All you hear Catholics turning out these days are pop versions of the old Protestant anthems.
quote by Richard Morris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer '79
Our last day of summer, 1979.
Gotta live it up one time before it's over.
We will make history tonight.
Out at the drive-in
all of our closest friends will be sneaking in.
You'll be spending your whole night
trying everything you can to get that girl to notice you.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
Down at the roller rink
all the cool kids crowding around the air-hockey table.
"Hey, my best friend likes you!"
I hear you shout at me as you go skating by.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
Sneak out of your window darling.
Let's live like outlaws honey.
We'll never look back.
Climb out on this rooftop.
And stare at the city lights below us.
This world belongs to us tonight.
The kids will keep raging on and they ain't ever gonna stop.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
pu the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
song performed by by Ataris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man of strength and wisdom, John Paul became an inspiration to generations of both Catholics and non-Catholics throughout the world by encouraging freedom, promoting peace and respecting all faiths.
quote by Greg Walden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Hitler came for the Jews... I was not a Jew, therefore, I was not concerned. And when Hitler attacked the Catholics, I was not a Catholic, and therefore, I was not concerned. And when Hitler attacked the unions and the industrialists, I was not a member of the unions and I was not concerned. Then, Hitler attacked me and the Protestant church
Martin Niemoller in Congressional Record, October 14, 1968
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Wheels
Ive been thinking it over
So many times they say
You got it made
They never understand
The answer lies within your soul
cos no one know which side
The coin will fall.
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning...
Save it for a rainy day
For when the cold wind blows
Just to see how they run
I thought theyd know
I tried my best, all I could do
But somehow it was not enough for you.
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning,
Turning, turning...
Chorus:
I remember the dead of night
A lonely light that shines upon the window
I see it all so clear
The tenderness, the silent tears
Out here in the pouring rain
Through cold dark waiting days
I see you standing there
I see the big wheels turning
Never ending, on and on they go.
I think Im going home
I think Im gonna have to start again
Its rather sad
Because Ive looked around, cant seem to find
Whatevers always rolling through my mind
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning
Turning, turning...
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have been represented as a Protestant minister; there was not one of the canvassers of the honourable gentlemen opposite that did not represent to the people that I was not a Minister of the Crown, but that I was a Protestant minister.
quote by Wilfrid Laurier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turning Japanese
Ive got your picture
Of me and you
You wrote, I love you.
I love you, too
I sit there staring when theres nothing else to do
Oh, its in color
Your hair is brown
Your eyes are hazel
And soft as clouds
I often kiss you when theres no one else around
Ive got your picture, got your picture
Id like a million of em over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Ive got your picture, Ive got your picture
Id like a million of them over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder its dark
Everyone around me is a total stranger
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger
Everyone
Thats why Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so)
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so...)
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If we get you in the early years of your life and we fill your head with all of the Catholic stories, then it's very hard for you to stop being Catholic. Catholics are Catholics because they like being Catholic.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Speed Of Light
So gradual in those summers was the going
of the age it seemed that the long days setting out
when the stars faded over the mountains were not
leaving us even as the birds woke in full song and the dew
glittered in the webs it appeared then that the clear morning
opening into the sky was something of ours
to have and keep and that the brightness we could not touch
and the air we could not hold had come to be there all the time
for us and would never be gone and that the axle
we did not hear was not turning when the ancient car
coughed in the roofer's barn and rolled out echoing
first thing into the lane and the only tractor
in the village rumbled and went into its rusty
mutterings before heading out of its lean-to
into the cow pats and the shadow of the lime tree
we did not see that the swallows flashing and the sparks
of their cries were fast in the spokes of the hollow
wheel that was turning and turning us taking us
all away as one with the tires of the baker's van
where the wheels of bread were stacked like days in calendars
coming and going all at once we did not hear
the rim of the hour in whatever we were saying
or touching all day we thought it was there and would stay
it was only as the afternoon lengthened on its
dial and the shadows reached out farther and farther
from everything that we began to listen for what
might be escaping us and we heard high voices ringing
the village at sundown calling their animals home
and then the bats after dark and the silence on its road
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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Gold-tipped Boots, Black Jacket & Tie
Im banered and bruised. I got lines I cant use.
My head wont deliver. well, Im sold down the river.
But Im turning again.
Yes, 'n Im turning again.
Well, Im turning again.
And Im turning again.
Wearing gold-tipped boots, black jacket and tie.
Well, Ive been second to none:
This horse was ready to run.
