Grapefruit moon, one star shining, shining down on me. Heard that tune, and now I'm pining, honey, can't you see? Because every time I hear that melody, well, something breaks inside and the grapefruit moon, one star shining, can't turn back the tide.
Never had no destination, could not get across. You became my inspiration, oh but what a cost. 'Cause every time I hear that melody, well, something breaks inside and the grapefruit moon, one star shining, is more than I can hide. Now I'm smoking cigarettes and I strive for purity. I slip just like the stars into obscurity. Because every time I hear that melody, well, puts me up a tree.
The grapefruit moon, one star shining, is all that I can see.
Tom Waits
The Logical Song
When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful, a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical. And all the birds in the trees ... well, they'd be singing so happily, joyfully, playfully watching me.
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible, logical, responsible, practical. And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable, clinical, intellectual, cynical.
Now watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical, liberal, fanatical, criminal. Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable!
There are times when all the world's asleep, the questions run too deep, for such a simple man. Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned. I know it sounds absurd, but please tell me who I am.
Roger Hodgson
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible, logical, responsible, practical. And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable, clinical, intellectual, cynical.
Now watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical, liberal, fanatical, criminal. Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable!
There are times when all the world's asleep, the questions run too deep, for such a simple man. Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned. I know it sounds absurd, but please tell me who I am.
Roger Hodgson
Don't push
Stolen from an africa land chased out with a knife, with a face like Bob Marley and a mouth like a motor bike. Oh well, the bars are always open and the time is always right and if God's good word goes unspoken the music goes all night ... and it goes:
Racism is schism on a serious tip. You don't believe me that I won't bust your lip. I hear the mountain. It hard to climb. Ruffle the rhythm and it must be sublime. Listen yellow lover, yeah, it's right on time. We got cricket with the quickness and the bass line. Go and raid the sound and tell the people the news. Oh, hey! tell them reggae music is on the loose.
Here I am from the place where the sun keeps shine new style in a unique fashion and good good vibes that keep on playing, playing. People wanna come up and they wanna tell me smoking crack cocaine better than sensi. You're pumping that shit! Yo! we're sick of it. Teaking every weekend and we just can't take it. We don't want plastic.
Bradley James Nowell
If I was Bob Marley: I'd say could you be lovedIf I had a shotgun, you know what I'd do? I'd point that shit straight at the sky and shoot heaven on down for you. Because the bars are always open and the time is always right and if God's good word goes unspoken the music goes all night ... and it goes:
If I was half pint: I'd ball the lord up above
If I was Mike Tyson: I'd look for a fight
If I was Boomtown Rats: I won't be staying up all night
If I was the king Ad-Rock: I would get stupid dumb
If rhymes were valiums: I'd be comfortably numb
I want a lover, I can't find the timeNow a days as clear as you please, strapped with protection or strapped with disease. Laughter, it's free any time just call me 439-0116 when you're down with sublime you get funky fresh lyrics. You get nothing. Stolen from an africa land got chased out of the bar. I saw my best friend tonight so don't push me too far. I'm gonna run come down with the new lyrics. Get hit! Get hip! Don't slip, you knuckle heads.
I want a reason, I can't find the rhyme
And I want to start some static, but I can't afford
Just lay on the ground like I fell off my skateboard
Racism is schism on a serious tip. You don't believe me that I won't bust your lip. I hear the mountain. It hard to climb. Ruffle the rhythm and it must be sublime. Listen yellow lover, yeah, it's right on time. We got cricket with the quickness and the bass line. Go and raid the sound and tell the people the news. Oh, hey! tell them reggae music is on the loose.
Here I am from the place where the sun keeps shine new style in a unique fashion and good good vibes that keep on playing, playing. People wanna come up and they wanna tell me smoking crack cocaine better than sensi. You're pumping that shit! Yo! we're sick of it. Teaking every weekend and we just can't take it. We don't want plastic.
Bradley James Nowell
Real to Me
Showbiz dinners and the free champagne, men in suits who think they know it all, no-one knows me but they know my name. That's not real to me. Hotel lobby to the aeroplane. Another country, but they start to look the same. Watch the world behind a window pane. That's not real to me.
When I see my babies run, when all the madness has been and gone, I'll raise my family and live in peace. Now, that's what's real to me.
Dying flowers in a dressing room. A dangerous time to let your head make up it's own mind. Got me thinking that the spirits flown. That's not real to me.
