En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Arrivederci Lipstick

'After careful study and due deliberation it is my opinion the head remains conscious for one minute and a half after decapitation.'
-Dr. Dassy d'Estaing,1883

The ax whistled down, my head
tumbled off, twirled through the air, landed

between my wife’s ankles. I looked up
her skirt: one last glimpse at those alabaster

chimneys. What good will the word “thigh” do me
where I’m going, I wondered, as I stared

at the red door of her panties, the brass knocker
that I installed one rainy morning

when we were young and in love. Good-bye
little red door I used to walk through

after a long day at the office and say, “honey,
I’m homeopathic.” I wanted to apply

arrivederci lipstick, plant one last kiss
on the soil, hope it bloomed into something

useful, then Janey snatched me up by the hair,
yelling “the putty’s not so silly anymore,

is it, mister marmalade? ” The last thing
I remember: being punted high through the air,

a squirrel squinting on a tree trunk,
the house getting smaller, a blue bird

poem by Jeffrey McDaniel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A glimpse

a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe

inspired by

A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coffee

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.

poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Knowing Of A Tree

It is a good thing indeed
When someone plants a seed
And to watch and help it grow
So someday, it to be a tree.
It is a good thing in truth
When a tree brings forth its fruit
Or to shade someone's head
Or its branch be a robins nest.
It is good when a tree is used
By nature, or by me or you
To protect or shelter lives
For a tree; it never dies.
A tree is someone's home
A tree is someone's good book
A tree is never alone,
For to know a tree, all you do; is look.
It is good to plant a tree
It is good to plant a seed
For someday it will be grown
And a tree, will be known.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Betrothal

Oh, come, my lad, or go, my lad,
And love me if you like.
I shall not hear the door shut
Nor the knocker strike.
Oh, bring me gifts or beg me gifts,
And wed me if you will.
I'd make a man a good wife,
Sensible and still.
And why should I be cold, my lad,
And why should you repine,
Because I love a dark head
That never will be mine?

I might as well be easing you
As lie alone in bed
And waste the night in wanting
A cruel dark head.

You might as well be calling yours
What never will be his,
And one of us be happy.
There's few enough as is.

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake

I
My Paistin Finn is my sole desire,
And I am shrunken to skin and bone,
For all my heart has had for its hire
Is what I can whistle alone and alone.
Oro, oro.!
Tomorrow night I will break down the door.
What is the good of a man and he
Alone and alone, with a speckled shin?
I would that I drank with my love on my knee
Between two barrels at the inn.
Oro, oro.!

To-morrow night I will break down the door.
Alone and alone nine nights I lay
Between two bushes under the rain;
I thought to have whistled her down that
I whistled and whistled and whistled in vain.
Oro, oro!
To-morrow night I will break down the door.

II
I would that I were an old beggar
Rolling a blind pearl eye,
For he cannot see my lady
Go gallivanting by;
A dreary, dreepy beggar
Without a friend on the earth
But a thieving rascally cur --
O a beggar blind from his birth;
Or anything else but a rhymer
Without a thing in his head
But rhymes for a beautiful lady,
He rhyming alone in his bed.

poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint It Black

I see a red door and I want it painted black,
No colors anymore I want them to turn black.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes,
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black,
With flowers and my love, both never to come back.
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away,
Like a new born baby it just happens ev'ry day.
I look inside myself and see my heart is black,
I see my red door and I want it painted black.
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts,
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black.
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue,
I could not forsee this thing happening to you.
If I look hard enough into the setting sun,
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes.
I see a red door and I want it painted black,
No colors anymore I want them to turn black.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes,
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
I wanna see your face painted black, black as night.
Don't wanna see the sun flyin' high in the sky.
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black, yeah!

song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad For Good

BAD FOR GOOD
Music: Rudolf Schenker
Lyrics: Klaus Meine, Dieter Dierks
Bad for good
She tells it like it is
The french word of a kiss
She's so bad for good to me
She's so bad for good
She wants more of this
You can feel it with a kiss
She's as bad as she can be
The thoughts in my head
Where would they be going ?
Seems to me
It's a tough call for one to imagine
They're saying they do when I win
I look in the mirror
Reflect from the ceiling
She wears next to nothin
Next to nothin but only
A touch of perfume on her skin, oh yeeeaaaahhhhh
She's so bad for good
She tells it like it is
The french word of a kiss
She's so bad for good to me
She's so bad for good
She wants more of this
You can feel it with a kiss
She's as bad as she can be
She's so bad for good
She tells it like it is
The french word of a kiss
She's so bad for good to me
She's so bad for good
She wants more of this
You can feel it with a kiss
She's as bad as she can be
If those were my fingers
What would they be doing
Is pouring along
From head to toe like a stranger
To be once again lost and found...yeeeaaaahhhhh
She's so bad for good
She tells it like it is
The french word of a kiss
She's so bad for good to me
She's so bad for good
She wants more of this
You can feel it with a kiss
She's as bad as she can be
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
She's so bad for good
Bad for good
Bad for good
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walk Away

