Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Oh out near stonehenge, I lived alone
Oh out near gamehendge, I chafed a bone
Wilson, king of prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, duke of lizards, I beg it all trune for you
Talk my duke a mountain, helping friendly book
Inasfar as fiefdom, I think you bad crook
Wilson, king of prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, duke of lizards, I beg it all trune for you
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
I talked to mike christian, rog and pete the same
When we had that meeting, over down near game(henge)
Wilson, king of prussia, I lay this hate on you
Wilson, duke of lizards, I beg it all trune for you
You got me back thinkin that youre the worst one
I must inquire, wilson, can you still have fun?
Wilson, can you still have fun?
Wilson, can you still have fun?
Wilson
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Punch You In The Eye
I come from the land where the oceans freeze
Spent three long months on the open seas
Paddled 'til it seemed I could take no more
When my ship hit ground on Prussia's shores
How was I to know that day
That the winds had swept me Wilson's way
'Cause soon towards me from the East
Came Wilson and his men on multi-beasts
Well it seems he didn't like my face
And I quickly learned that Prussia was an evil place
They tied me to a chair with a giant clip
And held a piece of paper to my tender nip(ple)
Then they tossed the chair in a tiny shack
And told me not to worry 'cause they'd soon be back
But I loosened up the binds where my hands were lashed
And ran towards the cove where my boat was stashed
Singing "Oh Wilson, someday I'll kill you 'til you die
Oh Wilson, Punch you in the Eye"
When Wilson knew that I was loose
I'd surely be subjected to some real abuse
Maybe end up hanging from the nearest tree
So angrily I paddled to the open sea
But the sea was eager to beat me back
And the waves grew huge and deadly black
And the gray clouds rumbled over my head
And I feared in my heart that I'd soon be dead
[Solo over "Landlady" changes]
When the morning came and the storm had passed
And the dismal fog began at last
To open up before my eyes
And there I saw to my surprise
Chains and specks of islands curved
Where palm trees dipped and seagulls swerved
And I parked my kayak on a stone
And yelled across the ocean to his evil throne
I said "Oh Wilson, someday I'll kill you 'til you die
Oh Wilson, Punch you in the Eye
Wilson, kill you 'til you die
Oh Wilson, Punch you in the Eye"
[Solo over "Landlady" changes]
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family Pride
I am a Wilson
Born and raised
A source of pride
Til my end of days
poem by Sarah Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb
Robin Williams, Dan Stevens, Mickey Rooney, Ben Stiller, Ben Kingsley, Rebel Wilson, Owen Wilson, Dick Van Dyke
from Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Introduction Narration
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Once upon a time there was a mountain that rose out of a vast green forest. and in the forest there were birds and lakes and rocks and trees and rivers. the forest was also inhabited by a small group of people called the lizards. the lizards were a simple people and they had lived in the forest undisturbed for thousands of years in utter peace and tranquillity. once a year when spring came, and the first blossoms began to show, the lizards would gather at the base of the mountain, to give thanks for all that they had. they thanked the birds and they thanked the lakes and they thanked the rocks and the trees and the rivers; but most importantly, they thanked icculus. icculus lived at the top of the mountain, or at least everyone thought so, for no one had actually ever seen him. but they knew he existed, because they had the helping friendly book. icculus had given the helping friendly book to the lizards thousands of years earlier as a gift. it contained all of the knowledge inherent
In the universe, and had
Enabled the lizards to exist in harmony with nature for years. and so they lived; until one day a traveler arrived in gamehendge.
His name was wilson and he quickly became intrigued by the lizards way of life. he asked if he could stay on and live in the forest; and the lizards, who had never seen an outsider, were happy to oblige. wilson lived with the lizards for a few years, studying the ways of the helping friendly book, and all was well. until one morning when they awoke and the book was gone. wilson explained that he had hidden the book, knowing that the lizards had become dependent on it for survival. he declared himself king and enslaved the innocent people of gamehendge. he cut down the trees and built a city, which he called prussia. and in the center of the city he built a castle, and locked in the highest tower of the castle lay the helping friendly book out of the reach of the lizards forever. but our story begins at a different time, not in gamehendge, but on a suburban street in long island, and our hero is no king sitting in a castle, he is a retired colonel shaving in his bathroom.
