I See You Every Time I Close My Eyes
I see you
Every time I close my eyes
Every time I dream
Every time I drink a glass of water
Every time I eat
Every time I watch TV
Every time I read
Every time I go for a walk in the woods
Every time I shop
Every time I listen to music
Every time I think
Every hour, every minute, every second
you are there in my head
I see you
Every time I close my eyes
Norwegian version:
Jeg ser deg
Hver gang jeg lukker øynene
Hver gang jeg drømmer
Hver gang jeg drikker et glass vann
Hver gang jeg spiser
Hver gang jeg jeg ser på TV
Hver gang jeg leser
Hver gang jeg går en tur i skogen
Hver gang jeg handler
Hver gang jeg hører på musikk
Hver gang jeg tenker
Hvert time, hvert minutt, hvert sekund
er du der i mitt hode
Jeg ser deg
Hver gang jeg lukker øynene
poem by Inco G. Nito
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
R. Gang
Written by John Mellencamp
oow, hahaha ha
Well now to live in this world
Sometimes you gotta get touch
I got me a bunch of boys when the going gets rough
Someone to lean on when their calling my bluff
Someone to .....
Talking about R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang
There were only your friends who died ??
Well now the boy wanna run out with the boys tonight
And the girls are on the corner in a fashion show all right
I got their allmoter dead on my right
You better get great protect on this cool old night
Talking about R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang
There were only your friends who died ??
Well now, if there's a moral to be told
Its just that, growin' up is to growin' old
And when the asses say yeah, I'm doing all right
Well I got my bunch of boys, its Saturday night
Talking about R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang, R. Gang
There were only your friends who died, yeah ??
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No More Chain Gang
He was black and handsome
And mighty mighty brave
Comin from the backwoods
The grandson of a slave
He was caught for something
They knew hed never done
And he was diggin ditches
Out in the burnin sun
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
No more, no more, no more
Man he was a giant
And iron he could bend
And he swore hed fight them
Down to the bitter end
Though he was no talker
His burnin eyes would say
You may keep on tryin
Cant hold me no way
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
No more, no more, no more
And one night he lay in waiting
Hit the guard and took the key
And before the others caught him
He jumped out and he was free
He jumped out and he was free
He made for the swamp lands
It seemed a hopeless duel
They had dogs and shotguns
And they were mighty cruel
But they couldnt find him
He was too smart and strong
Hiding in the daytime
Wandering all night long
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
Working on the chain gang-no more
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Of The Gang To Die
you have never been in love
untill you've seen the stars
reflect in the reservoirs
and you have never been in love
until you've seen the dawn rise
behind the home for the blind
we are the pretty petty thieves
and your standing on our streets
where Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to time
the first of the gang to die/oh my
Hector was the first of the gang
with gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die/oh my
you have never been in love
until you've seen sunlight thrown
over smashed human bone
we are the pretty petty thieves
and your standing on our streets
where Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die
such a silly boy
Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and a bullet in his gullet
the first lost lad under the sod
and he stole from the rich and the poor
and the not-very-rich
and the very poor
and he stole all hearts away
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His and Hers
Mom and Dad had a great big fight
Right in the middle of the store
Where Mom works. It was quite a sight.
I wasn't there. I'm almost 4.
Police came and arrested Dad.
Mom told them it was all because
She dissed Dad's gang, and he got mad.
Mom said her gang, the Crips, sure was
Better than his Ballers by far;
And I would be in the Crips gang
Because that's where the winners are.
Dad went ballistic with a bang.
I'll join whichever gang gives me
A fireman's hat and a puppy.
I was a gang leader. Although, it was a gang for defensive purposes. It was not a gang to sell drugs.
quote by Jack Bowman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Granattræet
I Vaaren er hver Blomst en Flamme,
I Høsten er hver Blomst en Frugt.
Viis Du, o Digter, os det Samme
I dette Jordlivs snare Flugt!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fru v. Beskov
Din Sjæl er blød og gjennemsigtig selv,
Som Vandet er det i den svenske Elv,
Hver Stjerne speiler sig i den til Grunden,
Og naar et Smiil Dig bæver mildt om Munden,
Til Dig betroer sig gjerne da hver Een.
