En.Citatepedia^®.ro

To Mrs. Newton

A noble theme demands a noble verse,
In such I thank you for your fine oysters.
The barrel was magnificently large,
But, being sent to Olney at free charge,
Was not inserted in the driver's list,
And therefore overlook'd, forgot, or miss'd;
For, when the messenger whom we despatch'd
Inquir'd for oysters, Hob his noddle scratch'd;
Denying that his wagon or his wain
Did any such commodity contain.
In consequence of which, your welcome boon
Did not arrive till yesterday at noon;
In consequence of which some chanc'd to die,
And some, though very sweet, were very dry.
Now Madam says, (and what she says must still
Deserve attention, say she what she will,)
That what we call the diligence, be-case
It goes to London with a swifter pace,
Would better suit the carriage of your gift,
Returning downward with a pace as swift;
And therefore recommends it with this aim--
To save at least three days, -- the price the same;
For though it will not carry or convey
For less than twelve pence, send whate'er you may,
For oyster bred upon the salt sea-shore,
Pack'd in a barrel, they will charge no more.

News have I none that I can deign to write,
Save that it rain'd prodigiously last night;
And that ourselves were, at the seventh hour,
Caught in the first beginning of the show'r;
But walking, running, and with much ado,
Go home -- just time enough to be wet through,
Yet both are well, and, wond'rous to be told,
Soused as we were, we yet have caught no cold,
And wishing just the same good hap to you,
We say, good Madam, and good Sir, adieu.

poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oysters

Charming oysters I cry:
My masters, come buy,
So plump and so fresh,
So sweet is their flesh,
No Colchester oyster
Is sweeter and moister:
Your stomach they settle,
And rouse up your mettle:
They'll make you a dad
Of a lass or a lad;
And madam your wife
They'll please to the life;
Be she barren, be she old,
Be she slut, or be she scold,
Eat my oysters, and lie near her,
She'll be fruitful, never fear her.

poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Done Somebody Wrong

The barrel-house told me, my baby caught that train n gone
The barrel-house told me, my baby caught that train n gone
It was all my fault, I musta did somebody wrong.
Everything that happens, you know I am to blame.
Everything that happens, you know I am to blame.
Im gonna find myself a doctor, perhaps my luck will change.
Ah, my mamma she told me, these days will surely come.
I wouldnt listen to her, had to have my fun.
The barrel-house told me, my baby caught that train n gone.
But its all my fault, I musta done somebody wrong, oh yeah.
The barrel-house told me, my baby caught that train n gone
The barrel-house told me, my baby caught that train n gone
It was all my fault, I musta did somebody wrong. oh play the blues...

song performed by by Allman Brothers Band, music by Elmore James (1960)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good day Sir

Good day sir,
Is what I say.
Good day madam,
He says back.
We stop,
To speak.
How are you,
I say.
good
You,
He asked.
I'm very good,
Thank you,
I say.
We apologize to chat for a few minutes,
Before I say
Have a good day, sir.
He says back,
You too.
We go our own way,
And have good days.
We're dying on the same day,
And are buried side by side.
Good day sir,
I say when we meet.
Good day madam,
He says back.

poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Titles And Respect

I am told often
(all that,
presumably, to nurture some sophistication in me)
that one must address people with an apt title
or salutation:
Sir, Miss, Mr, Mrs, Lady, Guru,
Your Majesty, Most Revered Sir;
Most Holy Representative of God;
Mr President I Kiss Your Feet;
God Almighty,
Dr, Professor, Most Reverend, Your Highness …
and the likes;
this, I am advised (or warned as the case may be) ,
shows one’s respect
but what I cannot fathom in my simplicity is
if it is the case that I have no respect for a kangaroo
if I simply call it joey
which simply anyway crawls back to its mum’s teats;
and if a child laughs and speaks to me with no titles
but simply with a: Hi, my ball is in your yard;
could you throw it over the fence, please? -
and likewise I do not throw a title at the child,
are the two of us - child and neighbor - guilty of disrespect?
and what if my wife and I do not greet each other:
Good morning, Sir or Good morning, Madam;
or Good Night, Sir or Good Night, Madam…
are we two guilty of a lack of finesse and not having respect?
in all these
I truly and simply, and respectfully, cannot see
if we have, or do not have any respect for one another…
But still I am chided by the respect-obsessed world;
ah, the ways of the clever world are indeed mysterious
and beyond a common man’s understanding…

poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Walrus and The Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

poem by Lewis Carroll from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (1872)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Under The Weather

Along the streets, my leaden feet plod:
In my mind, this all feels quite odd.
Usually, when walking, I keep a good pace,
But, at the moment, this is not the case.

