Come As You Are

by Kurt Cobain

Come, as you are, as you were
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend
As an old enemy
Take your time, hurry up
The choice is yours, don't be late
Take a rest, as a friend
As an old memory

Come, doused in mud, soaked in bleach
As I want you to be
As a trend, as a friend
As an old memory

And I swear that I don't have a gun
No, I don't have a gun

All Future and No Past

by Steve Wynn

Spring is here, and the time is right
For unrealistic goals
Last summer some hit the bottom rung
But the new year brings high hopes

The Padres may be surprising
A Red Machine could rise again
If the Pirates are pulverizing
I want to write that storybook end

Before a game is played
Before an out is made
Before the first crack of the bat
That's when it's all future and no past

The slinging A's will be overachieving
KC could be a royal pain
The O's recent woes so deceiving
The Tribe could end up drenched in champagne

Every April brings a new slate
So under the circumstance
Let's remember the Rays of 2008
At this point everybody has a chance

Opening day
It's all future and no past

Ash Wednesday (Pt. VI)

[Pt. V here]
by T.S. Eliot

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

dying is fine but death

by e.e. cummings

dying is fine)but Death

?o
baby
i

wouldn't like

Death if Death
were
good:for

when(instead of stopping to think)you

begin to feel of it,dying
's miraculous
why?be

cause dying is

perfectly natural; perfectly
putting
it mildly lively(but

Death

is strictly
scientific
& artificial &

evil & legal)

we thank thee
god
almighty for dying
(forgive us,o life! the sin of Death

I Can Hear Music

by Jeff Barry

This is the way I only dreamed it could be
The way that it is when you are holding me
I never had a love of my own
Maybe that's why when we're all alone

I can hear music
I can hear music
Sounds of the city
Seem to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet, sweet music
Whenever you touch me
Whenever you're near

Loving you, it keeps me satisfied
And I can't explain the way I'm feeling inside
You look at me, we kiss and then
I close my eyes, and here it comes again

I can hear music
I can hear music
Sounds of the city
Seems to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet, sweet music
Whenever you touch me
Whenever you're near

Already Yesterday

by Steve Kilbey

It's already yesterday
We're off the calendar
I heard the sirens play
Just like an orchestra
Mechanical bird of prey
Sing for your emperor
Last broken flash of love
Still in the camera

We don't feel those locks and chains
We won't listen to the lizard part of our brains
Giving the orders
Another morning we'll be gone
I start the car for Ten Mile Beach
And maybe Avalon across the water

It's already yesterday
And nobody's answering
Disconnected, drift away
Nobody's questioning
Head silver, feet of clay
Who is surrendering?
They fall in our heyday
I am remembering

We can't feel those aches and pains
We won't listen to the voices in the city rain
Giving the orders
Another morning I'll be gone
I start the car for Violet Town
And then to Babylon, over the border

Elegy

by Dylan Thomas
Edited by Vernon Watkins

Too proud to die; broken and blind he died
The darkest way, and did not turn away,
A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride

On that darkest day, Oh, forever may
He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed
Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow

Young among the long flocks, and never lie lost
Or still all the numberless days of his death, though
Above all he longed for his mother's breast

Which was rest and dust, and in the kind ground
The darkest justice of death, blind and unblessed.
Let him find no rest but be fathered and found,

I prayed in the crouching room, by his blind bed,
In the muted house, one minute before
Noon, and night, and light. the rivers of the dead

Veined his poor hand I held, and I saw
Through his unseeing eyes to the roots of the sea.
(An old tormented man three-quarters blind,

I am not too proud to cry that He and he
Will never never go out of my mind.
All his bones crying, and poor in all but pain,

Being innocent, he dreaded that he died
Hating his God, but what he was was plain:
An old kind man brave in his burning pride.

The sticks of the house were his; his books he owned.
Even as a baby he had never cried;
Nor did he now, save to his secret wound.

Out of his eyes I saw the last light glide.
Here among the light of the lording sky
An old man is with me where I go

Walking in the meadows of his son's eye
On whom a world of ills came down like snow.
He cried as he died, fearing at last the spheres'

Last sound, the world going out without a breath:
Too proud to cry, too frail to check the tears,
And caught between two nights, blindness and death.

O deepest wound of all that he should die
On that darkest day. oh, he could hide
The tears out of his eyes, too proud to cry.

Until I die he will not leave my side.)