning Down
]from the back of my neck, oh oh oh
Wired a glass jaw, oh oh
Plantation burning your boat is coming in
Strum your jews-harp, youre reeking gin
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Johnny mike is reading in the yard
His storys timely, oh oh oh
What river is it anyway, radio
Not in a boat, in your ear
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
You pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
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song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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There's Something Sexy About The Rain
She spread her arms and spun around
In a summer island storm
In a field of sugarcane
She taught me how and showed me why
There's something sexy about the rain
And sometimes it rained all night
And everything she did was perfect
And every way we were was right
We loved like there was no tomorrow
Then suddenly tomorrow came
And it was raining at the airport
And kept on raining on the plane
She only loved me for a season
But my heart won't ever be the same
Even now her love's the reason
There's something sexy about the rain
And sometimes when it's pouring down
I feel her kisses on my skin
I spread my arms and spin around
And let that summer island storm
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song performed by Kenny Chesney
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Are Going To Ibiza
Hello Party People!
This Is Captain Kim Speaking
Welcome Aboard Venga Airways
After Take Off Will Pump Up The Soundsystem
Cause We're Going To Ibiza!
I Don't Wanna Be A Busdriver
All My Life
I'm Gonna Pack My Bags And Leave This Town
Grab A Flight
Fly Away On Venga Airways
Fly Me High
Ibiza Sky
I Look Up At The Sky
And I See The Clouds
I Looked Down At The Ground
And I See The Rainbow Down The Drain
Fly Away On Venga Airways
Fly Me High
Ibiza Sky
Whoah! We're Going To Ibiza
[...] Read more
song performed by Vengaboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Are Going To Ibiza
Hello Party People!
This Is Captain Kim Speaking
Welcome Aboard Venga Airways
After Take Off Will Pump Up The Soundsystem
Cause We're Going To Ibiza!
I Don't Wanna Be A Busdriver
All My Life
I'm Gonna Pack My Bags And Leave This Town
Grab A Flight
Fly Away On Venga Airways
Fly Me High
Ibiza Sky
I Look Up At The Sky
And I See The Clouds
I Looked Down At The Ground
And I See The Rainbow Down The Drain
Fly Away On Venga Airways
Fly Me High
Ibiza Sky
Whoah! We're Going To Ibiza
[...] Read more
song performed by Vengaboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Human Sea
Waking up in the night
The fear comes down
Oh
And here I go again with the insecurities
Doubts are running themselves all over me
Help
Help is on the way
She dont have to say
Anything
She reaches out her hand
I know she understands
All of me
Nobody loves me like she
Just another face in the human sea
But she gives me a reason to believe
I myself am an island in the human sea
And I know I am never gonna leave
I was running like a river
Running like a river before
Standing on the beach
[...] Read more
song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of Hiawatha XII: The Son Of The Evening Star
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
Or the Red Swan floating, flying,
Wounded by the magic arrow,
Staining all the waves with crimson,
With the crimson of its life-blood,
Filling all the air with splendor,
With the splendor of its plumage?
Yes; it is the sun descending,
Sinking down into the water;
All the sky is stained with purple,
All the water flushed with crimson!
No; it is the Red Swan floating,
Diving down beneath the water;
To the sky its wings are lifted,
With its blood the waves are reddened!
Over it the Star of Evening
Melts and trembles through the purple,
Hangs suspended in the twilight.
No; it is a bead of wampum
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Son Of The Evening Star, The
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
Or the Red Swan floating, flying,
Wounded by the magic arrow,
Staining all the waves with crimson,
With the crimson of its life-blood,
Filling all the air with splendor,
With the splendor of its plumage?
Yes; it is the sun descending,
Sinking down into the water;
All the sky is stained with purple,
All the water flushed with crimson!
No; it is the Red Swan floating,
Diving down beneath the water;
To the sky its wings are lifted,
With its blood the waves are reddened!
Over it the Star of Evening
Melts and trembles through the purple,
Hangs suspended in the twilight.
No; it is a bead of wampum
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Son Of The Evening Star
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
Or the Red Swan floating, flying,
Wounded by the magic arrow,
Staining all the waves with crimson,
With the crimson of its life-blood,
Filling all the air with splendor,
With the splendor of its plumage?
Yes; it is the sun descending,
Sinking down into the water;
All the sky is stained with purple,
All the water flushed with crimson!
No; it is the Red Swan floating,
Diving down beneath the water;
To the sky its wings are lifted,
With its blood the waves are reddened!
Over it the Star of Evening
Melts and trembles through the purple,
Hangs suspended in the twilight.
No; it is a bead of wampum
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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Book VIII: The Scouring of the Horse
In the years of the peace of Wessex,
When the good King sat at home;
Years following on that bloody boon
When she that stands above the moon
Stood above death at Ethandune
And saw his kingdom come--
When the pagan people of the sea
Fled to their palisades,
Nailed there with javelins to cling
And wonder smote the pirate king,
And brought him to his christening
And the end of all his raids.
(For not till the night's blue slate is wiped
Of its last star utterly,
And fierce new signs writ there to read,
Shall eyes with such amazement heed,
As when a great man knows indeed
A greater thing than he.)
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poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Ballad of the White Horse (1911)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Book Second [School-Time Continued]
THUS far, O Friend! have we, though leaving much
Unvisited, endeavoured to retrace
The simple ways in which my childhood walked;
Those chiefly that first led me to the love
Of rivers, woods, and fields. The passion yet
Was in its birth, sustained as might befall
By nourishment that came unsought; for still
From week to week, from month to month, we lived
A round of tumult. Duly were our games
Prolonged in summer till the daylight failed:
No chair remained before the doors; the bench
And threshold steps were empty; fast asleep
The labourer, and the old man who had sate
A later lingerer; yet the revelry
Continued and the loud uproar: at last,
When all the ground was dark, and twinkling stars
Edged the black clouds, home and to bed we went,
Feverish with weary joints and beating minds.
Ah! is there one who ever has been young,
Nor needs a warning voice to tame the pride
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poem by William Wordsworth
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