I must be honest. I can only read so many paragraphs of a New York Times story before I puke.

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The New York Times

Oh,
It makes no sense to me
Yeah, I was living in a different world when I heard the news
I keep having the same bad dream
And it makes me want to hurt all the people who have done this thing to you
When I see your face, I can see you smile
Read all about you in the new york times
When I see your eyes, I can see your light
When I think about what happened
It makes me crazy
It makes no sense to me,
This eye for an eye thing,
It has gone too far
I dont know anyone who doesnt hurt inside
I would like to believe we could learn from this
And maybe some day we can make things right
I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When you read between the lines
When I see your face, I can see you smile
Read all about you in my new york times
When I see your eyes, I can see your light
When I read about the world
It makes me crazy
I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When you read between the lines
Gotta read between the lines
Whoa, gotta read between the lines
I really want to believe I can make things right
I want to believe I can learn to feel alright inside
I want to believe I can learn to make things right
Oh, I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When I read the new york times
I see your face, I see your smile
Read all about you in the new york times
I can see your eyes, I can see your light
When I think about what happened
It just makes me crazy
When I close my eyes
You seem so alive
I really think about you
I want to believe we can make things right
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to believe
Oh, I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When I read the new york times

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Hard Times In New York Town

Come you ladies and you gentlemen, a-listen to my song.
Sing it to you right, but you might think its wrong.
Just a little glimpse of a story Ill tell
Bout an east coast city that you all know well.
Its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Old new york city is a friendly old town,
From washington heights to harlem on down.
Theres a-mighty many people all millin all around,
Theyll kick you when youre up and knock you when youre down.
Its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Its a mighty long ways from the golden gate
To rockefeller plaza n the empire state.
Mister rockefeller sets up as high as a bird,
Old mister empire never says a word.
Its hard times from the country,
Livin down in new york town.
Well, its up in the mornin tryin to fins a job of work.
Stand in one place till your feet begin to hurt.
If you go a lot o money you can make yourself merry,
If you only got a nickel, its the staten island ferry.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Mister hudson come a-sailin down the stream
And old mister minuet paid for his dream.
Bought your city on a one-way track,
f I had my way Id sell it right back.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
Ill take all the smog in cal-i-for-ne-ay,
n every bit of dust in the oklahoma plains,
n the dirt in the caves of the rocky mountain mines.
Its all much cleaner than the new york kind.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.
So all you newsy people, spread the news around,
You cn listen to m story, listen to m song.
You cn step on my name, you cn try n get me beat,
When I leave new york, Ill be standin on my feet.
And its hard times in the city,
Livin down in new york town.

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New York Times

Ohhhhh
It makes no sense to me Yeah
I was living in a different world when I heard the news,
I keep on having the same bad dream
And it makes me wanna hurt all the people who have done this thing to you
When I see youre face I can see you smile
Read all about you in the New York Times
When I see youre eyes I can see youre lie
When I think about what happened, it just makes me crazy
This makes no sense to me, yeah
This out for nothing it has gone too far
I dont know anyone who does not hurt inside
Id like to believe if you learn from this
Then maybe someday we can make things right
I wanna believe in this world,
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in a world that does not seem real when you read between the
lines
When I see youre face I can see you smile
Read all about you in my New York Times
When I see youre eyes I can see youre lie
When I read the words about you it just makes me crazy
I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in the world that does not seem real when you read between the
lines
Ohhh... I gotta read between the lines..
Wooaoh you gotta read between the lines
Wohhh yeah I really wanna believe I can make things right
I wanna believe I can learn how to feel alright inside
I wanna believe I can learn how to make things right
Ohh I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in a world that does not seem real when I read the New York
Times
I see youre face, I see you smile
Read all about you in the New York Times
I can see youre eyes, I can see youre lie
When I think about what happened, it just makes me crazy
When I close my eyes you seem so alive
When I think about you I wanna believe you can make things right
I wanna believe
I wanna believe
I wanna believe
I wanna believe
I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe
Ohh I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in a world that does not seem real when I read the New York
Times

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Hard Times For An Honest Man

