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in another thread dys is railing against the idea of a "sin tax"

so here's a couple of songs by the petshop boys that deal with sin and money

It's A Sin
Pet Shop
-------------
(Twenty seconds and counting...
T minus fifteen seconds, guidance is okay)

When I look back upon my life
It's always with a sense of shame
I've always been the one to blame
For everything I long to do
No matter when or where or who
Has one thing in common, too

It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin
It's a sin
Everything I've ever done
Everything I ever do
Every place I've ever been
Everywhere I'm going to
It's a sin

At school they taught me how to be
So pure in thought and word and deed
They didn't quite succeed
For everything I long to do
No matter when or where or who
Has one thing in common, too

It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin
It's a sin
Everything I've ever done
Everything I ever do
Every place I've ever been
Everywhere I'm going to
It's a sin

Father, forgive me, I tried not to do it
Turned over a new leaf, then tore right through it
Whatever you taught me, I didn't believe it
Father, you fought me, 'cause I didn't care
And I still don't understand

So I look back upon my life
Forever with a sense of shame
I've always been the one to blame
For everything I long to do
No matter when or where or who
Has one thing in common, too

It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin
It's a sin
Everything I've ever done
Everything I ever do
Every place I've ever been
Everywhere I'm going to - it's a sin
It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin
It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin

(Confiteor Deo omnipotenti vobis fratres, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione,
verbo, opere et omissione, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa)
[trans. "I confess to almighty God,
and to you my brothers,
that I have sinned exceedingly
in thought, word, act and omission,
through my fault, through my fault,
through my most grievous fault"]

(Zero!)


Opportunities (Let's Make Lots Of Money)
Pet Shop Boys

I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, I've got the brains
Let's make lots of -

I've had enough of scheming and messing around with jerks
My car is parked outside, I'm afraid it doesn't work
I'm looking for a partner, someone who gets things fixed
Ask yourself this question: Do you want to be rich?

I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, I've got the brains
Let's make lots of money

You can tell I'm educated, I studied at the Sorbonne
Doctored in mathematics, I could have been a don
I can program a computer, choose the perfect time
If you've got the inclination, I have got the crime

Oh, there's a lot of opportunities
If you know when to take them, you know?
There's a lot of opportunities
If there aren't, you can make them
Make or break them

I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
Let's make lots of -
(Aahhhhh) Money
(Aahhhhh)
(Aahhhhh - Di du da di da bu di ba)

You can see I'm single-minded, I know what I could be
How'd you feel about it, come and take a walk with me?
I'm looking for a partner, regardless of expense
Think about it seriously, you know, it makes sense

Let's (Got the brains)
Make (Got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (Oohh money)
(Let's) You've got the brawn
(Make) I've got the brains
Let's make lots of money (Oohh money)

I've got the brains (Got the brains)
You've got the looks (Got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (Oohh money)
Money

Ah, dj. Maybe I should reword that. Perhaps music is the universal language. Thanks, Canada. I just got out of my lacrymose mood.<smile>

Hey! What happened to RexReed?

here's rex reed, im pretty sure you're thing of RexRed

Well, dj, Raquel looks familiar, but is that the RexReed Of Victor/Victoria?

Hey, listeners. I just thought of something. From whence cometh the expression scot free?

and it has absolutely nothing to do with Duncan or McTag either. <smile>

A Scandinavian word meaning "payment."

FINLAND
=======

Chorus:
Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I want to be,
Pony trekking or camping,
Or just watching TV,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
It's the country for me.

Verse:
You're so near to Russia,
So far from Japan,
Quite a long way from Cairo,
Lots of miles from Vietnam.

Chorus:
Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I want to be,
Eating breakfast or dinner,
Or snack lunch in the hall,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

Verse:
You're so sadly neglected,
And often ignored,
A poor second to Belgium,
When going abroad.

Chorus:
Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

Repeat:
Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

Fade...
Finland has it all...

Well, here's our edgar. Hey, Texas, glad you're here and off that Jerry lee kick.

I'm not certain, but the idea came from dj's mention of a sin tax.

Want to try again?

Well, folks. It's that time of evening for me. How about an evening song.

