A Visit From Diotima lV
D God, what a mess! Everything's soaked!
MM Diotima, this was predictable.
D I'm so sorry. But, if you hadn't said those awful things. Hey,
I'm REALLY sorry.
MM Well, it's a little late for that.
D Where do you think all the water went?
MM Downhill.
D You mean....
(they look down)
MM Never mind. I'll call the insurance company when it gets light.
D Good thing Louise lives upstairs.
MM You can say that, again.
D Good thing Louise lives up-
MM Diotima! Did you have to wear those heels?
D They go with my outfit.
MM What outfit. You're barely wearing anything!
D It's hot. I dress for the weather.
MM On that premise, you should just go naked.
D So, what's YOUR excuse?
MM (realizes he is naked as Adam)
Oh, my God! Diotima, hand me that robe.
D (laughs) Relax. It's only me. This one, you mean?
MM Yes, that one.
(he puts on the robe. The downstairs neighbors pound at the door)
N Michaels, what's the deal? It's raining in our bedroom.
Open the door.
MM Sorry. I can't: company. Our water broke.
N Oh. Why didn't you say so. Should I call an ambulance?
MM I mean the bed's. The waterbed broke.
N What? Are you alright? Everything in our apartment's soaked.
This is not cool.
MM Sorry. I'll explain everything later. After I call insurance. Don't
worry. Everything will be ok.
N It better be. The walls down there are sweating big time.
MM Look, everything will be ok. Just go away.
N Whatever. See you tomorrow. I mean, later!
(he leaves)
MM Thanks alot, Diotima. All because of a dumb love-song.
D Don't be insensitive. Why are you so angry?
MM No particular reason.
D Well, I have to go now. Hong Kong. I'm sponsoring a young
poet, there, named Uli.
MM Is he any good?
D Um, you probably wouldn't like his work. It's very political.
MM Diotima...
D What?
MM Would you lock the door on your way out?
D Sure.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Visit From Diotima l
MM Diotima!
D Who were you expecting?
MM No one. What are you doing here? What time is it?
D It's only three. Sorry. I brought you my latest love song.
MM Diotima, you know I don't like love songs.
D That's your problem. Everyone else does. Move over.
MM Can't it wait till morning? Oof...be careful!
D No. It needs to be heard by moonlight.
MM The moon is on holiday. Back soon.
D You don't want to hear my love song?
MM Is it long?
D Not at all.
MM (sighs) Well, ok, then, shoot.
D I'm glad you asked. Here it is: Ready?
(sings)
'Our love is so unusual-
Different, different, different-
Different, different, so unusual...
MM Ah, Diotima...
D What? Do you like it? Then it goes:
(continues singing)
Unusual, different, very different-
Hey, you make me feel like throwing myself off a cliff...
MM Diotima!
D Different, different, different...
When I think of you, I...
MM Diotima, that'll do.
D Wait, here comes the best part-
(sings)
Different, different, different...
MM Diotima, it's three o'clock. The neighbors. There are laws.
D After ten, the laws are just suggestions.
MM You haven't met my neighbors. You haven't met Louise in 7A.
She'll think you're me.
D Good. We can invite her in. Does she like poetry, too?
MM Diotima, it's three o'clock in the morning! You'd have to be
Ovid, himself...
D Ach, poor Ovid. Did I ever tell you about the time we had dinner?
MM Unh-unh. What happened?
D Nothing! A big, fat zero! These love poets-all talk.
MM Diotima, inspiration aside, you can't just...
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Visit From Diotima lll
MM Easy for you to say.
(a pounding at the door. Shouting from outside)
L Hey, cut the racket in there, I'm trying to sleep.
Third time this week! Do you know what time it is?
One more peep, I'll rip your eyes out!
MM Sorry, Louise, really. It won't happen again.
L Right! I'm calling the super, tomorrow...I mean, today.
It's time this building got a little pest control!
MM It won't happen again, Louise. Sorry.
