The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many path and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
J.R.R. Tolkien
I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for a while the feeling may remain...
But let my love no longer trouble you,
I do not wish to cause you any pain.
I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew,
The jealousy, the shyness - though in vain -
Made up a love so tender and so true
As may God grant you to be loved again.
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
The long and winding road that leads to your door,
Will never disappear, I've seen that road before
It always leads me here, lead me to your door.
The wild and windy night that the rain washed away,
Has left a pool of tears crying for the day.
Why leave me standing here, let me know the way.
Many times I've been alone and many times I've cried,
Anyway you’ll never know the many ways I’ve tried, but still they lead me back to the long, winding road,
You left me standing here a long, long time ago.
Don't leave me waiting here, lead me to your door.
But still they lead me back to the long, winding road
You left me standing here, a long, long time ago
Don’t keep me waiting here, lead me to your door
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..
Performers: The Beatles
Youtube link
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eye of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still !
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Lord Byron
I gotcha with my winning smile,
I'm a living lesson in flare and style!
You just can't help but stare at my savoir-faire!
I'm Nouveau, Deco, Roman-Greco,
Rococo, Barroco,Be-bop and hip-hop, uh... flip-flop -
Somebody stop me!
Pretty viridian faces like mine,
don't come a dime a dozen - I stand out in a crowd!
Babe, when they made me, yeah, they broke the mold!...
Wholesome and kind, staid and refined,
totally out of my mind!
Arch-villains and never-do-wells
had better learn to decorate prison cells;
Green goes with anything if they ask, see!
Well there's one last thing I gotta sing about -
Open up wide and really shout!
Ohhhhhhhhh look out!
This is The Mask!
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