— Gud gav en Digter Dig, som Ædelsteen.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hver af os gjemmer i sin Hjertekrog
Hver af os gjemmer i sin Hjertekrog
Erindringernes store Billedbog,
Hvert Blad sin Tegning har fra Tid og Sted;
Der findes brogede, men sorte med.
De sorte, som kan Ungdomsmodet kue,
Dem tager man kun frem til eget Skue.
Men gjennem hele Billedrækken gaaer
En Livstraad, saa at tydeligt man faaer
Enhvers Mission: den Lyst, som i os brænder.
I min Erindrings Billedbog jeg kjender
Igjen paa hvert et Blad en mægtig Tanke,
Der gjør, at Hjertet stærkere maa banke,
At Kjærlighed til Kunsten blev mig givet;
Jeg løfted' Vingen kjækt i Hverdagslivet,
Mig drev en Villie i det Skjønnes Sag,
Til Kunstens Tempel gjaldt mit Vingeslag.
— Saa mangt et Blad i Bogen lagdes ned:
Der staaer om Ungdoms gyldne Freidighed,
Den første Barnedrøm om Laurbærgrenen,
Det Billed: første Gang at staae paa Scenen.
Men mellem det er mange Blade lagt,
Der ikke just har Drømmes gyldne Pragt.
— Det sidste Billed: denne Aftenstund,
Der følger mig, naar Lamperne her slukkes,
Det lyse vil frem fra en gylden Grund,
Ja gylden, thi af Veemod det bedugges.
Hav Tak for hver Opmuntring, Mildheds Dom!
Farvel! for mig nu vexler Scenen om.
Skjult er det, om jeg Lykkeblomsten finder,
Dens Duft jeg gjemmer dog i gamle Minder!
Men som det deiligste, det bedste Blad,
Det, som vil løfte mig og gjøre glad,
Er at see opfyldt engang, hvad jeg bad:
At vinde og fortjene Kunstnernavnet.
Arbeide, stræbe vil jeg! Hvad er Savnet,
Hvad er hver Prøvelse, Afskedens Smerte!
Farvel! Tak af mit varme, fulde Hjerte.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pram
Fra Helten klædt i Brynie blaae,
Til hver en Blomst Dit Øie saae,
Du bragte os et Billed'.
Din Tanke Intet gik forbi,
Hver Skizze selv Du gav Værdie,
I det Du den opstilled.
Emilies Kilde frisk og klar,
Fra Dig sin bedste Skjønhed har.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Havana Gang Brawl
Well the cops are at the door
And you know that they want more
They've got spears, made for arms
Tried to lure you with their charms
You can hear the guns outside
Watching riots with their eyes
As you move from wall to wall
Hear the siren from the gang brawl
Line the locals one by one
Filling bullets with their guns
Are you red, or if you're blue
Cause tonight their gonna find the truth
Take no prisoners today
For the future will be laid
One big city, one big town
Everyone with the same crown
Havana Gang Brawl
Havana Gang Brawl
Havana Gang Brawl
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
A doomed old day for engagements
They have torn up your arrangements
All the mothers, buying razors
For the future will be dangerous
You try desperately to leave
But all the trains are dry for steam
All the taxis on their sides
All the planes are burning bright
Havana Gang Brawl
Havana Gang Brawl
Havana Gang Brawl
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
Only one option left
To survive or you'll be dead
Do you hide now from the sin
Or do your blazing guns begin?
All the shops are up for sale
You might make it out on bail
All the fathers shine today
Making sure that son's ok
Havana Gang Brawl
Havana Gang Brawl
Havana Gang Brawl
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
Oh where will you sleep tonight?
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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1%
All the people I know wanna be left alone
Some people! I don't know?
