buhi
Crazy Mango Extraordinaire
Posts: 4,846
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Post by buhi on Apr 1, 2016 21:52:10 GMT 7
The Sick Rose
BY WILLIAM BLAKE
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
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bowie
Crazy Mango Extraordinaire
Posts: 2,592
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Post by bowie on Apr 1, 2016 22:09:07 GMT 7
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Post by rgs2001uk on Apr 1, 2016 23:39:08 GMT 7
Didnt Mr Zimmerman rip him off along with Robbie Burns?
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buhi
Crazy Mango Extraordinaire
Posts: 4,846
Likes: 1,431
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Post by buhi on Apr 2, 2016 9:35:56 GMT 7
"Song For Bob Dylan"
Oh, hear this Robert Zimmerman I wrote a song for you About a strange young man called Dylan With a voice like sand and glue His words of truthful vengeance They could pin us to the floor Brought a few more people on And put the fear in a whole lot more
Ah, Here she comes Here she comes Here she comes again The same old painted lady From the brow of a superbrain She'll scratch this world to pieces As she comes on like a friend But a couple of songs From your old scrapbook Could send her home again
You gave your heart to every bedsit room At least a picture on my wall And you sat behind a million pair of eyes And told them how they saw Then we lost your train of thought The paintings are all your own While troubles are rising We'd rather be scared Together than alone
Ah, Here she comes...[etc.]
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onionluke
Crazy Mango Extraordinaire
I escaped from the dark and dingy orlop only to be captured by cattle rustlers and now
Posts: 1,182
Likes: 704
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Post by onionluke on Apr 2, 2016 10:06:13 GMT 7
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buhi
Crazy Mango Extraordinaire
Posts: 4,846
Likes: 1,431
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Post by buhi on Apr 3, 2016 19:16:35 GMT 7
London BY WILLIAM BLAKE I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow. And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man, In every Infants cry of fear, In every voice: in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry Every blackning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldiers sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls
But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlots curse Blasts the new-born Infants tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
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