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Pride and Joy

Well you've heard about love givin' sight to the blind
My baby's lovin' cause the sun to shine
She's my sweet little thing, she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby, I'm her little lover boy
 
Yeah I love my baby, my heart and soul
Love like ours won't never grow old
She's my sweet little thing, she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby, I'm her little lover boy
 
Yeah I love my lady, she's long and lean
You mess with her, you'll see a man gettin' mean
She's my sweet little thing, she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby, I'm her little lover boy
 
Well I love my baby like the finest wine
Stick with her until the end of time
She's my sweet little thing, she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby, I'm her little lover boy
 
Yeah I love my baby, my heart and soul
Love like ours will never grow old
She's my sweet little thing, she's my pride and joy
She's my sweet little baby, I'm her little lover boy
 

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Do You Wanna Build A Snowman (Reprise) [Version 2]

Yes, I wanna build a snowman
I’m sorry it took so long
I didn’t know I needed you
I really do
And now you’re gone…
 
Please just ask me once more
Just one more time
I promise I’ll open the door...
 
Yes, I wanna build a snowman...
 

Online Girl

Eyes behind the glass of laptop screen
I know your name and just it seems i know your world
Love me love will never be the tale
I send my heart to you e-mail my lonely girl
 
Nights make me crazy oh this way
it's such amazing love today
I will send my heart away...
 
You're my only lonely
you're my online girl
I will never hold you
never touch your soul
 
Everytime i see you
in my fantasy
you're the only lonely
but you're not for me
 
I don't wanna lose you
in Web reality
oh my heart will choose you
baby stay with me
 
Do you hear my heartbeat?
Do you hear my call?
you're my only lonely
you're my online girl
 
Voice i hear your voice inside my skype
My loving heart it feels the vibe my lonely girl
Smile your smile it touches me so deep
I send my love into the QIP your silent world
 
Days make me crazy oh so much
When i wait to get in touch
You're my girl my only crush...
 

Amen

I'm out on a new road in search for a land with no name,
And I never look back ‘cause I'm walking through sunshine and rain.
And I'm a man who has lived in the tombs and who's broken the chain.
 
Amen!
Amen!
 
I was blind but now I see.
What if God is not for me?!
And I know it's time to go.
I've been used and I've been played,
I’d been spied on and betrayed.
And I know it's time to go.
 
Watch out!
And I feel the pain,
Watch out!
I’m alive again,
The past is gone for good,
It’s time to say:
 
Amen!
Amen!
 
Amen!
Amen!
 
At last I believe I’ll be found
In a silence of my nights.
I can hear a distant voice:
Someone out there is calling my name!
 
Watch out!
I’m not afraid,
Watch out!
I’m beyond the dread.
It's time to turn my page and love again,
Watch out!
I can feel the pain,
Watch out!
And cry again.
I'm leaving all my shadows behind.
 
Amen!
Amen!
 
Amen!
Amen!
 
Tentanda via ad incognita
 

The Cry Of The Children

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers---
And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows;
The young birds are chirping in the nest;
The young fawns are playing with the shadows;
The young flowers are blowing toward the west---
But the young, young children, O my brothers,
They are weeping bitterly!---
They are weeping in the playtime of the others
In the country of the free.
 
Do you question the young children in the sorrow,
Why their tears are falling so?---
The old man may weep for his to-morrow
Which is lost in Long Ago---
The old tree is leafless in the forest---
The old year is ending in the frost---
The old wound, if stricken, is the sorest---
The old hope is hardest to be lost:
But the young, young children, O my brothers,
Do you ask them why they stand
Weeping sore before the bosoms of their mothers,
In our happy Fatherland?
 
They look up with their pale and sunken faces,
And their looks are sad to see,
For the man's grief abhorrent, draws and presses
Down the cheeks of infancy---
'Your old earth,' they say, 'is very dreary;'
'Our young feet,' they say, 'are very weak!
Few paces have we taken, yet are wearyÑ
Our grave-rest is very far to seek.
Ask the old why they weep, and not the children,
For the outside earth is cold,---
And we young ones stand without, in our bewildering,
And the graves are for the old.
 
