I Can Feel..... (The Change Coming)
i can feel the change coming,
the dark swell of the clouds.
the rumble that shakes the streets,
i can smell buildings on fire.
can hear the planes,
the sound the bombs make falling,
the pulsing hate of the oil rigs,
the shuffle of money behind closed doors.
the wail of prayers in desperate churches,
the street dealer selling a loaf of bread.
the metallic sound of shovels digging graves,
the ignorant drone of great leaders.
the sound of boots on pavement,
breath shuddering through broken windows.
the silent stare of the angry and hungry,
the thunderous clenching of fists.
the haunted sound of chains and cell doors,
and riot squad bullhorns.
the tongues of truth cut from bodies,
the last cigarette lit.
the pounding hearts of the common,
black and white joined.
coming in waves, determined as one.
and the cries of the children...
always the cries...
held in the hearts as a beacon,
the reason to live and die!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Fogging Up The Windows
the sound of a small child crying
hungry in the night
of a young woman sleepless
waiting for daylight
the sound of church bells ringing
not too far away
the sound of an old man dying
remembering how to pray
the sound of two hearts breaking
a thousand miles apart
of the last tear a fallin'
unseen in the dark
the sound of lifetimes wasted
of a love that didnt last
the sound of memories forgotten
of a time already past
can you hear?
can you hear?
a lone tree a fallin'
a hoot owl callin'
life and death, a lover's breath
fogging up the windows
of an empty room...
fogging up the windows
of an empty room...
the sound of the nails driven
into His screaming hands
the sound of salvation
entrusted to a man
the sound of bodies falling
of buildings swept by flame
the sound of different voices
whose souls are the same
can you hear?
can you hear?
a lone tree a fallin'
a hoot owl callin'
life and death, a lover's breath
fogging up the windows
of an empty room...
fogging up the windows
of an empty room....
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Howl (The Returning)
black eyed, hungry teeth,
souls drawn tight through a needle.
displaced, desolate,
lives packed on borrowed trucks.
padlocked doors, Wall Street roars,
dead soldiers coming home.
street corners, somebody's daughter,
selling shadows wrapped in dreams.
religious freaks, hangman's noose,
dark glasses see only white!
Christians and Muslims, russian roulette,
hollow threats and doomsday lies.
starving children, doors locked,
faces turned away.!
oil rigs pumping, dry humping,
the earth screams, 'it's rape'!
protesters marching, riot squads,
take away your rights.
prisons full, hard degrees,
anger has a price!
lovers meet, passion burns,
scars left by point of change.
wild eyed addicts, guns in hand,
taking what they need.
the righteous wake, it's too late,
their enemies their brothers.
mountains crumble, trees fall,
rivers full of sludge.
war cries, patriot lies,
grease the grimy wheel.
suffocate, dedicate,
dead bodies to the ground.
faceless rise, tired of lies,
too damned hungry to care.
common folk, dressed in black,
lift unspoken prayers!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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The Day After Greed
walking the greying streets,
between the broken down
and vacant buildings....
through the alleyways..
concrete graveyards...
the hint of smoke hangs
in the air.... the stain of soot,
the taste of death... lingers....
i closed my eyes and saw
the bodies... strewn in the street
like trash blown against a fence...
eyes wild, faces contorted, ...
death, and it's brothers and sisters...
storefronts dark and ominous,
gas pumps stand alone like angry
sores, oozing into the emptiness.
great black birds fly, casting shadows
that search for tiny particles of light....
stray dogs roam in packs,
hungry for flesh!
only the sound of the great
oil rigs pumping in the distance....
an old tattered flag blown
by a cold infidel wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes

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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Desperate Ones
Jacques Brel, Jouannest, Eric Blau, Mort Shuman
They hold each others hands
They walk without a sound
Down forgotten streets
Their shadows kiss the ground
Their footsteps
sing a song
Tat's ended before it's begun
They walk without a sound
The desperate ones
Just like the tiptoe moth
That dance before the flame
They burn their hearts so much
That death is just a name
And if love calls again
So foolishly they run, they run, they run
They run, they run, they run, they run
They run without a sound
The desperate ones
I know the road tey're on
I've walked their crooked mile
A hundred times or more
I drank their cup of bile
They watch their dreams go down
Be hind the settin sun
Yeh, yeh, yeh, they walk without a sound
The desperate ones
Le he who threw the stone at them
Stand up and take a bow
He knows the verb "to love"
Beu he'll never, never, never know how
On the bridge of nevermore
They disappear one by one
Disappear without a sound
The desperate ones
And underneath the bridge
The water's sweet and deep
This is their journey's end
The land of endless sleep
They cry to us for help
We think it's all in fun,
They cry, they cry, they cry, they cry
Without a sound
They disappear without a sound
They walk without a sound without a sound
Disappear without a sound
Cry without a sound
Yai, yaj, yaj, yaj, yaj, yaj, yaj
The desperate ones
song performed by by Nina Simone