When I cough, my chest gives a rattle.
Just to keep going, feels like a battle.
Walking along a road that's all uphill,
Is a real struggle, and takes all of my will.

I seem to have lost my ‘get up and go.'
My pace at the moment is painfully slow.
My nose is all flaky, and has gone red.
Now, when I cough, it hurts my head.

I don't really feel like a lot to eat.
I prefer sitting down to rest my feet.
My soul within, feels quite deflated.
At my slow pace, I feel quite frustrated.

I cough so much that my ribs are sore.
Having a cold has become a real bore.
From me, some folk are now steering clear:
In case of infection, they won't come near.

Chances are that my cough will hang on:
I will be so relieved when it has gone.
My nose keeps running, just like a tap.
My inner strength, my cold has sapped.

Having a cold, I find just so annoying:
With my patience, this cold is toying.
I can't wait to be back to my old self:
Feeling happy, and back to good health.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Good News

Something to begin with
That's easy said than done
You'll see me rolling home
But I don't understand why
Still there's nothing at all
Time is on my side
But we mustn't let our disappointment show
But I will, and you will go on
All I need is some good news (some good news)
All I need is some good news (just some good news)
To put me on my feet (to put me on my feet)
To put me at my ease (at my ease)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
To put me at my ease (to put me at my ease)
All I need is some good news
All I need is some good news (just gimme me some good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
To put me at my ease (to put me at my ease)
To put me on my feet (on my feet, on my feet)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news
All I need is some good news (all I need is good news)
To put me on my ease (to put me at my ease)
To put me on my feet (on my feet, on my feet)
All I need is some good news (good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
All I need is some good news (good news)
All I need is some good news
[Repeat to fade

song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Save Me

I'm driving through the desert I, met a man
Who told me of his crazy plan
He'd been walking there for 20 days
He was going to walk on
For 20 more
Said "How about a drink or a bite to eat?"
He said "No, my faith is all I need"
So then, save me
Save me mister walking man
If you can
You don't need to prove a thing to me
Just give me faith, make me believe
Come on, save me
Save me Mister walking man
If you can
Come on, save me
Save me Mister stranger
If you please save me
Save me
Stranger, if you please
Or am I too far gone
I see to get back home
To get back home
How about you take a ride with me
We could kill some time, shoot the breeze
He said "every whispering wind and second counts"
Oh, maybe if you walk, but you should drive around
Save me
Save me
Mr walking man, if you can
Come on, save me
Save me Mr stranger, if you please
Save me, save me
Stranger, if you please
Or am I too far gone
To get back home
To get back home
I don't need you to stall for some time, no
I don't need you to turn water into wine, no
I don't need you to, to fly
I'm just asking you to save me
(You might try savin' yourself)
I'm gonna save me
(You might try savin' yourself)
I swear those lips shine
(You might try savin' yourself)
As it, the moon, the moon it shines
(You might try savin' yourself)
Why don't you, save me
(You might try savin' yourself)
Come on and save me
(You might try savin' yourself)

song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Oysters

The rustic women dived,
And collected in the baskets
The black oysters feed
On the breast of muddy sands.

When boiled, the oysters
Opened their doors tightly closed,
To sooth with flesh delicious
The hungry stomachs boors owned.

When the oyster roast,
Served on star tables with spoon,
On to the crest of taste
The rich were taken.

Vitamin ‘E’ oozing
Black oysters
Stimulate pale withered nights
Into red hot throbbing.

Small fishes seen
Whispering the black oysters,
Dreams and pain,
Moist with river water.

Silent in the basket,
Grand black oysters
Open the tales wet,
Unknown to the humans.

poem by Fabiyas M V
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Little Aggie

When Joe Dove took his elephants out on the road
He made each one hold fast with his trunk
To the tail of the elephant walking in front
To stop them from doing a bunk.