As with the word hopscotch, scot free has no connection with Scotsmen, frugal or otherwise. It's a Scandinavian word meaning "payment". The expression derives from a medieval municipal tax levied in proportional shares on inhabitants, often for poor relief. This was called a scot, as an abbreviation of the full term scot and lot, where scot was the sum to be paid and lot was one's allotted share. (This tax lasted a long time, in some places such as Westminster down to the electoral reforms of 1832, with only those paying scot and lot being allowed to vote.) So somebody who avoided paying his share of the town's expenses for some reason got off scot free. It was also used for a payment or reckoning, especially one's share of the cost of an entertainment; when one settled up, one "paid for one's scot". Again, someone who evaded paying their share of the tab got off scot free. It's been suggested that this usage may have come from the old habit of noting purchases of drinks and the like by making marks on a slate, or scotching it, but the evidence suggests this is just a popular etymology, and that the usage comes from the same idea of a sum due to be paid.

er, dj. How did you get off the sin tax and on the Finlandia song?

It's okay by me, listeners, but I am trying to preserve the formula of radio to some degree.

Hey, folks. How about this one for our temperatures:









98.6
Keith
(written by G. Fischoff/T.Powers)

Good morning sun I say it's good to see you shine!
I know my baby brought you tooooo me.
She kissed me yesterday, I know the silver lining
That's been with summer running through me

Hey, ninety eight point six, it's good to have you back again. oh,
Hey, ninety eight point six, her lovin' is the medicine that
saaaved me,
Oh, I love my baby.

Hey, everybody on the street: I see you smilin',
Must be because I found my baaaaaby.
You know she's got me on some other kind of hiiighway,
I want to go to where it taaaaakes me!

Hey, ninety eight point six, it's good to have you back again. oh,
Hey, ninety eight point six her lovin' is the medicine that saaaved
me,
Oh, I love my baby.

You know she's got me on another kind of hiiighway.
I want to go to where it taaaaakes me.

Hey, ninety eight point six, it's good to have you back again. Oh,
Hey, ninety eight point six, her lovin' is the medicine that
saaaved me.
Oh, I love my baby...

And that, listeners is an antithesis to in the cool, cool, cool of the evening.

i just played off edgars mention of scandinavia

Ok, edgar. I was simply thinking tax free. I think that I mentioned it had nothing to do with Scotland.

I'm so Worried
from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album

I'm so worried about what's hapenin' today, in the middle east, you know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about the fashions today, I don't think they're good for your
feet.
And I'm so worried about the shows on TV that sometimes they want to repeat.

I'm so worried about what's happenin' today, you know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about my hair falling out and the state of the world today.
And I'm so worried about bein' so full of doubt about everything, anyway.

I'm so worried about modern technology.
I'm so worried about all the things that they dump in the sea.
I'm so worried about it, worried about it, worried, worried, worried.

I'm so worried about everything that can go wrong.
I'm so worried about whether people like this song.
I'm so worried about this very next verse, it isn't the best that I've got.
And I'm so worried about whether I should go on, or whether I should just stop.

(pause)

I'm worried about whether I ought to have stopped.
And I'm worried about, it's the sort of thing I ought to know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.

(longer pause)

I'm so worried about whether I should have stopped then.
I'm so worried that I'm driving everyone 'round the bend.
(singer starts to weep as he sings)
I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.

Well, you see, dj. I am a little behind, because I'm a slow poke. Other folks slip in our studio before I have a chance to spin.

The Decomposing Composers
from Monty Python's Contractual Obligations Album

Beethoven's gone, but his music lives on,
And Mozart don't go shopping no more.
You'll never meet Lizst or Brahms again,
And Elgar doesn't answer the door.

Schubert and Chopin used to chuckle and laugh,
Whilst composing a long symphony.
But one hundred and fifty years later,
There's very little of them left to see.

The decomposing composers,
There's not much anyone can do.
You can still hear Beethoven,
But Beethoven cannot hear you.

Handel and Haydn and Rachmaninoff
Enjoyed a nice drink with their meal.
But nowadays no one will serve them,
And their gravy is left to congeal.

Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds
With their highly original sounds.
The pianos they play are still working,
But they're both six feet underground.

The decomposing composers,
There's less of them every year.
You can say what you like to
But there's not much of them left to hear.