(she leaves)
D So that's Louise. She sounds like a mob of one.
MM Yeah. Now are you amused?
D I hope so-I'm a muse, after all.
MM I mean as in satisfied. Louise was pissed and it's your fault.
D Excuse me? I don't know what you mean.
MM You were singing a little loud. Given the hour.
D Oh, don't try to put this on me! Fine, when you need me around.
But when I need you-it's MY FAULT.
MM Ssh, she'll be back.
D Wuss! Ask me if I care.You might cope with your neighbors
if you had any balls!
MM Diotima, I think it's time.
D (standing up on the bed) Are you throwing me out?
I know my rights! (shouts) RAPA! RAPA!
MM Stop! And watch those heels. This is a water bed.
D The last one in the country! Why don't you get a real bed?
MM My back. Doctor's orders. Besides, I like it.
Now, if you'll excuse me.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Visit From Diotima ll
D Do you like it?
MM Hell, yes.
D What do you like about it?
MM I dunno. It's...different.
D The second verse reprises the first.
MM Oh?
D Check it out.
(sings)
'Our love is so odd, odd, odd-
Baby, oh, baby, oh, baby,
Odd, odd, odd, odd, odd! -
How do you like it, so far?
MM Well, English is a funny language.
But I like it-oddly enough.
If you could only not sing so loud...
It's after three, remember.
D What does it matter?
(there is a pounding on the ceiling)
MM It's Louise. You woke her up. Now you've done it!
She's Russian. She works for the Post Office.
D What a racket! What's she saying?
MM How should I know? She doesn't communicate in Morse code.
But she doesn't sound happy. Now, Diotima, that's enough.
I only hope she goes back to sleep.
D I wouldn't be intimidated, if I were you.
MM Easy for you to say.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Diotima 2 part one
'There, ' she said, clearing her throat,
shaking the hair from her face
and taking a sip of Aether-Aid:
'Now you have it. Your own sweet dream.
I hope you like it. Tell me it isn't
just what you wanted.'
'Like it? I LOVE it. Thanks, alot.
But I'm gonna' turn the light out now,
I'm kinda' tired and I have to get up early.
They're flying me to Albany.'
(I'd pulled a muscle at the gym and was in tremendous pain) .
'No, now! ' she said, turning the light back on.
'What's the matter. Do you think this was easy? '
'Absolutely not, ' I said, yawning and winding the clock,
'but it's a small plane.'
'Look how bright it is! '
'It's bright alright. Cure for blindness. G'night.'
I foresaw a quarter hour of fevered discussion.
Other men have girlfriends, wives, mommies. I have a muse.
'Have you listened to it? '
'Did. Cure for deafness. Good.'
'Should I turn it up? '
I sighed.
'We've been through this before.
The higher the volume the less I hear.'
'So you can hear it? '
My pulse raced. Dead art, indeed.
'Yes, it rhymes nicely, ' I remarked. 'Scans well.'
Voice-correct. Outlook-healthy, mood good
And not in the least political, thank God.
And not in the least religious.' Then, more critically,
'Actually, I rather like the time shift.'
'Yeah. And what about the adjectives? '
Um, ah, well, there don't seem to be any.'
'Exactly.'
'Well done. Congratulations. Excellent. A ten. Goodnight.'
I wanted to suggest she visit Phillip Larkin
but remembered he was dead and so probably wouldn't be interested.
'Diotima? '
'What? '
'XY is lonely tonight, I bet.
Why don't you run up and see him?
Hudson is beautiful this time of year. Very bleak.
There's a light on in his window, I'm sure.'
'He has house guests. I already checked. The benedictine is flowing.'
'I see.'
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Visit From Voltaire l
(bedroom)
MM Voltaire! What are you doing here?
V Rummaging your drawers.
MM What for?
V Je cherche un manuscrit. Something I'm working on. Have you seen it?
MM What makes you think it's here, cher Monsieur?
V No particular reason. It's called 'Candide'.
