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Did we do this one yet?


Raindrops keep falling on my head... And just like the guy whose feet
are too big for his bed, nothing seems to fit. Those raindrops are
falling on my head, they keep falling.

So I just did me some talking to the sun. And I said I didn't like the
way, he got things done... sleeping on the job... those raindrops are
falling on my head, they keep falling.

But there's one thing I know: The blues they send to meet me won't
defeat me. It won't be long till happiness sleps up to greet me.

Raindrops keep falling on my head but that doesn't mean my eyes will
soon be turning red. Crying's not for me cause I'm never gonna stop
the rain by complaining. Because I'm free. Nothing's worrying
me.


What about this?

Well this town has closed down, way too early
And there's nothing to do
So I'm driving around in circles
And I'm thinking about you
Today I heard you got a new last name
I sure didn't know it was gonna hit me this way
And the radio just keeps on playing all these
Songs About Rain...

Now there's all kinds of songs about babies
and love that goes right,
But for some unknown reason
Nobody wants to play them tonight,
Hey, I hope it's sunny wherever you are
That's sure not the picture, tonight in my car
And it sure ain't easin' my pain
All these songs like...

"Rainy Night In Georgia"
and "Kentucky Rain"
"Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again",
"Blue Eyes Cryin" in the "Early Morning Rain"
They go on and on, and there's no two the same
Oh it would be easy to blame all these
Songs About Rain

Well, I thought I was over you
But I guess maybe I'm not
'Cause when I let you go
Looks like lonely is all that I got
I guess I'll never know what could have been
it sure ain't helping this mood that I'm in
If they're gonna keep on playin these songs like...

"Rainy Night In Georgia"
and "Kentucky Rain"
"Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again",
"Blue Eyes Cryin" in the "Early Morning Rain"
They go on and on, and there's no two the same
Oh how I wish I could blame all these
Songs About Rain

All these Songs About Rain...

Another Song About The Rain
Cracker

Wind of fate has pried us loose
Light of mercy hurts my eyes
Is it worth the things you lose
To board the train and watch the sky

BREAK:
I sing myself to sleep at night
I sing myself to sleep

CHORUS:
Another song about the rain
Coming down it burns through me
Another song about the rain

got a line straight from my heart
was a time it ran to you.
Another place where we were smart
Before the flood and time was through

REPEAT BRIDGE

REPEAT CHORUS

Sorry now I never made you see
Sorry now sounds so far away
Will our child cry for me
When he hears the dragon's flame

Highway flares make red the streets
My fingers spin the dial again
But every station's on to me, yeah

(Another song about the rain) Another song about the rain
(Another song about the rain) Another song about the rain
(Another song about the rain) Another song about the rain
(Another song about the rain) Never rained so viciously

some more dr seuss

The Zax
Dr. Seuss

One day, making tracks
In the prairie of Prax,
Came a North-Going Zax
And a South-Going Zax.

And it happened that both of them came to a place
Where they bumped. There they stood.
Foot to foot. Face to face.

"Look here, now!" the North-Going Zax said, "I say!
You are blocking my path. You are right in my way.
I'm a North-Going Zax and I always go north.
Get out of my way, now, and let me go forth!"

"Who's in whose way?" snapped the South-Going Zax.
"I always go south, making south-going tracks.
So you're in MY way! And I ask you to move
And let me go south in my south-going groove."

Then the North-Going Zax puffed his chest up with pride.
"I never," he said, "take a step to one side.
And I'll prove to you that I won't change my ways
If I have to keep standing here fifty-nine days!"

"And I'll prove to YOU," yelled the South-Going Zax,
"That I can stand here in the prairie of Prax
For fifty-nine years! For I live by a rule
That I learned as a boy back in South-Going School.
Never budge! That's my rule. Never budge in the least!
Not an inch to the west! Not an inch to the east!
I'll stay here, not budging! I can and I will
If it makes you and me and the whole world stand still!"

Well...
Of course the world didn't stand still. The world grew.
In a couple of years, the new highway came through
And they built it right over those two stubborn Zax
And left them there, standing un-budged in their tracks.


