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Custom Machine
Check my custom machine
Well shes metal flake blue with a corvette grill
(check my custom machine)
And they say it looks better when shes standin still
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
Well with naugahyde bucket seats in front and back
(check my custom machine)
Everything is chrome, man, even my jack
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
With stereophonic speaker set with fibrosonic sound
(check my custom machine)
Magnesium spokes, it stands an inch off the ground
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
Oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tyrant
Behold tis I the commander
Whose grip controls you all
Resist me not, surrender
Ill no compassion call
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
Your very lives are held within my fingers
I snap them and you cower down in fear
You spineless things who belly down to slither
To the end of the world you follow to be near
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
Mourn for us oppressed in fear
Chained and shackled we are bound
Freedom choked in dread we live
Since tyrant was enthroned
I listen not to sympathy
Whilst ruler of this land
Withdraw your feeble aches and moans
Or suffer smite from this my hand
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
Mourn for us oppressed in fear
Chained and shackled we are bound
Freedom choked in dread we live
Since tyrant was enthroned
My legions faithful unto death
Ill summon to my court
And as you perish each of you
Shall scream as you are sought
(tyrant) capture of humanity
(tyrant) conqueror of all
(tyrant) hideous destructor
(tyrant) every man shall fall
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A collective tyrant, spread over the length and breadth of the land, is no more acceptable than a single tyrant ensconced on his throne.
quote by Georges Clemenceau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Song Now As New
Old Song Now As New
The tyrant too sings swing -
Tyrant is too loving as if -
Look and learn a swimming -
Don't fall asleep in its ship-
TS.
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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Custom is our nature. What are our natural principles but principles of custom?
quote by Blaise Pascal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every one with this writ may be a tyrant; if this commission be legal, a tyrant in a legal manner, also, may control, imprison, or murder any one within the realm.
quote by James Otis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our civil laws will never be supple enough to fit the immense and changing variety of facts. Laws change more slowly than custom, and though dangerous when they fall behind the times are more dangerous still when they presume to anticipate custom.
quote by Marguerite Yourcenar
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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All the Faith
He has a religion for all the faith,
Ours for the taking, ours for the right.
May we ascertain properly,
With learned men see the light.
The bubbles of words come from our mouths
Like soap and liquid, and all things about washing,
Cleaning us all with phrases of joy and harmony.
A custom breathed is a custom of sincerity,
You must take your faith and then reveal
To the people what is in their breaths,
And what minds offer in the form of questions
And answers.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Reaction
Let us, dear friend, in mutual strength arise
Against our tyrant Custom, and demand
Free souls and bodies at our own command.
Let us defy the vulgar world's surprise,
Scorn brute convention and soft compromise,
And, bold in proud revolt, and hand in hand,
Cast in our lot and take our fearless stand
With the unsafe, improper, and unwise.
Let us abjure the comfortable creeds
Approved by prudent minds, and revel free
In foolish thoughts and inexpedient deeds; —
For thus alone can life for you and me
Out of this suffocating sloth revive,
And our small spark of good be kept alive.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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The Last Poor Man
All suffering falls on a
sinful world without pointing
on where to be
sickness and saddness has made
me popular; poverty makes
me feel pride of lack
I am not rich yet my
heart creeps into poverty
My suffering has grant
my generation riches and
success; my tyrant is
here speak not of wealth
close the doors and windows
lets talk in te`te-a-te`te
My home is inside his
oath my tyrant speak in fate
and call me a poorman
No the price must be
paid for my success
i have seen the
twenty twenty vision
i am needless of my
tyrant fate,
my struggle is my glory.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Written for my Son ... at his First Putting on Breeches
WHAT is it our mamma's bewitches,
To plague us little boys with breeches ?
To tyrant Custom we must yield,
Whilst vanquish'd Reason flies the field.
Our legs must suffer by ligation,
To keep the blood from circulation ;
And then our feet, tho' young and tender,
We to the shoemaker's surrender ;
Who often makes our shoes so strait,
Our growing feet they cramp and fret ;
Whilst, with contrivance most profound,
Across our insteps we are bound ;
Which is the cause, I make no doubt,
Why thousands suffer in the gout.