MM It's already been published. To great acclaim. Reprinted
countless times. But that was long ago.
V What? Oh, good. Pardon, my memory's not what it used to be. It used
to be prodigious.I used to know the entire Bible by heart. However,
there is no such thing as 'a long time ago'. The best human thought
is beyond time, and therefore, always new. Only the dull and
disinterested-or worse-believe otherwise.You select out what you
agree with, and call it memorable.
MM Well, excuse me! It's a master-piece, anyway. But, was it useful,
knowing the Bible by heart?
V I can honestly say it was. Are you sure it's not here, the manuscrit?
MM Very.
V So be it. But say, how do you know me? Have we met?
M Are you kidding? 'Candide'.'Zadig'. The'Dictionaire
Philosophe'. I read them all in under-graduate French.
V (sighs) I was afraid of that.
MM Besides, I'd recognize you anywhere. That outfit. That wig. Those
false teeth!
V (with mock-regret) Helas, dentistry has come a long way. How
I admire your science. Many of the things you take for granted were
unknown in my time. But what's wrong with my outfit? I wore it to
Sans Souci.
MM (laughs) Nothing's WRONG with it. But that coat. That color.
those stockings! Those heels. It's a hoot.
V (mock-offended) Whatever's the matter with baby-blue. And I paid
through the nose for these shoes, I'll have you know.
MM Relax. Only by our standards....
V...by your standards. Hmmph! I didn't know you had any. Not
that I'm any fan of standards, as such.
MM (changing the subject) Your English is so good! You have no
accent.
V Accents are for amateurs. Besides, I am a poet. We take these
things seriously.
MM Naturellement.
V Are you sure you don't have it, the manuscrit?
MM Quite. But it's an honor to have you here under my humble
roof. Can I offer you something?
V Like what?
MM I don't know. Something to drink?
V I don't drink...
MM either do I...
V...anything but champagne. It accounts for my longevity.
MM...coming right up.
V My friend the abbe invented it, you know, by mistake. And, if you had
any tea cake...
MM (firmly) Monsieur, you are a figment of my imagination. Do you think
it wise?
V Are you tempting me with abstinence?
MM Well...ah...
V...or tempting me with temptation?
MM Both!
V Good. Tea cake, then. I can resist anything but temptation.
MM Wrong play, Monsieur.
V What do you mean?
MM Never mind. I'll be right back.
(he leaves; Voltaire hums and looks around. He is
wearing a watch, which he taps)
V Stopped, again. Three o'clock. Hmmm. (listens) The best poetry
is silence.
MM (returns) Here we are! (he pops the cork, pours. They toast.)
Ecrasez l'infame!
V (lifting his glass) Whatever that means.
(they drink)
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Diotima
'Diotima', I asked, 'what is truth? '
'Truth', she said, is the operation of logic welcomed by Sentiment so long as it upholds certain foregone conclusions.'
'Well, then, ' I continued, scratching my head', 'what is Sentiment? '
'Sentiment', she said, 'is the conviction of the majority that its conclusions have something to do with the truth.'
'Oh. Thanks.'
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Greatest Story Ever Told
Moses come ridin up on a quasar
His spurs were jingling, the door was ajar
His buckle was silver, his manner was bold
And I asked him to come in out of the cold.
His brain was boiling, his reason was spent
His motto is nothing is borrowed, nothing is lent
He ask me for mercy, I gave him a gun.
He said these things just got to be done.
Abraham and isaac sitting on a fence
Youd get right to work if you had any sense
You know the one thing we need is a left-hand monkey wrench.
Gideon come up with his eyes on the floor
Said you aint got a hinge, you cant close the door.
Moses stood up above his six foot and ten
Said you cant close the door when the walls caved in.
Ask him for water, he poured me some wine
We finished the bottle and broke into mine.
You get what you come for, ya ready to go
Well, its one in ten thousand that come for the show.
Abraham and isaac diggin on a well
Mama came quick with the water witch spell
Well cool clear water well you cant ever tell.