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Desperate Ones
Jacques brel, jouannest, eric blau, mort shuman
They hold each others hands
They walk without a sound
Down forgotten streets
Their shadows kiss the ground
Their footsteps
Sing a song
Tats ended before its begun
They walk without a sound
The desperate ones
Just like the tiptoe moth
That dance before the flame
They burn their hearts so much
That death is just a name
And if love calls again
So foolishly they run, they run, they run
They run, they run, they run, they run
They run without a sound
The desperate ones
I know the road teyre on
Ive walked their crooked mile
A hundred times or more
I drank their cup of bile
They watch their dreams go down
Be hind the settin sun
Yeh, yeh, yeh, they walk without a sound
The desperate ones
Le he who threw the stone at them
Stand up and take a bow
He knows the verb to love
Beu hell never, never, never know how
On the bridge of nevermore
They disappear one by one
Disappear without a sound
The desperate ones
And underneath the bridge
The waters sweet and deep
This is their journeys end
The land of endless sleep
They cry to us for help
We think its all in fun,
They cry, they cry, they cry, they cry
Without a sound
They disappear without a sound
They walk without a sound without a sound
Disappear without a sound
Cry without a sound
Yai, yaj, yaj, yaj, yaj, yaj, yaj
The desperate ones
song performed by by Nina Simone

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sons Of The Silent Age
Sons of the silent age
Stand on platforms blank looks and note books
Sit in back rows of city limits
Lay in bed coming and going on easy terms
Sons of the silent age
Pace their rooms like a cells dimensions
Rise for a year or two then make war
Search through their one inch thoughts
Then decide it couldnt be done
Baby, Ill never let you go
All I see is all I know
Lets take another way down (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Baby, baby, Ill never let you down
I cant stand another sound
Lets find another way (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Sons of the silent age
Listen to tracks by sam therapy and king dice
Sons of the silent age
Pick up in bars and cry only once
Sons of the silent age
Make love only once but dream and dream
Dont walk, they just glide in and out of life
They never die, they just go to sleep one day
Baby, I wont ever let you go
All I see is all I know
Lets take another way down (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Oh baby, baby, baby, I wont ever let you down
I cant stand another sound
Lets take another way in (sons of sound and sons of sound)
(sons of sound and sons of sound)
Baby, baby, baby, fire away!
song performed by by David Bowie

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Silent Cry
(Music: DirkschneiderKaufmannGianola - Words: DirkschneiderKaufmann)
Dancing in the daylight - all just been so fine
And heartbeats keep on going - all the time
Don't you hear the calling - don't you see the falling
All the cries
Can't you get the warning - how the pain is dawning
See the signs
When eyes don't see - and hands don't touch
It's all been a pack of lies
When hearts don't feel - it's all too much
It's just the sound of a silent cry
Just the sound of a silent cry
Crying in the moonlight - darkness closing in
I fear for the heartbeats - wondering
If we come together - is it so much better
I don't know
Why are we not trying - ending all the crying
Giving hope
[Bridge]
[Chorus]
song performed by by U. D. O.

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Sounds that should not be missed
Sound of blossom of a flower,
I desire to hear,
the sound of nature.
Sound of rain's glassy water drop,
over a roof's top,
the sound of joy.
Sound of beat of our heart,
through our ears caught,
the sound of wonder.
Sound of delicious supper in boil,
after a great day's toil,
the sound of hunger.
Sound of a mother's loving ballad,
hearing the cry of her toddler,
the sound of love! ! !
poem by Shyam Balaji

