anyaterry

And I’ll make your bones shake, the sweat we take off, hearts, still battered and worn. Be my shelter and I will be your storm. And we’ll show the fire, yeah we’ll show the fire how to burn.
Damn be this wind is still movin’ on in, to the bones and the bed of my soul

Kristian Matsson - This Wind

Come in from the shadows of these boot black marching clouds, ‘cause trouble falls like rain, and lately it’s been pouring down

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea green boat,They took some honey, and plenty of money,Wrapped up in a five pound note.The Owl looked up to the stars above,And sang to a small guitar,‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,You are,You are!What a beautiful Pussy you are!’
Pussy said to the Owl, ‘You elegant fowl!How charmingly sweet you sing!O let us be married! too long we have tarried:But what shall we do for a ring?’They sailed away, for a year and a day,To the land where the Bong-tree growsAnd there in a wood a Piggy-wig stoodWith a ring at the end of his nose,His nose,His nose,With a ring at the end of his nose.
‘Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shillingYour ring?’ Said the Piggy, ‘I will.’So they took it away, and were married next dayBy the Turkey who lives on the hill.They dined on mince, and slices of quince,Which they ate with a runcible spoon;And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,They danced by the light of the moon,The moon,The moon,They danced by the light of the moon.

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!’

Pussy said to the Owl, ‘You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?’
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

‘Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?’ Said the Piggy, ‘I will.’
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Different people have different ways of responding to the thought that they’re very lucky to be alive. For me, it seems to suggest a great responsibility to make the most of it. I mean, we’re extremely lucky to be here. The odds against you being here are far greater than the odds against you winning the lottery so be thankful, and spend your time, your brief time, under the Sun, looking around and rejoicing and wondering and being fascinated and trying to understand everything about the universe in which you are so fortunate to be born.

Professor Richard Dawkins in Beautiful Minds, BBC Four

Hollow Talk by Choir of Young Believers (by ericunderscores)

Findlay Brown - Come Home (by findlaybrown)

WLT - Daughter - Medicine (by watchlistentell)

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