The Sneetches
Dr. Seuss

Now, the Star-Bell Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars.

Those stars weren't so big. They were really so small
You might think such a thing wouldn't matter at all.

But, because they had stars, all the Star-Belly Sneetches
Would brag, "We're the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches."
With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they'd snort
"We'll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!"
And, whenever they met some, when they were out walking,
They'd hike right on past them without even talking.

When the Star-Belly children went out to play ball,
Could a Plain Belly get in the game? Not at all.
You only could play if your bellies had stars
And the Plain-Belly children had none upon thars.

When the Star Belly Sneetches had frankfurter roasts
Or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,
They never invited the Plain-Belly Sneetches
They left them out cold, in the dark of the beaches.
They kept them away. Never let them come near.
And that's how they treated them year after year.

Then ONE day, it seems while the Plain-Belly Sneetches
Were moping and doping alone on the beaches,
Just sitting there wishing their bellies had stars,
A stranger zipped up in the strangest of cars!

"My friends", he announced in a voice clear and clean,
"My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean. And I've heard of
Your troubles. I've heard you're unhappy. But I can fix
That I'm the Fix-It-Up Chappie. I've come here to help
You. I have what you need. And my prices are low. And
I work with great speed. And my work is one hundred per cent guaranteed!"

Then, quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean
Put together a very peculiar machine.
And he said, "You want stars like a Star-Belly Sneetch? My friends, you can
Have them for three dollars each!"

"Just pay me your money and hop right aboard!"
So they clambered inside. Then the big machine roared.
And it klonked. And it bonked. And it jerked. And it berked.
And it bopped them about. But the thing really worked!
When the Plain-Belly Sneetches popped out, they had stars!
They actually did. They had stars upon thars!

Then they yelled at the ones who had stars at the start,
"We're still the best Sneetches and they are the worst.
But now, how in the world will we know", they all frowned,
"If which kind is what, or the other way round?"

Then up came McBean with a very sly wink. And he said, "Things
are not quite as bad as you think. So you don't know who's who.
That is perfectly true. But come with me, friends. Do you know
what I'll do? I'll make you, again, the best Sneetches on the beaches.
And all it will cost you is ten dollars eaches."

"Belly stars are no longer in style", said McBean.
"What you need is a trip through my Star-Off Machine. This
Wondrous contraption will take OFF your stars so you won't
Look like Sneetches that have them on thars."
And that handy machine working very precisely
Removed all the stars from their tummies quite nicely.

Then, with snoots in the air, they paraded about. And they opened
Their beaks and they let out a shout, "We know who is who! Now there
Isn't a doubt. The best kind of Sneetches are Sneetches without!"

Then, of course, those with stars got all frightfully mad.
To be wearing a star was frightfully bad. Then, of course, old
Sylvester McMonkey McBean invited THEM into his Star-Off Machine.

Then, of course from THEN on, as you probably guess,
Things really got into a horrible mess.

All the rest of that day, on those wild screaming beaches,
The Fix-It-Up Chappie kept fixing up Sneetches.
Off again! On again! In again! Out again!
Through the machines they raced round and about again,
Changing their stars every minute or two. They kept paying money.
They kept running through until the Plain nor the Star-Bellies knew
Whether this one was that one or that one was this one. Or which one
Was what one or what one was who.

Then, when every last cent of their money was spent,
The Fix-It-Up Chappie packed up. And he went. And he laughed as he drove
In his car up the beach, "They never will learn. No. You can't
Teach a Sneetch!"

But McBean was quite wrong. I'm quite happy to say.
That the Sneetches got really quite smart on that day.
The day they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches.
And no kind of Sneetch is the best on the beaches.
That day, all the Sneetches forgot about stars and whether
They had one, or not, upon thars.

Well, my goodness. Everyone is singing rain but John of London, and he is singing a love song. How delightful, Brit. We were concerned about you.

dj, sneetches on beaches was the first thing that I read involving flim flams and wonderful advice about being different when everyone else is mainstreaming. Thanks, Canada. Definitely a Thoreau theme.

