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A Handful Of Pain
(m - kusch l -deris)
I believe what we called a game
Is more than just a handful of pain
I still remember every hour
Every second has been hours
Far away from many burden
We met eyes without a curtain
Headless into a new sensation
Wether brain nor fear of patience
Careless we had a game to play
You crossed my way for twenty days
Why dont you just heal
The yearning that I feel?
Hey, what we called a game
Is more than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
Were different colours, diferent nature
Both we weer like pupil and teacher
Its a puzzle with two pieces
Still not done cause one still misses
Helpless I go through unknown stages
A chapter of life which has missing pages
Torture not owly phisical
It pains unbound, way way down
The yearning that I feel?
Hey, I believe what we called a game
Is more than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
Solo 1: michael
Solo 2: roland
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With the people, for the people, by the people. I crack up when I hear it; I say, with the handful, for the handful, by the handful, cause that's what really happens.
quote by Fannie Lou Hamer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
We live in days that have no time
We live in times that now refuse me
And somewhere out beyond his town
There lies a world that now can turn us round
And we need it and we need it
Oh got to have some thing to believe in
Ive got enough to believe in you
What can I give just to know that its true ?
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
But now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
We must believe things will go as we planned
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust,
With a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
Now I know where my fortune lies
Breathe the air and feel this land
cause its slipping through me
Like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
Give me
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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[Mankind] is governed by minorities, seldom or never by majorities. It suppresses its feelings and its beliefs and follows the handful that makes the most noise. Sometimes the noisy handful is right, sometimes wrong, but no matter, the crowd follows it.
Mark Twain in The Mysterious Stranger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A thought
She's never quite given her heart
to anyone but a few
and anyone but a few
have ne'er give their hearts too.
She's never quite given her trust
to more than a handful, I'd say
but more than a handful, for shame
never trusted her, she'd proclaim.
She's never quite figured out why,
or her reason or her gain
that she's given all her loyalty
while others, stray that way.
So this be ever so candid
and this be ever so short
for she cannot be arsed to explain it
or figure out why she ought.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
we live in days that have no time
we live in times that now refuse me
and somewhere out beyond his town
there lies a world that now can turn us round
and we need it and we need it
oh got to have some thing to believe in
I've got enough to believe in you
what can I give just to know that it's true ?
But I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
but now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
we must believe things will go as we planned
but I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust,
with a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
now I know where my fortune lies
breathe the air and feel this land
'cause it's slipping through me
like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A handful of good life is better than seven barrels of learning.
A handful of good life, is better than a bushel of learning.
Hardest Part of the Day
It's the hardest part of the day,
Saying good bye to you,
Over and over again,
Saying good bye to you.
I know you're busy, baby,
Doing the things you do,
But it's so very hard,
Saying good bye to you.
Sometimes I read your love letters,
Think of good times from the past,
Clear that what your letters said,
Was never meant to last.
I know when you love to much,
It can blow up in your face,
I waste the day in regret,
With a handful of faded lace.
I still hear those love songs,
That we used to play,
And it's still breaking my heart,
Watching you walk away.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Travellers change
Travellers change
~
Could we piece together a handful of change
gather the fare to catch a break
travel through the night if it helps save, us
you could always sleep beside me
while I sit awake and write my poetry
if I could scratch a living doing this
words paying our way around
so we could travel and eat everyday
forgetting the expensive hotels
a room with partial view is enough
when we have each other to talk to
maybe my words could scratch a budget
we have our legs, we have our health
we can walk to where we need to be
another place to sit and eat
some other view to look upon
a change is always as good as a rest
can we gather a handful of it today
to pay for our fair journeys break
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hail
the gloomy sky
all night cry
why, why, why?
because you died.
your life was
like the flies
flies, flies and dies.
poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More than four thousand programs produced and consumed. Some of them were pretty good, a great many of them were forgettable; but a handful may even be worth a book.
quote by Ted Koppel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Flies
Aint much time left in my life
I'm all stressed out time to fly
Im on my way
Im on my way
I cant let go
I cant wake up
Time flies...
Flies...
