It moved me then, and it still does.

Musical exchange.

Apart from sharing a love for a country that has been used and abused by many, and many more to come; it turned out that we share a love for music as well. So I dedicate this relatively long (but short in content) page to you my true Lebanese friend. I hope that you will enjoy it.

La Perigourdine, St Germain.

Echoes

In a friend's apartment in Queen's Gate London, after a night at the Spider and Rock; Georges, a guitar, a record player and Lebanon on our mind. One example of how Culture Club, Madness, Del Amitri, Petshop Boys, Squeeze, Costello... and others were replaced for a short period of time.

The great divide.

Two major influences during my college days in England in an American college I would like to share.

Baron Von Tollbooth and me.

Many are the nights I have spent in the company of the Baron in the late seventies, dreaming of Grace and better days to come.

TFEH !!!

To my fellow countrymen on both sides of the divide, I dedicate (in two parts) the following with a deep feeling of shame that is eating me up inside.


1) Prophets of doom and gloom who gave up their rights for freedom and dignity thinking that one voice could not make a difference.
TFEH !




2) Half witted idiots willing to settle for "the lesser evil" claiming "beddna n3ish"
Once again TFEH !



Pride and Lebanese has become a contradiction in term lately.

TFEH !!!

Children of the eighties

Well I think it's fine, building jumbo planes.
Or taking a ride on a cosmic train.
Switch on summer from a slot machine.
Yes, get what you want to if you want, 'cause you can get anything.

I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?

Well you roll on roads over fresh green grass.
For your lorry loads pumping petrol gas.
And you make them long, and you make them tough.
But they just go on and on, and it seems that you can't get off.

Oh, I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?

Well you've cracked the sky, scrapers fill the air.
But will you keep on building higher
'til there's no more room up there?
Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die?

I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?





We're the children of the eighties haven't we grown

We're tender as a Lotus and we're tougher than a stone.
And the age of our innocence is somewhere in the garden.

We like the music of the sixties

It's The Rolling Stones
The Beatles and The Doors.
Flower children
Woodstock and the war.
Ah
but it's getting harder to deceive us.
And we don't care if Dylan's gone to Jesus
Jimmy Hendrix is playing on.
We know Janis Joplin was the Rose
ah
but all the stuff she put in her arm.
We are not alone.
We're the children of the eighties haven't we grown
. . .

Some of us are the sisters and the brothers

We take a leatherjacket and a single golden earring.
Hang out at Discos
Rock shows
lose our hearing

Take uppers
downers
blues and reds and yellows.
Our brains are turning to jello
We are looking forward to the days when we live inside of a purple haze.
And the salvation of the soul is Rock and Roll

We are the children of the eighties haven't we grown
. . .

Recently have you looked in our eyes

Maybe with your conscience in disguise.
We're well informed and we are wise
please stop telling us lies.
We know Afganistan's invaded and we know El Salvador's dictated

Ah
but our lives have just begun
we are the warriers of the sun.
We're the golden boys and the golden girls
For a better world.
We are the children of the eighties haven't we grown
. . .

Many Rivers To Cross

Many rivers to cross
But I can't seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of Dover

Many rivers to cross
And it's only my will that keeps me alive
I've been licked, washed up for years
And I merely survive because of my pride

And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's such a drag to be on your own
My woman left me and she didn't say why
Well, I guess I'll have to cry

Many rivers to cross
But just where to begin I'm playing for time
There have been times I find myself
Thinking of committing some dreadful crime

Yes, I've got many rivers to cross
But I can't seem to find my way over
Wandering, I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of Dover

Yes, I've got many rivers to cross
And I merely survive because of my will...