Entertainment is an action, event, or activity that aims to amuse and interest an audience. Forms of entertainment include music, literature, performance, cinema and film, and sport. Read more: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entertainment Entertainment industry (informally known as show business or show biz) – part of the tertiary sector of the economy that includes a large number of sub-industries devoted to entertainment. Read more: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entertainment_industry
I was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
Down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
Where the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
There's freedom when your walking, even though you're walking slow.
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
That homeless brother is my friend.
It's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,
But living's so much harder where the heartless people go.
Somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know
That Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.
And they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill,
And they see the ragged tatters as another kind of frill.
And they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,
And they're sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill.
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
That homeless brother is my friend.
Somewhere there was a woman, somewhere there was a child,
Somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.
But some where's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,
You'll find the broken-hearted when you're travelling jungle style.
Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,
Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again,
Where the night stick cracks with crazy rage, where madmen don't
pretend,
Where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end.
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
That homeless brother is my friend.
The ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,
The Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.
The children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight,
There's not spot round the melting pot for freemen in their flight.
And you who live on promises and prosper as you please,
The victim of your riches often dies of your disease,
He can't hear the factory whistle, just the lonesome freight train's wheeze.
He's living on good fortune, he ain't dying on his knees.
Smash your bottle on the gravestone, and live while you can,
That homeless brother is my friend.
A man epitomised empathy when he wrote. From Vincent to a hobo,
he seems to have a wonderful ability to fit into any mans shoes, walk that mile and take you with him.
I've got a story about Don McLean. When I was a kid, I was a in classroom that was next to the hallway in our school. One year when the some bullshit play was taking place - which I obviously refused to be in - Don McLean's 'American Pie' was part of the production. I had to listen to that song being rehearsed by a bunch of eight year-olds over and over again for weeks. It's totally ruined the song for me, and to this day whenever I hear 'American Pie', I can hear a group of tuneless eight year-olds singing it in my head. Which is a shame, as I'm sure it's a really good song.
I do like the one about Vincent van Gogh, though.
The true measure of a man is not his intelligence or how high he rises in this freak establishment. The true measure of a man is this: how quickly he can respond to the needs of others and how much of himself he can give - Philip K. Dick.
I've got a story about Don McLean. When I was a kid, I was a in classroom that was next to the hallway in our school. One year when the some bullshit play was taking place - which I obviously refused to be in - Don McLean's 'American Pie' was part of the production. I had to listen to that song being rehearsed by a bunch of eight year-olds over and over again for weeks. It's totally ruined the song for me, and to this day whenever I hear 'American Pie', I can hear a group of tuneless eight year-olds singing it in my head. Which is a shame, as I'm sure it's a really good song.
I do like the one about Vincent van Gogh, though.
Awesome lyrics.
Si me puede disparar los conejos, a continuación, puedo disparar fascistas
I've got a story about Don McLean. When I was a kid, I was a in classroom that was next to the hallway in our school. One year when the some bullshit play was taking place - which I obviously refused to be in - Don McLean's 'American Pie' was part of the production. I had to listen to that song being rehearsed by a bunch of eight year-olds over and over again for weeks. It's totally ruined the song for me, and to this day whenever I hear 'American Pie', I can hear a group of tuneless eight year-olds singing it in my head. Which is a shame, as I'm sure it's a really good song.
I do like the one about Vincent van Gogh, though.
I'm glad at least they didn't spoil the Vincent Van Gogh song for you, although both songs are great mate, played by him.
A love letter to the NSA agent who is monitoring my online activity.
I've got a story about Don McLean. When I was a kid, I was a in classroom that was next to the hallway in our school. One year when the some bullshit play was taking place - which I obviously refused to be in - Don McLean's 'American Pie' was part of the production. I had to listen to that song being rehearsed by a bunch of eight year-olds over and over again for weeks. It's totally ruined the song for me, and to this day whenever I hear 'American Pie', I can hear a group of tuneless eight year-olds singing it in my head. Which is a shame, as I'm sure it's a really good song.
I do like the one about Vincent van Gogh, though.
That sounds like torture mate.
Who thought that was a song that 8yr olds would 'get' ffs?
P.s.
Something I meant to include in my earlier post is that the word 'hobo' is actually just an abbreviation of 'homeless brother'.
The kind of useless trivia I love.
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