I am a young sailor my story is sad
Though once I was a carefree and brave sailor lad
I courted a lassie by night and by day
But now she has left me and sailed far away

If I were a blackbird I'd whistle and sing
And follow the ship that my true love sails in
And in the top rigging I'd there build my nest
And lay down my head on her lilly white breast

If I were a scholar and could handle a pen
One secret love letter my true love I'd send
And tell of my sorrow my grief and my pain
since she's gone and left me in yon flowery glen

I sailed over ocean my fortune to seek
I missed her caress and her kiss on my cheek
I returned and I told her my love was still warm
But she turned away lightly and great was her scorn

If I were a blackbird I'd whistle and sing
And follow the ship that my true love sails in
And in the top rigging I'd there build my nest
And flutter my wings on her lilly white breast

I offered to take her to Donnybrook fair
and buy her fine ribbons to tie up her hair
I offered to marry and stay by her side
but she says in the morning she sails with the tide

My parents they chide me they will not agree
Say married to my false love I never should be
but let them deprive me and do what they will
while there is breath in my body she's the one I love still

Andrew M. Stewart

I stood out here once before
With my head held in my hands
For all that I had known of this place
I could never understand…

On the hills the fires burned at midnight
Superstition plagued the air
Sparks fly as the fires burn at midnight
The stars are out and magic is here…

I wished on the seven sisters
Bring to me wisdom of age
All that's locked within the book of secrets
I longed for the knowledge of a sage…

On the hills the fires burned at midnight
Superstition plagued the air
Sparks fly as the fires burn at midnight
Stars are out the magic is here
The stars are out the magic is here…

So, the sisters smiled to themselves
And they whispered as they shone
And it was from that very instant
I knew I would never be alone…

While on the hills
The fires burned at midnight
Superstition plagued the air
Sparks fly as the fires burned at midnight
Stars are out and magic is here
The stars are out and the magic is here…
Many stars were forgotten
Many faded and became ghosts
Still my sisters glittered down from heaven
Always there when I needed them most…

And on the hills the fires burned at midnight
Superstition plagued the air
Sparks fly as the fires burn at midnight
Stars are out and magic is here
The stars are out and magic is here…

I stood here once before
With my head in my hands
For all that I had known of this place
I could never understand

On the hills the fires burned at midnight
Superstition plagued the air
Sparks fly as the fires burn at midnight
Stars are out and magic is here
Stars are out and magic is here
Stars are out and magic is here
Stars are out and magic is here

Blackmores Night

Um sádico, um masoquista, um assasino, um necrófilo, um zoófilo e um pirómano estão sentados num banco de jardim, sem saber como ocupar o tempo.
Diz o zoófilo: Vamos apanhar um gato!
Diz o sádico: Vamos apanhar um gato e torturá-lo!
Diz o assasino: Vamos apanhar um gato, torturá-lo e matá-lo!
Diz o necrófilo: Vamos apanhar um gato, torturá-lo, matá-lo e violá-lo!
Diz o pirómano: Vamos pegar num gato, torutrá-lo, matá-lo, violá-lo e pegar-lhe fogo!
Diz o masoquista: Miau!


Depois de isto tudo só tenho duas coisas a dizer:
1º Axo que tinha mais piada pegar fogo ao gato antes de o matar...
2º Miau?

Ah pois é!

Ainda hoje, enquanto me dirigia para o MacDonnalds's do zoo (e sim Elsa, o Ronald MacDonald é um palhaço!), pensava para mim mesma:
*Hoje vou variar... Vou comer outra coisa sem ser BigMac... Talvez um CrispyBacon ou whatever....Not BigMac, not BigMac, not BigMac....*

Cheguei ao balcão, e que palavras sairam automaticamente da minha boca?
"Era um McMenu com BigMac e coca cola , sff...."

*Oh, Fuck. There I go again... Can't help it! BigMac BigMac BigMac!*

(E é neste momento que a imagem do "Olha quem fala, também" se introduz na minha mente. Sim, aquela com uma matilha de lobos a correr tipo...batalhão (ou matilha, como quiserem), e a entoar em coro: "Fresh meat, fresh meat, fresh meat!".

Sorry, I had to do it... That picture just sticks in my brain like a post-it!
(Uncle Fungus?)