SR Urie

A Free One
by W.H. Auden

Watch any day his nonchalant pauses, see
His dextrous handling of a wrap as he
Steps after into cars, the begger's envy.

'There is a free one,' many say, but err,
He is not that returning conqueror,
Nor ever the poles' circumnavigator.

But poised between shocking falls on razor-edge
Has taught himself this balancing subterfuge
Of an accosting profile, an erect carriage.

The song, the varied action of the blood,
Would drown the warning from the iron wood,
Would conceal the inertia of the buried:

Travelling by daylight on from house to house
The longest way to an intrinsic peace,
With love's fidelity and with love's weakness.









Social Disease
Elton John

My bulldog is barking in the backyard
Enough to raise a dead man from his grave
And I can't concentrate on what I'm doing
Disturbance going to crucify my days

And the days they get longer and longer
And the nightime is a time of little use
For I just get ugly and older
I get juiced on Mateus and just hang loose

And I get bombed for breakfast in the morning
I get bombed for dinnertime and tea
I dress in rags, smell a lot , and have a real good time
I'm a genuine example
of a social disease

My landlady lives in a caravan
Well that is when she isn't in my arms
And it seems I pay the rent in human kindness
But my liquor also helps to grease her palm

And the ladies are all getting wr inkles
And they're falling apart at the seams
Well I just get high on tequila
And see visions of vineyards in my dreams

And I get bombed for breakfast in the morni ng
I get bombed for dinnertime and tea
I dress in rags, smell a lot , and have a heart of gold
I'm a genuine example
of a social disease

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So, mid the fun that marks this sacred day,
Well put on serious looks, and say our say
But if we choose to strut and put on airs,
While Athens founders in a sea of cares,
In days to come, when history is penned,
Theyll say we must have gone round the bend
Ill tell you what I think about the way
This city treats her soundest men today:
By a coincidence more sad than funny,
Its very like the way we treat our money.
The noble silver drachma, that of old
We were so proud of, and the recent gold,
Coins that rang true, clean-stamped and worth their weight
Throughout the world, have ceased to circulate.
Instead, the purses of Athenian shoppers
Are full of silver plated coppers.
Just so, when men are needed by the nation,
The best have been withdrawn from circulation.
Men of good birth and breeding, men of parts,
Well schooled in wrestling and in gentler arts,
These we abuse, and trust instead knaves,
Newcomers, aliens, copper-pated slaves,
All rascals-honestly, what men to choose!
There was a time when youd have scorned to use
Men so debased, so far beyond pale,
Even as scapegoats to be dragged from jail
And flogged to death outside the city gate.
My foolish friends, change now, its not too late!
Try the good ones again: if they succeed,
You will have proved that you have sense indeed.
[from The Frogs and Other Plays by Aristophanes.
Trans. David Barrett]