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sorry but i HAVE to !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n14lwdpYkAA
sinead o’connor.
(Sinead O’Connor)
Margaret Thatcher on TV
Shocked by the deaths that took place in Beijing
It seems strange that she should be offended
The same orders are given by herI’ve said this before now
You said I was childish and you’ll say it now
“Remember what I told you
If they hated me they will hate you”England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It’s the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that’s why I’m leaving
I don’t want him to be aware that there’s
Any such thing as grievingYoung mother down at Smithfield
5 am, looking for food for her kids
In her arms she holds three cold babies
And the first word that they learned was “please”These are dangerous days
To say what you feel is to dig your own grave
“Remember what I told you
If you were of the world they would love you”England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It’s the home of police who kill blacks boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that’s why I’m leaving
I don’t want him to be aware that there’s
Any such thing as grieving.a FEW glasses o Merlot later.. n Im in full serenade. !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8oyxrrEk58
haunted..
I am indeed shane,, i am indeed !
THE SONS OF GLENCOE
Ye loyal MacDonalds awaken, awaken,
Why sleep ye sae soundly in face of the foe?
The clouds pass away and the dawn it is breaking,
But when shall awaken the sons of Glencoe?Ye lay down to rest with your thoughts on the morrow,
Nor dreamt that lives visions were melting like snow,
But daylight has dawned on the silence of sorrow,
And ne’er shall awaken the sons of Glencoe.The winds howl a warning, the red lightning flashes,
They heap on the faggots a welcome to show,
But traitors are brooding on death o’er the ashes,
Now cold are the hearths of the sons of Glencoe.O dark was the omen that brought to our sheiling,
The Black-hearted Campbell wi’ treacherous smile,
We gave them our food with a brother’s own feeling,
For when we believed there was truth in Argyle.My clansmen strike boldly, let none of you count
On the mercy of cowards who wrought us such woe.
The wail of their spirits when heard on the mountain,
Must surely awaken the sons of Glencoe.O cruel as adders, ye struck us while sleeping,
But vengeance shall haunt ye wherever ye go.
Our loved ones lie murdered, no sorrow nor weeping
Can ever awaken the sons of Glencoe.(ANON)
Note – The Sons of Glen Coe survived despite the machinations of English politicians and their Scottish tools and appeared in arms for Scotland in 1715, 1719, and in the Forty-five. Today their descendants still work for a free and independent Scotland.
RENTON: It’s nae good blamin it oan the English fir colonising us. Ah don’t hate the English. They’re just wankers. We are colonised by wankers. We can’t even pick a decent, vibrant, healthy culture to be colonised by. No. We’re ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us? The lowest of the fuckin low, the scum of the earth. The most wretched, servile, miserable, pathetic trash that was ever shat intae creation. Ah don’t hate the English. They just git oan wi the shite thuv goat.
Irvine Welsh ~ Trainspotting
LIBERTY
By the cross that Andrew bore,
By the sword that William wore,
By the crown our Robert swore,
We’ll win our liberty.
Ca’ the falcon frae the glen,
Ca’ the eagle frae the ben,
ea’ the lion frae his den,
Tae win our liberty.By the man whose faith was old,
By the man they sold for gold,
By the man they’ll never hold,
We’ll win our liberty.
Ca’ the thieves of Liddesdale,
Ca’ the spears of Annandale,
Ca’ the brave of Yarrow vale,
Tae win our liberty.By the man who bends the bow,
By the man who plies the blow,
By the man who lays them low,
We’ll win our liberty.
Ca’ the banners frae the west,
Ca’ the raven frae his nest,
Ca’ the clans that dance the best
Tae win our liberty.By the field that once was green,
By the shield of silver sheen,
By the swords in battle keen,
We’ll win our liberty.
Bless the man whose faith we hold,
Bless the man in chains they sold,
Bless the man in cloth of gold,
We’ll win our liberty.[anon]
brilliant
the audio reading by James Joyce, from the Anna Livia Plurabelle section of Finnegans Wake……….
“…I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. “
Molly bloom !
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