One more step and im falling off the mountain
One more pill who cares nobodys counting
They told me to sing it to the birds
Sing it to the birds
Noones listening
One more step and im falling off the mountain
The mountain sang to me
Love...
The mountain sang to me
Love...
Sitting up on this little bitty hill
Will i make something out of myself?
Sitting up on this little bitty hill
Will i make something out of myself?
I can't let go
I can't wake up
Time flies...
Time flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah (dont you know)
Time flies...
Aint much time left in my life
I'm all stressed out time to fly
Im on my way
Im on my way
I cant let go
I cant wake up
Time flies...
(dont you know time flies)
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Flies...
Flies...
Flies...
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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March Flies
Now comes the time when we douse flies
With various kinds of sprays
The sand flies, and the house flies,
And the flies with furtive ways.
But I keep my hate for the large flies
That come for the tree-lined creek
Those arch flies, the March flies
With a crosscut saw for a beak.
Now, most flies rouse in the autumn
From the summer's drowsy daze,
And they bite as nature taught 'em,
In various styles and ways.
They nip, or they stab or they burrow;
But the fly that knocks me out
Is the March fly, with the dull, dead eye
And a crosscut saw for a snout.
Now the house flies come to the table
Or busily play on the pane;
And our rage and heat they calmly treat
With the uttermost disdain.
And the buzz-flies buzz and blunder,
And the sandflies dig right in;
But my whole soul shrinks when the March fly sinks
His crosscut under my skin.
He's a sneak and an arrant coward,
And the lowest of low-down cows,
By nature ghoulishly dowered
With a weapon no law allows.
And it isn't the pain he gives me
Nor the blood he may chance to draw,
It's the loathsome way that he makes foul play
With his really terrible,
Most unbearable,
Horrible crosscut saw.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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'Urban Renewal' was sweet because I've been - unfairly, I would say - plonked in the middle of the road because of a handful of songs. It came at a good time for me, because you do take a bit of a browbeating and, as you get older, you become better at accepting it and realizing why it happens.
quote by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funny How Time Flies
Il me plait d'etre l avec tu.
Je ne sais pas ou ou le temps s'est enfui.
Oh je t'aime mon chri.
Funny how time flies when you're having fun
Ooh baby
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Oh baby
I don't know where it all went
Time passed us by
Just when it seemed the fun began
Ooh
Funny how time flies when you're having fun, please stay
Funny how time flies (please stay) when you're having fun, mmm
But time never ends
Let's find the time
To get together once again, someday soon
Funny how time flies when you're having fun, mmm, yeah, hoo
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Don't you ever leave
(Funny how time flies when you're having fun)
Don't you ever go
Say you love me so
(Funny how time flies when you're having fun)
Mmm
Funny how time flies when you're having fun
When you're having fun, yeah, hmhmm
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Je ne sais pas ou le temps s'est enfui.
Il me plait d'etre l avec tu.
I really don't know where all the time went
I really have to go
Stop, stop
Oh I really have to go
Oh, I really have to go
One more time?
Oh je t'aime mon cheri.
Ohoh, oh
song performed by by Janet Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like the Flies in Winter
like flies at the end of summer/we all slow down as age advances, as age, time and clocks advance/ the coming ocean of time/like London Bridges, we all fall down
Like flies in winter, near a cold white windowpane, who are slowing like molasses. Cold lonliness on one side/white paint chips on the other
Like flies in winter/flies in autumn, who are swimming throught the air in slow motion.
Not so much the flies of summer
godblessamen
like fireflies flickering in the end/we are here and we are gone,
we eventually burn out.
poem by Samuel Stuart Pennell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mid-September Sun
Dry and ripening:
sea flat and shining
like burning glass.
Gulls floating
like ducks on a giant's pond.
Small Coppers, Blues and Hairstreaks
playing
like blown leaves
in parched grass.
Victoria plums,
blackberries.
This is the turning
of the year
when all that is thought of as ‘there'
is found to be ‘here',
when harvests are collected,
lifetimes are inspected,
(next time's cosmic seeds selected)
and the traveller sees fear
in his handful of dust.
(In his handful of dust) .
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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