Linux Songs Poems
fortune: 101 - 110 of 719 from linux songs poems
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Linux Songs Poems

Fortune: 101 - 110 of 719 from Linux Songs Poems

Linux Songs Poems:  101 of 719

Chivalry, Schmivalry!
        Roger the thief has a
        method he uses for
        sneaky attacks:
Folks who are reading are
        Characteristically
        Always Forgetting to
        Guard their own bac ...
 
Linux Songs Poems:  102 of 719

Christmas time is here, by Golly;       Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens;
Disapproval would be folly;             Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens;
Deck the halls with hunks of holly;     Even though the prospect sickens,
Fill the cup and don't say when...      Brother, here we go again.

On Christmas day, you can't get sore;   Relations sparing no expense'll,
Your fellow man you must adore;         Send some useless old utensil,
There's time to rob him all the more,   Or a matching pen and pencil,
The other three hundred and sixty-four! Just the thing I need... how nice.

It doesn't matter how sincere           Hark The Herald-Tribune sings,
It is, nor how heartfelt the spirit;    Advertising wondrous things.
Sentiment will not endear it;           God Rest Ye Merry Merchants,
What's important is... the price.       May you make the Yuletide pay.
                                        Angels We Have Heard On High,
Let the raucous sleighbells jingle;     Tell us to go out and buy.
Hail our dear old friend, Kris Kringle, Sooooo...
Driving his reindeer across the sky,
Don't stand underneath when they fly by!
                -- Tom Lehrer
 
Linux Songs Poems:  103 of 719

Cold be hand and heart and bone,
and cold be sleep under stone;
never more to wake on stony bed,
never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.

In the black wind the stars shall die,
and still on gold here let them lie,
till the dark lord lifts his hand
over dead sea and withered land.
                -- J. R. R. Tolkien
 
Linux Songs Poems:  104 of 719

Come fill the cup and in the fire of spring
Your winter garment of repentence fling.
The bird of time has but a little way
To flutter -- and the bird is on the wing.
                -- Omar Khayyam
 
Linux Songs Poems:  105 of 719

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands and crystal brooks
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There's nothing that I wouldn't do
If you would be my POSSLQ.

You live with me, and I with you,
And you will be my POSSLQ.
I'll be your friend and so much more;
That's what a POSSLQ is for.

And everything we will confess;
Yes, even to the IRS.
Some day on what we both may earn,
Perhaps we'll file a joint return.
You'll share my pad, my taxes, joint;
You'll share my life - up to a point!
And that you'll be so glad to do,
Because you'll be my POSSLQ.
 
Linux Songs Poems:  106 of 719

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
                -- John Donne
 
Linux Songs Poems:  107 of 719

Come on, Virginia, don't make me wait!
Catholic girls start much too late,
Ah, but sooner or later, it comes down to fate,
I might as well be the one.
Well, they showed you a statue, told you to pray,
Built you a temple and locked you away,
Ah, but they never told you the price that you paid,
The things that you might have done.
So come on, Virginia, show me a sign,
Send up a signal, I'll throw you a line,
That stained glass curtain that you're hiding behind,
Never lets in the sun.
Darling, only the good die young!
                -- Billy Joel, "Only The Good Die Young"
 
Linux Songs Poems:  108 of 719

Come, every frustum longs to be a cone,
And every vector dreams of matrices.
Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze:
It whispers of a more ergodic zone.
                -- Stanislaw Lem, "Cyberiad"
 
Linux Songs Poems:  109 of 719

Come, landlord, fill the flowing bowl until it does run over,
Tonight we will all merry be -- tomorrow we'll get sober.
                -- John Fletcher, "The Bloody Brother", II, 2
 
Linux Songs Poems:  110 of 719

Come, let us hasten to a higher plane,
Where dyads tread the fairy fields of Venn,
Their indices bedecked from one to n,
Commingled in an endless Markov chain!
                -- Stanislaw Lem, "Cyberiad"
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