Showing posts with label Ennio Morricone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ennio Morricone. Show all posts

Monday, July 6, 2020

July 6, 2020



Using the Empire State building to launch fireworks was brilliant.



Ennio Morricone, RIP.

Friday, November 11, 2011

November 11, 2011



Ennio Morricone: The Story Of A Soldier Lyrics

Bugles are calling
from prairie to shore,
"Sign up" and "Fall in"
and march off to war.
Drums beating loudly,
Hearts beating proudly
Match Blue and Grey
And smile as you say Goodbye.
Smoke hides the valleys
And fire paints the plains.
Loud roar the cannons
'Til ruin remains:
Blue grass and cotton
Burnt and forgotten
All hope seems gone
So soldier march on to die.
There in the distance
A flag I can see,
Scorched and in ribbons
But whose can it be;
How ends the story,
Whose is the glory,
Ask if we dare
Our comrades out there who sleep.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

November 7, 2010



Nice having an extra hour.



Zenyatta finally loses one, still came from behind like a champion.



Marathon Sunday, will watch the ending.
**Gebre Gebremariam 2:08.14, averaging under five minutes a mile.
Edna Kiplagat 2:28.20, averaging a little over five and ½ minutes a mile. ** Wow, how do they do it ?



The Good, The Bad and The Ugly was On Demand, Three hours and I have the DVD, but always worth the visit. "Music ..very good for the digestion." "More feeling."

Mario Brega as Cpl Wallace, the fat one :

Tuco: I like big fat men like you. When they fall they make more noise. And sometimes they don't get up.

Veteran's Day is coming up:
Ennio Morricone: The Story Of A Soldier Lyrics

Bugles are calling
from prairie to shore,
"Sign up" and "Fall in"
and march off to war.
Drums beating loudly,
Hearts beating proudly
Match Blue and Grey
And smile as you say Goodbye.
Smoke hides the valleys
And fire paints the plains.
Loud roar the cannons
'Til ruin remains:
Blue grass and cotton
Burnt and forgotten
All hope seems gone
So soldier march on to die.
There in the distance
A flag I can see,
Scorched and in ribbons
But whose can it be;
How ends the story,
Whose is the glory,
Ask if we dare
Our comrades out there who sleep.



R.I.P. Jill Clayburgh.



Cum Sancto Spiritu.