MONEY MONEY

Ever had one of those persistent earworms where you didn’t know what the song was titled or who made it because driving and Pandora, and dangit, the only thing you can remember is “LET’S MAKE MONEY!!” (Guitar riff)

Yeah, it wasn’t this one.
*high pitched screeching*
I don’t think this one is about money at all….
It was definitely something along these lines, but with, you know, more of a capitalist message. I think.

Anyhow, long story short I had Pandora going all morning in the hopes that it would eventually drift back over the intertubes. And it finally did!

I enjoyed this song a lot more without seeing the album cover

Poetry Corner – He Bids His Beloved be at Peace

I HEAR the Shadowy Horses, their long manes a-shake,	 
Their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white;	 
The North unfolds above them clinging, creeping night,	 
The East her hidden joy before the morning break,	 
The West weeps in pale dew and sighs passing away,
The South is pouring down roses of crimson fire:	 
O vanity of Sleep, Hope, Dream, endless Desire,	 
The Horses of Disaster plunge in the heavy clay:	 
Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat	 
Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast,
Drowning love’s lonely hour in deep twilight of rest,	 
And hiding their tossing manes and their tumultuous feet.


- William Butler Yeats

Poetry Corner – Shai Dorsai

Stone are my walls, and my roof is of timber,
 But the hands of my builder are stronger by far.
 The roof may be burned and my stones may be scattered,
 But never her light be defeated in war.

 	 I am the heart and the core of the Morgans.
 Many the battle, around me, was fought.
 Many the year has gone by since my building.
 Each of my stones, by a life, has been bought.

 	 Long was the work and hard was the building
 From under the hill and the forest so wide.
 My stone, that is piled in the place of her choosing,
 Is mortared with bone of the men who have died.

	 Blood paid the price of this hill that I rest on
 And blood pays the price of these lands that I see.
 The price; it is fair for the rights that it purchased.
 Within my gray walls, ye shall ever stand free.

 	 I am the heart and the core of the Morgans.
 Amanda; she built me and I shall remain
 A home for the heart of the men that may leave me;
 A beacon for bearing their way home again.

 	 Stone are my walls and my roof is of timber,
 But the hands of my builder are stronger by far.
 The roof may be burned and my stones may be scattered,
 But never her light be defeated in war.


- Gordon R. Dickson, The Spirit of Dorsai