Ah, shari, Rainy Night in Georgia. Such wonderful memories. Brook Benton, right?

Try, you are a caution. Fanny Brice? Didn't Barbra do her life story on the silver screen?

It is so very quiet and still here, and a mite chilly, but exhilarating.

perhaps my fave dr. s poem of all

The Lorax
Dr. Seuss

At the far end of town
where the Grickle-grass grows
and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows
and no birds ever sing excepting old crows...
is the Street of the Lifted Lorax.

And deep in the Grickle-grass, some people say,
if you look deep enough you can still see, today,
where the Lorax once stood
just as long as it could
before somebody lifted the Lorax away.

What was the Lorax?
Any why was it there?
And why was it lifted and taken somewhere
from the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows?
The old Once-ler still lives here.
Ask him. He knows.

You won't see the Once-ler.
Don't knock at his door.
He stays in his Lerkim on top of his store.
He stays in his Lerkim, cold under the roor,
where he makes his own clothes
out of miff-muffered moof.
And on special dank midnights in August,
he peeks
out of the shutters
and sometimes he speaks
and tells how the Lorax was lifted away.
He'll tell you, perhaps...
if you're willing to pay.

On the end of a rope
he lets down a tin pail
and you have to toss in fifteen cents
and a nail
and the shell of a great-great-great-
grandfather snail.

Then he pulls up the pail,
makes a most careful count
to see if you've paid him
the proper amount.

Then he hides what you paid him
away in his Snuvv,
his secret strange hole
in his gruvvulous glove.
Then he grunts, I will call you by Whisper-ma-Phone,
for the secrets I tell you are for your ears alone.

SLUPP
Down slupps the Whisper-ma-Phone to your ear
and the old Once-ler´s whispers are not very clear,
since they have to come down
through a snergelly hose,
and he sounds
as if he had
smallish bees up his nose.
Now I´ll tell you, he says, with his teeth sounding gray,
how the Lorax got lifted and taken away...
It all started way back...
such a long, long time back...

Way back in the days when the grass was still green
and the pond was still wet
and the clouds were still clean,
and the song of the Swomee-Swans rang out in space...
one morning, I came to this glorious place.
And I first saw the trees!
The Truffula Trees!
The bright-colored tufts of the Truffula Trees!
Mile after mile in the fresh morning breeze.

And under the trees, I saw Brown Bar-ba-loots
frisking about in their Bar-ba-loot suits
as the played in the shade and ate Truffula Fruits.

From the rippulous pond
came the comfortable sound
of the Humming-Fish humming
while splashing around.

But those trees! Those trees!
Those Truffula Trees!
All my life I´d been searching
for trees such as these.
The touch of their tufts
was much softer than silk.
And they had the sweet smell
of fresh butterfly milk.

I felt a great leaping
of joy in my heart.
I knew just what I´d do!
I unloaded my cart.

In no time at all, I had built a small shop.
Then I chopped down a Truffula Tree with one chop.
And with great skillful skill and with great speedy speed,
I took the soft tuft. And I knitted a Thneed!

The instant I´d finished, I heard a ga-Zump!
I looked.
I saw something pop out of the stump
of the tree I´d chopped down. It was sort of a man.
Describe him?...That´s hard. I don't know if I can.

He was shortish. And oldish.
And brownish. And mossy.
And he spoke with a voice
that was sharpish and bossy.

Mister! he said with a sawdusty sneeze,
I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues.
And I'm asking you, sir, at the top of my lungs--
he was very upset as he shouted and puffed--
What's that THING you've made out of my Truffula tuft?

Look, Lorax, I said. There's no cause for alarm.
I chopped just one tree. I am doing no harm.
I'm being quite useful. This thing is a Thneed.
A Thneed´s a Fine-Something-That-All-People-Need!
It's a shirt. It´s a sock. It´s a glove. It´s a hat.
But it has other uses. Yes, far beyond that.
You can use it for carpets. For pillows! For sheets!
Or curtains! Or covers for bicycle seats!
The Lorax said,
Sir! You are crazy with greed.
There is no one on earth
who would buy that fool Thneed!

