THE BALLAD OF THE HARP-WEAVER
by  Edna St. Vincent Millay
 
"Son," said my mother,
When I was knee-high,
"You've need of clothes to cover you,
And not a rag have I.
"There's nothing in the house
To make a boy breeches,
Nor shears to cut a cloth with
Nor thread to take stitches.
"There's nothing in the house
But a loaf-end of rye,
And a harp with a woman's head
Nobody will buy,"
And she began to cry.
That was in the early fall.
When came the late fall,
"Son," she said, "the sight of you
Makes your mother's blood crawl,—
"Little skinny shoulder-blades
Sticking through your clothes!
And where you'll get a jacket from
God above knows.
"It's lucky for me, lad,
Your daddy's in the ground,
And can't see the way I let
His son go around!"
And she made a queer sound.
That was in the late fall.
When the winter came,
I'd not a pair of breeches
Nor a shirt to my name.
I couldn't go to school,
Or out of doors to play.
And all the other little boys
Passed our way.
"Son," said my mother,
"Come, climb into my lap,
And I'll chafe your little bones
While you take a nap."
And, oh, but we were silly
For half an hour or more,
Me with my long legs
Dragging on the floor,
A-rock-rock-rocking
To a mother-goose rhyme!
Oh, but we were happy
For half an hour's time!
But there was I, a great boy,
And what would folks say
To hear my mother singing me
To sleep all day,
In such a daft way?
Men say the winter
Was bad that year;
Fuel was scarce,
And food was dear.
A wind with a wolf's head
Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
And sat upon the floor.
All that was left us
Was a chair we couldn't break,
And the harp with a woman's head
Nobody would take,
For song or pity's sake.
The night before Christmas
I cried with the cold,
I cried myself to sleep
Like a two-year-old.
And in the deep night
I felt my mother rise,
And stare down upon me
With love in her eyes.
I saw my mother sitting
On the one good chair,
A light falling on her
From I couldn't tell where,
Looking nineteen,
And not a day older,
And the harp with a woman's head
Leaned against her shoulder.
Her thin fingers, moving
In the thin, tall strings,
Were weav-weav-weaving
Wonderful things.
Many bright threads,
From where I couldn't see,
Were running through the harp-strings
Rapidly,
And gold threads whistling
Through my mother's hand.
I saw the web grow,
And the pattern expand.
She wove a child's jacket,
And when it was done
She laid it on the floor
And wove another one.
She wove a red cloak
So regal to see,
"She's made it for a king's son,"
I said, "and not for me."
But I knew it was for me.
She wove a pair of breeches
Quicker than that!
She wove a pair of boots
And a little cocked hat.
She wove a pair of mittens,
She wove a little blouse,
She wove all night
In the still, cold house.
She sang as she worked,
And the harp-strings spoke;
Her voice never faltered,
And the thread never broke.
And when I awoke,—
There sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder
Looking nineteen
And not a day older,
A smile about her lips,
And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
Frozen dead.
And piled up beside her
And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king's son,
Just my size.
 
REFERRAL
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Harp-Weaver/The_Ballad_of_the_Harp-Weaver
LARGER REFERRAL
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Harp-Weaver
BACKSTORY
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edna_St._Vincent_Millay

 

Event details

URL
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/A-TRUTH-IN-THE-SEA-1339272554

CONTENT
TITLE: A TRUTH IN THE SEA
SUBTITLE: A Marcus Preacher tale
AUTHOR: Richard Murray @HDdeviant

STORY:

