sailing to Byzantium

THAT is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees – Those dying generations – at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing intellect. [...]

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If I were a boy!

    If I were a boy even just for a day http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k45LCa72Cw I’d roll out of bed in the morning And throw on what I wanted And go drink beer with the guys And chase after girls I’d kick it with who I wanted And I’d never get confronted for it ‘Cause they stick [...]

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