But the very next minute I proved he was wrong.
For, just at that minute, a chap came along,
and he thought that the Thneed I had knitted was great.
He happily bought it for three ninety-eight.
I laughed at the Lorax, You poor stupid guy!
You never can tell what some people will buy.

I repeat, cried the Lorax,
I speak for the trees!

I'm busy, I told him.
Shut up, if you please.
I rushed ´cross the room, and in no time at all,
built a radio-phone. I put in a quick call.
I called all my brothers and uncles and aunts
and I said, Listen here! Here's a wonderful chance
for the whole Once-ler Family to fet mighty rich!
Get over here fast! Take the road to North Nitch.
Turn left at Weehawken. Sharp right at South Stich.

And, in no time at all,
in the factory I built,
the whole Once-ler Family
was working full tilt.
We were all knitting Thneeds
just as busy as bees,
to the sound of the chopping
of Truffula Trees.

Then...
Oh! Baby! Oh!
How my business did grow!
Now, chopping one tree
at a time
was too slow.

So I quickly invented my Super-Axe-Hacker
which whacked off four Truffula Trees at one smacker.
We were making Thneeds
four times as fast as before!
And that Lorax?... He didn't show up any more.

But the next week
he knocked
on my new office door.
He snapped, I'm the Lorax who speaks for the trees
which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please.
But I'm also in charge of the Brown Bar-ba-loots
who played in the shade in their Bar-ba-loot suits
and happily lived, eating Truffula Fruits.
NOW...thanks to your hacking my trees to the ground,
there's not enough Truffula Fruit to go ´round.
And my poor Bar-ba-loots are all getting the crummies
because they have gas, and no food, in their tummies!

They loved living here. But I can't let them stay.
They'll have to find food. And I hope that they may.
Good lick, boys, he cried. And he sent them away.

I, the Once-ler, felt sad
as I watched them all go.
BUT...
business is business!
And business must grow
regardless of crummies in tummies, you know.

I meant no harm. I most truly did not.
But I had to grow bigger. So bigger I got.
I biggered my factory. I biggered my roads.
I biggered my wagons. I biggered the loads
of the Thneeds I shipped out. I was shipping them forth
to the South! To the East! To the West! To the North!
I went right on biggering...selling more Thneeds.
And I biggered my money, which everyone needs.

Then again he came back! I was fixing some pipes
when that old nuisance Lorax came back with more gripes.
I am the Lorax, he coughed and he whiffed.
He sneezed and he snuffled. He snarggled. He sniffed.
Once-ler! he cried with a cruffulous croak.
Once-ler! You're making such smogulous smoke!
My poor Swomee-Swans...why, they can't sing a note!
No one can sing who has smog in his throat.

And so, said the Lorax,
--please pardon my cough--
they cannot live here.
So I'm sending them off.

Where will they go?...
I don't hopefully know.
They may have to fly for a month...or a year...
To escape from the smog you've smogged-up around here.

What's more, snapped the Lorax. (His dander was up.)
Let me say a few words about Gluppity-Glupp.
Your machinery chugs on, day and night without stop
making Gluppity-Glup. Also Schloppity-Schlopp.
And what do you do with this leftover goo?...
I´ll show you. You dirty old Once-ler man, you!

You're glumping the pond where the Humming-Fish hummed!
No more can they hum, for their gills are all gummed.
So I'm sending them off. Oh, their future is dreary.
They'll walk on their fins and get woefully weary
in search of some water that isn't so smeary.

And then I got mad.
I got terribly mad.
I yelled at the Lorax, Now listen here, Dad!
All you do is yap-yap and say, Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!
Well, I have my rights, sir, and I'm telling you
I intend to go on doing just what I do!
And, for your information, you Lorax, I'm figgering
on biggering
and BIGGERING
and BIGGERING
and BIGGERING,
turning MORE Truffula Trees into Thneeds
which everyone, EVERYONE, EVERYONE needs!