Summer is the time of ice cream, roller skating, or fun at the beach. Everyone is looking to
avoid baking in the heat, seeing disturbing illusions, succumbing to the frying frustrations.
Thus, a child dead at the beach is an uninvited thing, but not unnatural. Adults can get
killed by tide, and children since ancient times have always gone where they were told they
shouldn't. So, I didn't drive to the hospital expecting a lead like at a cookout. I honestly
wanted a reason to get the wind across my face for an extended time in a dry, smelting day.
But what I got was a recipe for deadly delusion.
Fanning myself, I entered the hospital and per a friend, who kindly informed me that
Freddie Salazar saw the body already, saw the body. Her name was Fatima Branch,
fourteen years old, champion swimmer at Harriet Tubman middle school. Now still in the
eternal waters of death. My friend told me what they only told law enforcement, the young
Branch didn't drown by being forced under. She had no marks across her body, she had no
liquid elements to induce, or signs of inhalations to promote. By all accounts Fatima
Branch kept herself under water. But why?
I acquired the name of the parents to the deceased and the school young Fatima attended
and after a phone book search called some potentials. Finally, I reached Veona Branch
who was quick to hang up but informed me she had already talked to the police. Wanting
to cool off more, I drove to the old slaughterhouse district, now a residence for municipal
workers to churn out their lives with their families. P.S. 352 is like any urban school, whose
neighborhood changed, it once had a choir, a mock trial team, a set of statewide science
fair winners. But the trophies for modernity are bare, except for the swim team, and I could
see the legend that was Fatima Branch.
The security guard informed me that Harry Wecum is teaching some kids how to swim in
the school pool. I traversed the halls of book reports, grading lists, photographs of children
playing to reach coach Wecum. He was helping a child with their form when I approached.
He told me Fatima was a good student, without turning. The harassment in the heat made
him sensitive to questioners. I asked him more about her. Did she have any bullies? Was
she a loner? How was her home life? Did she have any secrets you learned as a coach? he
said no to all with the inner melancholy of a tell all book. I offered to see him again and he
said to be at Jim's Pizza Parlor in an hour.
I took that hour to knock on the Branch's. A male voice replied to go away. I pleaded I didn't
think Fatima was crazy or bad and wanted to tell the positives in her life. The door opened
and Mr. Branch spoke sharply, his posturing a clear message I wasn't getting in.
"She loved to swim, she was loved, a prodigy, that will be on her gravestone"
And Mr. Branch closed the door while I protested and pleaded. And off I went to wait at
Jim's. I asked the pizzaman if he knew Fatima. He said she never came in. The pizza
smelled good but the heat in the parlor was effervescent. Finally, coach Wecum came in.
The coach ordered a slice. I asked him, did he and Fatima go here often? He said yes. And
then I asked him, is there something he can tell me about Fatima that can shed light on her
murder? He said she wasn't bullied, had a good set of friends, whom he named, from what
he could tell her parents were very proud of her swimming ability. She did seem worried in
the weeks before her death, but he didn't know why. I asked him about a pendant her
father wore, seemed like a golden mermaid to me. He said he wasn't sure. He asked
Fatima about it. She wore one as well, and she said it is an ancient water spirit, Tlanchana.
The coach wasn't anymore help but I had something.
I was happy to drive to the museum and caught Doctor Williams on her way home. I asked
her if she knew of Tlanchana. She said it sounds Mesoamerican. But she would call me
tonight. So I headed on home. A kid, great in the water, who believed in a water spirit, kept
herself in the water to her death. Was it infatuation, love, or some sort of fear? Around nine
p.m. the Doctor called. She told me Tlanchana is the name for a water goddess of the
Purepecha people, great metalworkers, before the white Europeans came. She said her
bottom half is serpent not fish and she is usually benevolent. She said Dr. John Thompson
name came up continually on research, and also told me to be careful. She knows how I
like to burn my nose. And I thanked her in a mature way, and went to bed... great child
swimmer, Tlanchana, a watery rest, why?
After a cold shower, the next morning, I quickly found and headed to the clinic of
psychiatrist Doctor John Thompson. I repeatedly pondered why a psychiatrist was
interested in a Mesoamerican mermaid. I didn't know the truth but the statue outside his
practice, on the freshly cut lawn, is like the necklace worn by Mr. Branch. While large
enough for me to notice Tlanchana's serpentine figure. I went inside and as I was asked to
wait by the receptionist the pamphlets plus posters reveal the connection. Dr. Thompson's
practice focuses on healing people from a fear of water, aquaphobia. But I am stuck. If the
deceased Branch was afraid of water, why let herself die in it? If Thompson was who
frightened her to stay in the water, what could he had gained?
Thompson was very somber and assertive. But I immediately noticed his gold necklace.
And asked did he know Fatima Branch. He told me he did and her parents. His tears
seemed true. After a moment, he continued and explained that he is a psychologist for the
healing of natophobia, the fear of swimming. Branch's parents and his other clients have
an uncommon trait of natophobia, in their bloodline. I saw a shrine of candles through a
window and asked what was it for. He said it is for the children of clients, now including
Fatima. He added thousands die from drowning every year, it is rare but not unheard of. He
admitted some of his clients have lost faith in his methods after Fatima's death. I asked
him, did Fatima show signs of fear in the weeks before she died. He said no but I could tell
he pondered himself. I didn't think he thought Fatima was murdered in the water either. I
asked him about his methods and he said that was private to the clients.
On the drive back to the newsroom, I tried to find a seam, to answer why Fatima let herself
die in the water she loved so well. Psychiatrists, ancient deities, coaches, a unique
community, maybe the psychiatrist tried an experiment gone wrong, maybe a secret from
the coach is the key, or a relation, a teammate, or a member of the natophobes succeeded
in some scheme for some reason. I needed more. In the office it was quiet for me. Ethel
and Clay was working on another successful romantic column. A couple long dead in the
city had left messages in jewelry about a tree that saved their community from eminent
domain and real estate sharks. Santos was getting juicy insight on a telenovela. She
learned that Divine Johnson is making a comeback in "My House Mi Casa" as Pearl
Santiago, the Queen mother of the Christophe clan feigned her death in episode two
hundred and eight and is coming back with a completed plan to return to her chair. While I,
investigative reporter of the Renaissance News, sit unactive around the bustle. Malcolm
didn't even find the time to chastise me with so much going for everybody else. And Mallory
called, which proved how little he knew, hoping to get back into the game through me. And
then the phone rang. Coach Wecum told me to come to a road aside a garage near while
