Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut

by Robert Burns

O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allen cam to see;
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wadna found in Christendie.

We are na fou, we're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mae we hope to be!

It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee!

Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',
He is the King amang us three.

We are na fou, we're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

A Living Human Girl

by Lydia Night

I've got pimples on my face and grease in my hair
And prickly legs, go 'head and stare
An ass full of stretch marks and little boobs
A nice full belly that's filled with food
Sometimes I'm pretty, and sometimes I'm not
So let's take a listen, hit me with your best shot

I don't exercise, and I don't read books
And if you want to criticize me, go ahead, take a look
I'm not being bossy, I'm saying how I feel
And I'm not a bitch for stating what is real
Sometimes I'm girly, and sometimes I'm not
So let's take a listen, hit me with your best shot

I bleed once a month
Sometimes when I shave I get little red bumps
I wear short skirts and sometimes long pants
I can dress how I want, not looking for a show of hands
Sometimes I'm moody and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm lazy and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm crazy and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm angry and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm happy and sometimes I'm not

I'm still going be here even after your best shot
Because I can be brave and I can be bold
No matter what you have to say

Oh I fall in love with people once a day
But if you ask me out, I'm still allowed to say, 'no way'

Friday, January 20, 2017

It's the End of the World As We Know It

by Michael Stipe

That's great, it starts with an earthquake
Birds and snakes, an aeroplane
Lenny Bruce is not afraid

Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs, don't misserve your own needs
Feed it up a knock, speed, grunt, no, strength
The ladder starts to clatter with a fear of height, down, height
Wire in a fire, represent the seven games
And a government for hire and a combat site
Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry
With the Furies breathing down your neck

Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane, fine, then
Uh oh, overflow, population, common group
But it'll do, save yourself, serve yourself
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed
Tell me with the Rapture and the reverent in the right, right
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam fight, bright light
Feeling pretty psyched

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine

Six o'clock, T.V. hour, don't get caught in foreign tower
Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn
Lock him in uniform, book burning, bloodletting
Every motive escalate, automotive incinerate
Light a candle, light a motive, step down, step down
Watch your heel crush, crush, uh oh
This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear
A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline

The other night I dreamt a nice continental drift divide
Mountains sit in a line, Leonard Bernstein
Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs
Birthday party, cheesecake, jellybean, boom
You symbiotic, patriotic, slam but neck, right? Right!

It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine

Thursday, January 19, 2017

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

by Robert Herrick

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And, while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face

by Alan Jay Lerner

I've grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
I've grown accustomed to the tune
That she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns
Her ups, her downs

Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out and breathing in
I was serenely independent
And content before we met
Surely I could always
Be that way again
And yet...

I've grown accustomed to her look
Accustomed to her voice
Accustomed to her face

I'm so used to hear her say
'Good morning' every day
Her joys, her woes
Her highs, her lows

Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out and breathing in
I'm very grateful she's a woman
And so easy to forget
Rather like a habit
One can always break
And yet...

I've grown accustomed to the trace
Of something in the air
Accustomed to her face

Friday, January 6, 2017

Donal Óg

by Aoife O'Donovan

Black as night is this heart within me
Black as coal is this grief that drives me
Black as bootprints on polished hallways
And it's you who have blackened it forever and always

For you've taken what's before and behind me
East and west when you would not mind me
Sun, moon, and stars from the sky you've taken
And God, as well, if I'm not mistaken

Oh, Donal Óg, you'll not find me lazy
Not like some high-born expensive lady
I'll do your milking, and I'll nurse your baby
And if you were set upon, I'll defend you bravely

When all beside a vigil keep
The West's asleep, the West's asleep
Alas! and well may Erin weep
When Connaught lies in slumber deep
There lake and plain smile fair and free
'Mid rocks their guardian chivalry