Colonel forbin looked square in the mirror and dragged the blade across his cold creamed skin. he saw the tired little folds of flesh that lay in a heap beneath his eyes. fifty-two years of obedient self-restraint, of hiding his tension behind a serene veil of composure. for fifty-two years he had piled it all on the back burner, and for fifty-two years it had boiled, frothing over in a turbulent storm inside of him. it had escaped through his eyes, reacting with the cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights and slowly accumulating into a sagging mass.
He ran his dripping palm across the stubble on the nape of his neck and thought again about the door. he had discovered the door some months back on one of his ritualistic morning walks with his dog mcgrupp. it had started out as a typical stroll with mcgrupp bounding joyously ahead of the preoccupied colonel. as they reached the apex of the hill, he saw it and he knew it had always been there, and felt foolish for overlooking the door for so long. at first, he tried to ignore it, but he soon found that it was impossible, and slowly his newly acquired knowledge transformed his dreary life into a prison from which there was only one escape. and on this morning, colonel forbin stepped through the door.
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Man Who Stepped Into Yesterday
INTRODUCTION
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
Once upon a time there was a mountain that rose out of a vast green forest. And in the forest there were birds and lakes and rocks and trees and rivers. The forest was also inhabited by a small group of people called the lizards. The lizards were a simple people and they had lived in the forest undisturbed for thousands of years in utter peace and tranquillity. Once a year when spring came, and the first blossoms began to show, the
lizards would gather at the base of the mountain, to give thanks for all that they had. They thanked the birds and they thanked the lakes and they thanked the rocks and the trees and the rivers; but most importantly, they thanked Icculus.
Icculus lived at the top of the mountain, or at least everyone thought so, for no one had actually ever seen him. But they knew he existed, because they had the Helping Friendly Book. Icculus had given the Helping Friendly Book to the Lizards thousands of years earlier as a gift. It contained all of the knowledge inherent in the universe, and had
enabled the Lizards to exist in harmony with nature for years. And so they lived; until one day a traveler arrived in Gamehendge. His name was Wilson and he quickly became intrigued by the Lizards way of life. He asked if he could stay on and live in the forest; and the Lizards, who had never seen an outsider, were happy to oblige.
Wilson lived with the Lizards for a few years, studying the ways of the Helping Friendly Book, and all was well. Until one morning when they awoke and the book was gone. Wilson explained that he had hidden the book, knowing that the Lizards had become dependent on it for survival. He declared himself king and enslaved the innocent
people of Gamehendge. He cut down the trees and built a city, which he called Prussia. And in the center of the city he built a castle, and locked in the highest tower of the castle lay the Helping Friendly Book out of the reach of the Lizards forever. But our story begins at a different time, not in Gamehendge, but on a suburban street in Long Island, and our hero is no king sitting in a castle, he is a retired colonel shaving in his bathroom.
Colonel Forbin looked square in the mirror and dragged the blade across his cold creamed skin. He saw the tired little folds of flesh that lay in a heap beneath his eyes. Fifty-two years of obedient self-restraint, of hiding his tension behind a serene veil of composure. For fifty-two years he had piled it all on the back burner, and for fifty-two years it had boiled, frothing over in a turbulent storm inside of him. It had escaped through his eyes, reacting with the cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights and slowly accumulating into a sagging mass. He ran his dripping palm across the stubble on the nape of his neck and thought again about the door. He had discovered the door some months back on one of his ritualistic morning walks with his dog McGrupp. It had started out as a typical stroll with McGrupp bounding joyously ahead of the preoccupied colonel. As they reached the apex of the hill, he saw it and he knew it had always been there, and felt foolish for overlooking the door for so long. At first, he tried to ignore it, but he soon found that it was impossible, and slowly his newly acquired knowledge transformed his dreary life into a prison from which there was only one escape. And on this morning, Colonel Forbin stepped through the door...
