I wake up every morning to the sounds of motors roaring,
They are drowning out the voiced in my head.
At night while I am sleeping, I can hear the angels speaking,
But I can't recall a single thing they said.
As I went down to Galway Town, to seek for recreation
On the seventeenth of August, me mind being elevated
There were passengers assembled with their tickets at the station
And me eyes began to dazzle, and they off to see the races
like the moon
you are changeable,
and then soothes
as the sharp mind takes it;
it melts them like ice.
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being is vain
and always fades to nothing,
you plague me too;
now through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
Fate in health
is against me,
and weighted down,
So at this hour
pluck the vibrating strings;
strikes down the strong man,
everyone weep with me!
...but you probably heard it in Latin instead of English, arranged for orchestra and chorus by Karl Orff:[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNWpZ-Y_KvU[/ame]
Jump to 1:38 if it doesn't seem familiar within the first 30 seconds...