There were fifteen in all, so 'twere rather a job
To get them linked up in a row,
But once he had fixed 'em Joe knew they'd hold on,
For an elephant never lets go.

The pace it was set by the big 'uns in front,
'Twas surprising how fast they could stride,
And poor little Aggie, the one at the back...
Had to run till she very near died.

They were walking one Sunday from Blackpool to Crewe,
They'd started at break of the day,
Joe followed behind with a bagful of buns
In case they got hungry on t'way.

They travelled along at a rattling good pace
Over moorland and valley and plain,
And poor little Aggie the one at the back
Her trunk fairly creaked with the strain.

They came to a place where the railway crossed road,
An ungated crossing it were,
And they wasn't to know as the express was due
At the moment that they landed there.

They was half way across when Joe saw the express-
It came tearing along up the track-
He tried hard to stop, but it wasn't much good,
For an elephant never turns back.

He saw if he didn't do something at once
The train looked like spoiling his troupe,
So he ran on ahead and he waggled tho buns
To show them they'd best hurry up

When they caught sight of buns they all started to run,
And they soon got across at this gait,
Except poor little Aggie-the one at the back,
She were one second too late.

The express came dashing along at full speed,
And caught her end on, fair and square
She bounced off the buffers, turned head over heels,
And lay with her legs in the air.

Joe thought she were dead when he saw her lyin' there,
With the back of her head on the line
He knelt by her side, put his ear to her chest,
And told her to say " ninety-nine."

She waggled her tail and she twiggled her trunk ;
To show him as she were alive;
She hadn't the strength for to say "ninety-nine,"
She just managed a weak "eighty-five."

When driver of th' engine got down from his cab
Joe said "Here's a nice howdedo,
To see fifteen elephants ruined for life
By a clumsy great driver like you."

Said the driver, "There's no need to mak' all this fuss,
There's only one hit as I've seen."
Joe said, "Aye, that's right, but they held on so tight
You've pulled back end off t' other fourteen."

Joe still walks around with his elephant troupe,
He got them patched up at the vet's,
But Aggie won't walk at the back any more,
'Cos an elephant never forgets.

poem by Marriott Edgar
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Write Me

Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.

song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Fun Than A Barrel Of Monkeys

there are multiple questions pertaining to the concept,
'more fun than a barrel of monkeys.'

how big is the barrel?
how many monkeys are we talking about?
how big are the monkeys? Are we talking spider monkeys, chimps, baboons or what?
Are the monkeys old or young and where's the barrel, inside or outside?

If you leave the monkeys in the barrel, you got a problem:
they'll die in their own excrement,
if you lift the lid and let them out,
they might kill you.

a monkey can rip out your eyes, is that fun?
monkeys, leaping and running around the house, can do a lot of damage, is that fun?
monkeys are dirty, so... what exactly do you consider fun?
what's it going to be like trying to get the monkeys back in the barrel?
would that be fun?

what would the neighbors think of you, if you released the monkeys into their yards?
what happens if the police gets involved?
it could mean everything imaginable is more fun than a barrel of these animals.
maybe even more fun than a barrel of human beings.

poem by Richard Jarboe
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Madam's Past History

My name is Johnson--
Madam Alberta K.
The Madam stands for business.
I'm smart that way.

I had a
HAIR-DRESSING PARLOR
Before
The depression put
The prices lower.

Then I had a
BARBECUE STAND
Till I got mixed up
With a no-good man.

Cause I had a insurance
The WPA
Said, We can't use you
Wealthy that way.

I said,
DON'T WORRY 'BOUT ME!
Just like the song,
You WPA folks take care of yourself--
And I'll get along.

I do cooking,
Day's work, too!
Alberta K. Johnson--
Madam to you.

poem by Langston Hughes
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A Tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck

Translation of a letter from a tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck to that lady, dated January 9, 1787

My very good landlady, Mistress Van Kleeck,
(For the tears that o'erwhelm me I scarcely can speak)
I know that I promis'd you hogs two or three
(But who knows his destiny? Certain not me!)
That I promis'd three hogs I don't mean to deny
(I can prove that I had five or six upon sty.)
Three hogs did I say? Three sows I say then
'Pon honour I ne'er had a male upon pen.