And at that very moment, we heard a loud whack!
From outside in the fields came a sickening smack
of an axe on a tree. Then we heard the tree fall.
The very last Truffula Tree of them all!

No more trees. No more Thneeds. No more work to be done.
So, in no time, my uncles and aunts, every one,
all waved my good-bye. They jumped into my cars
and drove away under the smoke-smuggered stars.

Now all that was left ´neath the bad-smelling sky
was my big empty factory...
the Lorax...
and I.

The Lorax said nothing. Just gave me a glance...
just gave me a very sad, sad backward glance...
as he lifted himself by the seat of his pants.
And I´ll never forget the grim look on his face
when he heisted himself and took leave of this place,
through a hole in the smog, without leaving a trace.

And all that the Lorax left here in this mess
was a small pile of rocks, with one word...
UNLESS.
Whatever that meant, well, I just couldn't guess.

That was long, long ago.
But each day since that day
I've sat here and worried
and worried away.
Through the years, while my buildings
have fallen apart,
I've worried about it
with all of my heart.

But now, says the Once-ler,
Now that you're here,
the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.
UNLESS someone like you
cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better.
It´s not.

SO...
Catch! calls the Once-ler.
He lets something fall.
It´s a Truffula Seed.
It´s the last one of all!
You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.
And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.
Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care.
Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air.
Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax
and all of his friends
may come back.

Ah, dj. a lomax. What a clever person with coined and wonderful words our doctor had, but always with an underlying message. I think he may even outdo Lewis Caroll.

But, I have fond memories of this wonderful man:

The Land of Counterpane
Robert Louis Stevenson


When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bedclothes, through the hills.
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
Up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.

love carroll as well, listend to both alice audio books today at work

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER

"The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright --
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done --
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead --
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
`If this were only cleared away,'
They said, `it would be grand!'

`If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
`That they could get it clear?'
`I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

`O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
The Walrus did beseech.
`A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head --
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shows were clean and neat --
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more --
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

`The time has come,' the Walrus said,
`To talk of many things:
Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing-wax --
Of cabbages -- and kings --
And why the sea is boiling hot --
And whether pigs have wings.'

`But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
`Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!'
`No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

`A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
`Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed --
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.'

`But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
`After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!'
`The night is fine,' the Walrus said.
`Do you admire the view?

`It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
`Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf --
I've had to ask you twice!'

`It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
`To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
`The butter's spread too thick!'

`I weep for you,' the Walrus said:
`I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

`O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
`You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none --
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.


YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM

You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it would injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray, what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box --
Allow me to sell you a couple."

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth; one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose --
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!"

In spring, when woods are getting green,
I'll try and tell you what I mean.

In summer, when the days are long,
Perhaps you'll understand the song:

In autumn, when the leaves are brown,
Take pen and ink, and write it down.

I sent a message to the fish:
I told them This is what I wish.

The little fishes of the sea,
They sent an answer back to me.

The little fishes' answer was
We cannot do it, Sir, because

I sent to them again to say
It will be better to obey.

The fishes answered with a grin,
Why, what a temper you are in!

I told them once, I told them twice:
They would not listen to advice.

I took a kettle large and new,
Fit for the deed I had to do.

My heart went hop, my heart went thump;
I filled the kettle at the pump.

Then some one came to me and said,
The little fishes are in bed.

I said to him, I said it plain,
Then you must wake them up again.

I said it very loud and clear;
I went and shouted in his ear.'

But he was very stiff and proud;
He said You needn't shout so loud!

And he was very proud and stiff;
He said I'd go and wake them, if --

I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
I went to wake them up myself.

And when I found the door was locked,
I pulled and pushed and knocked.

And when I found the door was shut,
I tried to turn the handle, but -- '

Ah, dj. those books were made for kids, but adults can still glean something from them all. I still recall the caterpillar sitting atop a mushroom smoking a hookah.