Picnics in the garden and the children they can play. The first day of the summer and I laze here all the day. Then we'll invite the family round and drink some english tea. Then I raise up my finger and watch football on TV. Now, that's what's real to me.
Wake up you might be dreaming.
Guy Chambers and Brian McFadden
When I see my babies run, when all the madness has been and gone, I'll raise my family and live in peace. Now, that's what's real to me.
Dying flowers in a dressing room. A dangerous time to let your head make up it's own mind. Got me thinking that the spirits flown. That's not real to me.
Picnics in the garden and the children they can play. The first day of the summer and I laze here all the day. Then we'll invite the family round and drink some english tea. Then I raise up my finger and watch football on TV. Now, that's what's real to me.
Wake up you might be dreaming.
Guy Chambers and Brian McFadden
STAND BY ME
When the night has come and the land is dark and the moon is the only light we'll see. No, I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid, just as long as you stand, stand by me. If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall and the mountains should crumble to the sea. I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear, just as long as you stand, stand by me.
Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me.
Ben E. King
Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me.
Ben E. King
This too shall pass
You know you can't keep letting it get you down and you can't keep dragging that dead weight around. If there ain't all that much to lug around, better run like hell when you hit the ground. You can't stop these kids from dancing. Why would you want to? Especially when you're already getting yours. Because if your mind don't move and your knees don't bend, well, don't go blaming the kids again. Let it go, this too shall pass: when the morning comes!
Damian Joseph Kulash
Damian Joseph Kulash
The Wild Wild Sea
I saw it again this evening. Black sail in a pale yellow sky and just as before, in a moment, it was gone where the grey gulls fly. If it happens again, I shall worry that only a strange ship could fly; and my sanity scans the horizon in the light of a darkening sky.
That night, as I walked in my slumber, I waded into the sea strand and I swam with the moon and her lover until I lost sight of the land. I swam 'til the night became morning. Black sail in a reddening sky. Found myself on the deck of a rolling ship so far where no grey gulls fly. All around me was silence as if mocking my frail human hopes; and a question mark hung in the canvas for the wind that had died in the ropes.
I may have slept for an hour, I may have slept for a day, for I woke in a bed of white linen and the sky was the color of clay. At first just a rattle of canvas and the gentlest breath on my face, but a galloping line of white horses said that soon we're in for a race. The gentle sigh turned to a howling and the grey sky, she angered to black; and my anxious eyes searched the horizon with the gathering sea at my back. Did I see the shade of a sailor on the bridge through the wheelhouse pane held fast to the wheel of the rocking ship as I squinted my eye in the rain? For the ship had turned into the wind against the storm to brace; and underneath the sailor's hat I saw my father's face.
If a prayer today is spoken, please offer it for me when the bridge to heaven is broken and you're lost on the wild, wild sea.
Gordon Matthew Sumner
That night, as I walked in my slumber, I waded into the sea strand and I swam with the moon and her lover until I lost sight of the land. I swam 'til the night became morning. Black sail in a reddening sky. Found myself on the deck of a rolling ship so far where no grey gulls fly. All around me was silence as if mocking my frail human hopes; and a question mark hung in the canvas for the wind that had died in the ropes.
I may have slept for an hour, I may have slept for a day, for I woke in a bed of white linen and the sky was the color of clay. At first just a rattle of canvas and the gentlest breath on my face, but a galloping line of white horses said that soon we're in for a race. The gentle sigh turned to a howling and the grey sky, she angered to black; and my anxious eyes searched the horizon with the gathering sea at my back. Did I see the shade of a sailor on the bridge through the wheelhouse pane held fast to the wheel of the rocking ship as I squinted my eye in the rain? For the ship had turned into the wind against the storm to brace; and underneath the sailor's hat I saw my father's face.
If a prayer today is spoken, please offer it for me when the bridge to heaven is broken and you're lost on the wild, wild sea.
Gordon Matthew Sumner
The origin of love
When the earth was still flat and the clouds made of fire and mountains stretched up to the sky, sometimes higher, folks roamed the earth like big rolling kegs. They had two sets of arms. They had two sets of legs. They had two faces peering out of one giant head so they could watch all around them as they talked; while they read. And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love and there were three sexes then. One that looked like two men glued up back to back, called the children of the sun, and similar in shape and girth were the children of the earth. They looked like two girls rolled up in one. And the children of the moon were like a fork shoved on a spoon. They were part sun, part earth, part daughter, part son.
