Linux Songs Poems
fortune: 635 - 644 of 719 from linux songs poems
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Linux Songs Poems

Fortune: 635 - 644 of 719 from Linux Songs Poems

Linux Songs Poems:  635 of 719

Was there a time when dancers with their fiddles
In children's circuses could stay their troubles?
There was a time they could cry over books,
But time has set its maggot on their track.
Under the arc of the sky they are unsafe.
What's never known is safest in this life.
Under the skysigns they who have no arms
Have cleanest hands, and, as the heartless ghost
Alone's unhurt, so the blind man sees best.
                -- Dylan Thomas, "Was There A Time"
 
Linux Songs Poems:  636 of 719

Watching girls go passing by
It ain't the latest thing
I'm just standing in a doorway
I'm just trying to make some sense
Out of these girls passing by           A smile relieves the heart that grieves
The tales they tell of men              Remember what I said
I'm not waiting on a lady               I'm not waiting on a lady
I'm just waiting on a friend            I'm just waiting on a friend
...
Don't need a whore
Don't need no booze
Don't need a virgin priest              Ooh, making love and breaking hearts
But I need someone I can cry to         It is a game for youth
I need someone to protect               But I'm not waiting on a lady
                                        I'm just waiting on a friend
                                        I'm just waiting on a friend
                -- Rolling Stones, "Waiting on a Friend"
 
Linux Songs Poems:  637 of 719

We don't need no education, we don't need no thought control.
                -- Pink Floyd
 
Linux Songs Poems:  638 of 719

We don't need no indirection            We don't need no compilation
We don't need no flow control           We don't need no load control
No data typing or declarations          No link edit for external bindings
Hey! did you leave the lists alone?     Hey! did you leave that source alone?
Chorus:                                 (Chorus)
        Oh No. It's just a pure LISP function call.

We don't need no side-effecting         We don't need no allocation
We don't need no flow control           We don't need no special-nodes
No global variables for execution       No dark bit-flipping for debugging
Hey! did you leave the args alone?      Hey! did you leave those bits alone?
(Chorus)                                (Chorus)
                -- "Another Glitch in the Call", a la Pink Floyd
 
Linux Songs Poems:  639 of 719

We gotta get out of this place,
If it's the last thing we ever do.
                -- The Animals
 
Linux Songs Poems:  640 of 719

we will invent new lullabies, new songs, new acts of love,
we will cry over things we used to laugh &
our new wisdom will bring tears to eyes of gentle
creatures from other planets who were afraid of us till then &
in the end a summer with wild winds &
new friends will be.
 
Linux Songs Poems:  641 of 719

We wish you a Hare Krishna
We wish you a Hare Krishna
We wish you a Hare Krishna
And a Sun Myung Moon!
                -- Maxwell Smart
 
Linux Songs Poems:  642 of 719

We're happy little Vegemites,
        As bright as bright can be.
We all all enjoy our Vegemite
        For breakfast, lunch and tea.
 
Linux Songs Poems:  643 of 719

We're Knights of the Round Table
We dance whene'er we're able
We do routines and chorus scenes        We're knights of the Round Table
With footwork impeccable                Our shows are formidable
We dine well here in Camelot            But many times
We eat ham and jam and Spam a lot.      We're given rhymes
                                        That are quite unsingable
In war we're tough and able,            We're opera mad in Camelot
Quite indefatigable                     We sing from the diaphragm a lot.
Between our quests
We sequin vests
And impersonate Clark Gable
It's a busy life in Camelot.
I have to push the pram a lot.
                -- Monty Python
 
Linux Songs Poems:  644 of 719

We've tried each spinning space mote
And reckoned its true worth:
Take us back again to the homes of men
On the cool, green hills of Earth.

The arching sky is calling
Spacemen back to their trade.
All hands!  Standby!  Free falling!
And the lights below us fade.
Out ride the sons of Terra,
Far drives the thundering jet,
Up leaps the race of Earthmen,
Out, far, and onward yet--

We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth;
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies
And the cool, green hills of Earth.
                -- Robert A. Heinlein, 1941
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