Claude Achil Debussy. Died, 1918.
Christoph Willibald Gluck. Died, 1787.
Carl Maria von Weber. Not at all well, 1825.
Died, 1826.
Giacomo Meierbeer. Still alive, 1863.
Not still alive, 1864.
Modest Mussorgsky. 1880, going to parties.
No fun anymore, 1881.
Johann Nepomuk Hummel. Chattin' away 19 'an a dozen with his friends down at
the Pub every evenin', 1836.
1837, nothing.

Galaxy Song
Monty Python

Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour,
That's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power.
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call the 'Milky Way'.
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side.
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick,
But out by us, it's just three thousand light years wide.
We're thirty thousand light years from galactic central point.
We go 'round every two hundred million years,
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.

The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth.

The decomposing composers? I love it, dj.

Hey, listeners. Back later cause I have to eat.

The We Were Poor Sketch
Monty Python

Four well-dressed men sitting together at a vacation resort. "Farewell to Thee" being played in the background on Hawaiian guitar.

Michael Palin: Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable.

Graham Chapman: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier wine, ay Gessiah?

Terry Gilliam: You're right there Obediah.

Eric Idle: Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine?

MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup o' tea.

GC: A cup ' COLD tea.

EI: Without milk or sugar.

TG: OR tea!

MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.

EI: We never used to have a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.

GC: The best WE could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.

TG: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.

MP: Aye. BECAUSE we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness."

EI: 'E was right. I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'. We used to live in this tiiiny old house, with greaaaaat big holes in the roof.

GC: House? You were lucky to have a HOUSE! We used to live in one room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture. Half the floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of FALLING!

TG: You were lucky to have a ROOM! *We* used to have to live in a corridor!

MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of livin' in a corridor! Woulda' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House!? Hmph.

EI: Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpaulin, but it was a house to US.

GC: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and live in a lake!

TG: You were lucky to have a LAKE! There were a hundred and sixty of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road.

MP: Cardboard box?

TG: Aye.

MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down mill for fourteen hours a day, week in, week out. When we got home, our Dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!

GC: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we were LUCKY!

TG: Well we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and LICK the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.

EI: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), eat a lump of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing "Hallelujah."

MP: But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't believe ya'.

ALL: Nope, nope.

Ah, dj. The way it used to be.

Don't you love it, listeners?

Well, the time has come to say goodnight.

David Kersh
» Goodnight Sweetheart

Window seat thirty thousand feet above the ground
Blue moon beams on silver wings brings me down
Slippin' off my coat for the long night flight
I find a note she wrote last night
I can almost hear those words as I close my eyes
Chorus:
Goodnight, sweetheart, sleep tight, wherever you are
God hold you in his arms while we're apart
Though you're far away your love will stay
Tucked away here in my heart
Goodnight, sweetheart, sleep tight, wherever you are
These days I leave
The one who needs me more and more it seems
It's a high price that she pays for the dreams I dream, so
Chorus
Goodnight sweetheart, sleep tight, wherever you are

From Letty with love

Old King Cole

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his privates three

"Beer, beer, beer", said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his corporals three

Hup two said the corporals
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his sergeants three

Yeahhhhh, said the sergeants
Hup two said the corporals
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl

And he called for his shavetails three

We do all the work said the shavetails
Yeahhhh, said the sergeants
March you dump watch said the corporals
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his captains three

Oh don't be late for the dance said the captains
We do all the work, said the shavetails
Yeahhhhh said the sergeants
March to the guardhouse said the corporals
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his chaplains three

Oh what a bloody mess, amen amen hallelujah
Oh don't be late for the dance, said the captains
We do all the work, said the shavetails
Yeahhhh said the sergeants
Put it in a bucket said the corporals
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his colonels three

Oh what a lovely war, said the colonels
Oh what a bloody mess, amen, amen hallelujah
Oh don't be late for the dance said the captains
We do al the work said the shavetails
Yeahhhhh said the sergeants
March to the end said the corporals
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
Called for his pipe
And he called for his bowl
And he called for his generals three

Thuh, thuh, Oh come on fellahs, give a fellah break,
Uh what's my next command said the generals
Oh what a lovely war said the colonels
Oh what a bloody mess, amen,
Oh what a bloody mess said the captains
Oh what a bloody mess, said the shavetails
Oh what a bloody mess, said the sergeants
Oh what a bloody mess said the sergeants
Beer, beer, beer said the privates
Merry men are we
There's none so fair as can compare
With the Fighting Infantry