They wont leave you alone
You gotta be just - be just like them
Biggest gang I know they call the government
Gang is a weapon
That you trade your mind in for
You gotta be just - be just like them
The gang
And the government
No different
The gang
And the government
No different
The gang
And the government
No different
That makes me 1%
That makes me 1%
Trouble comes down
Like a foot steppin heavy
Shake your fist
At the bitch
Or wave your money
You gotta be right
You gotta be right
Don't be no
Supper for a big fish
With the big lip
And the over -
Bite - bite
You gotta bite
Bite - bite - bite - dabita
Bite - bite - badadabita
Bite - bite - bite - bite
Bite - bite - bite - bite
Sll the people I know wanna be left alone
Some people I don't know?
They wont leave you alone!
You gotta be just - be just like them
The gang
And the government
No different
The gang
And the government
No different
The gang
And the government
No different
That makes me 1%
That makes me 1%
That makes me 1%
That makes me 1%
song performed by by Jane's Addiction from Jane's Addiction
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tyveknægten
I Vuggen ligger det spæde Noer,
Det sover saa trygt og stille;
Moderen læser et Fader Vor,
En Engel hun seer i den Lille.
Ømt hun kysser hans runde Kind
Og glemmer hver jordisk Smerte,
Drømmer saa sødt i Fremtid ind;
Saa drømmer hver Moder-Hjerte.
Men Ravnen kommer med al sin Slægt,
Og synger bag Ruden sin Vise:
„Din Engel bliver en Tyveknægt,
Og vi skal Engelen spise!"
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chilly Down
When the sun goes down (when the sun goes down)
And the bads are back again (and the bads are back)
The brothers comeround (the brothers comeround)
I get out of my dirty bed (my dirty bed)
I shake my pretty little head (I shake my pretty little head)
I tap my pretty little feet (I tap my pretty little feet)
Were brighter than sunlight
Laouder than thunder
Dancing like a yo-yo, wooh
Dont got no problems (no problems)
Aint got no suitcase (no suitcase)
Aint got no clothes to worry about (no clothes to worry about)
Aint got no real estate or jewelry or gold mines binding me, yeah
Ill just through in my hand (through in his hand)
In the chilliest bunch in the land (in the land)
They dont look much (oh)
They sure chilly chilly
They party till they glow glow, huh (oh)
Chilly down with the fun gang
Think small with the fun gang
Bang hips with the fun gang
When you think its wild
Chilly down
Chilly down with the fun gang (hey, I dont want a job)
Act tall with the fun gang (woah, walk tall)
Good times, bad food (yeah)
When you think its wild
Chilly down, chilly down
Wild and crazy, really lazy, high rollin, funky strolling, ball playing
Hips swaying, trouble making, boody shaking, dripping, passing, jumping
Bouncing, brawling, stylin, creeping, pouncing, shouting, screaming
Double-dealing, rock-n-rolling, and oh reeling
With the max in sex appeal
Can you think I grew with feeling?
So when things get too tough (get too tough)
And your chin is dragging on the ground (dragging on the ground)
And even down looks up (down looks up)
Bad luck
We can show you a good time (show you a good time)
And we dont judge nothing (nothing at all)
Just strut your nasty stuff
Wiggle in the middle, yeah
Get you down talking, fun gang
Chilly down with the fun gang (think small)
Think small with the fun gang (bang)
Bang hips with the fun gang (hey, listen up)
When you think its wild
Chilly down
Chilly down with the fun gang (ah, shake your pretty little head)
Lets go with the fun gang (tap your pretty little feet)
Good times, bad food (come on, come on)
When you think its wild
Chilly down
Chilly down with the fun gang (wooh)
Think small with the fun gang (ha ha ha ha ha)
Bang hips with the fun gang
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hvad jeg elsker
Jeg elsker Havet, naar det stormer vildt!
Jeg elsker det, naar Fladen ligger mildt,
Og Maanen speiler sig i Dybets Blaae.
Jeg elsker Bjergene, jeg aldrig saae!
De store Floder og de dybe Dale.
Jeg elsker Skovens grønne Sommersale!
Den tause Nat med al sin Stjerne-Hær,
Og Aftenrøden i sit stærke Skjær!
Den hvide Riimfrost paa den nøgne Green;
— Men hade — nei, jeg hader ikke Een!
