Thirty-three, what a wonderful age to be,
Not only is it alliterative, but,
Funny; geometrically.
Putting this frivolity aside.
You are a wise sage, a visionary,
A much-appreciated inspiration to human awareness,
Leaving your mother and me,
In awe of your amazing accomplishments.
That which so beautifully complicates you
is the birthplace of poetry.
This plaster cast is
By far the hardest thing you'll
Ever have to wear
I was dead thirty three years back
Body was floating on a lake
In the glimmer of moon
Came in a flautist's tune
I was bewitched and lost my track
I was dead thirty three years back (C) rajat kanti chakrabarty
I count the steps from my bed to the door
And I wonder if I can.
I count the steps from my bed to the door
And I wonder if I dare not to.
I've spent years wondering--
I've kept my head in the clouds,
Or in books,
Or under the sheets
To be anywhere but here.
There must have been times when I've been elsewhere
But right now, I forget.
She's everything I prayed for even better
Everything I hoped for, when it rains it pours
And I'm looking at an overflow I'm drenched
In her love with no overcoat. Now I only boast
Because this is heaven sent, my new addiction
No prescription medicine, God prescribed it
True love how do we define it, we both been
Threw the fire but like the hebrew boys we been refined
No gimmicks she's my wife to be, late nights &
Early mornings she's my Methamphetamine
So what I mean to say is that I'm in love,
And I know the feeling is mutual
Its feels like the first date everytime I see you
Thats my lady, my woman of virtue
Its like I'm killing myself at any given time
I hurt you, there's no coming back from a
Suicide attempt doesn't it feel so good on
This side of the fence.
Man, how lucky can
We be
That JESUS stepped-
up, at thirty-three
To set Us of Our sins,
finally free
Dating back, to the For-
bidden Tree
Like a Soldier, he went
to Mt. Calvary
And, gave his Life, for
You and Me
So, Heaven, would be
Ours, for all Eternity
We watched the first trapped miner rise to light,
and marveled at the cable and the wheel,
how mountain might release essential night
to rebirth, on TV – as good as real.
We marveled at the cable and the wheel
a world of nations rigged to save a man
to rebirth, on TV as good as real,
and 32 besides. The footage ran –
a world of nations rigged to save a man.
But eyes grow weary, we gave up the watch,
and 32 besides. The footage ran
without us, engineering notch by notch.
Our eyes grew weary. We gave up the watch
and went to bed with prayers for 32
without us. Engineering, notch by notch;
a wife’s brave smile; the sleepless rescue crew –
who’d go to bed, with prayers for 32,
while mountains might let loose essential night?
A wife’s brave smile, the sleepless rescue crew
watching the last trapped miner rise to light.
Thirty-three R.P.M. records,
Fashionable thirty-three years ago,
I had thirty-three crate-fulls,
I was proud to show...
Some are collector's items,
Or so I'd like to think,
But most are merely music,
Most would now say stink
Thirty-three reasons I've kept them,
Thirty-three long old years,
The thought of tossing them out,
Causes me thirty-three shivering fears
When I'm dead and gone,
Thirty-three tons of dirt,
They'll dump on me,
But I'll know no hurt
Maybe thirty-three paupers,
Will be donated thirty-three
Album each,
And then in thirty-three ways,
From the grave I'll reach.
Birthdays suck therefore
I refuse to turn thirty-four
August third just another day
And that is all I am going to say