Now the gods grew quite scared of our strength and defiance and Thor said,"I'm gonna kill them all with my hammer, like I killed the giants." And Zeus said, "No, you better let me use my lightening, like scissors,like I cut the legs off the whales and dinosaurs into lizards." Then he grabbed up some bolts and he let out a laugh and said, "I'll split them right down the middle. Gonna cut them right up in half." And then storm clouds gathered above into great balls of fire and then fire shot down from the sky in bolts, like shining blades of a knife, and it ripped right through the flesh of the children of the sun and the moon and the earth.
And some Indian god sewed the wound up into a hole, pulled it round to our belly to remind us of the price we pay, and Osiris and the gods of the Nile gathered up a big storm to blow a hurricane to scatter us away in a flood of wind and rain and a sea of tidal waves to wash us all away. And if we don't behave, they'll cut us down again and we'll be hopping round on one foot and looking through one eye.
Last time I saw you we had just split in two. You were looking at me. I was looking at you. You had a way so familiar but I could not recognize cause you had blood on your face and I had blood in my eyes. But I could swear by your expression that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in mine. That's the pain that cuts a straight line down through the heart.
We called it love. So we wrapped our arms around each other, trying to shove ourselves back together. We were making love. It was a cold dark evening, such a long time ago, when, by the mighty hand of Jove, it was the sad story of how we became lonely two-legged creatures. It's the story of the origin of love.
Stephen Trask
It was before the origin of love and there were three sexes then. One that looked like two men glued up back to back, called the children of the sun, and similar in shape and girth were the children of the earth. They looked like two girls rolled up in one. And the children of the moon were like a fork shoved on a spoon. They were part sun, part earth, part daughter, part son.
Now the gods grew quite scared of our strength and defiance and Thor said,"I'm gonna kill them all with my hammer, like I killed the giants." And Zeus said, "No, you better let me use my lightening, like scissors,like I cut the legs off the whales and dinosaurs into lizards." Then he grabbed up some bolts and he let out a laugh and said, "I'll split them right down the middle. Gonna cut them right up in half." And then storm clouds gathered above into great balls of fire and then fire shot down from the sky in bolts, like shining blades of a knife, and it ripped right through the flesh of the children of the sun and the moon and the earth.
And some Indian god sewed the wound up into a hole, pulled it round to our belly to remind us of the price we pay, and Osiris and the gods of the Nile gathered up a big storm to blow a hurricane to scatter us away in a flood of wind and rain and a sea of tidal waves to wash us all away. And if we don't behave, they'll cut us down again and we'll be hopping round on one foot and looking through one eye.
Last time I saw you we had just split in two. You were looking at me. I was looking at you. You had a way so familiar but I could not recognize cause you had blood on your face and I had blood in my eyes. But I could swear by your expression that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in mine. That's the pain that cuts a straight line down through the heart.
We called it love. So we wrapped our arms around each other, trying to shove ourselves back together. We were making love. It was a cold dark evening, such a long time ago, when, by the mighty hand of Jove, it was the sad story of how we became lonely two-legged creatures. It's the story of the origin of love.
Stephen Trask
A penny for the Old Guy
We are the hollow men, we are the stuffed men, leaning together, headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when we whisper together, are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass or rats’ feet over broken glass in our dry cellar. Shape without form, shade without colour, paralysed force, gesture without motion. Those who have crossed with direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom remember us — if at all — not as lost violent souls, but only as the hollow men. The stuffed men.
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams in death’s dream kingdom, these do not appear. There, the eyes are sunlight on a broken column. There, is a tree swinging and voices are in the wind’s singing more distant and more solemn than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer in death’s dream kingdom. Let me also wear such deliberate disguises. Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves, no nearer – not that final meeting in the twilight kingdom
This is the dead land. This is cactus land. Here the stone images are raised. Here they receive the supplication of a dead man’s hand under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this in death’s other kingdom. Waking alone at the hour when we are, trembling with tenderness. Lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone.
The eyes are not here. There are no eyes here, in this valley of dying stars, in this hollow valley, this broken jaw of our lost kingdoms. In this last of meeting places we grope together and avoid speech, gathered on this beach of the tumid river sightless, unless the eyes reappear as the perpetual star, multifoliate rose of death’s twilight kingdom.
The hope only of empty men. Here we go round the prickly pear, prickly pear, prickly pear. Here we go round the prickly pear at five o’clock in the morning. Between the idea and the reality. Between the motion and the act falls the Shadow. For Thine is the Kingdom.