Abraham and isaac sitting on a fence
Youd get right to work if you had any sense
You know the one thing we need is a left-hand monkey wrench.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Buy Me A Rose
(jim funk/erik hickenlooper)
He works hard to give her all he thinks she wants
A three car garage, her own credit cards
He pulls in late to wake her up with a kiss good night
If he could only read her mind, shed say:
Buy me a rose, call me from work
Open a door for me, what would it hurt
Show me you love me by the look in your eyes
These are the little things I need the most in my life
Now the days have grown to years of feeling all alone
And she cant help but wonder what shes doing wrong
Cause lately shed try anything to turn his head
Would it make a difference if she said:
Buy me a rose, call me from work
Open a door for me, what would it hurt
Show me you love me by the look in your eyes
These are the little things I need the most in my life
And the more that he lives the less that he tries
To show her the love that he hold inside
And the more that she gives the more that he sees
This is a story of you and me
So I bought you a rose on the way home from work
Opened the door to a heart that I hurt
And I hope you notice this look in my eyes
Cause Im gonna make things right
Im gonna hold you tonight
Do all those little things
For the rest of your life.
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Life and Love at Agathon's Symposium
Who among us knows the true origin of love?
Do we love to be whole, again?
Do we strive for loves embrace in hopes of once again becoming children of the Sun? or Earth? Or Moon?
Do we wish to, once again, bounce around the world as not two - but one?
Like in Aristophanes' story of the origin of love?
Can we come to understand that which dictates our earthly desires, here, in the palace of the poet?
What of love Socrates? What wisdom did Diotima entrust you with?
You - who would take you tale of resource and poverty to your grave, for you truly believed that with love - comes deceit.
What conviction - poor, lonely Socrates
In death, be we whole, or wise, or happy,
we allow the mark of our love to carry our name into immortality
Just as love - is immortal
poem by C.S. Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Why Should You Come When I Call
It's 1:30 in the morning
that's alright by me
you just waiting by the phone
I should give a little warning
but I need the things I need
I'm not proud to need a hand
but I just don't understand
So, Why should you come when I call
I never say nothing at all
why do I go, when I go
it's leaving me here all alone
You ought to get out on your own
ain't necessarily a bad thing
to believe the things I say
cause you can make yourself feel good
you know it's really not a good thing
to give everything to me
I'm just waiting for the show
cause I got no where to go
So, Why should you come when I call
I never say nothing at all
why do I go, when I go
it's leaving me here all alone
you ought to get out on your own
Cause nothing makes me feel so good
gets me high
so I sleep at night
and that's enough and everything
alright
I feel nice
so sorry in the morning
could believe what you believe
I'm used to waking up alone
And if you think about it
anyone you think about is a better love than me
but if you've not fallin' quite asleep?
I might call tonight
if that's alright
why should you come when I call
I never say nothing at all
why do I go, when I go
it's leaving me here all alone
you ought to get out on your own
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Sage Green Robe
I sit on my bed, and look across at my sage green towelling robe,
hanging on the back of the bedroom door.
Does he still 'fancy' me,
when I'm wearing it,
probably not,
it's not 'sexy', rather 'frumpy' really,
not at all an 'exciting' piece of clothing.
A dowdy bird,
dowdy and unheard!
I think that's me!
A 'new' me, must emerge from that robe.
A butterfly from a chrysalis,
A rose from a bud.
I think I need an overhaul, and a new 'robe',
like you see the 'famous' wearing,
in their 'penthouses'.
A glorious creation of satin and silk,
like flowing cream and milk.
Mind you, my towelling robe, hangs next to his towelling robe,
so perhaps we will do the same, and remain side by side,
and perhaps he loves me for other things than just being,
glamorous.
