For What It's Worth

by Stephen Stills

There's something happening here
But what it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware

I think it's time we stop
Children, what's that sound?
Everybody look, what's going down?

There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind

It's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look, what's going down?

What a field day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly saying, 'Hooray for our side'

It's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look, what's going down?

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
Step out of line, the men come and take you away

It's Cold Outside

by Wally Bryson

My world used to be sunny
And jokes used to be funny
But now you're gone
And everything's turned all around

My world used to be warm
And there never was a storm
But now you're gone
And everything's turned upside-down

And now it's cold outside
And the rain is pouring down
And the leaves are turning brown
Can't you see
That now it's cold outside?
And it's all because of you
'Cause there's nothing I can do
To make you love me

I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

by Tommy Dunbar

Sitting here so close
Together
So far we're just friends
But I'm wondering whether

Am I just imagining?
Or do you really have a thing for me?
Like I think I see when I see you smile
And the smile's for me

I got to tell you
Hey! You! I wanna be your boyfriend
I'm trying to say I wanna be your number one
Hey! You! I wanna be your boyfriend
Gonna make you love me before I'm done

Late at night
When I can't sleep
Picture in my mind
I see you and me

I'm telling you what I want to be
You're saying you're in love with me
And oh, it feels so good in a dream
That I know in life it's just got to be

Meditation XVII

by John Donne
from Devotions upon Emergent Occasions

Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris

Perchance, he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The church is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that body which is my head too, and ingrafted into that body whereof I am a member. And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another. As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.

There was a contention as far as a suit (in which both piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled), which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring first that rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his, whose indeed it is.

The bell doth toll for him that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that this occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbours. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did, for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

January Hymn

by Colin Meloy

On a winter's Sunday I go
To clear away the snow
And green the ground below

April all an ocean away
Is this the better way to spend the day?
Keeping the winter at bay

What were the words I meant to say before you left?
When I could see your breath
Lead where you were going to
Maybe I should just let it be
And maybe it will all come back to me
Sing, 'Oh January, oh'

How I lived a childhood in snow
And all my teens in tow
Stuffed in strata of clothes

Pale the winter days after dark
Wandering the grey memorial park
A fleeting beating of hearts

What were the words I meant to say before she left?
When I could see her breath
Lead where she were going to
Maybe I should just let it be
And maybe it will all come back to me
Sing, 'Oh January, oh'

Valley Winter Song

by Adam Schlesinger

Hey Sweet ——, don't take it so bad
You know the summer's coming soon
Though the interstate is choking under salt and dirty sand
And it seems the sun is hiding from the moon

Your daddy told you when you were a girl
The kind of things that come to those who wait
So give it a rest, girl, take a deep breath, girl
And meet me at the Bay State tonight

And the snow is coming down
On our New England town
And it's been falling all day long
What else is new?
What could I do?
I wrote a valley winter song
To play for you

And late December can drag a man down
You feel it deep in your gut
Short days and afternoons spent pottering around
In a dark house with the windows painted shut

Remember New York staring outside
As reckless winter made its way
From Staten Island to the Upper West Side
Whiting out our streets along the way

And the snow is coming down
On our New England town
And it's been falling all day long
What else is new?
What can I do?
But sing this valley winter song
I wrote for you

Wake Up Love

by Melanie Penn

My love is buried underground
A hidden landmine
When you're near, a wire's wound around
My heart tight

The weight of words as of yet unsaid
Guarded well and strong as death
I know I never know what to say
What to do or who to be
Or how to change

But this I know
I'm up in flames
Oh, I've gone up in flames

And I can feel it flashing like a fire
Bright and jealous in desire
But I won't wake up love
I won't wake up love

My love is written in the sky
An airplane's ramblings
The day's clear, my love is spelled in white
Clouds of writing

And I know you may not be ready yet
Guarded well and strong as death
I know you never know what to think
Or why you feel how you do
And who's to blame

But this I know
I won't go away
Oh, I'll never go away

I don't know a river that'll drown
Or dry it up but when it's sleeping sound
I won't wake up love
I won't wake up love

How do you wake up love?