A downtown cafe Saturday evenin' and the
place is about to be closed I'm meeting my baby
yeah and order my hundreath cup of coffee today
My hands are shakin'

At half past seven I'm sittin here waitin' for
my boy all alone for too long It's after eleven
yeah I'm tired of waitin' and I'm gonna go home
cause I don't need this

You never think twice before you break all the rules
you gotta be crazy if you think I'm a fool

[CHORUS:]
I'll walk away and say good bye
If you don't want me anymore
I've bot my pride
I'll walk away and say good bye
if I don't get the love we had before
not satisfied

He finally gets here I'm waitin' for him to ask me
why there's a frown on my face He orders a
cold beer he has an excuse about his car
breakin' down but I don't buy it
You're givin' me sometin' I don't need anymore
Just gimme the word and I'll be slammin' the door

[CHORUS]

His best intentians are never the same as what
he does of the end of the day. I'm feelin' the
tension yeah Don't gimme no reasons cause you
don't comprehend what am I feelin'
You never think twice before you break all the rules
You gotta be crazy if you think I'm a fool
You're givin' me somethin' I don't need anymore
Just gimme the word and I'll be slammin' the door

[CHORUS]

So tell me now Just say the word
It won't be long
I'll be long long gone...

song performed by by Alanis Morissette from Alanis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bird

(9/15/12)

I saw a bird perched on a tree
I looked at him and he looked at me.
The strangest bird that I ever did see
He had a tail about four inches long
With that body it did not belong.

He had a body smaller than a sparrow
With a beak long and narrow.
He made a sound that I never heard
Not like one you'd hear from a bird.

It was not like the sounds of a love bird
Canary, or cockatoo, but a soft whistle
Which filled the air, and with all
Living things it wanted to share.

It was like a hypnotic sound
And turned my head completely around.
His soft whistling cry was like
A call to the wild
Brought flocks of birds
Of every color and style.

Landing on every branch of the tree
And left no empty space that I could see.
This was the most beautiful sight that
I had ever saw, and I knew
I will see it no more.

© L. RAMS

poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Good Year For The Roses

I can hardly bear the sight of lipstick
On the cigarettes there in the ashtray
Lyin' cold the way you left 'em,
But at least your lips caressed them
While you packed
Or the lip-print on a half-filled cup of coffee
That you poured and didn't drink
But at least you thought you wanted it,
Tat's so much more than I can say for me
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin'
Funny I don't even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
It's been a good year for the roses
After three full years of marriage,
It's the first time that you haven't made the bed
I guess the reason we're not talkin',
Tere's so little left to say we haven't said
While a million thoughts go racin' through my mind
I find I haven't said a word
From the bedroom the familiar sound
Of a baby's cryin' goes unheard
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin'
Funny I don't even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
It's been a good year for the roses

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Would I Be Now

By tony joe white and michael mcdonald
Something deep inside, keeps me hangin on
Dont believe Ive ever seen a night so long
Guess I tried to fly high above the clouds
But I landed here in the mornin rain at your door
And I know I let you down again
But right now you know I need a friend
I dont know why
I guess I just lose my way
And your eyes dont believe a word I say
I cant imagine without your love
Where would I be now
Did you ever know
I always looked up to you
And after all this time it remains true
Theres no compromise
No turning back for me
But through the vail of my pride
Sometimes its hard to see
And I know your love is all I need
So when I fall dont stop believing in me
cause your love is whats helpin me survive
Your faith in me is what keeps my hope alive
And without your love
Where would I be now
Well I know your love is worth fightin for
And if it takes forever I will wait at your door
cause your love is whats helpin me survive
Your faith in me is what keeps my hope alive
And without your love
Where would I be now

song performed by by Michael Mcdonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Year For The Roses

I can hardly bear the sight of lipstick on the cigarettes there in the ashtray
Lyin cold the way you left em, but at least your lips caressed them while
You packed
Or the lip-print on a half-filled cup of coffee that you poured and didnt drink
But at least you thought you wanted it, thats so much more than I can say
For me
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin
Funny I dont even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
Its been a good year for the roses
After three full years of marriage, its the first time that you havent
Made the bed
I guess the reason were not talkin, theres so little left to say we
Havent said
While a million thoughts go racin through my mind, I find I havent said a word
>from the bedroom the familiar sound of a babys cryin goes unheard
What a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowin
Funny I dont even care
As you turn to walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
Its been a good year for the roses