Well Madam, the long and the short of the clatter
For mumbling & mincing will not better the matter;
And murder and truth, my dear mammy wd say
By some means or other forever saw day;
And Daddy himself, as we chop'd in the wood,
Would often observe that lying wasn't good.
Tell truth, my sweet fellow, no matter who feels it,
It ne'er can do hurt to the man who reveals it.
But stop! While my Daddy and Mammy's the subject
I am running aside the original object --
The sows, my sweet madam, the sows I repeat,
Which you and your household expected to eat,
Instead of attending their corn and their swill
Gave way to an ugly he-sow's wicked will.
When 'twill end your good ladyship need not be told,
For Nature is still as she hath been of old,
And when he cries YES mortal may not cry NO -
So Madam, farewell, with my holliday bow.

poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
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Justice In The Barrel

Hey mister can you help me
I'm a loner on the run
I'm just looking for tomorrow
And I ain't gonna hurt no one

I jumped headfirst into a bottle
I was looking for a friend
Came up just short of nothing
I didn't find the truth I only found an end

So tell me who's gonna save me
Or my father or my son
When the only justice a man can see
Is the barrel... of a loaded gun

I been broke and I've been hungry
I think they're both my middle name
But I don't never ever never seem to get enough
Still guess I can't complain

'Cause what you get in life you take it
You've gotta hold on and make it last
They say good things come to those who wait
But it's life that goes so fast

And when there's just one rule you live by
Each day you kiss the rising sun
When you live and die by the life we breathe
In the barrel of a loaded gun

Guns talk to me in my sleep at night
And a gun somewhere is burning
With my name

Winners are losers
And losers will have to face
All those yesterdays
And all of the dreams they blew away

So Mister can you help me
Or are you my gun
Have the ghosts of justice
Brought you here to me to taste
The barrel of a loaded gun

There's justice in the barrel
Of a loaded gun

song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Joke's On Me

The old days were no fun
Im not sorry that they're gone
I don't miss them and I won't miss them
and it was always wrong
Everything I've ever done
From the beginning and to the ending
and things never got better, it seems like forever
Since we had fun or maybe I never have fun
And this whole time! I've been around
One minute up!
and a hundred down uhhh ohhh
Keep on laughing, Keep attacking
I'll show you what it means
To keep on lying, Keep denying
That there's nothing good in me
I'm not worthless, I know you heard this
My life's a joke and the joke's on me
The joke's on me
You were always lame, a headache and a pain
I don't miss you and I won't miss you
I tried not to get bitter but I was such a quitter
Oh yeah I had dreams but they were only ever bad dreams
And this whole time! I've been around
One minute up!
and a hundred down uhhh ohhh
Keep on laughing, Keep attacking
I'll show you what it means
To keep on lying, Keep denying
That there's nothing good in me
I'm not worthless, I know you heard this
My life's a joke and the joke's on me
The joke's on me, The joke's on me...
Well there never were any good old days
Looking back I'm still amazed
How everything went wrong in every way
There were no good old days
Well there never were any good old days
Looking back I'm still amazed
That everything went wrong in every way
There were no good old days
[2x]
And this whole time! I've been around
One minute up!
and a hundred down uhhh ohhh
Keep on laughing, Keep attacking
I'll show you what it means
To keep on lying, Keep denying
That there's nothing good in me
I'm not worthless, I know you heard this
My life's a joke and the joke's on me...

song performed by by Reel Big Fish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aphrodisiac

Now, listen to me, folks...
Hear what I say.
You got to eat oysters everyday
They'll put your love life back on track
They're nature's own aphrodisiac.

Ohh, ohhh... yes it's true
What a little oyster can do for you.
Ohh, ohhh... ain't it fun
Here's some things them oysters done...

They made Jim Beam
They made Allen Thick
They made Jonathan Swift
And they made Gracie Slick
They made Victor Mature
And they made Tom Petty
They started Willie Waylon
And they got Helen Reddy.
They made Tom Cruise
They made Oscar Wilde
They gave Gary Hart
But they gave Gomer Piles
They made William Hurt
They made Lucille Ball
They made Wilson Picket
And that ain't all.

