Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays

have lighted fools The way to dusty death.

Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow,

a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more:

it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing


Monday

Thanks for the jam Syd


Tuesday, July 11, 2006


Down the wire, the news of the day, is the death of co-founder for Pink Floyd, Syd Barret.

From Pipers at the Gates of Dawn

I know a mouse
Who hasn't got a house,
I don't know why
I call him Gerald
He's getting very old
But he's a good mouse

Your the Kinda Girl
That fits into my world
I'll give you anything, everything
If you want thing
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