As they speak of "buttercup" on another thread, I recall this man and realized that Jacques Brel was the first. Can you make the connection, listeners:


Alone Again, Naturally

(Gilbert O'Sullivan)

In a little while from now,
If I'm not feeling any less sour.
I promised myself, to treat myself,
And visit a nearby tower ..........
And climbing to the top,
Would throw myself off,
In an effort to, make clear to whoever,
What it's like when your shattered .......
Left standing in a lurch,
In a church with people saying .....
My God, that's tough, she stood him up,
No point in us remaining .......
I may as well go home,
As I did on my own,
Alone again, naturally.

To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay.
Looking forward to, and who wouldn't do,
The role I was about to play.
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around,
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces.
Leaving me to doubt, all about God and His mercy,
Oh, if He really does exist,
Why did He desert me?
And in my hour of need,
I truely am, indeed,
Alone again, naturally.

It seems to me that there are more hearts,
Broken in the world that can't be mended,
Left unattended, what do we do?
What do we do?

Now looking back over the years,
And whatever else that appears.
I remember I cried when my father died,
Never wishing to hide the tears.
At sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn't understand why the only man,
She had ever loved had been taken.
Leaving her to start, with a heart so badly broken,
Despite encouragement from me,
No words were ever spoken.
And when she passed away,
I cried and cried all day,
Alone again, naturally .....
Alone again ................................. naturally.

after reading the annotated alice, i never looked at them as kids books again, but then childrens books of that era are much less innocent then the stuff printed today

I know, dj. Just as a reminder, however, see if my Canadian friend can make this connection:



Who is he?

i'm stumped

Well, my goodness. I cannot believe that my erudite friend doesn't know Gilbert and Sullivan."I'm called little buttercup" was a song from one of the plays.

That picture was of Gilbert O Sullivan who, I'm certain, took his nom de plume from that very thing. Then when I found out that Jacques Brel had done the song before Gilbert, I was totally stunned.



Later, the song from that Frenchman, folks

Spinning Wheel
(David Clayton-Thomas)

What goes up
must come down
spinning wheel
got to go around
talkin' 'bout your troubles
it's a cryin' sin
ride a painted pony
let the spinning wheel spin

You got no money
you got no home
spinning wheel
all al lone
talkin' 'bout your troubles and you,
you never learn
Ride a painted pony
let the spinning wheel turn

Did you find
your directing sign
on the straight and narrow highway
Would you mind a reflecting sign
Just let it shine
within your mind
and show you, the colors
that are real

Someone's waiting
just for you
spinning wheel,
spinning true
Drop all your troubles by the riverside
ride a painted pony
let the spinning wheel fly

speaking of canadians ... here is one canadian , who made it big in the music industry - personally i don't care for him !

(we'll be heading out on friday, see /hear/read you all in late april)
-----------------------------------------------------------
Paul Anka Lyrics - (You're) Having My Baby Lyrics

PAUL: Havin' my baby
What a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me
Havin' my baby
What a lovely way of sayin' what you're thinkin' of me
I can see it, face is glowin'
I can see in your eyes, I'm happy you know it

BOTH: That you're havin' my baby
PAUL: You're the woman I love and I love what it's doin' to ya
BOTH: Havin' my baby
PAUL: You're a woman in love and I love what's goin' through ya

PAUL: The need inside you, I see it showin'
Whoa, the seed inside ya, baby, do you feel it growin'?
Are you happy you know it? That you're

BOTH: Havin' my baby

ODIA: I'm a woman in love and I love what it's doin' to me
BOTH: Havin' my baby
ODIA: I'm a woman in love and I love what's goin' through me

PAUL: Didn't have to keep it
Wouldn't put ya through it
You could have swept it from you life
But you wouldn't do it, no, you wouldn't do it

BOTH: And you're havin' my baby

ODIA: I'm a woman in love and I love what it's doin' to me
BOTH: Havin' my baby
ODIA: I'm a woman in love and I love what's goin' through me

PAUL: Havin' my baby (havin' my baby)
What a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me