safely about the psychiatrist, at three a.m. I asked him why and he said he wanted proof he
wasn't the cause of Fatima's death as law enforcement has been asking more and more
questions about him, and by exposing the psychiatrist, the truth will be revealed. I had no
other leads but I told him, I have an interview with Detective Todd Langer tomorrow
morning which can help his cause. He was overjoyed. And I wrote the introduction to my
column.
After a little dinner with Santos, I headed to the meetup spot, taking the rocky roads to
avoid the main. At least it was cool that night I kept my car locked and out of sight of the
coach whom I watched sitting relatively still in his car, as I crept near. I could see he was
jittering as I snuck aside him, and tapped his window. If only a photo of his reaction had
value. He was surprised I came but said we will need to be careful and observe a ritual. I
asked what kind of ritual. He said the ritual of Tlanchana. I told him, you lied about the
necklace. He said, I didn't tell the police or anyone else what I know, some ancient ritual
wouldn't be believed or would make people think I am crazy. I asked him what evidence
will I see. He said evidence that Dr. Thompson and his patients, including the Branches,
are doing experiments that led to Fatima's death. We walked to the clinic, under the
moonlight, careful not to be seen and enter the backway through some bushes. I saw the
Doctor, and a set of people, including the Branches; he was wearing a feathered headdress
and directed his flock to the pool. The clients undressed and entered the pool, as I took
photos. I couldn't say a bachelor wasn't happy with some of the sights but was worried as
they seemed to live in the water. I asked the coach if Fatima ever showed this ability. He
gave a convincing no with his nodding. Mermaids, people of the sea, in a suburb of the
United States of America. What a story. I saw them under the water for an hour and a half.
They all came out adjusted for the air and seemed overjoyed. During their underwear stay I
asked the coach how he learned about this. He said he read a notebook of Fatima's which
mentioned this a while back, saying her parents always did this on a full moon, like tonight.
I pondered, maybe Fatima tried this away from the pool. That would explain her not coming
up and make her parents or the doctor complicit but the sudden turn of behavior didn't
have a cause. I told the coach, Detective Langer will definitely want to see this, which
made the coach very happy. The coach said he needed to get back to the city, he has early
morning preparations to do. I told him thanks and I will be alright. I wanted to stay and see.
After a meal, and some prayers for the candles, the clients left and the Doctor was alone. I
figured it was about time to head back when a car came back.
Here we go. The Doctor seemed prepared and had a gun in his pocket. He opened the door
for a woman, blond, middle aged. He gestured for her to sit in the lobby and she did and
then he accused her of something and they argued. Between mermaids performing under
the water and mermaids arguing outside of it, I have decent material. Whatever this
woman told the doctor had him in shock. She leaves patient or confident. While I am
confused. A dead champion child swimmer who never came up for air, the venerable
Tlanchana, mermaids in modern times, a coach scared of being exposed, a rogue mermaid
with a secret. I thought of what I learned going back to my car. In my foolishness, I didn't
notice if the car was locked and just entered it. I sat down and someone clubbed me.
Wobbly, I noticed one of two was the coach or the blond woman. I was tied up but I could
talk now.
I asked them what is going on. They both told me to shut up, while they dragged me to the
sea. And I realized i was being taken to where Fatima died. The night tide was coming in
heavy. The moonlight was visible as I held my breath unable to move. A reported in a few
hours would be falsely reported as a news maker who knew of the Doctors practices and
coerced Fatima Branch into a botched story absent anyone's knowledge. A murphy, a sap,
me.
All I could do was focus on the moonlight, and struggle against the ropes. Suddenly, I saw a
snake like figure break the moonlight. A great tide came in. It knocked me out. When I woke
up I was on the beach, alone. I had no idea of what happened to the coach or the blond
woman. But the rope was severed. I took hours to get back to the car. Luckily they didn't
take my money, so I was able to get a bus ride some of the way. I found my car where I left
it and broke in. My camera was intact but I wondered. I checked everywhere in the car, my
wallet, compartments, pockets, trunk, and I checked my journal and the camera. I had
photos of Fatima Branch, I never made, naked. I had essays from her, she never gave to
me. And it nearly all fit. A coach with an inappropriate relationship with a student, a child. A
child of mermaids with one from her flock who had a role in her death. But she knew a
secret so strong she couldn't be revealed.
Sirens. Police sirens. Valentin creeping behind law enforcement, for the Concrete inquirer.
I saw they were headed to the psychiatrist. I followed them in my car. Detective Langer
came out a car and I parked and exited. I took all the planned material in a bag with me and
refilled my camera, took my pad and exited. Langer saw me and was in shock, and said:
"We've been looking for you, the coach came in and confessed to violating Branch,
attempted murder of you and planting false evidence."
I told him if he let me speak to the Doctor, and I will give you the planted material. The
detective said: "only because you had a rough night, and the Doctor and you are only
needed for questioning, five minutes. "
I handed the bag and ran to the door of the clinic and reached it as the Doctor was opening
it to leave. The detective gave the signal and the cops allowed me to push the Doctor back
in. I locked the door and I told him, I saw the mermaids earlier that evening with the coach,
and I saw him argue with a blond woman, who tried to kill me. The Doctor said the water
was a perfluorochemical solution he made. It seemed to ease his patients being able to be
free in the water. I asked, if you knew the blond woman had hurt Fatima, why didn't he go to
the police earlier. He said, she knew the secrets of his practice. If she told, all of his
patients plus him would go to jail. He accepted what he did but his clients are fearful and
desperate people. And then I comprehended the truth behind the candles, and law
enforcement knocked on the door.
I was questioned and said all but my late conversation to the Doctor or the glimmer that is
a foggy photo in my mind. Poor Fatima, harassed into a state of anxiety, believing her death
was what the water spirit wanted. Fatima was a gift, the lone child who survived a cult of
natophobes who wanted to be mermaids to alleviate their fears. And between a coach
preying on her body plus mind, frightened to be exposed and a member of her cult, envious
of Fatima's success with a candle for their own failure. The young swimmer was caught in a
deadly delusion.
Eventually, the body of Marilyn Cox was found washed up on shore. By then the coach, and
all he saw of girls or goddesses, was in jail. The pseudo mermaids, including the Branch's
had swum elsewhere, living in their deadly wet fears. But while Fatima was untouched in
the water. Marillyn seemed to be crushed by a serpent. A benevolent spirit to the fearful,
forgiving even of their sins, but to the treacherous, deadly.

