There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.

Love sees with the heart and not the mind;
therefore, wing'd cupid is painted blind.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything,
That's how the light gets in.

Better to die, and sleep
The never-waking sleep, than linger on
And dare to live when the soul's life is gone.

Am I going down
To where there's no return
How long can I go on
Listening to my fears
I'm so tired of living
On borrowed time

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking.
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older.
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Goodbye Papa, it's hard to die
When all the bird's are singing in the sky
Now that the spring is in the air
Little kids are everywhere
Think of me and I'll be there
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song, like the seasons, have all gone

I met a girl who sang the blues
and I asked her for some happy news,
but she just smiled and turned away.

Where have all the flowers gone?
The girls have picked them every one.
Oh, when will they ever learn?

Rest not! Life is sweeping by;
go and dare before you die.
Something mighty and sublime,
leave behind to conquer time.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain,
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

A little nonsense now and then
Is relished by the wisest men.

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd, I loved alone.
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by -
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Met her on a mountain
There I took her life
Met her on a mountain
Stabbed her with my knife

Unseen,
they suffer
Unheard,
they cry
In agony,
they linger
In loneliness,
they die

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shields our eyes-