One man does his work
Hes not satisfied not at all
Feels like that hes being used
His self respect starts to fall
His frustration
Runnin very very high he takes it out
On the ones he loves, because its safe
And who they gonna tell
And he hates that cold-bloodedness
That runs inside
Chorus:
Oh yes
Its hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Sister,
Shes got a lot of pride
You can see it when she walks into the room
But shes young
And shes unaware
Of what a brutal world can do to you
So she loves a man
He lies like a dog
Tears her little world all apart
So the walls go up
For the rest of her days
And there aint no man can touch this
Girls heart
Chorus:
Oh yes.
Its hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
So we walk
From the front porch to the back yard
Just to laugh and say hello and
Say goodbye
But some days are hard, like a
Soldiers steel-toed boots
And the rent we pay to stay here
Gets high
Chorus:
Oh yes.
Its hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times
Hard times, for an honest man
Very very hard times

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Bookworm

There's a story that like a dessert I love
And I enjoy every page slowly as much as I can
There's story that makes me desperate
And even my day becomes gloomy after I read
There's story that safe to be read anytime
And I don't mind if it's going up or down
There's story that could burn me to the core
And left me with desire to create another story
There's story that easily predict
And I could finish it without much thinking
There's story that has a very good cliffhanger
And I need to rush to the publisher to make it comes fast
There's story that goes like my dream
And I want to repeat over and over until I'm getting bored

poem by Maria SudibyoReport problemRelated quotes
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New York Times

New york poor new york
New york poor new york
Cars choking your child to death
But you dont wanna see
Cause you only think about yourself
How blind can you be
New york poor new york
Sniper on the rooftop new york
New york poor new york
Not fit for a dog in new york
Everybody bites on the big apple
Leave the hungry in tears
But no one gives a damn no one really cares
How they feel theyre just paper people not real
You need a gun to walk into new york
Now youre broke and youre out on a ledge
Who can help you this time
Now youre down to your very last cent
Still youre askin me who was your friend
I was your friend
New york poor new york
Who turned the lights out in new york
New york poor new york
Just another blackout in new york
Girl dead on the 26th floor
But no one knew her name
Found her body behind the door
Too young for the game
New york poor new york
Devils in the subway new york
New york poor new york
New york poor new york
Talkin talkin talkin - watch out
Harlem touching midtown new york
New york poor new york
Talkin bout new york new york
Moneys getting tighter new york
Theyre burning the bridges to new york

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Story Of My Life

The story of my life
is very plain to read
it starts the day you came
and ends the day you leave
The story of my life
begins and ends with you
the names are still the same
and the story's still the truth
I was alone
you found my waiting
and made me your own
I was afraid
that somehow I never could be
the man that you wanted of me
You're the story of my life
and every word is true
each chapter sings your name
each page begins with you
It's the story of our times
and never letting go
and if I die today
I wanted you to know
Stay with my here
share with me care with me
stay and be near
and when it began
I'd lie awake every night
just knowing somewhere deep inside
that our affair just might write
The story of my life
it's so very plain to read
it starts the day you came
and ends the day you leave

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Lacey said if he wanted to read a daily or regular critiques of the Bush administration, he would read the New York Times, and that's not what he wanted in the Village Voice.

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Will Rogers

Well, all I know is what I read in the papers.

Will Rogers in New York TImes (30 September 1923)Report problemRelated quotes
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Embedded

How can I write the story

of a battle fought and won,

when lying close beside me

Is the body of my son?

He was ordered to this field,

a place where his unit bled.

Wounded, left to die,

when even surgeons fled.

The sole object of my interest

Is this, my oldest son.

Does it matter Lee was beaten?

That the Union forces won?

All around me is death’s harvest-

for him, a fruitful one.

I will send you home to mother

and be cursed for what I’ve done.

The photographers are roaming

Through the fields of blood and gore

Taking pictures of the fallen.

They are bringing home the war.

(This is the true story of George Wilkinson, a correspondent for the New York Times and his son, Lt. Bayard Wilkinson, late of the army of the Potomac. It is based in part on the article he wrote for the New York Times on 7/4/1863. This day saw Lee defeated and retreating from Gettysburg and the fall of Vicksburg. It was the decisive turning point of the Civil War)

poem by John F. McCullaghReport problemRelated quotes
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Safe In New York City

(young - young)
Hello baby gimme your hand
Check out the high spots the lay of the land
You dont need a rocket or a big limousine
Come on over baby and Ill make you obscene
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
All over the city and down to the dives
Dont mess with this place itll eat you alive
Got lip smackin honey to soak up the jam
On top of the world ma ready to slam
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
Movin all over like a jumpin bean
Take a look at that thing in the tight ass jeans
Comin your way now you may be in luck
Dont you fret boy shes ready to buck
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
New york, new york, new york
I feel safe in a cage in new york city
2000, j. albert & son, pty.