Between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response, falls the Shadow. Life is very long between the desire and the spasm, between the potency and the existence, between the essence and the descent, falls the Shadow. For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is Life. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot – The Hollow Men
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams in death’s dream kingdom, these do not appear. There, the eyes are sunlight on a broken column. There, is a tree swinging and voices are in the wind’s singing more distant and more solemn than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer in death’s dream kingdom. Let me also wear such deliberate disguises. Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves, no nearer – not that final meeting in the twilight kingdom
This is the dead land. This is cactus land. Here the stone images are raised. Here they receive the supplication of a dead man’s hand under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this in death’s other kingdom. Waking alone at the hour when we are, trembling with tenderness. Lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone.
The eyes are not here. There are no eyes here, in this valley of dying stars, in this hollow valley, this broken jaw of our lost kingdoms. In this last of meeting places we grope together and avoid speech, gathered on this beach of the tumid river sightless, unless the eyes reappear as the perpetual star, multifoliate rose of death’s twilight kingdom.
The hope only of empty men. Here we go round the prickly pear, prickly pear, prickly pear. Here we go round the prickly pear at five o’clock in the morning. Between the idea and the reality. Between the motion and the act falls the Shadow. For Thine is the Kingdom.
Between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response, falls the Shadow. Life is very long between the desire and the spasm, between the potency and the existence, between the essence and the descent, falls the Shadow. For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is Life. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot – The Hollow Men
Breathe
Breathe, breathe in the air. Don't be afraid to care. Leave, but don't leave me. Look around and chose your own ground, for long you live and high you fly and smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry and all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be.
Run, run rabbit run. Dig that hole. Forget the sun. And when at last the work is done don't sit down, it's time to dig another one. For long you live and high you fly but only if you ride the tide and balance on the biggest wave you race toward an early grave.
Syd Barrett
Run, run rabbit run. Dig that hole. Forget the sun. And when at last the work is done don't sit down, it's time to dig another one. For long you live and high you fly but only if you ride the tide and balance on the biggest wave you race toward an early grave.
Syd Barrett
Heavy in your arms
I was a heavy heart to carry, my beloved was weighed down, my arms around his neck - my fingers laced a crown.
I was a heavy heart to carry, my feet dragged across the ground and he took me to the river where he slowly let me drown.
My love has concrete feet, my love's an iron ball wrapped around your ankles - over the waterfall. I'm so heavy. Heavy. Heavy in your arms: and is it worth the wait - all this killing time.
Are you strong enough to stand, protecting both your heart and mine? Who is the betrayer? Who's the killer in the crowd? - The one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound.
This will be my last confession: "I love you" never felt like any blessing - whisper it like it's a secret uttered to condemn to the one who hears it with a heavy heart.
I was a heavy heart to carry but he never let me down. When he held me in his arms my feet never touched the ground.
Florence and the Machine
I was a heavy heart to carry, my feet dragged across the ground and he took me to the river where he slowly let me drown.
My love has concrete feet, my love's an iron ball wrapped around your ankles - over the waterfall. I'm so heavy. Heavy. Heavy in your arms: and is it worth the wait - all this killing time.
Are you strong enough to stand, protecting both your heart and mine? Who is the betrayer? Who's the killer in the crowd? - The one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound.
This will be my last confession: "I love you" never felt like any blessing - whisper it like it's a secret uttered to condemn to the one who hears it with a heavy heart.
I was a heavy heart to carry but he never let me down. When he held me in his arms my feet never touched the ground.
Florence and the Machine
What a wonderful world
I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you and I think to myself - "what a wonderful world". I see skies of blue and clouds of white, the bright blessed day, the dark sacred night, and I think to myself what a wonderful world. The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky, are also on the faces of people going by. I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do.
They're really saying - "I love you".
I hear babies crying, I watch them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll never know and I think to myself - "what a wonderful world".
Yes I think to myself - "what a wonderful world".
Bob Thiele and George David Weiss
They're really saying - "I love you".
I hear babies crying, I watch them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll never know and I think to myself - "what a wonderful world".
Yes I think to myself - "what a wonderful world".
Bob Thiele and George David Weiss
I want
I want you to trust me. I want you to believe me. I want to feel your eyes. I want to control every heartbeat. I want to hear your voices. I want to disturb the peace. I want you to see me well. I want you to understand me. I want your fantasy. I want your energy. I want to see your hands. I want to go down in applause.
