O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Just a Question
So, now that you've got it, what are you going to do with it?
Oh yeah, blame Obama for not getting anything done. Sorry, forgot.