Now Im has-been and used:
Disarmed and de-fused
But Im turning again.
And Im turning again.
Yes, 'n Im turning again.
Im turning again.
Wearing gold-tipped boots, black jacket and tie.
Im egg over-easy
And Im washing-up squeezy.
Appliance for sale:
Fat wind in my sail
And Im turning again.
Yes, 'n Im turning again.
Well, Im turning again.
Yes, 'n Im turning again.
Wearing gold-tipped boots, black jacket and tie.
Well, Im turning again.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greatness
That man is truly great, and he alone
Who venerates, of present things or past
The absolute only,—is the liege of none
Save God and truth; who, awed not by this vast
And shadowy scheme of life, but anchored fast
In love, and sitting central like the sun,
So gives his mental beams to pierce and run
Through all its secrets while his days may last.
While thus progressive, little faith has he
For mysteries, till, sounding them, he hear
The gathered tones of their stirred depths agree
With that religious harmony severe,
Which ever anthems to his spirit’s ear
The hallowing presence of the Deity.
poem by Charles Harpur
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Metamorphosis
it is not the story of
the worm turning into
a butterfly
but it is really that
black hairy worm
eating a leaf
after days and days
turning into a butterfly
i do not have the right to hold it
i only have to see it
fly
away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hear....
i hear the cry of a thousand naked voices.
i hear the sound of the turning wheels.
i hear the guns, and the moment after,
i hear the blood of bodies in the fields.
i hear the cry of babies without mothers,
i hear the hunger of faces without names.
i hear the whisper of god in the homeless,
the hearts of the poor in the falling rain.
i hear the truth beyond all lies,
i hear the hand that takes another.
i hear justice's cry for deliverance,
and the prayer of the stranger that is my brother.
i hear the hammer and wings of freedom,
i hear equality chanted and sang.
i hear the beat of life calling forward,
to dare, to give, tis not in vain!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Murrow Turning Over In His Grave
All the sainted sinners
They pay handsomely
And eventually?
They make the weapons
And they run the prisons
And they sell the justice
Cause being guilty is
Just good business
And well be standing on
The borderline
Aint no one there gonna
Stop it now
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
Hes gonna turn wild
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
Hes gonna run wild
Half-closed eyes
And the countrys deadly
Do you feel the ooze as your brain drains out
From your pneumatic drills and sharpening knives
Blood in the sky
Are you dead or alive?
All the restless people and the bitter green
Well it fakes this gold, makes the spirit mean
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
Hes gonna turn wild
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Murrow turning over in his grave
Better watch out
Murrow turning over in his grave
Hes gonna run wild
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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'Til Kingdom Come
One... two...
Steal my heart... and hold my tongue
I feel my time... my time has come
Let me in... unlock the door
I never felt this way before
And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummer begins to drum
I don't know which way I'm going
I don't know which way I've come
Hold my head... inside your hands
I need someone... who understands
I need someone... someone who hears
For you I've waited all these years
For you I'd wait... 'Til Kingdom Come
Until my day... my day is done
and say you'll come... and set me free
just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me
In your tears... and in your blood
In your fire... and in your flood
I hear you laugh... I heard you sing
I wouldn't change a single thing
And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummers begin to drum
I don't know which way I'm going
I don't know what I've become
For you I'd wait... 'Til kingdom come
Until my days... my days are done
Say you'll come... and set me free
Just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me
Just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me
Just say you'll wait... you'll wait for me
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom in Faith
HIS MIND alone is kingly who (though one)
But venerates of present things or past
What he believeth good, kneeling to none
Save God and Truth! Who awed not by this vast
And shadowy scheme of Life, but anchored fast
In Love and sitting central like the sun
So gives his mental beams to pierce and run
Through all its secrets while his days may last;
And thus progressive, little faith hath he
For mysteries, till sounding them he hear
The gathered tones of their stirr’d depths agree
With that religious harmony severe
Which anthems to his spiritual ear
The invisible Presence of the Deity.
poem by Charles Harpur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Corn and Catholics
"What! still those two infernal questions,
That with our meals our slumbers mix --
That spoil our tempers and digestions --
Eternal Corn and Catholics!
Gods! were there ever two such bores?
Nothing else talk'd of night or morn --
Nothing in doors, or out of doors,
But endless Catholics and Corn!
Never was such a brace of pests --
While Ministers, still worse than either,
Skill'd but in feathering their nests,
Plague us with both, and settle neither.
