A bit of Pink Floyd never goes amiss, guv’nor.
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look
But it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
The dreamer, the unwoken fool,
In dreams, no pain will kiss the brow.
The love of ages fills the head.
The days that linger there in prey of emptiness,
Of burned out dreams.
The minutes calling through the years.
The universal dreamer rises up above his earthly burden.
Journeys to the dead of night
High on a hill in Eldorado.
Ooh. Cool. Poetry reading. Do some more.
Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:
Far from its base and shaft expanding—the round zones circling, comprehending,
Thou, Washington, art all the world’s, the continents’ entire—not yours alone, America,
Europe’s as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer’s cot,
Or frozen North, or sultry South—the African’s—the Arab’s in his tent,
Old Asia’s there with venerable smile, seated amid her ruins;
(Greets the antique the hero new? ‘tis but the same—the heir legitimate, continued ever,
The indomitable heart and arm—proofs of the never-broken line,
Courage, alertness, patience, faith, the same—e’en in defeat defeated not, the same)
Wherever sails a ship, or house is built on land, or day or night,
Through teeming cities’ streets, indoors or out, factories or farms,
Now, or to come, or past—where patriot wills existed or exist,
Wherever Freedom, pois’d by Toleration, sway’d by Law,
Stands or is rising thy true monument.
Just on the border of your waking mind
There lies… Another time
Where darkness & light are one
And as you tread the halls of sanity
You feel so glad to be
Unable to go beyond
I have a message
From another time…
You ask of how things might have been
And wonder if it was a sin
And on the tablet, carved in stone
Your crime of living stands alone
*TAKE THY BEAK FROM OUT MY HEART
AND TAKE THY FORM FROM OFF MY DOOR!
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Take thy beak from out my heart
And take thy form from off my door!
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
WHY YOU LITTLE… .
Uh, oh!
COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE RAVEN!*
Raven-ous and
Raven-haired
go ahead, kiss her
If you dare!
Now, in Kilkenny it is reported
On marble stone as black as ink
With gold and silver I would support her
But I’ll sing no more till I get a drink
I’m drunk today and I’m rarely sober
A handsome rover from town to town
No! Me, me, me!
Now I have this most evil earworm. Do not read this.
[spoiler]The J.J. Cale song Clyde being performed as a marching song (call and response)
*Clyde plays electric bass
He plays it with finesse and grace*[/spoiler]
I had an earworm. I used it to fish for complements. Got a byte, had to throw it back. Must be at least a kilobyte to be a keeper. Even then, one doesn’t do much good. You gotta have a mess of 'em.
I hate the term earworm, i call it ‘thought fillers’, much more pleasant sounding, right?
Until you’re on the second day of said musical madness, then I call it ‘the VanGogh paradox’ 
My sister wears a skirt and likes to flirt
with Bert who walk around without a shirt,
but I like dirt and don’t like to get hurt
by girls.
I keep seeing this ad where several guys are saying “boys will be boys”, and it seems wrong to me, because I remember hearing the exact opposite from a Mr. Davies.
I’m here to kill this thread. So you guys don’t post anymore. Umkay? Thx.
M’kay.
Biffster you are a card!
Um, I just went through all 52 in my deck and didn’t see a Biffster.