Hanging there, they look at peace with each other,
so I think I'll stick with my sage green towelling robe,
it cuddles me, just like he does!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.
quote by Jane Austen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Running For My Life
Running
Down the hall
The bell is ringing
I’m late for class
I’m late for life
Running
From this thing
This big, black, ugly
Swirling, shifting, changing thing
This thing that is everything
But is thin as air
Is really nothing at all
Running
From this thing
This thing I call “The Black”
That chases me
Seemingly
For all eternity
Running
From my past
Passing right by the present
Into my future
Into one of these doors
The doors that line the hall
The hall of life I’m running down
Running because I’m late
Running for my life
Running
Past these doors
One of them is the right door
The door through which I must go
Oh, how do I know
Which key on the jingling ring in my hand
Opens the door to my future?
The door to everything
I’ve ever wanted to do
Or be
The one door through which
That thing
The Black
Cannot follow me
Oh, look
Up ahead
That might be it
That door just screams my name
(But they won’t like that door –
It doesn’t fit their mold)
So what?
Who cares?
It’s my life
It’s my future
That door is me!
Now I’m
Searching
For the key.
Dont Mess Up This Good Thing
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing
Well, I think youve had a long time
To get your act together
Its your move and I hope you do the right thing
You know I never wanna lose you
But you must learn to play the game by the rules
Show me how much my love means to you
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing (what we have together)
Dont mess up, no baby
Well, forever may be
More time than anyone can offer
But all my time is spent in your corner
Heaven knows how much I love you
But if you think I can watch you play on me and understand it
Baby, youre taking far too much for granted
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing (what we have together)
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing (if you still believe)
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up, baby (no one can love you better)
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing
Got to find the right words to make you see
That you and I were meant to be
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess it up
Dont mess up this good thing
Well, forever may be
More time than anyone can offer
But all my time is spent in your corner
Heaven knows how much I love you
But if you think I can watch you play on me and understand it
Baby, youre taking far too much for granted
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing (what we have together)
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing (if you still believe)
Dont mess up this good thing (ooh dont mess it up baby)
Dont mess up this good thing (no one can love you better)
Dont mess up this good thing (sho dont mess it up)
Dont mess up this good thing (Ive got what you need)
Dont mess up this good thing
Dont mess up this good thing (what weve got together)
Dont mess up this good thing
song performed by by Janet Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Alright Guy
You know just the other morning
I was hanging around in my house
I had that old book with pictures of Madonna naked
And I was checkin' it out
Just then a friend of mine came to the door
She said she never pegged me for a scumbag before
Said she didn't ever want to see me no more
And I still don't why
I think I'm an alright guy
I think I'm an alright guy
Well I just want to live until I gotta die
I know I ain't perfect but God knows I try
I think I'm an alright guy
I think I'm alright
this one time from adicenal purposes they forced
me to smoke some dope
now im pretty sure sure i can still be the president
but i dont think ill ever get to be the pope
but I know get wild and I know I get drunk
It's not like I got a bunch of bodies in my trunk
My old man used to call me a no-good punk
And I still dont know why
I think I'm an alright guy
I think I'm an alright guy
Well I just want to live until I gotta die
I know I ain't perfect but God knows I try
I think I'm an alright guy
I think I'm alright
You know just the other night
The cops pulled me over outside the bar
When they turned on their lights
And they ordered me out my car
Man I was only kiddin' when I called 'em a couple of dicks
But still they made me do the stupid human tricks
Now I'm stuck in this jail with a bunch of dumb hicks
And I still don't know why
I think I'm an alright guy
I think I'm an alright guy
Well I just want to live until I gotta die
I know I ain't perfect but God knows I try
I think I'm an alright guy
I think I'm alright
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When I Was Your Man
(r.stewart/k. savigar)
I remember just like it was yesterday
A summers night, a small cafe
We laughed so much, we almost cried
Then I heard you say
I think Im falling in love with you
I said yeah, Im the same way too
I let you in
You danced inside this old heart of mine