Do you see me? Do you understand me? Do you feel me? Do you hear me? Can you hear me?
We hear you. Can you see me? We see you. Can you feel me? We feel you.
I don't understand you. I want.
We want you to trust us. We want you to believe everything from us. We want to see your hands. We want to go down in applause - yeah!
Can you hear me? We hear you. Can you see me? We see you. Can you feel me? We feel you.
I don't understand you.
Can you hear us? We hear you. Can you see us? We see you. Can you feel us? We feel you. We don't understand you.
I want.
Rammstein - Ich Will
Stone words
ek klim in die hoek, geblindoek ... ek klim in die grond - aard kind - stom van verlange vir myself. ek klim in die wind, onskuld en ....
A love poem from Africa
We could dance a moment. Kiss the ground with urgent feet that spell our names for the moon and the sun. Is your heart in your sole, like mine? Rumbling thick like heat in Feb. Tracing its pulse in the red dust shedding cloud in the musk of nite.
I’m sipping on your black, smothered in colour brighter than light one shadow thick, like heat smothered in black, colour brighter than light.
Khadija T Heeger
ek klim in die hoek, geblindoek ... ek klim in die grond - aard kind - stom van verlange vir myself. ek klim in die wind, onskuld en ....
A love poem from Africa
We could dance a moment. Kiss the ground with urgent feet that spell our names for the moon and the sun. Is your heart in your sole, like mine? Rumbling thick like heat in Feb. Tracing its pulse in the red dust shedding cloud in the musk of nite.
I’m sipping on your black, smothered in colour brighter than light one shadow thick, like heat smothered in black, colour brighter than light.
Khadija T Heeger
Prayer for the intercession of the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus
Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum, Virgo serena.
Ave cuius conceptio, solemni plena gaudio, celestia, terrestria, nova replet letitia. Ave cuius nativitas, nostra fuit solemnitas ut lucifer lux oriens verum solem preveniens. Ave pia humilitas, sine viro fecunditas, cuius annunciatio nostra fuit salvatio. Ave vera virginitas, immaculata castitas, cuius purificatio nostra fuit purgatio. Ave preclara omnibus angelicis virtutibus, cuius fuit assumptio nostra glorificatio.
O Mater Dei, memento mei. Amen.
Ave cuius conceptio, solemni plena gaudio, celestia, terrestria, nova replet letitia. Ave cuius nativitas, nostra fuit solemnitas ut lucifer lux oriens verum solem preveniens. Ave pia humilitas, sine viro fecunditas, cuius annunciatio nostra fuit salvatio. Ave vera virginitas, immaculata castitas, cuius purificatio nostra fuit purgatio. Ave preclara omnibus angelicis virtutibus, cuius fuit assumptio nostra glorificatio.
O Mater Dei, memento mei. Amen.
Indifference
I will light the match this morning, so I won't be alone. Watch as she lies silent, for soon light will be gone. I will stand arms outstretched, pretend I'm free to roam. I will make my way, through, one more day in hell. How much difference does it make?
I will hold the candle till it burns up my arm. I'll keep taking punches until their will grows tired. I will stare the sun down until my eyes go blind. Hey I won't change direction and I won't change my mind. How much difference does it make?
I'll swallow poison until I grow immune. I will scream my lungs out till it fills this room. How much difference does it make?
Eddie Vedder
I will hold the candle till it burns up my arm. I'll keep taking punches until their will grows tired. I will stare the sun down until my eyes go blind. Hey I won't change direction and I won't change my mind. How much difference does it make?
I'll swallow poison until I grow immune. I will scream my lungs out till it fills this room. How much difference does it make?
Eddie Vedder
Life on Mars?
It's a god-awful small affair to the girl with the mousy hair but her mummy is yelling "No!", and her daddy has told her to go. But her friend is nowhere to be seen.
Now she walks through her sunken dream to the seat with the clearest view and she's hooked to the silver screen but the film is a saddening bore, for she's lived it ten times or more. She could spit in the eyes of fools as they ask her to focus on sailors fighting in the dance hall. Oh man, look at those cavemen go. It's the freakiest show. Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy. Oh man, wonder if he'll ever know he's in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?
It's on America's tortured brow - that Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow. Now the workers have struck for fame because Lennon's on sale again. See the mice in their million hordes from Ibeza to the Norfolk Broads. Rule Britannia is out of bounds to my mother, my dog, and clowns.
