Billy: I sure never figured on you taking on the badge.

Alamosa Bill: Didn't figure on it myself. I was just in town being sociable. Rode in from Seven Rivers to watch you hang. Garrett swore me in when you lit out.

 

Alamosa Bill: [Billy and Alamosa prepare to shoot it out] I don't suppose there's any other way we could work this out? Nah. Well, let's get to it. Ten steps?
Billy: Suits me. You count 'em.
[long pause]
Billy: You ain't thought of another way, have you?
Alamosa Bill: No, I can't come up with nothing.
Billy: Get to it.

 

 

Source: IMDb Ė Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid ( 1973 )

 

 

 

 

 

Knockiní on Heavenís Door

By Bob Dylan

 

 

Mama, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore.
It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door

Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door

Copyright © 1973 Ram's Horn Music

 

 

 

 

 

Dunblane Memorial Garden. Stirling District Council, Scotland.

 

 

 

 

 

KNOCKINí ON HEAVENíS DOOR - 21/12/1996
By Ted Christopher

Lord, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore
It's gettin' too dark, too dark to see
Felt like knockin' on heaven's door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
I feel like knockin' on heaven's door

Lord these guns have caused too much pain
This town will never be the same
So for the bairns of Dunblane
We ask please never again

The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green
He leadeth me
The quiet waters by

Lord put all these guns in the ground
We just can't shoot them anymore
It's time that we spread some love around
Before we're knockin' on heavens door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
knock, knockin' on heaven's door

Lord put all these guns in the ground
We just can't shoot them anymore
It's time that we spread some love around
Before we're knockin' on heavens door

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door


Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
I've been there too many times before

 

 

 

 

 

 

Songs for the People


LET me make the songs for the people,
    Songs for the old and young;
Songs to stir like a battle-cry
    Wherever they are sung.

Not for the clashing of sabres,
    For carnage nor for strife;
But songs to thrill the hearts of men
    With more abundant life.

Let me make the songs for the weary,
    Amid life's fever and fret,
Till hearts shall relax their tension,
    And careworn brows forget.

Let me sing for little children,
    Before their footsteps stray,
Sweet anthems of love and duty,
    To float o'er life's highway.

I would sing for the poor and aged,
    When shadows dim their sight;
Of the bright and restful mansions,
    Where there shall be no night.

Our world, so warn and weary,
    Needs music, pure and strong,
To hush the jangle and discords
    Of sorrow, pain, and wrong.

Music to soothe all its sorrow,
    Till war and crime shall cease;
And the hearts of men grown tender
    Girdle the world with peace.


Frances E. W. Harper

 

 

 

Info_island_memorial

 

Virginia Tech Memorial -New World Notes: Non-profit/social applications of SL

 

 

 

 

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