CHARACTER LIST
Marcus Preacher- narrator, investigative reporter for Renaissance News
Fatima Branch- goes to Harriet Tubman middle school
Veona Branch - mother of Fatima Branch
Harry Wecum - swimming teacher at P.S. 352
Mr. Branch- father of Fatima Branch
Doctor Williams- friend of Marcus Preacher
Tlanchana- Mesoamerican water goddess of the Purepecha people
Dr John Thompson - psychiatrist of natophobes, trying to cure them of natophobia
Ethel and Clay- romantic columnist for the Renaissance News, a couple
Santos- female reporter for entertainment news, Renaissance News
Malcolm- head of the newsroom, Editor of Renaissance News
Detective Todd Langer- local cop, knows Preacher
Marillyn Cox- Woman, blond, middle aged, natophobe
Valentine | Pianist and photographer for a local newspaper (favorite piano piece III. Allegro
con spirito by ligeti! ) [Tumblr user @moregaythanyourealized ]
Fredricka "Freddie" Salazar | crime reporter [ Tumblr user @dancingbugs ]
Jack Mallory| private detective (fired from his former job--insurance investigator--after
exposing an embezzlement scheme) [ Tumblr user @gehayi ]



Inspired partially by @DrThomasStockmann challenge in @CRLiterature
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URL
https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/Where-Is-Elaine-Now-part-2-1339330593