'True,' say the young children, 'it may happen
That we die before our time.
Little Alice died last year---the grave is shapen
Like a snowball, in the rime.
We looked into the pit prepared to take her---
Was no room for any work in the close clay:
From the sleep wherein she lieth none will wake her
Crying, 'Get up, little Alice! it is day.'
If you listen by that grave, in sun and shower,
With your ear down, little Alice never cries!---
Could we see her face, be sure we should not know her,
For the smile has time for growing in her eyes---
And merry go her moments, lulled and stilled in
The shroud, by the kirk-chime!
It is good when it happens,' say the children,
'That we die before our time.'
 
Alas, alas, the children! they are seeking
Death in life, as best to have!
They are binding up their hearts away from breaking,
With a cerement from the grave.
Go out, children, from the mine and from the city---
Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do---
Pluck your handfuls of the meadow-cowslips pretty---
Laugh aloud, to feel your fingers let them through!
But they answer, 'Are your cowslips of the meadows
Like our weeds anear the mine?
Leave us quiet in the dark of the coal-shadows,
From your pleasures fair and fine!
 
'For oh,' say the children, 'we are weary,
And we cannot run or leap---
If we cared for any meadows, it were merely
To drop down in them and sleep.
Our knees tremble sorely in the stooping---
We fall upon our faces, trying to go;
And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping,
The reddest flower would look as pale as snow.
For, all day, we drag our burden tiring,
Through the coal-dark, underground---
Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron
In the factories, round and round.
 
'For, all day, the wheels are droning, turning,---
Their wind comes in our faces,---
Till our hearts turn,---our head, with pulses burning,
And the walls turn in their places---
Turns the sky in the high window blank and reeling---
Turns the long light that droppeth down the wall---
Turn the black flies that crawl along the ceiling---
All are turning, all the day, and we with all.---
And, all day, the iron wheels are droning;
And sometimes we could pray,
'O ye wheels,' (breaking out in a mad moaning)
'Stop! be silent for to-day!' '
 
Ay! be silent! Let them hear each other breathing
For a moment, mouth to mouth---
Let them touch each other's hands, in a fresh wreathing
Of their tender human youth!
Let them feel that this cold metallic motion
Is not all the life God fashions or reveals---
Let them prove their inward souls against the notion
That they live in you, os under you, O wheels!---
Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward,
Grinding life down from its mark;
And the children's souls, which God is calling sunward,
Spin on blindly in the dark.
 
Now, tell the poor young children, O my brothers,
To look up to Him and pray---
So the blessed One, who blesseth all the others,
Will bless them another day.
They answer, 'Who is God that He should hear us,
White the rushing of the iron wheels is stirred?
When we sob aloud, the human creatures near us
Pass by, hearing not, or answer not a word!
And we hear not (for the wheels in their resounding)
Strangers speaking at the door:
Is it likely God, with angels singing round Him,
Hears our weeping any more?
 
'Two words, indeed, of praying we remember,
And at midnight's hour of harm,---
'Our Father,' looking upward in the chamber,
We say softly for a charm.
We know no other words except 'Our Father,'
And we think that, in some pause of angels' song,
God may pluck them with the silence sweet to gather,
And hold both within His right hand which is strong.
'Our Father!' If He heard us, He would surely
(For they call Him good and mild)
Answer, smiling down the steep world very purely,
'Come and rest with me, my child.'
 
'But no!' say the children, weeping faster,
'He is speechless as a stone;
And they tell us, of His image is the master
Who commands us to work on.
Go to!' say the children,---'Up in Heaven,
Dark, wheel-like, turning clouds are all we find.
Do not mock us; grief has made us unbelieving---
We look up for God, but tears have made us blind.'
Do you hear the children weeping and disproving,
O my brothers, what ye preach?
For God's possible is taught by His world's loving---
And the children doubt of each.
 
And well may the children weep before you;
They are weary ere they run;
They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory
Which is brighter than the sun:
They know the grief of man, but not the wisdom;
They sink in man's despair, without its calm---
Are slaves, without the liberty in Christdom,---
Are martyrs, by the pang without the palm,---
Are worn, as if with age, yet unretrievingly
No dear remembrance keep,---
Are orphans of the earthly love and heavenly:
Let them weep! let them weep!
 
They look up, with their pale and sunken faces,
And their look is dread to see,
For they mind you of their angels in their places,
With eyes meant for Deity;---
'How long,' they say, 'how long, O cruel nation,
Will you stand, to move the world, on a child's heart,
Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation,
And tread onward to your throne amid the mart?
Our blood splashes upward, O our tyrants,
And your purple shows yo}r path;
But the child's sob curseth deeper in the silence
Than the strong man in his wrath!'