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dedicated for you,mr literature...

You drive me crazy

Why are you messing with my mind ?
You drive me crazy
Why are you telling all these lies ?
You drive me crazy
stop doing all these things to me
You drive me crazy
cause all I want is to be free

I'm feelin' weak
I can not sleep
my head is burning, I feel cold down to my feet
I wanna yell, somebody help
is there a cure for what I got ?
somebody tell me

Your on my mind, I'm so uptight
I feel 'sensation' in my head down to my spine
goin' insane, can't stand the pain
is my condition permanent,
 somebody tell me

24/7 You are on my mind
I'm going crazy
You are the problem and you know but you dont care
Literature you're driving me 'insane'
you can say what you want to
Do what you want to

As long as i love you literature,
 I wont front you
You're the 'sweetest' thing
Let me be your man
Let me hold your 'hand'
or let me be your friend

Meanwhile, I will set the 'date'
literature as you know it's all about the future
Gonna treat you like a queen, like a lady
Chica, Chico You drive me crazy

Your always on my mind
I need you all the time
So come and 'get' with me
cause literature your the one I need
Someone to hold me tight
Cause I can't sleep at night
You are my fantasy
literature, you drive me Crazy!!!!

yang memberontak dengan ekzos :: Khai Artz-Far @ Putera TESL 

::bebot menderum :: kadang-kala kita perlu jadi 'gila' sebentar untuk lepaskan tekanan supaya betul - betul tidak jadi gila.. chill


Anonymous said...

Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss;
Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder,
Swelling on either side to want his bliss;
Between whose hills her head entombed is:
Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies,
To be admired of lewd unhallow'd eyes.

Without the bed her other fair hand was,
On the green coverlet; whose perfect white
Show'd like an April daisy on the grass,
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.
Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light,
And canopied in darkness sweetly lay,
Till they might open to adorn the day.

Her hair, like golden threads, play'd with her breath;
O modest wantons! wanton modesty!
Showing life's triumph in the map of death,
And death's dim look in life's mortality:
Each in her sleep themselves so beautify,
As if between them twain there were no strife,
But that life lived in death, and death in life.

Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue,
A pair of maiden worlds unconquered,
Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew,
And him by oath they truly honoured.
These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred;
Who, like a foul ursurper, went about
From this fair throne to heave the owner out.

What could he see but mightily he noted?
What did he note but strongly he desired?
What he beheld, on that he firmly doted,
And in his will his wilful eye he tired.
With more than admiration he admired
Her azure veins, her alabaster skin,
Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.

As the grim lion fawneth o'er his prey,
Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied,
So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay,
His rage of lust by gazing qualified;
Slack'd, not suppress'd; for standing by her side,
His eye, which late this mutiny restrains,
Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins:

And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting,
Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting,
In bloody death and ravishment delighting,
Nor children's tears nor mothers' groans respecting,
Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting:
Anon his beating heart, alarum striking,
Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking.

His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye,
His eye commends the leading to his hand;
His hand, as proud of such a dignity,
Smoking with pride, march'd on to make his stand
On her bare breast, the heart of all her land;
Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale,
Left there round turrets destitute and pale.
-Will Shakes-

khai artzfar said...

@Anonymouswoah ctat rekod sbg komen trpnjang