CONTENT

The law enforcer turns the pages of the diary to a page unfinished.

March 3rd 2025
Ever since I received that vision of light in Elaine's home I haven't been able to stay focused throughout one day. I never discern an image when I have the episodes of epiphany. But I can feel a spirit, an energy, that I can only deem is cosmic based on how I feel when I regain my normal sensorium. I have asked to see Sister Josephine in the con

The law enforcer puts the diary down and grabs an envelope from his jacket. It has the escutcheon of a cardinal, as a broken wax seal. The law enforcer opens the envelope, and takes out the letter.

Dear Detective Silo,
I joined Saint Lucy's to gain better insight into my visions through study and meditations. While also protect my sight from the meddling and forces outside the quiet peace of the nunnery. Thinking of Elaine I see a kindred spirit who was unable to find peace with divine influence. But from what you said about her, she may have seen or been seen by something dangerous or deadly. I end this letter with a location, from where you can find the information you seek , which may lead you to Elaine or at least to a better comprehension of what she is experiencing.

1023 Castle Road
at Thirteenth and East street

God be with you,
Sister Magda

Post Script
Please Be Careful

for
WATN Chapter 2: Elaine Ghostbusters 2
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NOTES
escutcheon - a coat of arms for a roman catholic cardinal
name for nameless in the bible [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_names_for_the_biblical_nameless ]
Saint Lucy of Syracuse - patron saint of the eyes for roman catholics


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https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/art/The-Ride-Of-Your-Life-1339286160


CONTENT
TITLE: THE RIDE OF YOUR LIFE

Venger trapped the Heroes in the Maze of Doors. The doors forced the Heroes to disperse and Diana, the Acrobat, was eaten into a desert land. This was three days ago. Now after wandering in the desert, seemingly alone, she comes face to face with a sparkling horse, absent a shadow. She approached it and the horse spoke. It called itself, Majikili . It said it had been eaten by a door many years ago and brought to this desert. It continued to explain. Said it traveled many miles for a very long time. Diana pondered how to escape when a horse had gone farther already and found no exit. She pondered and pondered and realized maybe the exit wasn't a location but a state of being. So, she talked with the Majikili , and it told her where it came from, treasures and lands she never knew existed. But Diana never asked to ride Majikili and MAjikili never offered. But when a sandstorm was approaching them from a clear distance. MAjikili offered to allow Diana to ride him and when he did, a path led away from the sandstorm to a hall inside the Maze of Doors. And Diana plus Majikili were overjoyed. Now back in the maze, with Majikili's speed and Diana's staff they fended off the few doors they met or evaded large groups of doors, till Diana reached the other Heroes, each who had gained a friend from a world through a door. 

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muuaji wa kivuli- killer of shadows

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Event details

The song was produced by Rob Base, DJ E-Z Rock, and William Hamilton and built around the Think break sample and other elements from Lyn Collins' 1972 song "Think (About It)." Rhonda Parris was brought in by Profile Records to sing the hook.