Ohh, ohhh... yes it's true
What a little oyster can do for you.
Ohh, ohhh... ain't it fun
Here's some more them oysters done.

They made Stevie Wonder
And they made old John Wayne
They made Saul Bellow
And caused Thomas Paine
Turned Clint Black
And turned Barry White
Made Doris' Day
And Gladys' Knight.
They gave Bob Hope
They gave Percy Faith
They made Marvin Gaye
But they made George Straight
They made Bobby's Short
And Lester's Flatt
And hey... they even did more than that.

Ohh, ohhh... yes it's true
What a little oyster can do for you.
Ohh, ohhh... ain't it fun
Here's some more them oysters done.

They got George Bush
They made Bozo a Clown
They got Bobby Bare
And made Ezra Pound
They made Gallo Wine
They made Merle Haggart
They Made Andy Devine
They made Jimmy Swagger
They made Rich Little
And made Hughie Long
They made BB King
And they made Neil's Armstrong
And if you ask my wife,
She'll tell you quite gaily
Best of all they made old Pat Daily.

Ohh, ohhh... yes it's true
What a little oyster can do for you.
Ohh, ohhh... ain't it fun
That's all about oysters
Now we're done.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Miss Otis Regrets

(cole porter)
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
She is sorry to be delayed,
But last evening down at lover's lane, she strayed.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
~interlude~
When she woke from her dream
And found that her love had gone,
Madam...
She ran to the man
Who had led her so far astray.
And from under her velvet gown,
She drew a gun and shot her lover down.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.
Then the mob came and got her
And dragged her from the jail.
Madam...
They strung her upon
A willow across the way.
And the moment before she died,
She lifted up her lovely head and cried.
Madam...
Miss otis regrets
She's unable to lunch today.

song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Caught Up In You

I never knew there'd come a day
When I'd be sayin' to you
"Don't let this good love slip away
Now that we know that it's true."
Don't, don't you know the kind of man I am
No, said I'd never fall in love again
But it's real and the feeling comes shining through.
So caught up in you, little girl
And I never did suspect a thing
So caught up in you, little girl
That I never want to get myself free
And baby it's true
You're the one
Who caught me baby you taught me
How good it could be
It took so long to change my mind
I thought that love was a game
I played around enough to find
No two are ever the same
You made me realized the love I missed
So hot! Love I couldn't quite resist
When it's right the light just comes shining through.
So caught up in you, little girl
You're the one that's got me down on my knees
So caught up in you, little girl
That I never want to get myself free
And baby it's true
You're the one
Who caught me, baby you taught me
How good it could be
Fill your days and your nights
No need to ever ask me twice oh no
Whenever you want me
And if ever comes a day
When you should turn and walk away oh no
I can't live without you
So caught up in you
Yeah, yeah, yeah
And if ever comes a day
When you should turn and walk away oh no
I can't live without you
So caught up in you, little girl
You're the one that's got me down on my knees
So caught up in you , little girl
That I never want to get myself free
And baby it's true
You're the one
Who caught me baby you taught me
How good it could be, little girl
You're the one that's got me down on my knees
So caught up in you, little girl
That I never want to get myself free
And baby it's true
You're the one
Who caught me and taught me
You got me so caught up in you

song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young And Aspiring

So let's not even try you're right let's ball it up and
throw it out the window
It's becoming all so clear in my mind
I've thought this thing through like once or twice
I feel that this is my last request to you
Hold your breath
Bottle it up and save it for the next one
It's safe to say we've been riding this all night
None of this will ever change your mind
It's never safe to rely on borrowed time
Now we're both undone and it's time to open up
your eyes
Consequence, it's our need in times like these
Feelin' free is our modern disease
You're a cry for disaster, with a knack for losing
your exterior
I'm so sick
From staring at the mirror
This all needs a break from you
And I'm used to this
I fear that I am just an end
So you'll play the mistaken and I'll play the
victim
In our screenplay of desire and I'm still writing
the letters I'll never send
Running in circles I can't forget how many times
I've played this in my mind
Feelin free, Feelin freee
Consequence, it's our need in times like these
Feelin' free is our modern disease
You're a cry for disaster, with a knack for losing
your exterior
I'm so sick
From staring at the mirror
This is my panic, This is my call to arms

song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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