Thursday, March 31, 2011

FORGET YOU

By Cee Lo Green

I see you driving ’round town
With the girl i love and i’m like,
Forget you!
Oo, oo, ooo
I guess the change in my pocket
Wasn’t enough i’m like,
Forget you!
And forget her too!
I said, if i was richer, i’d still be with ya
Ha, now ain’t that some sh**? (ain’t that some sh**?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best with a…
Forget you!
Oo, oo, ooo
Yeah i’m sorry, i can’t afford a ferrari,
But that don’t mean i can’t get you there.
I guess he’s an xbox and i’m more atari,
But the way you play your game ain’t fair.
I pity the fool that falls in love with you
(oh sh** she’s a gold digger)
Well
(just thought you should know nigga)
Ooooooh
I’ve got some news for you
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend
Now i know, that i had to borrow,
Beg and steal and lie and cheat.
Trying to keep ya, trying to please ya.
‘Cause being in love with you a** ain’t cheap.
I pity the fool that falls in love with you
(oh sh** she’s a gold digger)
Well
(just thought you should know nigga)
Ooooooh
I’ve got some news for you
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend
Now baby, baby, baby, why d’you wanna wanna hurt me so bad?
(so bad, so bad, so bad)
I tried to tell my mamma but she told me
“this is one for your dad”
(your dad, your dad, your dad)
Uh! Whhhy? Uh! Whhhy? Uh!
Whhhy lady? Oh! I love you oh!
I still love you. Oooh!

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Ode to a Nightingale

By John Keats

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
    My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
    One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
    But being too happy in thine happiness, -
        That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
                In some melodious plot
    Of beechen green and shadows numberless,
        Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
        With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
                And purple-stained mouth;
    That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
        And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
    What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
    Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
    Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
        Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
                And leaden-eyed despairs,
    Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
        Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
    Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
    Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
    And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
        Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
                But here there is no light,
    Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
        Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
    Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
    Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
    White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
        Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
                And mid-May's eldest child,
    The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
        The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
    I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
    To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
    To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
        While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
                In such an ecstasy!
    Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -
        To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
    No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
    In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
    Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
        She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
                The same that oft-times hath
    Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
        Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
    To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
    As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
    Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
        Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
                In the next valley-glades:
    Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
        Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art -
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors -
No - yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever - or else swoon to death

Shakespeare's Sonnet 55

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out tto the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.

A promised to Chocolate Cake

By Darksideofme

I promised Chocolate Cake that I would eat it everyday
For I love Chocolate Cake
with every inch of my being
its taste is so sweet
and it makes me feel right
I love Chocolate Cake I would eat it everyday
For it is my favorite food

One day I walked by Apple Pie
The Apple pie was so warm and smelled so good
Just looking at it gave me cravings that Chocolate Cake could not
The apple pie gave me a warmth and yet
it was bitter in the best way

Whats more is the apple pie is so much easier to eat
I had promised Chocolate Cake I would eat it everyday
I needed apple pie though
I craved apple pie and it craved me
Chocolate Cake just sits there looking pretty

Chocolate Cake is still my favorite food
but it is an empty food
It doesn't make you feel
but it must remain my favorite food
because even though I crave Apple pie more
I know that it could never become my favorite food

Sure I would eat Apple Pie everyday
It would even make me feel warm and full the way I want
but I could not eat it everyday
and favor it like I do with Chocolate Cake

I wish I could eat both Chocolate Cake
and Apple Pie
but the two do not mix
each cancels out the taste
of the other
and many people stare at he who would have two plates
of dessert

but after all
I promised Chocolate Cake that I would eat it everyday
For I love Chocolate Cake
with every inch of my being
I will have to just continue to crave Apple Pie
and only have a taste every once in a while
As long as Chocolate Cake doesn't know