Our wiser ancestors wore brogues,
Before the surgeons brib'd these rogues,
With narrow toes, and heels like pegs,
To help to make us break our legs.
Then, ere we know to use our fists,
Our mothers closely bind our wrists ;
And never think our cloaths are neat,
Till they're so tight we cannot eat.
And, to increase our other pains,
The hatband helps to cramp our brains.
The cravat finishes the work,
Like bowstring sent from the Grand Turk.
Thus dress, that should prolong our date,
Is made to hasten on our fate.
Fair privilege of nobler natures,
To be more plagu'd than other creatures !
The wild inhabitants of air
Are cloath'd by heav'n with wondrous care :
Their beauteous, well-compacted feathers
Are coats of mail against all weathers ;
Enamell'd, to delight the eye ;
Gay as the bow that decks the sky.
The beasts are cloath'd with beauteous skins :
The fishes arm'd with scales and fins ;
Whose lustre lends the sailor light,
When all the stars are hid in night.
O were our dress contriv'd like these,
For use, for ornament, and ease !
Man only seems to sorrow born,
Naked, defenceless, and forlorn.
Yet we have Reason to supply
What nature did to man deny :
Weak Viceroy ! Who thy pow'r will own,
When Custom has usurp'd thy throne ?
In vain did I appeal to thee,
Ere I would wear his livery ;
Who, in defiance of thy rules,
Delights to make us act like fools.
O'er human race the tyrant reigns,
And binds them in eternal chains.
We yield to his despotic sway,
The only monarch all obey.
poem by Mary Barber
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Customs
Flow with custom in the light of drama,
This new disposition is working like a dream.
May the mercy erupt and show clarity
In the noting down of principles so shameless.
We are dreaming like a sleeper on a forced habit,
Their thoughts are seen by the ones present.
We seek your company as of now, of immobile features
That drag on and on, working away like real natures.
Custom takes on prettiness the way you were,
In the effort to drag a new meaning of awe.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Feelings Of A Republican On The Fall Of Bonaparte
I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did groan
To think that a most unambitious slave,
Like thou, shouldst dance and revel on the grave
Of Liberty. Thou mightst have built thy throne
Where it had stood even now: thou didst prefer
A frail and bloody pomp which Time has swept
In fragments towards Oblivion. Massacre,
For this I prayed, would on thy sleep have crept,
Treason and Slavery, Rapine, Fear, and Lust,
And stifled thee, their minister. I know
Too late, since thou and France are in the dust,
That Virtue owns a more eternal foe
Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime,
And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Ch 01 Manner of Kings Story 19
It is related that, whilst some game was being roasted for Nushirvan the just during a hunting party, no salt could be found. Accordingly a boy was sent to an adjoining village to bring some. Nushirvan said: "Pay for the salt lest it should become a custom and the village be ruined." Having been asked what harm could arise from such a trifling demand, Nushirvan replied: "The foundation of oppression was small in the world but whoever came augmented it so that it reached its present magnitude."
If the king eats one apple from the garden of a subject
His slaves will pull him up the tree from the roots.
For five eggs which the sultan allows to be taken by force
The people belonging to his army will put a thousand fowls on the spit.
A tyrant does not remain in the world
But the curse on him abides for ever.
Cruelty Can Conquer
Do not blame the people for their cruelty,
Their trustworthiness makes them cruel.
A moaning and lamenting is occurring
Within the ranks of the community.
May a tyrant be judged as a hazard
To save the folk, the folk of love and affection.
Some will desert, some of clay shall break,
But most endure with proper cruelty.
For the tyrant is no more a friend,
And they are no more friends with their enemies,
The enemies of the slain are defeated,
And with the cruelty, with the trust of conquest.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Gigantic daughter of the West,
Gigantic daughter of the West,
We drink to thee across the flood,
We know thee most, we love thee best,
For art thou not of British blood?
Should war's mad blast again be blown,
Permit not thou the tyrant powers
To fight thy mother here alone,
But let thy broadsides roar with ours.
