Wie ein Hauch, der im All balanciert

Wie Schön Wäre Wien Ohne Wiener

Author: Georg Kreisler Artist: Georg Kreisler Album: Unheilbar Gesund

Wien is' a scheene Stadt, das weiß alle Welt! Aber wissen Sie, was mir ganz besonders g'fällt? Weder der Stephansturm noch der Johann Strauss, Nicht a Wiener G'spusi, schon gor ned die Musi, nein, was ich am liebsten hab, ich sag's grad heraus:

Die Messer, die Messer! Die G'schäften sind ganz voll davon! In jeder Zahl, aus Edelstahl und aus der Monarchie. Zum Schnitzen, zum Schlitzen, wohin man schaut auf Schritt und Tritt, für'n Pudel, für'n Strudel und für die Chirurgie. Wer Wien liebt, - und das tun doch heut' die meisten Leut', der denkt bei soviel Messer gleich an diese Möglichkeit:

Wie schön wäre Wien ohne Wiener! So schön wie a schlafende Frau. Der Stadtpark wär' sicher viel grüner, und die Donau wär' endlich so blau.

Wie schön wäre Wien ohne Wiener, ein Gewinn für den Fremdenverkehr! Die Autos ständen stumm, das Riesenrad fallat um, und die lauschigen Gasseln wärn leer, in Grinzing endlich Ruh - und's Burgtheater zu! Es wär herrlich, wie schön Wien dann wär'.

Keine Baustelln, keine Schrammeln, und im Fernsehn kein Programm! Nur die Vogerln und die Pferderln und die Hunterln und die Baam'.

Und wer durch dies' Paradies muß, fände später als Legat statt des Antisemitismus nur ein Antiquariat.

Weder Krankheit noch Genesung, weder Fürsten noch Parlament. Wär für Wien nicht diese Lösung das perfekte Happy-End?

Und der Wein wächst ungetrunken, und die Geigen wer'n geschont. Und der Mond wirft seine Funken tief im Prater auf die Unken. Und die Unken schau'n versunken in den Mond.

Wie schön wär' mein Wien ohne Wiener. Wie ein Hauch, der im All balanciert. Vielleicht gibt's wo a fesche Angina, die ein Wohltäter her importiert.

Wie schön wäre Wien ohne Wiener, nur einmal möcht' ich es so sehn! Und schreite ich sodann den Kahlenberg hinan und bleib oben voll Söligkeit stehn, und seh dann aus der Fern' mein liebes laares Wean, werd' ich sagen: Sehn's, jetzt ist's da schön!

No comment necessary, methinks. At least not for other Viennese.

Why The Hell Did God Have To Create Movies?

That's Why God Made The Movies

Author: Paul Simon Artist: Paul Simon Album: One Trick Pony

When I was born my mother died She said bye-bye baby, bye-bye I said "Where you goin'?" "I'm just born" She said I'll only be gone for a while My mother loved to leave in style And that's why God made the movies

So I laid around in my swaddling clothes Until the doctor came and turned out the light Then I packed my bag And my nametag And stole away into the night Hopeing things would work out alright That's why God made the movies

Say you will, say you will Say you'll take me to your loving breast Say you'll nourish me with your tenderness The way the ladies sometimes do

Say you won't, say you won't Say you won't leave me for no other man Say you'll love me for the way I am Say you will, say you will

When I was born my mother died She said bye-bye baby, bye-bye And since that day I've made my way

The notorious boy of the wild Adopted by wolves when he was a child That's why God, That's why God, That's why God made the movies

Pastoral Scenes Of Ole Dixie

Words and Music: Abel Meeropol Artist: Billie Holiday Album: Single Song: Strange Fruit

Abel Meeropol, a school teacher in New York, wrote Strange Fruit to express his horror at lynchings after seeing Lawrence Beitler's photograph of the lynching of Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith in Marion, Indiana. He published the poem in 1937 in "The New York Teacher", a union magazine As Lewis Allan. Though Meeropol/Allan had often asked others (notably Earl Robinson) to set his poems to music, he set Strange Fruit to music himself. The song gained a certain success as a protest song in and around New York. Meeropol, his wife, and black vocalist Laura Duncan performed it at Madison Square Garden.