Ive realized baby
You and I could never be
But I just wanna thank you
For the memories
When I was your man
When I was your man
When I was your man
Everything in my world
Seemed good and right
I remember each and every day with you
And every way I made love to you
The way you made each day special
God I miss you so
You made me dance, you made me sing
You showed me what happiness
Loving could bring
The way we spent last summer together
Seems so far away
Excuse me baby
If I sound a little blue
The best times ever had
I spent with you
When I was your man
When I was your man
When I was your man
Everything in my world
Seemed good and right
Im trying hard to carry on
But the thought of you still lingers on
The robe you wore
Still hangs behind my bedroom door
Your dress rehearsals
And schoolgirl pranks
Your saxophone lessions, your cowboy hats
The way we planned our lives together
Seems so far away
When I was your man
When I was your man
When I was your man
Everything in this world
Seemed good and right
When I was your man
When I was your man
When I was your man
Everything in this world
Seemed good and right
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Give It Up Or Let Me Go
Well I told you pretty baby
Such a long time ago
If I found you with another
Well, Id walk right out your door
Woh, you might call me crazy
Theres one thing you should know
Well, if you want me to love you, got to
Give it up or let me go
I know its useless to be jealous
I wouldnt tie you if I tried
When I think youre messin around my back
It sure brings a pain I just cant hide
Oh baby, Ive been true to you
And if I can make that sacrifice
Honey you can do it too
Well, you come home drunk and nasty
You wont tell me where youve been
Just when things are nice and sweet
Youre going back out again
Why do you want to mess up a good thing?
Im gonna find me another man
One who wants to give me everything
Well I told you pretty baby
Such a long time ago
If I found you with another
Well, Id walk right out the door
Woh, you might call me crazy
Theres one thing you should know
Well, if you want me to love you, got to
Give it up or let me go
Give it up or let me go
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dip It Low [Video Version]
Says he wants you
He says he needs you
It's real talk, then why not make him wait for you
If he really wants you
If he really needs you
Really got to have you
Take your time and feel him out
When he's a good boy
I mean a really really good boy
Why not let him lay with you
That's when you give it to him good
[Chorus:]
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
You getting bold
He growin' cold
It's just the symptoms of young love
Growin' old
You think it's time
And you're thinking of leaving
But give it time
It's late at night
He's coming home
Meet him at the door with nothin' on
Take him by the hand
Let him know what's on
If you understand me
Yall come on
All my ladies wind it up
If you know just how to move (mooove)
All my fellas jump behind
And show her what you want to do (show her what you got daddy)
All my ladies wind it up
If you know just how to move
All my fellas jump behind
And show her what you want to do (ouuuh..wouh ouh)
Dip it low
Pick it up slow (ohhh)
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo" (ima show you how to make him)
Dip it low (ouhhh)
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
We can move if you wanna
We can move if you wanna
We can mooove if you wanna
We can mooooooove...
Dip it low
Pick it up slow (slowww)
Roll it all around (ohhhh)
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing (yeah)
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke (come on come on come on)
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo" (ooooh)
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo"
Dip it low
Pick it up slow
Roll it all around
Poke it out like your back broke
Pop pop pop that thing
Ima show you how to make your man say "Ooo
song performed by by Christina Milian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Subbacultcha
This is a song about something there
There is something about this song
We did the clubs what ass
I was hoping to have her in the sack
I was looking handsome
She was looking like an erotic vulture
I was all dressed in black
She was all dressed up in black
Every thing was fine down here
What you call it here
Call it what you will here
Way down down down in this subbacultcha
Her warm white belly in the life Id lived had seen nothing
Finer she shakes and she moves me or something
Shes like jellyroll like sculpture
I was wearing eyeliner
She was wearing eyeliner
It was so good down here
Saving for my scrapbook here
Way down down down in this subbacultcha
Now we live on the sea and relax and ride the tack
Drug running on this panamanian schooner
She walks the deck in a black dress
And me I dress up in black
And we listen to the sea
And look at the sky in a poetic kind of way
What you call it
When you look at the sky in a poetic kind of way
You know when you grope for luna.
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!