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Praying For Emptiness!
walking barefoot down the streets
of the holy city...
listening to the sounds,
the whimper, the cry, and the roar...
praying for emptiness....
the clock beats in rhythm
with the sidewalks and the walls.
the smell of burnt flesh
hangs in the air....
'Jesus Saves' painted on a fence....
oil rigs and chemical sprays,
fields filled with unmarked graves.
windows broken, doors sway, rusted hinges,
cars abandoned, vacant buildings,
dead bodies, eyes lost stare!
the spirits of the children
sing haunting and low...
words pierce like nails,
the birds hear and weep....
a hand gun, a needle, half pack of smokes....
nobody saves the night from the dawn!
praying for emptiness...
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Unemployed Boyfriend
This is going to sound a little obsessive
This is going to sound a little bit strange
I have one thing to say
Before I turn and I walk away
This is going to sound a little impulsive
This is going to sound a little insane
I know you don't know me yet
but you and I
we will be together
Someday
Someday
I know ... I know ... I sound like I'm on drugs
But listen to me now when I say..
That ever since I first saw you
Sitting on your car outside you asked for a cigarette
I couldn't stop staring at your eyes
Ever since when I first saw you
Looking bored in that plastic chair
With the lights of the office around you
Those blonde streaks
they look so pretty in your black hair
You look cool and alternative with that disaffected stare
You want people to think that you just don't care
Hey you can be with me 'cause I just might be the one
Who will treat you like you're perfect
Who will always make you come
You can be with me
I will always let you win
I will never be like those other guys
I will never be your unemployed boyfriend
This is going to sound a little bit out there
Yeah this is going to sound a little insane
But I keep having the same dream
That you will be the mother of my children someday
Someday..
I've heard you sleep with that obnoxoius guy
I know he is in that famous band
You look so sad when you are with him
I never see him reach to hold your hand
You can be with me
song performed by by Everclear

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Epilogue (Part Three)
shivering nails,
black and white coffins whisper.
bodies without heads,
strewn in the sand.
the taste of gunpowder
on my lips.
i bow, but cannot pray!
the sound of the oil rigs,
the coarse rhythm of greed.
take and destroy, take and fulfill!
the cry of sea life,
the gurgling choke,
soon to be the children
of flaccid men.
buildings like bodies,
stripped empty and bare.
the memories smell
of life that once was.
empty, and pulsing,
with the want of need,
no one hears the ghosts within.
hunger and homelessness,
heroin and Jesus.
the shelves are bare,
the mother's eyes are bleeding.
the nameless and unwanted,
cast aside in the storm,
while ghouls walk amid
the rubble of the lie.
sing for me, pray for me,
take my hand, take my hand...
even when i close my eyes,
i still hear, still feel,
the faces of the wind!
and god, if there be,
in each and every tear!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Law[Earthing On Fire]
I dont want knowledge, I want certainty
I dont want knowledge, I want certainty
I dont want knowledge, I want certainty
In the street a man shouts out loud
A wallet drops and money flies into the midday sun
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
Oh I get a little bit afraid
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
Sure I get a little bit afraid
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
I dont want knowledge, I want certainty
I dont want knowledge, I want certainty
In a house a man drops dead
As he hits the floor he sighs
What a morning
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
Sure I get a little bit afraid
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
With the sound, with the sound, with the sound of the ground
Sure I get a little bit afraid
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Oh I get a little bit afraid
Sometimes
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire
Earthlings on fire (I dont want knowledge, I want certainty)
Earthlings on fire (I dont want knowledge, I want certainty)
Sometimes
Earthlings (I dont want knowledge, I want certainty)
I dont want knowledge
song performed by by David Bowie

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Howl (The Returning, Part Two)
gods hate, too damned late,
you worship what you fear!
while buddhas whisper
behind hidden doors,
and leaves fall from trees condemned!
souls traded, manipulated,
for a loaf of bread.
childrens' bodies, wrapped in money,
never make a sound.
bought votes, sacrificial goats,
toe the party line.
buildings blaze, justice burns,
the bells of liberty chime.
the human hand rises from the rubble,
grasping at poisoned air.
the tears of those long since dead,
fall like nuclear rain!
love me, hate me,
see me with your eyes.
feel me, touch me,
treat me like a man!
voices lost neath stained glass windows,
only the memory of need.
the final blow, blamed on god,
the result of human greed!
while naked bodies walk dirty streets,
their holiness defiled.
the stranger calls, the light falters,
as we trudge the final miles.
the eagle screams, hot flesh dreams,
the child raised by wolves...
the only hope, human desire,
and the will to light the torch!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Do You Care? Do You Care?
there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
gunshots, bomb drops,
thunder splits the sky.
preacher on the tv,
says you're gonna die.
patriots, deviants,
doors ripped off the hinge.
children eating fathers,
freedom on the fringe!
equality, dignity,
slam the prison doors.
bodies in the ditch,
aint nobody keeping score.
nuclear rain, cocaine,
oceans full of oil.
god died, the president lied,
coming to a boil.
there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
black skin, white skin,
grated till they bleed.
angry men without hope,
taking what they need.
well paid lies, cut the ties,
glass figures stand in line.
love screams, shattered dreams,
the blind lead the blind!
trees cut, doors shut,
food stamps and day old bread.
schools closed, books burned,
hear the cry of the dead.
injustice rages, guilty pages,
we reap what we have sowed.
this world on fire, with desire,
the truth the final code!
there are people dying everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
there are people hungry everywhere,
do you care? do you care?
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Listening
listening... for the sound
your hand makes when it touches mine...
for the words your eyes whisper
when you laugh...
for the song your heart sings,
and the prayer your sleeping body
becomes, pressed against mine.
for the sound of the cicadas
chanting in drunken rhythm...
for the boiling of beans
in my grandmother's kitchen.
for the crush of the bat
driving the ball deep into the gap.
for the gurgle of creekwater
running o'er a melon wedged tight.
for the sharp crack of the gun
and the bullets whistling overhead.
for the cry of the hungry baby
and the slap against his mother's face.
for the clank of the leg irons
across a cold concrete floor.
and the wail of the widow.
for the song of the workers
bent neath the sun in the field.
for the speech of the visionary
who already smells like death.
for the pounding of the oil rigs
raping the earth without feeling.
for the lies of the politician
stealing the souls of the people.
for the sound of hate's fists
pounding the gay boy to death.
for the scream of raging empty
when they bring a mother's boy home.
for the sound of the door,
closing for the last time.
for the memory of an old hymn,
calling from beyond the river.
listening... for the moan of lovers,
bodies slapping in the night.
for the wild beating of a heart
dissolving nameless into mine...
for the echo of something more
than a drink and a feeling...
that needs to breathe, to run, to fly,
and to dance
listening
poem by Eric Cockrell

