Hey Moon
A lyric from Panic! at the disco’s song “Northern Downpour” that often gives old fans flashbacks when heard.
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Hey Moon
a song by john maus. released in 2011. fearured on his album we must become the pitiless censors of ourselves.
"hey moon. its been so long since we saw each other. and i still dream about our get together. im really sorry i don't play so well. this situation i find myself in and youre behind thousands of aliases. when all i long for is some common ground from where we check this and that out. one voice i can lean on. one word i can depend on. what i would give to lie on some second hand couch with you. I'd tell you so much more than here and now allows me to. hey moon. do you ever consider my side too. that im thirsting for the greatness that hides in you. do you ever imagine that the both of us could just be. in the real world. be. simply and easily. just be. hey moon what do you say"
breatharian
breatharian by leena gabor November 8, 2005
Word of the Day on June 3, 2026
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress
"Militarily, that inquest was a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress by Rok'n'rol Wannabe October 19, 2006
Word of the Day on June 2, 2026
fogey
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)