Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Tears of Rage

by Bob Dylan

We carried you in our arms
On Independence Day
And now you'd throw us all aside
And put us all away
Oh, what dear daughter 'neath the sun
Could treat a father so?
To wait upon him hand and foot
And always tell him, 'No'

Tears of rage, tears of grief
Why must I always be the thief?
Come to me now
You know we're so low
And life is brief

It was all very painless
When you ran out to receive
All that false instruction
Which we never could believe
And now the heart is filled with gold
As if it was a purse
But, oh, what kind of love is this
Which goes from bad to worse?

We pointed you the way to go
And scratched your name in sand
Though you just thought it was nothing more
Than a place for you to stand
I want you to know that while we watched
You discovered no one would be true
And I myself was among
The ones who thought
It was just a childish thing to do

Friday, May 20, 2016

Tony (Boston's Chosen Son)

by Steve Wynn

Set against the fading Fenway sun
Years since the last pennant had been won
Long since the Bambino had been bought
Boston found the hero it had sought

Tony, our hearts beat as one
Tony, you're Boston's chosen son
In August he was only 22
And there was nothing that he couldn't do

That bastard Hamilton threw at his head
Tony dropped, the crowd feared he was dead
Tony, our hearts bleed as one
Tony, what has that pitcher done?

But miracle of miracles on Lansdowne Street
A comeback and a home run swing returning, oh so sweet!
But it was never meant to be
Tony cried 'I cannot see!'
His eyes, they fade; the fans, they cried
And at 45 Tony died

Tony, our hearts they still ring true
Tony, we still remember you
Tony, our hearts they beat as one
Tony, you're Boston's chosen son

Monday, May 16, 2016

I Just Wasn't Made for These Times

by Tony Asher

I keep looking for a place to fit in
Where I can speak my mind
And I've been trying hard to find the people
That I won't leave behind

They say I got brains
But they ain't doing me no good
I wish they could

Each time things start to happen again
I think I got something good going for myself
But what goes wrong

Sometimes I feel very sad
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Ain't found the right thing I can put my heart and soul into)
Sometimes I feel very sad
(People I know don't wanna be where I'm at)
I guess I just wasn't made for these times

Every time I get the inspiration
To go change things around
No one wants to help me look for places
Where new things might be found

Where can I turn
When my fair-weathered friends cop out
What's it all about?

I guess I just wasn't made for these times

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

First Song That I Sing

by Sara Groves

In the morning when I rise
Help me to prioritize
All the thoughts that fill my day
Before my schedule
Tells me that my day is full
Before I'm off and on my way

I want to praise You
I need to praise You
Let the first song that I sing
Be praises to my God and King

Before the curtains part
Before my day is starting
Before I make up the bed
Before the snooze alarm
Reminds me that it's morning
Before the dreams have left my head

Before my feet hit the floor
I'll praise You, Lord
Before I fill my cup
I'll lift You up
Before I start my day
I'll sing Your praise
Before I start my car
Before I get too far

Thursday, May 5, 2016

The Golden Gates Are Lifted Up

by Cecil Francis Alexander

The golden gates are lifted up,
the doors are opened wide;
the King of glory is gone in
unto his Father's side.

Thou art gone up before us, Lord,
to make for us a place,
that we may be where now thou art,
and look upon God's face.

And ever on our earthly path
a gleam of glory lies,
a light still breaks behind the cloud
that veiled thee from our eyes.

Lift up our hearts, lift up our minds:
let thy dear grace be giv'n,
that, while we wander here below,
our treasure be in heav'n;

That where thou art, at God's right hand,
our hope, our love, may be:
dwell thou in us, that we may dwell
forevermore in thee.

Saturday, April 30, 2016

I'd Pick You Every Time

by Noel Gallagher

If I lead you to the line
Roll me over on my side
But I don't mean to be unkind
I'd pick you every time

Shine a light on all the world
Make love easier to find
I didn't mean to cross the line
I'd pick you every time

Sing for me the stories that you've heard
And I've made up my mind
As long as you'd say you'd be my girl
I would wait around for you until the end of time

Saturday, April 23, 2016

from Hamlet, Act III

by William Shakespeare

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action