video https://youtu.be/phOW-CZJWT0?si=7HGpgSzfprK6NAJz

LYRICS


Right about now, you're about to be possessed
By the sounds of MC Rob Base and DJ, EZ Rock
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
I wanna rock right now
I'm Rob Base and I came to get down
I'm not internationally known
But I'm known to rock the microphone
Because I get stupid, I mean outrageous
Stay away from me if you're contagious
'Cause I'm the winner, no, I'm not a loser
To be an M.C. is what I choose-a
Ladies love me, girls adore me
I mean even the ones who never saw me
Like the way that I rhyme at a show
The reason why, man, I don't know
So let's go, 'cause
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
My name is Rob, I gotta real funky concept
Listen up, 'cause I'm gonna keep you in step
I got an idea that I wanna share
You don't like it? So what, I don't care
I'm number one, do you know, I like comp
Bring all the suckers 'cause all them I'll stomp
Bold and black, but I won't protect
All of my followers 'cause all I want is respect
I'm not a doctor, put them in rapture
A slick brother that can easy outfox ya
'Cause I'm Rob, the last name Base, yeah
And on the mic, I'm known to be the freshest
So let's start, it shouldn't be too hard
I'm not a sucker, so I don't need a bodyguard
I won't fess, wear a bulletproof vest
Don't smoke Buddha, can't stand sex, yes
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
The situation that the Base is in
I'm kinda stingy that's why I don't wanna lend
A funky rhyme to a foe or a good friend
But listen up 'cause I want you to comprehend
'Cause I'm the leader, the man superior
I take care of ya and then ya get wearier
So just sit, my rhymes are not counterfeit
The record sells which makes this one a hit
It won't hurt to listen to Red Alert
Take off your shirt
Make sure it don't hit the dirt
I like the kids; the guys, the girls
I want the ducats 'cause this is Rob Base's world
I'm on a mission, ya better just listen
To my rhymes 'cause I'm all about dissin', 'cause
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight (hit it)
I stand alone, don't need anyone
'Cause I'm Rob, just came to have fun
Don't need friends that act like foes
'Cause I'm Rob Base, the one who knows
About things that make ya get weary
Don't cheer me, just hear me
Out 'cause I got the clout, shout (ho!)
Before I turn the party out
I won't stutter
Project my voice, speak clearly
So you can be my choice
On stage or on record
Go to the Wiz and select it
Take it off the rack, if it's wack put it back
I like the Whopper, f- the Big Mac
If you want static, so let's go
So, throw up your hands
Go for what you know
Bro', I got an ego
Yo, talkin' to me? No, oh
'Cause Rob is in the front, EZ Rock is on the back-up
We're not soft, so you better just slack up
'Cause I'm cool, calm just like a breeze
Rock the mic' with the help of EZ
Rock on the set, the music plays
Only cuts the records that I say
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
All right, now, EZ Rock
Now, when I count to three
I want you to get busy
You ready now?
One, two, three, get loose now!
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make a thing
It takes two
It takes two
It takes two to make a thing
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
It takes two to make
Songwriters: James Brown, Robert Ginyard Jr.. DJ EZ Rock, Rob Base


Think (about it) source material

Sung by Lyn Collins
Written by JAmes Brown
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Think_(About_It)

Rhonda Parris is the voice on the record, not Lyn Collins https://www.npr.org/2018/09/18/648850102/the-voice-behind-one-of-hip-hops-most-famous-hooks

Video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCByeJsq65M

LYRICS
Hey, fellas
I'm talking to you, you and you too
Do you guys know who I'm talking to?
Those of you who go out and stay
Out all night and half the next day
And expect us to be home
When you get there
But let me tell you something
The sisters are not going for that no more
'Cause we realize two things
That you aren't doing anything for us
We can better do by ourselves
So from now on, we gonna use
What we got to get what we want
So, you'd better think, think
Now's the time when we have respect
That's the thing I never will forget
Now baby, I got a lot to live
And a whole lotta loving
That a woman could give, yeah
But before I give it up, I gotta think, think
What the future holds for me
Is too far ahead to see
I don't need no heartache
I can't stand no misery
Let me think, think
It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight
All right, yeah
Don't say it's easy
Know it can be rough
Just plain living
Sometimes it's kinda tough
If it's not in your vision
Don't make no decision
Hey, yeah, all right
So, I'm laying my cards on the table
When it comes to taking care of me
I know I'm able
You may not call it true
But I won't do nothing that you won't do
Said I won't do nothing that you won't do
So think about the good things
Come on and think about the right things
You got to think about me too
Come on and think, think about you
Come on and think about the good things
Come on and think about the right things
Come on and think about me too
Songwriters: James Brown.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_Takes_Two_(Rob_Base_%26_DJ_E-Z_Rock_song)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rob_Base_%26_DJ_E-Z_Rock

Event details