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The Story Of My Life

Words and music by neil diamond
The story of my life is very plain to read
It starts the day you came
And ends the day you leave
The story of my life begins and ends with you
The names are still the same
And the storys still the truth
I was alone.
You found me waiting and made me your own
I was afraid
That somehow I never could be a man that you wanted of me
Youre the story of my life, and every word is true
Each chapter sings your name
Each page begins with you
Its the story of our times and never letting go
If I die today, I wannted yo to know
Stay with me here
Share with me, care with me
Stay and be near
And when it began Id lie awake every night
Just knowing somewhere deep inside
That our affair just might write
The story of my life is very plain to read
It starts the day you came
It ends the day you leave

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New York Morning, Glimpse of Beauty

Sunrise, and I read the New Yorker magazine
its poems not of the city, even might
have written them myself, it seems

The heat grows, I toss out the New York Times
Vade Mecum of commute, tired of the weight
of business and estate, pages that I never use

And now the New York streets, unforgiving
red-light-jumping cars, pedestrians running on
adrenalin and wheels, upending

all the slow, a boy on crutches
baby carriage
scattered in their haste

to steal a march upon
the New York morning sun
And even those possessed

of lifetime wage employment can't resist
the caffeine-driven New York state of mind
the traffic cops, tabloids and terror plots

I tell myself, look up, construction in the sky
precise design and accident, human-conceived
magnificence, the fragile towers, peaks

beloved Chrysler spire, a beauty glimpsed
at last, the New York windows to the sun
and clouds where passengers no longer fly.

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Wellcome

Tabloids, Henry Wellcome often said,
are better than a liquid or a powder;
by tabloids he meant not material read
in broadsheets, or the gutter press that’s louder
than New York Times or NPR, but pills
we tend to take unless we need injections
to get relief from all the pains and ills
that tickle tabloids’ major predilections.

Inspired by an article on the exhibition of the collection of medical memorabilia gathered by Henry Wellcome, exhibited at the Wellcome Collection at 183 Euston Road, London (Ed Rothstein, New York Times,1/29/08 ('One Man's Jigsaw Puzzle, Capturing an Odd Word') ,

1/29/08

poem by Gershon HepnerReport problemRelated quotes
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Love story

Love story
~
And somewhere it may be written
a love story not of fairy-tales
or a Hollywood blockbuster
neither the best selling novel
of some highly respect author
or a poetic sonnet which sings
odes to sweet undying passion
it is more simple, honest
a love story of modern times
which bypasses the ageless classics
and clichés of romance
it may not make you cry
but it still remains a love story
lacking high drama or duels fought
mistakes are made and learnt from
and the happy ending still awaits
to be realised and celebrated
but somewhere it is written
in diary or letter form
the love story to this poem

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The sea change that has come is the information age. We don't have to just read The New York Times anymore. We can pull up something on the Internet and get any news that we like.

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New York

In New York freedom looks like
Too many choices
In New York I found a friend
To drown out the other voices

Voices on a cell phone
Voices from home
Voices of the hard sell
Voices down a stairwell
In New York
Just got a place in New York

In New York summers get hot
Well into the hundreds
You can walk around the block
Without a change of clothing

Hot as a hair dryer in your face
Hot as a handbag and a can of mace
New York
I just got a place in New York

New York

song performed by by U2 from All that you can't leave behindReport problemRelated quotes
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A Heart In New York

New york
To your tall skyline I come
Flying in from london
To your door
New york
Lookin down on central park
Where they say you should not wander
After dark
New york
Like a scene from all those movies
But youre real enough to me
But theres a heart
A heart that lives in new york
A heart in new york
A rose on the street
I write my song to that city heartbeat
A heart in new york
Love in her eye
An open door and a friend for the night
New york
You got money on your mind
And my words dont make a dimes
Worth a difference
So heres to you new york
New york
Now my plane is touching down

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I Write With My Heart

I write with my heart
My heart on my sleeve

I'm open and honest
At lest I try to be

I never question
If you're wrong

I never think
You're a mistake

To me you're just human
Just like me

I am who I say
I am whom I write

My life story is here
With each stanza I write

People they ask
Am I really for real

Yes I say with pride
Read the story of my life

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For A Number Of Times

A joke cannot be laughed at
For a number of times.
A crime story cannot be read
For a number of times.
Must the spilt milk be rued
For a number of times?

poem by Rm. Shanmugam ChettiarReport problemRelated quotes
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