THE DAY BEFORE YOU CAME.
By
Abba

I must have left my house at eight, because I always do,
My train, I'm certain, left the station just when it was due,
I must have read the morning paper going into town,
And having gotten through the editorial, no doubt I must have frowned.

I must have made my desk around a quarter after nine,
With letters to be read, and heaps of papers waiting to be signed,
I must have gone to lunch at half past twelve or so,
The usual place, the usual bunch,
And still on top of this I'm pretty sure it must have rained,
The day before you came.

I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past two,
And at the time I never even noticed I was blue,
I must have kept on dragging through the business of the day,
Without really knowing anything, I hid a part of me away.

At five I must have left, there's no exception to the rule,
A matter of routine, I've done it ever since I finished school.
The train back home again,
Undoubtedly I must have read the evening paper then,
Oh yes, I'm sure my life was well within its usual frame,
The day before you came.

I must have opened my front door at eight o'clock or so,
And stopped along the way to buy some Chinese food to go,
I'm sure I had my dinner watching something on TV,
There's not, I think, a single episode of Dallas that I didn't see.

I must have gone to bed around a quarter after ten,
I need a lot of sleep, and so I like to be in bed by then,
I must have read a while,
The latest one by Marilyn French or something in that style,
It's funny, but I had no sense of living without aim,
The day before you came.

And turning out the light I must have yawned and cuddled up for yet another night,
And rattling on the roof I must have heard the sound of rain,
The day before you came.

RUBY TUESDAY
By
Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.

She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don't matter if it's gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She'll tell you it's the only way to be
She just can't be chained
To a life where nothing's gained
And nothing's lost
At such a cost

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

There's no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind.
Ain't life unkind?

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

VINCENT
by
Don McLean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

{Refrain}
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

{Refrain}

For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could've told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you

Starry, Starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget

Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will.

THE TIGER
By
William Blake.

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

EYE OF THE TIGER
By
Survivor

Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive
So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

[Chorus:]
It's the eye of the tiger, it's
the thrill of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor
stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all with the eye of the tiger

Face to face, out in the heat
Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry
They stack the odds, still we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive

[Chorus]

Risin' up, straight to the top
Had the guts, got the glory
Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop
Just a man and his will to survive

[Chorus]

The eye of the tiger
[Repeats to fade out]

PIDDLING PETE

A farmer's dog came down to town,
His Christian name was Pete,
His pedigree was ten yards long,
His looks were hard to beat.

And as he trotted down the street,
'twas beautiful to see;
His work on every lamppost,
His mark on every tree.

He watered every gateway,
He never missed a post;
For piddling was his masterpiece,
And piddling was his boast.

The city dogs stood looking on,
With deep and jealous rage;
To see this simple country dog,
The piddler of his age.

They sniffed him over one by one,
They sniffed him two by two,
The noble Pete in high disdain
Stood still till they were through.

They sniffed him over one by one,
Their praise for him was high;
But when one sniffed him underneath,
Pete piddled in his eye.

Then just to show these city dogs,
He didn't give a damn;
Pete strolled into a grocer's shop,
And piddled on the ham.

He piddled on the onions,
He piddled on the floor;
And when the grocer kicked him out,
He piddled on the door.

Behind him all the city dogs,
Debated what they'd do;
They'd hold a piddling carnival,
To show this stranger through.

They showed him all the piddling posts,
They knew about the town;
And started out with many winks,
To best this stranger down.

But Pete was with them every trick,
With vigour and with vim;
A thousand piddles, more or less,
Were all the same to him.

And on and on went noble Pete,
With hind leg kicking high;
While others lifted legs in bluff,
And piddled mighty dry.

He watered every piddling post,
He watered every sandhill;
Till all the city champions,
Were piddled to a standstill.

Then Pete an exhibition gave,
In all the ways to piddle;
With double drips, and fancy flips,
And now and then a dribble.

And all the time this country dog
Did neither wink nor grin,
But blithely piddled out of town,
Just as he'd piddled in.

The city dogs said: "So long Pete,
Your piddling did defeat us,Ó
But no one's ever put them wise,
For Pete had diabetes.