Monday, November 28, 2011

November Nights

by Gram Parsons

You say that you're restless
You say that you know me too well
You've seen all my best
And you've heard all the stories I tell
You think you've been taken for granted
You're probably right

I remember a November night
When the dawn on your doorway
Shone white with frost
And the soft love that always began
With the touch of your hand
And recall the mornings that tossed
Your hair in the wind

Time has made it meaningless
I'm not the same, you can tell
But why am I leaving
Unless time had only meant well?
There's nothing left now to excite you
No reason to try

I remember a candlelit sky
And the summer surrounding the ground
Where you and I lay
And though we were always alone
With our secrets known
We both were aware and afraid
The closeness might end

My love's like a dancer
She weaves through the dangers complete
With well-rehearsed answers
And rational reasons for feet
But if it decreases
Or ceases to always seem right

I remember a November Night
When the dawn on your doorway
Shone white with frost
And the soft love that always began
With the touch of your hand
And recall the mornings that tossed
Your hair in the wind

Thursday, November 24, 2011

For the Beauty of the Earth

by Folliot S. Pierpoint

For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the beauty of each hour,
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon, and stars of light.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of ear and eye,
For the heart and mind's delight,
For the mystic harmony
Linking sense to sound and sight.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thy Church, that evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering up on every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the martyrs' crown of light,
For Thy prophets' eagle eye,
For Thy bold confessors' might,
For the lips of infancy.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thy virgins' robes of snow,
For Thy maiden mother mild,
For Thyself, with hearts aglow,
Jesu, Victim undefiled.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For each perfect gift of Thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of Heaven.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

You Take My Breath Away

by Freddie Mercury

Look into my eyes, and you'll see I'm the only one
You've captured my love
Stolen my heart, changed my life
Every time you make a move, you destroy my mind
And the way you touch — I lose control and shiver deep inside
You take my breath away

You can reduce me to tears with a single sigh
Every breath that you take
Any sound that you make is a whisper in my ear
I could give up all my life for just one kiss
I would surely die if you dismiss me from your love
You take my breath away

So please don't go
Don't leave me here all by myself
I get ever so lonely from time to time
I will find you anywhere you go
I'll be right behind you
Right until the ends of the earth
I'll get no sleep until I find you
To tell you that you just take my breath away

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Goin' Back

by Gerry Goffin & Carole King

I think I'm going back
To the things I learnt so well in my youth
I think I'm returning to
Those days when I was young enough to know the truth

Now there are no games
To only pass the time
No more colouring books
No Christmas bells to chime
But thinking young and growing older is no sin
And I can't play the game of life to win

I can recall a time
When I wasn't ashamed to reach out to a friend
And now I think I've got
A lot more than just my toys to lend

Now there's more to do
Than watch my sailboat glide
And every day can be
My magic carpet ride
And I can play hide-and-seek with my fears
And live my days instead of counting my years

Then everyone debates
The true reality
I'd rather see the world
The way it used to be
A little bit of freedom's all we lack
So catch me if you can, I'm going back

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Deck Us All with Boston Charlie

by Walt Kelly

Deck us all with Boston Charlie,
Walla Walla, Wash., an' Kalamazoo!
Nora's freezin' on the trolley,
Swaller dollar cauliflower alley-garoo!

Don't we know archaic barrel
Lullaby Lilla Boy, Louisville Lou?
Trolley Molly don't love Harold,
Boola boola Pensacoola hullabaloo!

Bark us all bow-wows of folly,
Polly wolly cracker 'n' too-da-loo!
Donkey Bonny brays a carol,
Antelope Cantaloupe, 'lope with you!

Hunky Dory's pop is lolly gaggin' on the wagon,
Willy, folly go through!
Chollie's collie barks at Barrow,
Harum scarum five alarm bung-a-loo!

Dunk us all in bowls of barley,
Hinky dinky dink an' polly voo!
Chilly Filly's name is Chollie,
Chollie Filly's jolly chilly view halloo!

Bark us all bow-wows of folly,
Double-bubble, toyland trouble! Woof, woof, woof!
Tizzy seas on melon collie!
Dibble-dabble, scribble-scrabble! Goof, goof, goof!

Friday, November 11, 2011

For the Fallen

by Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
————— mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal,
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation,
And a glory that shines upon her tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the daytime;
They sleep beyond —————'s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known,
As the stars are known to the night.

As the stars will be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Friday, November 4, 2011

from The Catcher in the Rye

by J.D. Salinger

Lawyers are all right, I guess — but it doesn't appeal to me. I mean they're all right if they go around saving innocent guys' lives all the time, and like that, but you don't do that kind of stuff if you're a lawyer. All you do is make a lot of dough and play golf and play bridge and buy cars and drink Martinis and look like a hot-shot. And besides. Even if you did go around saving guys' lives and all, how would you know if you did it because you really wanted to save guys' lives, or because you did it because what you really wanted to do was be a terrific lawyer, with everybody slapping you on the back and congratulating you in court when the goddam trial was over, the reporters and everybody, the way it is in the dirty movies? How would you know you weren't being a phony? The trouble is, you wouldn't.