Jeg hader kun hver bitter, grusom Lyst!
Jeg hader Syndens Tanke i mit Bryst!
Jeg hader Mysticismens Pave-Baand!
Men elsker Barnet og hver barnlig Aand,
Jeg elsker Tanken i sin stolte Gang,
Og Tonekunsten med sin Længsels Sang!
Jeg elsker Blomsten med sin friske Duft,
Og Fuglen i den rene, frie Luft!
Jeg elsker Vennen, høit som Himlens Blaae!
Og Qvinden — — ja! een eneste jeg saae,
Og hun var Brud — det var jo ret en Lyst! -
Jeg elsker denne Længsel i mit Bryst!
Jeg elsker Graven med sin dybe Fred,
Og Tanken om den store Evighed! -
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indskrift paa Rammen
Indskrift paa Rammen
om et Maleri, forestillende den engelske Minister Sir Henry Wynns Landsted i Sjælland, givet ham af danske Veninder
Dit danske Sommerhjem ved Skov og Strand
Skal følge Dig til gamle Engelland
Med Hilsener fra trofaste Veninder.
Hver Gang Du seer det gjennem alle Aar,
Dansk Sommertid Dig gjennem Hjertet gaaer.
— Der er en Skat i kjære, gamle Minder!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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The Plan
The light
Stroke me
I had
Greatest idea
I gather
My gang
The plan
Was going
To work
The gang
Came for
The plan
It will work
The gang
Prepared everything
For the plan
The plan work
The guy of my dream
Came to ask me
To be his girlfriend
poem by Stephanie Pardo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Landsoldatens Hjemkomst
Det er som en Festdag hver evige Dag,
Vor Landsoldat kommer tilbage.
Fra Huus og til Huus hænge Krandse og Flag,
Folk juble fra Gader og Tage,
Hvert Laug har sin Fane, Musiken er med,
Og Hurra og Jubel hvert evige Sted.
„Nu komme de! hør fra Voldene Skud!
Saa sunde, saa prægtige see de ud!"
Hurra! Hurra! I herlige, brave Soldater!
De komme med Blomster paa Hat og Gevær,
Et vandrende Foraar de ligne;
Gaae ind imellem dem, tal med hver,
Det er de Mænd, vi velsigne.
De stred og døied og udholdt som Faa,
Og vide selv ikke, hvor store de staae.
Den fineste Frøkens Rosenmund
Kunde kysse Soldaten i denne Stund.
Hurra! Hurra! I herlige, brave Soldater!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Den Gang vi endnu havde Vaar
Den Gang vi endnu havde Vaar,
Saae jeg Dig Roser plukke,
De turde i dit dunkle Haar
Sødt dufte, friske, smukke.
Og da man Sommer red i By,
Dit Hjerte var bevæget,
Du bandt en smuk Bouquet paany,
Hvori hver Markblomst leged.
Og Høsten kom med broget Lyst
Med Asters, Anemoner,
Dem lod Du fæste paa dit Bryst,
Som Ordensstjernen troner.
Nu ind i Vinteren er vi stridt,
Ei Blomster Jorden smykke,
Derfor kan mig nu ganske lidt
Du til dit Hjerte trykke. -
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Romance
Hvor Bøgen helder sin friske Green
Mod Stranden, mens sagteligt Bølgerne trille,
En Havfrue staaer paa tangklædte Steen
Og synger i Aftenens Stille.
See, Havbørn smaa mere ude fra Land
Sig boltre i Tact efter Sangen;
Det klinger med Glasklokke-Klangen,
Hver Gang de kløve det klare Vand.
Den Havfrue kjæmmer sit lange Haar,
Og Perlerne rigt falde fra det som Draaber;
Den Sømand det seer, forude han staaer,
Hans unge Hjerte paa Livet haaber;
Den Havfrue er ham ei Skum paa Vand,
Og Sangen naaer Hjertet og Tanken.
Forstaaer Du hans Hjertebanken?
Hvert Bryst har sit hellige Alfeland!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every city in the world always has a gang, a street gang, or the so-called outcasts.
quote by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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