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The Sound Of The Atom Splitting
(lowe/tennant/lipson/horn)
------------------------
I hate you
I hate you
Nothing will ever be the same
Oh really
Don't be silly
I told you it was all a game
Whenever i see you or your work
It makes me feel like spitting
What's that noise?
Oh that
We've been expecting it for ages
It's the sound of the atom splitting
He's a villain,
Him over there
With a stocking on his head
Look, there's another one
They call themselves pinheads
What's that noise over there?
Is it the corrogated iron they're hitting?
No, no, it's perfectly normal
It's just the sound of the atom splitting
Whose side are you on anyway?
Is that some kind of threat?
Well, i suppose it will have to do
As long as you don't make too much mess
And would the last person to leave
- once you all finish kissing -
Turn the video on to record
You never know what you're missing
Bread and circuses
And maybe later
The sound of the atom splitting
Quiet at the back, please!
No whistling
It's the sound
The sound
The sound of the atom splitting
I hate you
I hate you
Quiet at the back, please!
No whistling
It's the sound
The sound
The sound of the atom splitting
It's the sound
The sound
The sound of the atom splitting
Oh really
Don't be silly
I told you it was all a game
It's the sound
What's that noise?
Quiet at the back, please!
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys

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Water On Glass
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Cascading down
Theres a sound vaporising into vision
Its a sound in my head
That I feel and it shuts me in a prison
Say it wont last
Say it will pass
Always the sound in my brain
Can you hear it
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Dancing away
Like the lights on a moving coloured river
Sounds in my head seem to run
And again I feel a shiver
Say it wont last
Pray it will pass
Always that sound in my brain
Can you hear it (can you hear it)
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
song performed by by Kim Wilde

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Shearing's Coming
There's a sound of many voices in the camp and on the track,
And letters coming up in shoals to stations at the back;
And every boat that crosses from the sunny 'other side'
Is bringing waves of shearers for the swelling of the tide.
For the shearing's coming round, boys, the shearing's coming round,
And the stations of the mountains have begun to hear the sound.
They'll be talking up at Laghmor of the tallies that were shore,
And the man who broke the record is remembered at Benmore;
And the yarns of strikes and barneys will be told till all is blue,
And the ringers and the bosses will be passed in long review.
For the shearing's coming round, boys, the shearing's coming round,
And the stations of the mountains have begun to hear the sound.
The great Orari muster and the drafting of the men
Like a mob of ewes and wethers will be surely told again;
And a lot of heathen places that will rhyme with kangaroo
Will be named along with ringers and the things that they can do.
For the shearing's coming round, boys, the shearing's coming round,
And the stations of the mountains have begun to hear the sound.
At last the crowds will gather for the morning of the start,
And the slowest of the jokers will be trying to look smart;
And a few will get the bullet, and high hopes will have a fall,
And the bloke that talks the loudest stands a show of looking small.
For the shearing's coming round, chaps, the shearing's coming round,
And the voices of the workers have begun to swell the sound.
poem by David McKee Wright

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