FADE
PAUL: Havin' my baby (havin' my baby)
ODIA: I'm a woman in love and I love what's goin' through me

didn't make the leap from gilbert o, to gilbert &

had know idea about the buttercup song

still your little puzzles have encouraged me to try something, i've been thinking lately of setting up a theme revolving around a combination of three things, avatar, location and signature, all three things would have one common denominator, i think i'll start with on next month

As promised, listeners:

Seasons In the Sun
Adieu, Emile, my trusted friend,
we've known each other since we were nine or ten.
Together we climbed hills and trees,
learned of love and A B Cs,
skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.
Adieu, Emile, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky. Now
that the Spring is in the air
Pretty girls are ev'rywhere.
Think of me and I'll be there.
Chorus:
We had joy. We had sun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hills we would climb
were just seasons out of time.

Adieu, Papa, please pray for me.
I was the black sheep of the family.
You tried to teach me right from wrong.
Too much wine and too much song,
wonder how we got along.
Adieu, Papa, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky.
Now that the Spring is in the air
Little children ev'rywhere.
When you see them, I'll be there.

Chorus

Adieu, Francoise, my trusted wife,
without you I'd have had a lonely life.
You cheated lots of times but then,
I forgave you in the end
though your lover was my friend.
Adieu, Francoise, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky.
Now that spring is in the air
With your lovers ev'rywhere;
just be careful, I'll be there.

All our lives we had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hills we would climb
were just season out of time.

Adieu, Emile. Adieu, Papa. Adieu, Francoise.

All our lives, we had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hills that we climbed
were just seasons out of time.
All our lives, we had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the stars we could reach
were just starfish on the beach.

The original song by Jacques, was Le Moribund in collabration with Rod McHuen, and Gilbert O Sullivan did an updated version, and so did everyone else. <smile>

Oops, listeners, I missed a few contributions.

hamburger, I don't care for Paul "Ankle" either, and had no idea he was a Canuck. Damn, if we don't learn something every day on our little radio.

Hey, Try. I sang that song, buddy, and thought I would never get our piano player to get the feel of it. Love it, buddy.

You know, dj. You are a very creative man.



"...still your little puzzles have encouraged me to try something, i've been thinking lately of setting up a theme revolving around a combination of three things, avatar, location and signature, all three things would have one common denominator, i think i'll start with on next month...."

That is a marvelous idea. I do hope I am around to be witness to it.

Everyone was doing grim stuff during the watergate days, and here is one that I had forgotten:



The Marching Band came down along Main Street
The Soldier Blues fell in behind
I looked across and there I saw Billy
Waiting to go and join the line
And with her head upon his shoulder
His young and lovely fiancée
From where I stood I saw she was crying
And through her tears I heard her say

Billy don't be a hero
Don't be a fool with your life
Billy don't be a hero
Come back and make me your wife
And as he started to go
She said, "Billy keep your head low,"
Billy don't be a hero, come back to me

The Soldier Blues were trapped on a hillside
The battle raging all around
The Sergeant cried, "We got to hang on boys,
We got to hold this piece of ground,
I need a volunteer to ride up,
And bring us back some extra men."
And Billy's hand was up in a moment
Forgetting all the words she said
She said,

Billy don't be a hero
Don't be a fool with your life
Billy don't be a hero
Come back and make me your wife
And as he started to go
She said, "Billy keep your head low,"
Billy don't be a hero, come back to me

I heard his fiancée got a letter
That told how Billy died that day
The letter said that he was a hero
She should be proud he died that way

DeJa vu, right?
I heard she threw the letter away...

Well, listeners. I must say goodnight on a funny note. I can't remember who did this parody on Nature Boy, but it was fantastic and went something like this:

There was a boy,
A strange enchanted boy,
They say he wundered very fur,
Very fur over land and sea.

He was kinda shy, cause of his bad eye,
But a durned wise guy wuz he,

And then one day,
That feller passed my way,

And while we chewed the fat,
About this and that,
This he said to me.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is jest to love and get a little lovin right back.

Leaving you with a smile.

From Letty with love.