Barney Josephson, the founder of Café Society in Greenwich Village, New York's first integrated nightclub, heard the song and introduced it to Billie Holiday. Holiday performed it at Café Society in 1939 and made it widely known and immortal. As of course you did already know, Ms Holiday in her day also did other wonderful things with sad Jewish lyrics and music.

Southern trees bear a strange fruit Blood on the leaves and blood at the root Black body swinging in the southern breeze Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees Pastoral scene of the gallant south The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh And the sudden smell of burning flesh! Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop Here is a strange and bitter crop.

Herr von Braun is learning Chinese

Author: Tom Lehrer Artist: Tom Lehrer Album: This Was The Year That Was

Song: Wernher Von Braun

Gather round while I sing you of Wernher von Braun A man whose allegiance is ruled by expedience Call him a Nazi, he won't even frown "Ha, Nazi schmazi," says Wernher von Braun

Don't say that he's hypocritical Say rather that he's apolitical "Once the rockets are up, who cares where they come down That's not my department," says Wernher von Braun

Some have harsh words for this man of renown But some think our attitude should be one of gratitude Like the widows and cripples in old London town Who owe their large pensions to Wernher von Braun

You too may be a big hero Once you've learned to count backwards to zero "In German oder English I know how to count down Und I'm learning Chinese," says Wernher von Braun

Of all this man's hilarious work the warmest recommendation goes to his 1960ies albums "An Evening Wasted With Tom Lehrer" and "This Was The Year That Was".

From adolescence to senility by way of majurity

Lie Beside Me Baby, That's An Order

Author: Leonard Cohen
Artist: Leonard Cohen
Album: The Future
Song: The Future

This song is about the dangers in the future of the western and other humanities. Mostly of the western one though. We estimate that nobody, not even tinytalk's acknowledged scientific virtual leader Bento Espinosa who was well known for his cheeky judgements would have had the cockiness to claim he was the little open source hacker who not only had understood the need but also practical invisibly written the kernel version of the operating system on which nearly all city based so called civilizations of today and west of the Talas rely upon.

The ubiquity of said OS has something to do with the fact that a peace loving rebel-member of a palestinian sect somehow decided to take verbal steps to blow the Roman-Graeco empire into oblivion allthough his mother tongue, Aramaic, a former official language of fallen empires was not the one of the book from which he taught nor much spoken or understood in the Roman "world empire" but only common in its easternmost part.

Consequently he would have probably not succeeded easily, had not another member of the same sect and earlier the sworn enemy of the former's pubpils, had a vision, or so he said, of his nemesis that turned him around. Be that as it may, the man put his own mother tongue Greek that had even less to do with the book from which they both taught to work. Koine Greek was a kind of Lingua franca of the Eastern Mediterranean and well understood and even read in all of that empire which led to us calling it the Roman-Graeco rather than just the Roman Empire.

The OS's ubiquity has also to do with the fact that 2 British Queens were very busy supporting the activities of the ruling group of humans of their country and so totally acted the way the prophet Bokonon said the world worked.

This song here teaches us who really wrote the holy book that with a few oral inputs later on changed everything and still works like crazy, albeit often not quite like a charm. Let us wait and see how it will do in

The Future

Give me back my broken night,
my mirrored room, my secret life,
it's lonely here, there's no one left to torture.
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
and lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!

Give me crack and anal sex,
take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole in your culture.
Give me back the Berlin wall,
give me Stalin and St Paul,
I've seen the future, brother: it is murder.

Things are going to slide, slide in all directions.
Won't be nothing, nothing you can measure anymore.
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold
and has overturned the order of the soul.
When they said repent, repent,
I wonder what they meant.

You don't know me from the wind,
you never will, you never did,
I'm the little Jew who wrote the Bible.

I've seen the nations rise and fall,
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival.
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going any further.
And now the wheels of heaven stop,
you feel the devil's riding crop,
get ready for the future: it is murder!

Things are going to slide ...

There'll be the breaking of the ancient western code.
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms, there'll be fires on the road
- and the white man dancing.
You'll see a woman hanging upside down,
her features covered by her fallen gown,
and all the lousy little poets coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
- and the white man dancing.

Give me back the Berlin wall,
give me Stalin and St Pau,l
give me Christ or give me Hiroshima.
Destroy another fetus now,
we don't like children anyhow,
I've seen the future, baby: it is murder

Things are going to slide ...