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think Mr. Wilson will have to be the rest of the way alone.
quote by Flip Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wilson thought in terms of the whole world; Harding was for America first. And, finally, whereas Wilson wanted America to exert itself nobly, Harding wanted to give it a rest.
quote by Frederick Lewis Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lizards
Passing through the corridor I came upon an aging knight
Who leaned against the wall in gnarly armor
He was on his way to see the king
Wilson
Wilson
Wilson
He led me through the streets of prussia talking
As he tried to crush a bug that scurried underneath his bootheel
He said there was a place where we should go
So he lead me through the forest to the edge of a lagoon by which
We wandered til we reached a bubbly spring
The knight grew very quiet as we stood there
Then he lifted up his visor and he turned to me and he began to sing
Chorus:
He said I come from the land of darkness
I said I come from the land of doom
He said I come from the land of gamehendge
From the land of the big baboon
But Im never never going back there
And I couldnt if I tried
cause I come from the land of lizards
And the lizards they have died
And the lizards they have died
And the lizards they have died
And the lizards they have died
He told me that the lizards were a race of people practically extinct
From doing things smart people dont do
He said that he was once a lizard too
His name was rutherford the brave and he was on a quest to save
His people from the fate that lay before them.
Their clumsy end was perilously near
The lizards would be saved, he said, if they could be enlightened
By the writings of the helping friendly book
In all of prussia only one existed
And wilson had declared that any person who possessed it was a crook
[chorus]
The helping friendly book, it seemed, possessed the ancient secrets
Of eternal joy and never-ending splendor
The trick was to surrender to the flow
We walked along beneath the moon
He lead us through the bush till soon
We saw before our eyes a raging river
He said that we could swim it if we tried
And saying this the knight dove in forgetting that his suit of arms
Would surely weigh him down and so he sunk
And as his body disappeared before me
I bowed my head in silence and remembered all thoughts that he had thunk
[chorus]
But rutherford and forbin werent alone. and suddenly an unexpected movement caught his eye. on the far side of the river he saw a shaggy creature standing in the weeds who stared across at forbin with an unrelenting gaze. a gigantic mass of muscles and claws. the hideous beast reared back and hurled himself in the water and swam toward the region where rutherford lay. and in a flash, the beast was gone, underneath the surface to the frosty depths below while forbin, bewildered, waited alone. the seconds dragged by in what seemed like hours till finally the colonel felt it all had been a dream. defeated, he bowed his head then turned to go. suddenly with a roar, the creature emerged before him and held the brave knights body to the sky. and the creature laid the knight upon the shore. and the colonel fell beside his friend in prayer that hed survive. and rutherford, brave rutherford was alive.
Forbin and the unit monster were crouched over the soggy knight carefully removing his bulky helmet when the colonel heard a sound behind him. he turned around and came face to face with an enormous shaggy horse-like creature covered from head to tail with alternating blotches of brown and white. it was a two-toned multi-beast, and atop the multi-beast sat the most beautiful woman the colonel had ever seen. after fifty-two years of undaunted bachelorhood, the colonel felt a feeling rush over him as he had never felt before.
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mykel & Carli
Back in wilson high
I had two best friends
They lived down the block
Where eagle ct. ends
One she cared for my bones
Fed me ice-cream cones
One she cared for my happiness
And wouldnt leave me alone
Back in wilson high
Said I had these two best friends
Till the school bus came
And took my friends away
Now Im left alone at home
To sit and think all day
Hear you me, mykel
Hear you me, carli
They gave me a hat
The hat was awful rad
Wore it everyday
Made my teacher mad
She tore it off my head
Now my heads well read
My head gets cold at night sometimes
But I cant be misled
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stronger
See my scars,
See my wounds,
All over the place
Far from perfect;
...Just like everyone.
Cracks and wrinkles
Run all over
Like the trunk of a tree;
Like any tree in any forest,
Battered by rain and wind.
Baby days long lost
Cheated away by the world;
The frost who kills and steals
From every tree and every forest,
But my roots run deep,
Deep in my father's womb
And my leaves are not blind
Fed by the Sun above...
I shall live.
Day, or night,
Stronger with every storm-
Like how it has always been.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Commonwealth
Immigrants. Wilson Health said to the immgrants you better get back to the
commonwealth homes. Yeah, yeah, yeah I said Get back home. Now Enoch Powell was
said to the folks color of his skin. He said don't care. So he said you better
get up. He said he said to Enoch Powell. You better go home. So Wilson said to.