But the film is a saddening bore because I wrote it ten times or more. It's about to be writ' again as I ask you to focus on sailors fighting in the dance hall. Oh man, look at those cavemen go. It's the freakiest show. Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy. Oh man, wonder if he'll ever know he's in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?
David Bowie
Now she walks through her sunken dream to the seat with the clearest view and she's hooked to the silver screen but the film is a saddening bore, for she's lived it ten times or more. She could spit in the eyes of fools as they ask her to focus on sailors fighting in the dance hall. Oh man, look at those cavemen go. It's the freakiest show. Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy. Oh man, wonder if he'll ever know he's in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?
It's on America's tortured brow - that Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow. Now the workers have struck for fame because Lennon's on sale again. See the mice in their million hordes from Ibeza to the Norfolk Broads. Rule Britannia is out of bounds to my mother, my dog, and clowns.
But the film is a saddening bore because I wrote it ten times or more. It's about to be writ' again as I ask you to focus on sailors fighting in the dance hall. Oh man, look at those cavemen go. It's the freakiest show. Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy. Oh man, wonder if he'll ever know he's in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?
David Bowie
Irish blood, English heart
Irish blood, English heart, this I'm made of. There is no-one on earth I'm afraid of and no regime can buy or sell me. I've been dreaming of a time when to be English is not to be baneful, to be standing by the flag not feeling shameful, racist or partial.
Irish blood, English heart, this I'm made of. There is no-one on earth I'm afraid of and I will die with both my hands untied. I've been dreaming of a time when the English are sick to death of Labour and Tories, and spit upon the name of Oliver Cromwell, and denounce this royal line that still salute him and will salute him forever.
Steven Patrick Morrissey
Irish blood, English heart, this I'm made of. There is no-one on earth I'm afraid of and I will die with both my hands untied. I've been dreaming of a time when the English are sick to death of Labour and Tories, and spit upon the name of Oliver Cromwell, and denounce this royal line that still salute him and will salute him forever.
Steven Patrick Morrissey
Are we a warrior?
The earth is alone and I give thanks for the fullness. Within the firmaments is golden days and blossoming nights. His gently hands made I-man: son of Him. Life was divided and sweet harmony come in. Women and children are we a warrior?
Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not you arrow from your bow! LORD!
Faith is a mountain so silent and filled fountains of waters for all of His loving creatures. He give us wisdom and knowledge! Understand His love.
Do we have to have a war? Are we a warrior? Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not your arrow from your bow so hold it low and never let it go.
What cause? You have a pistol in your hand! Lord! Is it for to shot a man down dead? Do we have to have a storm? Lord! Why can't we be calm like a lamb? LORD! Lord above! It's not only when there's a small confusion: it is a war! There other ways as well. Sometimes being confused within your own head because at times, hearts get heavier than lead. Are we a warrior?
Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not your arrow from your bow, so hold it low and never let go. Take a look at sad children and tales of their true stories. It should be one all round glory! The hour has come and still I can see no love! It's a war for food, clothes and shelter and crying of mamas and papas.
Are we a warrior? Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not your arrow from your bow.
Prophecy is now revealed: the son of man won't take heed! The hurt he is giving out while life is taken in a sudden shock, the crying of the people multiplying all over. Jah will give an answer to any Rasta cry-out. Are we a warrior?
Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not you arrow from your bow! Never let it go!
Trevor Sutherland
Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not you arrow from your bow! LORD!
Faith is a mountain so silent and filled fountains of waters for all of His loving creatures. He give us wisdom and knowledge! Understand His love.
Do we have to have a war? Are we a warrior? Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not your arrow from your bow so hold it low and never let it go.
What cause? You have a pistol in your hand! Lord! Is it for to shot a man down dead? Do we have to have a storm? Lord! Why can't we be calm like a lamb? LORD! Lord above! It's not only when there's a small confusion: it is a war! There other ways as well. Sometimes being confused within your own head because at times, hearts get heavier than lead. Are we a warrior?
Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not your arrow from your bow, so hold it low and never let go. Take a look at sad children and tales of their true stories. It should be one all round glory! The hour has come and still I can see no love! It's a war for food, clothes and shelter and crying of mamas and papas.
Are we a warrior? Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not your arrow from your bow.
Prophecy is now revealed: the son of man won't take heed! The hurt he is giving out while life is taken in a sudden shock, the crying of the people multiplying all over. Jah will give an answer to any Rasta cry-out. Are we a warrior?
Oh Cupid! it's stupid! Let not you arrow from your bow! Never let it go!
Trevor Sutherland
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