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell to the Farm

The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children, mounting fast
And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

To house and garden, field and lawn,
The meadow-gates we swang upon,
To pump and stable, tree and swing,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

And fare you well for evermore,
O ladder at the hayloft door,
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last, round the woody turn we sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Courting Disaster

I was twenty-three when I saw her first,
Without a word of a lie,
She had wandered into the woods by me
With a basket, held on high,
Her auburn hair reflected the sun
And she flashed me a dazzling smile,
That turned my head to the way she led
As I followed her, over the stile.

She skipped along at a steady pace
Weaved in and out through the trees,
Collected the broad-rimmed mushrooms there
As she stopped, and fell to her knees,
Her dress flared out as it caught the wind
And her hair was floated wide,
I hid by a tree, and held my breath
As I thought of her, as a bride.

She had such a look of innocence,
Was free as the birds of the air,
The legs and the grace of a peasant girl
Brought up in the great out-there,
She ran right up to a Woodsman's house
That was hidden by branch and vine,
Then danced right in through the open door,
And then I knew; she was mine!

The door was closed when I finally knocked
But I heard a terrible moan,
And minutes later the door unlocked,
In the hall stood a fusty crone,
She stared at me through her hoary eyes
With never a hint of grace,
‘What do you want? ' she growled at me,
For the shock must have shown in my face.

‘That girl, who danced in a moment back,
I'm here to discover her name.'
‘There is no girl, ' said the ancient hack,
‘You'd better return where you came! '
‘I saw her enter, I must insist,
I'll not be gulled by your lies! '
‘That girl's been dead for a long time back,
You'd better leave now, if you're wise! '

She slammed the door in my face just then
So I wandered back through the trees,
A raincloud covered the midday sun
And I felt the chill of a breeze,
The rain came down as I walked back home,
Climbed over the ricketty stile,
Was drenched to the skin as I wandered in,
And thought to resort to guile.

For days I lingered by that old track,
The place that I'd seen her first,
I felt so miserable, holding back,
As I thought, and feared for the worst,
What if the girl was a sprite, who'd died,
Just as the old crone said?
Try as I might, I couldn't believe,
Nor get her out of my head.

I finally went to the Woodsman's house
And I hid in a patch by the vine,
When suddenly out of the door came tripping
The girl, with her eyes a-shine,
She skipped away with her basket, filled
With linen and loaves and cheese,
And I caught her then in a shady glade
As she stopped, and fell to her knees.

‘I hoped you'd come, ' were the words she said
As she laid a cloth on the ground,
‘I have to hide from that grey old witch
So I go where I'll never be found.'
She broke the bread and she poured the wine
And we ate and drank in the glade,
My mind was filled with a sudden chill
But I thought of fun in the shade.

‘So when are you going to kiss me, then? '
She said when we finished our feast,
‘I've fed your animal spirits, now,
It's time I was paid, at least! '
I kissed her there in the shady glade
And we tumbled there in the leaves,
Then I fell asleep, and she'd gone when I
Awoke, and the heart, it grieves.

I stumbled home, but was feeling faint
I had aches and pains in my head,
I staggered through to the bedroom, then
I found her asleep in my bed,
She woke and sat, and she stared at me
But her face had begun to change,
There were lines and wrinkles around her eyes
And her hair was grey with age.

‘I need you now that my time is short,
Come and rest your weary head, '
I caught a glimpse in the mirror then
And it filled me full of dread,
For the face of a man of middle age
Stared back at me from the glass,
‘Just what have to done to me? ' I said…
‘Do you really have to ask? '

‘I fed on your animal needs, and you
Gave something to set me free,
If you want me to be a bright young thing
Then you must replenish me.'
I saw she aged by the minute there
And she soon let out a moan,
For lying in bed was a figure of dread,
That hoary old witch, the crone!

I'm far too weak to get out of bed,
But Elli goes out on her own,
She carries her basket into the wood
For the mushrooms she eats alone,
My beard is grey and I dread each day
As she bleeds my life from its core,
But she's as lovely as ever she was
At a hundred and twenty-four!