We got to swing. We have to go the hill. So Wilson Health said to Enoch Powell
we got to the commonwealth. Commonwealth yeah commonwealth yeah commonwealth
yeah commonwealth yeah.
Commonwealth yeah. If you don't want trouble you got to go home. To Indania.
I've have enough of that. I'm coming back yeah to England. Dirty Enoch Powell.
Commonwealth. Commonwealth yeah. Don't you hear me commonwealth yeah. Well I
check Austria England India. Enoch powell. Oh commonwealth yeag. Oh
commonwealth yeah. Yeah commonwealth yeah. Commonwealth yeah. It's to common to
me. I came down the street to New Zealand. Commonwealth. Commonwealth yeah.
Commonwealth yeah. Enoch Powell commonwealth yeah. Immigrants commonwealth
yeah. Market.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem For Elyssa
What will I see
appearing before me
when she types her heart
and her thoughts out for me
Will it be sweet,
Will it be majestic,
but even if it doesn't
it's still beautiful, you see
It's not your talent
that gives your poem beauty,
neither it's skill nor wits
that gives it the punchline hits...
but it's the reflection of who you are
on the blank paper I will see
that gives it its breathing life
the way it ought to be.
Perfection is not the answer
nor it is technique or book-bound knowledge,
but it is the embracing of who you are
and the harmony in the acceptance
between your self and your mirror...
for man is never perfect
- such is the true human nature
that God knew since Creation...
flawed, to its very core
yet beautiful at His own accord.
The beauty our Creator sees,
the beauty of all beauty:
That, is the beauty I know.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Season's Closing
A wind that passes in the night,
came unexpectedly
and gone without a trace.
But your face it did touch,
running through your hair
as they float while it dances,
and patiently listening
to your unspoken emotions
before carrying them away
to the horizon's furthest edges...
Our encounter was brief
a mere season in a year
that quickly passes by
in the stream of running Time
but a fated one, indeed
a precious one, nevertheless
So, here is my blessing to you
before we part our ways:
This one last and final Song
to a friend I find so dear.
Thank you for your friendship.
I had fun,
and it's truly nice knowing you...
Take care,
for the days and days to come.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Apologies Mean Nothing
When apologies mean nothing,
when sorry is just a word...
You don't have to say it anymore
when it is not going to change
The way you look at me;
How different you are today
and that part of you I loved -
now slowly, dying away.
What are those three words
when expressed with guilty eyes
When it is common knowledge
That repentance is just a farce
if one refuses to change
And here you are, still afraid of me...
Afraid, for you know too well
you could not accept and love me back
And would only push me away
no matter how much love I give
Because even if I try my best
I will never be good enough.
When apologies mean nothing
when sorry is just a word...
You don't have to say it anymore
when nothing is going to change...
And I have forgiven you anyway;
Because this is how much I loved you,
and this is what love is all about.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That a peasant may become king does not render the kingdom democratic.
quote by Woodrow Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting n Love
My little child,
Everything will come when the time is right.
Like the sun that rises and sets,
At its appointed time each day,
Like the rain that falls
Keeping the soil alive,
And the law of the four seasons,
Part of nature's beautiful fascade...
If even the wind
That comes and goes as it pleases
Heeds the words of its Master
Halting when rebuked,
What more Love
Who in all things were first made,
Governed and placed in motion?
Again,
If He cares about when the sun rises
Of the days and the months
And the timing of the seasons...
What more He cares about you, little child?
Leave love to Him, for He is Love Himself
...and so is everything that comes with it.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bud of Pain
Shut the door, shut the door.
Shut out the burning light.
Lock me in, lock me away,
away from eyes and sight.
Turn the world away.
Leave them at the door.
Creep into a cosy corner.
Bother me no more.
Alone, I want to be alone.
Alone, I need no one.
Alone inside my private mask.
Alone, alone, alone.
Turn me off, turn me off.
Switch off the flickering light.
Leave me be, leave me be.
I have no strength to fight.
© Morney Wilson
poem by Morney Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was right then, I'm right now. I think time has proven me right.
quote by Pete Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hate careless flattery, the kind that exhausts you in your efforts to believe it.
quote by Wilson Mizner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hate careless flattery, the kind that exhausts you in your effort to believe it.
quote by Wilson Mizner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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