Funny you say that my son Phil Jr is known as peach wit ag he was such a great looking kid they would call him peach and to this day he is known as such as are all my children fruits and blessed with such good lucks. Ag I say to you welcome to Beetle land and your MAN.
Scousers are the salt of the earth first place the Irish landed when they went to the U.K hence the wit from that area nearest city to Dublin within Ireland. With regard to doubting Thomas I have known a few from that area and they can be doubtful. Walk on with hope in your heart and be happy.
Ship he is not a young man and could end up eating jelly beans while she deals with eastern europe perish the thought do you feel the worst if elected one term is enough.
In the 20-30 age groups,it is the relentless rating of themselves - versus both male peers and ,in particular female peers who seem to have developed an independence which many males find diff to cope with. Its not that they are critical of the latter . It is rather their own self rating that is the problem. Another major issue seems to be material . How can I pay for the lifestyle that I feel is expected by male and female peers? Its as if their rating of themselves has become intimately intermingled with financial and material success. Deep down hey real success . Deep down they know that this is really self esteem issue but struggle to express this. They have lost the ability to love and apppreciate themselves ,for who.they are not what they are worth. Have we as a society a responsibility ,in relation to this we do not promote the concept .of disposability.in relation to people as much material possessions? How do we reach them?
Sailing down behind the sun, Waiting for my prince to come. Praying for the healing rain To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run. How did I get here? What have I done? When will all my hopes arise? How will I know him? When I look in my father's eyes. My father's eyes. When I look in my father's eyes. My father's eyes.
Then the light begins to shine And I hear those ancient lullabies. And as I watch this seedling grow, Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say? How do I teach him? What do we play? Bit by bit, I've realized That's when I need them, That's when I need my father's eyes. My father's eyes. That's when I need my father's eyes. My father's eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears Through the distant clouds of tears. I'm like a bridge that was washed away; My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die. How could I lose him? What did I try? Bit by bit, I've realized That he was here with me; I looked into my father's eyes. My father's eyes. I looked into my father's eyes. My father's eyes.
My father's eyes. My father's eyes. I looked into my father's eyes. My father's eyes.
In a little while from now If I’m not feeling any less sour I promise myself to treat myself And visit a nearby tower And climbing to the top will throw myself off In an effort to make it clear to who Ever what it’s like when you’re shattered Left standing in the lurch at a church Where people saying: "My God, that’s tough She's stood him up" No point in us remaining We may as well go home As I did on my own Alone again, naturally
To think that only yesterday I was cheerful, bright and gay Looking forward to well wouldn’t do The role I was about to play But as if to knock me down Reality came around And without so much, as a mere touch Cut me into little pieces Leaving me to doubt Talk about God and His mercy Or if He really does exist Why did He desert me in my hour of need I truly am indeed Alone again, naturally
It seems to me that there are more hearts broken in the world that can’t be mended Left unattended What do we do? What do we do?
Alone again, naturally Now looking back over the years And whatever else that appears I remember I cried when my father died Never wishing to hide the tears And at sixty-five years old My mother, God rest her soul, Couldn’t understand why the only man She had ever loved had been taken Leaving her to start with a heart so badly broken Despite encouragement from me No words were ever spoken And when she passed away I cried and cried all day Alone again, naturally Alone again, naturally.
I think you have already jumped the broom so to speak + The guy or the girl get plastered in a different way and usual scenario coy the next day or Hell ?what did I do last night.
On Raglan Road of an Autumn day I saw her first and knew, That her dark hair would weave a snare That I might someday rue. I saw the danger and I passed Along the enchanted way. And I said,"Let grief be a fallen leaf At the dawning of the day."
On Grafton Street in November, we Tripped lightly along the ledge Of a deep ravine where can be seen The worth of passion play. The Queen of Hearts still making tarts And I not making hay; Oh, I loved too much and by such and such Is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind, I gave her the secret signs, That's known to the artists who have known The true gods of sound and stone. And her words and tint without stint I gave her poems to say With her own name there and her own dark hair Like clouds over fields of May.
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now, And away from me so hurriedly My reason must allow. That I had loved, not as I should A creature made of clay, When the angel woos the clay, he'll lose His wings at the dawn of day.
inverphil Forum Posts (761)
RE: Whats your favorite quote?
An author's first duty is to let down his country.Brendan Behan.