26 October 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Day

You are my weakness, you are my strength
Nothing i have in the world makes better sense
Cause i'm a fish and you're the sea
When we're together or when we're apart
There's never a space in between the beat of our hearts
Cause i'm the apple and you're the tree
One day at a time is all we do
One day at a time is good for you
You are my woman, i am your man
Nothing else matters at all, now i understand
That i'm the door and you're the key
Every morning i wake in your smile
Feeling your breath on my face and the love in your eyes
Cause you're the honey and i'm the bee
One day at a time is all we do
One day at a time is good for us too (you too)
Cause i'm the fish and you're the sea
Cause i'm the apple and you're the tree
Cause i'm the door and you're the key
Cause you're the honey and i'm the bee

song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Odd Love Story

Fall came early that year, the north westerly blew there was sadness
in the air, I just knew something was not right. It was on a day like this
my wife said she wanted a divorce, and she had already worked out
the details of the settlement, I could keep our log cabin. She knew me
so well it was the only thing I wanted. My wife is keen athlete she
likes to run and go skiing, it was only natural that she married the man
who runs a sports shop. My exercise is to get up from my typewriter
walk into to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee.
A rare beautiful winter day, blue sky and pale sun, there was a knock
on my door, I opened saw her green Volvo disappearing down the lane;
by the door a bag of cooked food and jam. And twice a week she does
this, but now I wait till her car has disappeared. “Love and cherish...”
she is a good catholic, takes her promises seriously. In summers, she
runs past my house, looks straight ahead and I pretend not to see her,

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Michael Picasso

(ian hunter)
(transcribed by justin purington)
Once upon a time
Not so long ago
People used to stand and stare
At the spider with the platinum hair
They thought you were immortal
We had our ups and downs
Like brothers often do
But I was there for him
He was always there for me
And we were there for you
How can I put into words
What my heart feels?
Its the deepest thing
When somebody you love dies
I just wanted
To give something back to you
Gift to gift
Michael, michael picasso good night
You used to love our house
You said it was relaxing
Now I walk in the places you walk
I talk in all the spaces you talk
It still hasnt sunk in
Are the words real
That come into my head
On a morning walk?
Do the shadows
Play tricks with my mind?
For it feels like
Nothing has changed
But I know it has
Michael, michael picasso
Good night
Heal me
Wont you
Heal me?
Nothing lasts forever
Set me free
Heal me
Wont you
Heal me?
Im the one whos left here
Heal me
Heal me
Heal me
You turned into a ghost
Surrounded by your pain
And the thing that I liked the least
Was sitting round hasker street
Lying about the future
And we all sit
In a room full of tears
On a windy day
And I looked out
But none of these words seem right
I just wanted
To give something back to you
Gift to gift
Michael, michael picasso
Good night

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Only The Dog

They dont write songs like that anymore!
You turn me off, and then you leave me in here
And then Im scratching at, your door, begging you for, some more
You make me hide, so your friends can come inside, and tell me to be quiet
I make some noise and I hear this haggled voice yelling hey whats the riot?
And I hear you say...
Its only the dog
Or maybe the cat
Or maybe the bird
Uh huh honey its only me
He jumps off, his chair, said Im a gonna look in there
My heart hits, the floor, as he came toward the door
He opened up to see, and fortunately for me, I resembled sherpa jacket
He closed the door, admitted he was wrong, about all the racket
Then I heard you say...
Its only the dog
Or maybe the cat
Or maybe its that bird
Uh huh honey its only me
Finally, your friends, say theyre gonna be goin
Couldnt wait to hear, hey, you come out now boy, its all clear
Gave me the sign, I was out in record time, but to my surprise
From under the bed came my friend ed
From behind the drapes came cousin and along with the guys
Now what you gonna say?
Its only the dog
Or maybe the cat
Or maybe its that bird
Uh huh honey its only me

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint It Black

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and theyre all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby it just happens evryday
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not forsee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm...
I wanna see it painted black, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah

song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World Gone Wrong

1. strange things have happened, like never before.
My baby told me I would have to go.
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.
2. feel bad this morning, aint got no home.
No use in worrying, cause the world gone wrong,
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.
3. I told you, baby, right to your head,
If I didnt leave you I would have to kill you dead.
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.
4. I tried to be loving and treat you kind,
But it seems like you never right, you got no loyal mind.
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.
5. if you have a woman and she dont treat you kind,
Praise the good lord to get her out of your mind.
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.
6. said, when you been good now, cant do no more,
Just tell her kindly, there is the front door.
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.
7. pack up my suitcase, give me my hat,
No use to ask me, baby, cause Ill never be back.
I cant be good no more, once like I did before.
I cant be good, baby,
Honey, because the worlds gone wrong.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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