raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
raineth drop
and staineth slop
and how the wind doth ram
you can say that again
but please don't
My word, edgar. How wonderful is your persistence, Texas. Ah, yes. I see you know Ezra. Don't you love his rebellion?
Which is which, dj, do you know, Canada?
Well, folks, I found this former poet laureate and here is a poem we shan't forget:
Forgetfulness
The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,
as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.
Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,
something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.
Whatever it is you are struggling to remember
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.
It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even
forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.
No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.
Billy Collins
Sorry. I became aggravated and did that against my own better judgement. I did not suspect it would post that many times, since it ordinarily has a multiple post protection.
FANNERIO
arranged and adapted by Judy Collins
Chorus:
As we march down to Fannerio
As we march down to Fannerio
Our captain fell in love with a lady like a dove
And we called her by her name pretty Peggy-O
What will your mother think pretty Peggy-O?
What will your mother think pretty Peggy-O?
What will your mother think but I hear the guineas clink?
And the soldiers marchin' behind you O.
You shall ride in a coach pretty Peggy-O
You shall ride in a coach pretty Peggy-O
You shall ride in a coach with your true love by your side
As fine as any lady in the country O
And when I return pretty Peggy-O
When I return pretty Peggy-O
When I return, the city I will burn
And destroy all the ladies in the country O
Come trippin' down the stairs pretty Peggy-O
Come trippin' down the stairs pretty Peggy-O
Come trippin' down the stairs combin' back your yellow hair
Bid your last farewell to sweet William-O
Sweet William he is dead pretty Peggy-O
Sweet William is dead pretty Peggy-O
Sweet William is dead and he died for a maid
He's buried in the Louisiana country O
Good morning WA2K fans and contributors.
Hey, edgar. No problem. We expect an attack from a Texas Rex occasionally. Keeps things interesting; however, I was afraid that you had defaced the data base.
That was an unusual Judy Collins song. Thanks for playing it.
Well, folks, this is the long weekend of the 4th of July celebration in the states. Wonder what the Brits are doing?
Need coffee, so back later if things are still working.
something by a June 30th celeb (we hope it lets up on the East Cost US)
Don't know why
There's no sun up in the sky
Stormy weather
Since my man and I ain't together
Keeps rainin' all of the time
Life is bare
Gloom and misery everywhere
Stormy weather
Just can't get my poor self together
I'm weary all the time
All the time
So weary all of the time
When you went away
The blues stepped up and met me
If he's gone to stay
That old rocking chair's going to get me
Every night I pray
That the Lord above will let me
Walk in the sunlight once more
I can't go on
Everything I had is gone
Stormy weather
Since my man and I ain't together
Keeps rainin' all of the time
Keeps rainin' all of the time
There's our Mr. Turtle, folks. Good to see you back with us, honey. Well, in my neighborhood it is rainless, but I am aware of the problems in Pennsylvania; however, all seems to be well now. Love that song, m.d. and I do believe Lena sang that one.
Just noticed, listeners, that the penny may well be scraped in the U.S. Well, what will I do with the jars filled with pseudo copper? Perhaps some jewelry?
For the vanishing penny:
Every time it rains, it rains pennies from heaven
Don't you know each cloud contains pennies from heaven?
You'll find your fortune's fallin' all over the town
Be sure that your umbrella is upside down
Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers
If you want the things you love, you must have showers
So, when you hear it thunder, don't run under a tree
There'll be pennies from heaven for you and me
[lengthy instrumental-sax solo and then brass]
Every time, every time it rains, it's gonna rain pennies from
heaven
Don't you know every cloud contains lots of pennies from
heaven
You'll find your fortune's fallin', baby, all over the town
Be sure, be sure that your umbrella is upside down
Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers
If you want the things you love, you've got to have showers
So, when you hear it thunder, don't run under a tree
There'll be pennies from heaven for you and me