Hands all round!
God the tyrant's cause confound!
To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends,
And the great name of England, round and round.
'O rise, our strong Atlantic sons,
When war against our freedom springs!
O speak to Europe through your guns!
They can be understood by kings.
You must not mix our Queen with those
That wish to keep their people fools;
Our freedom's foemen are her foes,
She comprehends the race she rules.
Hands all round!
God the tyrant's cause confound!
To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends,
And the great cause of Freedom, round and round.'
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Lonely Ol Night
She calls me up and says baby its a lonely ol night
I dont know Im just so scared and lonely all at the same time
Nobody told us it was gonna work out this way no, no, no, no, no
I guess they knew wed work it out in our own way
Chorus:
Its a lonely ol night
Can I put my arms around you
Its a lonely ol night
Custom made for two lonely people like me and you
Radio playing softly some singers sad sad song
Hes singing about standing in the shadows of love
I guess he feels awfully alone
She says I know exactly what he means yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
And its a sad, sad feeling when youre living on those in-betweens
But its okay
Chorus:
Its a lonely ol night
Can I put my arms around you
Its a lonely ol night
Custom made for two lonely people like me and you
She calls me baby she calls everybody baby
Its a lonely ol night but aint they all
Chorus:
Its a lonely ol night
Can I put my arms around you
Its a lonely ol night
Custom made for two lonely people like me and you
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amabel
I MARKED her ruined hues,
Her custom-straitened views,
And asked, "Can there indwell
My Amabel?"
I looked upon her gown,
Once rose, now earthen brown;
The change was like the knell
Of Amabel.
Her step's mechanic ways
Had lost the life of May's;
Her laugh, once sweet in swell,
Spoilt Amabel.
I mused: "Who sings the strain
I sang ere warmth did wane?
Who thinks its numbers spell
His Amabel?"--
Knowing that, though Love cease,
Love's race shows undecrease;
All find in dorp or dell
An Amabel.
--I felt that I could creep
To some housetop, and weep,
That Time the tyrant fell
Ruled Amabel!
I said (the while I sighed
That love like ours had died),
"Fond things I'll no more tell
To Amabel,
"But leave her to her fate,
And fling across the gate,
'Till the Last Trump, farewell,
O Amabel!'"
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Three Angels
Nine dollars, two cents
No money, no rent
8759 thats the number
Be on time
Bring something, dont care
Whatever, be there
Good woman, good loving, good feeling
Three angels
Eight castles, wants nine
Unhappy all the time
Gold headlights, cant see
Sure could help him, feel free
Five aces, no calls
Easy action on the walls
One burning, two custom, all waiting
Three angels
Burns, hofner, white flats
All together feeding back
No mixer, no lights
Good fixer, be all right
Dream wishing, downtown
In the windows, locked sound
One burning, two custom, all waiting
Three angels
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With a Nantucket Shell
I SEND thee a shell from the ocean beach;
But listen thou well, for my shell hath speech.
Hold to thine ear,
And plain thou’lt hear
Tales of ships
That were lost in the rips,
Or that sunk on shoals
Where the bell-buoy tolls,
And ever and ever its iron tongue rolls
In a ceaseless lament for the poor lost souls.
And a song of the sea
Has my shell for thee;
The melody in it
Was hummed at Wauwinet,
And caught at Coatue
By the gull that flew
Outside to the ship with its perishing crew.
But the white wings wave
Where none may save,
And there ’s never a stone to mark a grave.
See, its sad heart bleeds
For the sailors’ needs;
But it bleeds again
For more mortal pain,
More sorrow and woe,
Than is theirs who go
With shuddering eyes and whitening lips
Down in the sea on their shattered ships.
Thou fearest the sea?
And a tyrant is he,—
A tyrant as cruel as tyrant may be;
But though winds fierce blow,
And the rocks lie low,
And the coast be lee,
This I say to thee:
Of Christian souls more have been wrecked on shore
Than ever were lost at sea!
poem by Charles Harper Webb
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