Linux Songs Poems

Why are you watching
The washing machine?
I love entertainment
So long as it's clean.

Professor Doberman:
        While the preceding poem is unarguably a change from the guarded
pessimism of "The Hound of Heaven," it cannot be regarded as an unqualified
improvement.  Obscurity is of value only when it tends to clarify the poetic
experience.  As much as one is compelled to admire the poem's technique, one
must question whether its byplay of complex literary allusions does not in
fact distract from the unity of the whole.  In the final analysis, one
receives the distinct impression that the poem's length could safely have
been reduced by a factor of eight or ten without sacrificing any of its
meaning.  It is to be hoped that further publication of this poem can be
suspended pending a thorough investigation of its potential subversive
implications.

With/Without - and who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about?
                -- Pink Floyd

Woke up this mornin' an' I had myself a beer,
Yeah, Ah woke up this mornin' an' I had myself a beer
The future's uncertain and the end is always near.
                -- Jim Morrison, "Roadhouse Blues"

Woke up this morning, don't believe what I saw.
Hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore.
Seems I'm not alone in being alone.
Hundred billion castaways looking for a call.
                -- The Police, "Message in a Bottle"

Yea from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records.
                -- Hamlet

Yes me, I got a bottle in front of me.
And Jimmy has a frontal lobotomy.
Just different ways to kill the pain the same.
But I'd rather have a bottle in front of me,
Than to have to have a frontal lobotomy.
I might be drunk but at least I'm not insane.
                -- Randy Ansley M.D. (Dr. Rock)

Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today --
I think he's from the CIA.

"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
        "All your papers these days look the same;
Those William's would be better unread --
        Do these facts never fill you with shame?"

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
        "I wrote wonderful papers galore;
But the great reputation I found that I'd won,
        Made it pointless to think any more."

"You are old, father William," the young man said,
        "And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
        Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
        "I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
        Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
        And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
        Pray what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
        "I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box --
        Allow me to sell you a couple?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and I'm told by my peers
        That your lectures bore people to death.
Yet you talk at one hundred conventions per year --
        Don't you think that you should save your breath?"

"I have answered three questions and that is enough,"
        Said his father, "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
        Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"