So addled in my cranium meet
Popery and Corn, that oft I doubt,
Whether this year, 'twas bonded Wheat
Or bonded Papists, they let out.
Here, landlords, here, polemics nail you,
Arm'd with all rubbish they can rake up;
Prices and Texts at once assail you --
From Daniel these, and those from Jacob.
And when you sleep, with head still torn
Between the two, their shapes you mix,
Till sometimes Catholics seem Corn --
Then Corn again seems Catholics.
Now, Dantzic wheat before you floats --
Now, Jesuits from California --
Now, Ceres, link'd with Titus Oats,
Comes dancing through the "Porta Cornea."
Oft, too, the Corn grows animate,
And a whole crop of heads appears,
Like Papists, bearding Church and State --
Themselves, together by the ears!
In short, these torments never cease;
And oft I wish myself transferr'd off
To some far, lonely land of peace,
Where Corn or Papists ne'er were heard of.
Yes, waft me, Parry, to the Pole,
For -- if my fate is to be chosen
'Twixt bores and icebergs -- on my soul,
I'd rather, of the two, be frozen!
poem by Thomas Moore
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Turn To Me
Turn to me, Burning me, Turn to me, Burning me
From all the taking down,
To the driving far away.
As if we're lost and found,
Removing us everyday yeah.
Pushing things too far,
Or never moving it along.
Forgiving and forget,
Only makes one person strong.
Hoping and finding, resisting, denying,
Hey, with your classic words of
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
There's no familiar face, or a hand to cling upon,
We've walked a short distance, but it took so very long.
Hoping and fighting, resisting, denying,
With your classic words of
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Knowing that we'll jump a little too high to live
Knowing that it's safe, but not safe enogh to give.
Your heart, your dream, no give, no recieve,
Respect, believe, turn to me.
Turn to me, burning me
Turn to me, time to turn you off,
Burning, me, turn to me, resisting, denying.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Oh why don't you, why don't you, why don't you, why don't you, why don't you
turn to me baby, time to turn you off,
Turning me not burning me, turning me not burning me, now turning me not
burning me, yeahhhhhh.
Turning me, oh burning me now na-ba-dupa-ba-dupa-ba-dupa yeahhhhhh
Turn me, oh burning me, why don't you burn me yeahhhhh
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do,
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say,
When you're burning me, that's what you do,
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off!!
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Versions Of Me
Ten mountains stand tall
Nine seasons since fall
Eight eons of sand
Seven oceans began
Now there is none
No more light from the sun
Now waters run free
No more fish in the sea
One more name on the slate
One less minute to wait
Too busy to see two versions of me
One more bottle is dry
One less reason to try
Six feet underneath
Five fingers don't reach
Four seconds it seems for all of our dreams
Three oceans away
Two children at play
Too busy to see two versions of me.
[Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics]
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions
Will you be there when my world falls apart?
Will you be there to catch the crumbling of my broken heart?
Does the world keep turning when I’m gone?
Can god hear me screaming when I’m alone?
Can you die from a broken heart?
I’ll soon find out, because I’m falling apart
What happened to my days of sunshine?
The days when I thought everything was fine.
Does anyone care, about little old me
I think death is the only thing to set me free
I feel helpless and hopeless in a world I don’t understand
Why won’t anyone reach out and give me a hand
All the bad things that happen do I deserve?
God knows all the bad things, nothing’s on reserve
Does god hold wrong things I do against me?
If so than its straight to hell for me
Will the world keep turning when I die?
Will it keep on turning if I tell one more lie?
Erase the hate, the hurt and the pain
Bring back the sunshine and take away the rain
Does anyone care what happens to me?
When I die, it’s just something that will be
I feel like a burden to my family and friends
I wonder what will happen when this life ends
Is there only one way to love?
Can love be something else than just love?
It keeps me awake throughout the night,
Because it seems like I just can’t get it right
Its better to leap than to fall
Destiny is a thing that’s there for us all
I will take control, and determine mine
We will see what happens, it just takes time!
poem by Kayla Neil
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Christmas Medley
What child is this / do you hear what I hear /
Joy to the world
What child is this who laid to rest
On marys lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe the son of mary
(do you) hear what I hear (6x)
Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the sky shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song a song high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
So you know what I know?
In your palace warm mighty king
Do you know what I know?
The child the child sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world...
Joy to the world the lord is come
Let earth receive her king
Let every heart prepare him room
And heavn and nature sing
And heavn and nature sing
And heavn and heavn and nature sing
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(somebody gotta tell ya)
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe the son of mary...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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