SR Urie

"Be not afeared. The isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling intrumments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices
That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that, when I wak'd,
I cried to dream again."
William Shakespeare, Caliban from 'the Tempest'

Another Day

Well the world is made of soil and wood,
Fishing boats that nail the royal,
She can’t last too long in the shade,
Every day must be remade.
Some days you fall, some days you cry,
But in the end we all must die,
Our rotting flesh and broken bones
Seeds the ground that we call home,
Seeds the ground that we call home.

This old crown grows from a foreign tree,
And this song goes on after me,
So lift your hearts and dry your eyes,
It’s another day to live and die,
Another day to live and die.

Now I’ve run naked in the wire,
Seen the beauty of a newborn child,
And like the hours of most of old,
I’ve tried to spin my straw to gold.
There’s times of giving, there’s times of greed,
Of troubled hope that’s called to me,
Between the freedom and despair,
I know the truth is lying there,
I’ve seen the truth – it’s lying there.

This old crown grows from a foreign tree,
And this song goes on after me,
So lift your hearts and dry your eyes,
It’s another day to live and die,
Another day to live and die.

So go on now, don’t you worry ‘bout me,
You’ve miles to go and a world to see,
My life’s been long and full and good,
I’ve run this race the best I could.
It’s a short time here; I’m on the clock,
Six young rings to both our hearts,
Take my guitar when I’m gone,
Write yellow rhymes and pass it on,
Take a hit and pass it on.

This old crown grows from a foreign tree,
And this song goes on after me,
So lift your hearts and dry your eyes,
It’s another day to live and die,
Another day to live and die.
Tim O’Brian


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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wb_n4T4zG0Q&feature=youtu.be




A Free One
by W.H. Auden

Watch any day his nonchalant pauses, see
His dextrous handling of a wrap as he
Steps after into cars, the begger's envy.

'There is a free one,' many say, but err,
He is not that returning conqueror,
Nor ever the poles' circumnavigator.

But poised between shocking falls on razor-edge
Has taught himself this balancing subterfuge
Of an accosting profile, an erect carriage.

The song, the varied action of the blood,
Would drown the warning from the iron wood,
Would conceal the inertia of the buried:

Travelling by daylight on from house to house
The longest way to an intrinsic peace,
With love's fidelity and with love's weakness.



{I JUST PUBLISHED SECOND NOVEL. CHECK IT OUT! http://www.authorhouse.com/Bookstore/ItemDetail.aspx?bookid=74480}







To Roses in the Bosom of Castara
(William Habington - 1654)

Ye blushing virgins happy are
In the chaste nunnery of her breasts,
For he’d profane so chaste a fair,
Whoe’er should call them Cupid’s nests.

Transplanted thus how bright you grow,
How rich a perfume do ye yield.
In some close garden, cowslips so
Are sweeter than in th’ open field.

In those white cloisters live secure
From the rude blasts of wanton breath,
Each hour more innocent and pure,
Till you shall wither into death.

Then that which living gave you room
Your glorious sepulcher shall be;
There wants no marble for a tomb,
Whose breast hath been marble in me.




Social Disease
Elton John
My bulldog is barking in the backyard
Enough to raise a dead man from his grave
And I can't concentrate on what I'm doing
Disturbance going to crucify my days

And the days they get longer and longer
And the nightime is a time of little use
For I just get ugly and older
I get juiced on Mateus and just hang loose

And I get bombed for breakfast in the morning
I get bombed for dinnertime and tea
I dress in rags, smell a lot , and have a real good time
I'm a genuine example
of a social disease

My landlady lives in a caravan
Well that is when she isn't in my arms
And it seems I pay the rent in human kindness
But my liquor also helps to grease her palm

And the ladies are all getting wr inkles
And they're falling apart at the seams
Well I just get high on tequila
And see visions of vineyards in my dreams

And I get bombed for breakfast in the morni ng
I get bombed for dinnertime and tea
I dress in rags, smell a lot , and have a heart of gold
I'm a genuine example
of a social disease



I'M VERY TIRED OF THE SOUND OF MY OWN VOICE