I tell you all they do is text on their Walkman transistors and spin platters on their jukeboxes. Why in tarnation do they need those newfangled victrolas with the dag-gone puppy dog a-sitting there listning to the telegraph?

I tell you today's youngsters just are not responsible nor ready for adulthood. Why all they ever do is download that devilish syncopated ragtime boogie-woogie into their damn touch-tone telephones. You think the Good Lord meant for them to live like this? Doing the twist all night long? Flapping their wicked pearls to the "Charleston" and smoking pipes with Brycreem in their hair as they tap out racy messages in Morse Code to savage heathen peoples in the jungle-land? Why some of them have no shame at all I say. They display their brazen midriffs and tempt the young men when they go a-courtin in the kitchen parlour. No sir these young folks are in need of a good old-fashioned hiding. With a thresher's flail, yesirree-Bob...

My old granny Jehoshaphat would have taken me to the woodshed for FAR LESS than that .   Now you kids put that cat down and put your pants on RIGHT NOW or I've half a mind to call the constable.

yall gnome sain? Ah DONT.

Iz juss like trayna talk wfout opnin ma mouf cause too LAZY ... uh huh.

Gots a lotta dem 3rd person verbs all missed up FO SHO.

An he was all like in ma face and she wuz all like Y U DO DAT? I tells dat BYOTCH 

[insert a putrid stream of ghetto profanity here: ]

Yes -
so here you might want to work up a sort of "Thug in Lockdown on Deathrow for assaulting a knitting instructor" persona here - or maybe we should go with a drunken promiscuous designer-clad taxi-trash type heroine being relentlessly pursued by paparrazi...

Or maybe a Calvinist punk-rock band screaming about predestinating grace over 4 chord changes... wait just a second - the food is here ;
No - she ordered the Kung-pao chicken, that goes there but the Scorpion Bowl is mine. Yes here. Thanks. Excuse me sir - yes, the little paper parasol yes I want that too.

The Anonymous Disco Diva of Empyrean Epiphanies, the Queen of Spades and the Mother of Kushite Soul-Mamas placed the black box here after it was taken from the depths where the wreckage of the plane was found by sonar in the Indian Ocean ...

John Dowland (1563-1626)

From:The First Book of Songs or Ayres (1597)

Can she excuse my wrongs?


Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak?
Shall I call her good when she proves unkind?
Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke?
Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find?
No, no; where shadows do for bodies stand,
That may'st be abus'd if thy sight be dim.

Cold love is like to words written on sand,
Or to bubbles which on the water swim.
Wilt thou be thus abused still,
Seeing that she will right thee never?
If thou canst not o'ercome her will,
Thy love will be thus fruitless ever.

Was I so base, that I might not aspire
Unto those high joys which she holds from me?
As they are high, so high is my desire,
If she this deny, what can granted be?
If she will yield to that which reason is,
It is reason's will that love should be just.

Dear, make me happy still by granting this,
Or cut off delays if that I die must.
Better a thousand times to die
Than for to love thus still tormented:
Dear, but remember it was I
Who for thy sake did die contented.

Emma Kirkby soprano ,  Anthony Rooley lute

Please put your phone away. Now. Come on. Put it down - there's a good girl.

Now take one step. No - no you can't have it back just yet.
Follow me - forget about the phone for a moment.

Over here - to the window. See over there? That is called "The Horizon".

Now you try saying it.  Good. Good job. You are intelligent. You are such a big girl!
I'm proud of you.

See the dawn coming over the distant hills? That is called "Eternal Truth".
Try saying it. Stop scowling now - you look so silly and ugly when you do that...

See all of this? It was created by Almighty God. God loves you. Yes, He does...

...with the Lord of this current universe, you are DOOMED and DAMNED.

Just a little heads up for you as you read this at Song Meanings.

Look into it.  It is not too late for you.

...crack me up. There seem to be a lot of them here at this site.

Some ticked-off feminette was airing her damaged soul in public (in the form of mediocre militant poetry).

When I commented on it she became combative.

Well DUH. If you put your stuff up in public you ought to expect a reaction to it.  You are, after all, inviting people to judge you.

We are living in the new cybernetic interactive dark ages... meanwhile try to say what you say with a bit of style. Please.

BWAHHHHHH HAhahahahah gots ta rite in dis journal yall Hey alla yuz haytas out ther Im like its all good $*^%!!!!  so i waz texting my grlfrn >~:) wen this amazin thot come to me most peepelz is like totally RETARDED dam stoopid idiats cant even express nuthin they so stupid so i waz like wut the F---  throw down my phone grfrn wudnt even text me back the BYATCHHHHHHHH reelize Im  retarded too so wut then I decided to simply begin thinking a bit before spewing out a lot of semi-coherent nonsense. I actually began to use punctuation. I then proceeded to re-evaluate my entire linguistic approach. Eschewing the stigma of ghetto syntax I quickly wrote a doctoral dissertation on language acquisition in sub-adult male baboons and was soon thereafter knighted by her Majesty the Queen.  And so I returned to my job as a pallet removal inspector none the richer but quite content in my new level of both written and spoken verbal prowess.

Bright child of the Tarot - a new age awaits you

but not through the mazes you're wandering in.

Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions

are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin.

The dog at the precipice barks out a warning:

the FOOL, The MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong

Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you -

let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong.

JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is horny,

 has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed.

The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness

as LOVERS  in bondage to DEATH are consumed..

Egypt can't help you - the CHARIOT's  stalled

While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks.

The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches

an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks...

Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way

And the staff of correction has battered you hard

I am sure you will make it, if only you pray

to the sovereign elector who holds every card

for a ray of redemption to light up your way.

Let the major arcana all bow and acknowledge

as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky

that omniscient and just is the blessed Redeemer

who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer

like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry

that the WORLD in it's fulness can't harbor His love -

nor the heavens within nor without nor above...

May the HIEROPHANT's dynasty wither away

and the EMPEROR"S scepter be broken to shards

as the breath of God's Spirit comes into our world

to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.