HungOverAndUnder aka Hells Weapon

All the Joy has gone, poisoned and sterile
All the Happiness is dead, carved from my heart.
All that remains is a darkness that sits inside

All the nice words have gone sour,
All the kindness shredded
All that remains is a little voice

A little voice that knows what to say
A little voice that whispers so seductively
A little voice that says that death is warm and loving
A little voice that says that life is not worth living

Despair is his name. Despair is what he does.
Loves has taken her gentleness away, departing in the wind
Despair is there to embrace, to offer comfort and support.
Saying that the pain can end with just a little cut.

Who would miss you? You cause nothing but pain
Even those that promise you love can’t stand you around
Just I little cut, a small pain against the searing hurt if the heart

The warms of flowing blood, the spray of loves vile poison.
The cooling of the pain the numbing of the soul
Then end of living, then the end of pain.

He knows just what to promise, what I want to hear.
He knows that in this blankness reason has no place
He knows all of this because always there

He’s been living in my soul, waiting with a smile.
Watching be build my house of cards knowing that they’ll fall
The last time it was a noose, this time the knife.

Despair knows his trade, despair works so well
Despair has always been there, never far way.
Ready with his embrace whenever I need a hug

Reason is not yet slain, hope makes its last stand.
But when all is said and done, when reason and hope do fight
The truth is still right there, a cannon primed to blow.

Despair has lit the fuse on only waits the blast
Truth is a evil thing, that shows what has happened past
Truth holds on fast and the truth is set in stone that despair has carved

Because the truth is that whenever I have happiness it always slips away
The only time I rise is so that I can fall
That in this impassive world it is selfish man that shapes

Hope make is stand, using it one weapon.
That the future is yet written, that rises can’t all fall
That the evil that men do is ignorance not malice.

Yet what can hope say that despair can’t dispel.
The battle is still rages, yet despair is still rising.
The knife it is still gleaming and the blackness all-consuming

The song of my heart is muted.
Not a sound can it sing.
When my love calls to you.
it's embraced is cold rejection.

Why is it so?
What crime did love commit?
None save the crime of memory.
None save to waken that,
which you wish to slumber.

So for you it is silent.
For you it lies chained.
Waiting for the day of judgement.
 where you will give it freedom
or slay it for this crime

i've had a busy day.

i had an early morning where me and the rest of the family took my niece to the seaside for the first time.
morning started out bad, mother was driving and decided to take a short cut and got totally lost.
an hour later she finally admitted that she was lost and asked for directions seeing how she had neglected to bring a map of any sort with her.



So after an hour of going round in circles, literally, we headed off in the right direction and it seemed to be going well until this moron rear ended us. luckily the rented mini van got away with nothing but a dent in the bumper. we got to the seaside at midday and it was piddling down.

so we broke out the brollies and jumpers and took my niece to play on the beach after a picnic lunch under the rear hatch of the bus.


 
on the way she asked for an ice cream so i brought her one and after one lick my sister took the ice cream and ate it herself, though in fairness it was melting and it's owner wasn't that interested in it.

then we hit the beach and my niece had a great time jumping in the puddles and getting thoroughly drenched then she did some digging and went rock collecting.



then we retreated to the fair and she had some fresh doughnuts and rode the carousel a few times played on the coin fountains and then enjoyed the fun house and the helter-skelter.

 




after the rain stopped we went for a walk down the promenade and her then raided the shops and wanted everything, (we managed to get away with some toy boats, a ball and a windmill).







after much walking we headed back to the bus for the return journey all tired and having had a really good time.

Okay this is list of what I’ve posted

Finished:
12 Kingdoms
A Chinese Ghost Story
Ah! My Goddess – OVA, The Movie, TV Series Season 1 & Season 2
Banner of the Stars Season 1, Season 2, Film
BASToF Syndrome
Black Jack - The Movie & The Series 14 of 38
Blue Gender - The Warrior
D Gray Man 81of 81+
Demonbane
Gakuen Alice
Galaxy Angel Season 1, Season 2, Season 3
Guyver The Bioboosted Armor
Magic Knights Rayearth Season 1 & 2
Mini Goddesses
Night Head Genisis
Nightwalker
Paranoia Agent
Project Arm
RahXephon 13 of 26
Roujin Z
Sci Fi Harry
Space Pirate Cobra
Tenjou Tenge OVA
The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya
Vampire Hunter D & Bloodlust
Witchblade
Xenosaga

All links lead to the collections where the videos are in the group. enjoy

PS Requests can be made here

here's the next chapter. if you missed the last one it's here:Dark Tide by Me Chapter 1 - Awakening
As usual comment and suggestions are welcome

Picking himself up from the floor and shaking of the bone shattering landing of the fall he’d just taken. Jack looks again at the strong wiry figure of the vampire that has just thrown him twenty feet across the room. Watching the iron hard muscles move under the training uniform, enjoying the way the exertions of the training makes her bosom rise and fall as she breathes. Such a lovely package for such a deadly fighter and the fact he was three throws to two up on her only made her deadlier. This is a woman that would sooner die than admit defeat.
Standing he squares off with her again, slowly allowing the burn to build around him. Concentrating on using only the minimum that he’s needs require. Of course he thinks to himself the minimum when working out full contact with a fully trained and blooded wolf hunter wasn’t a small amount.

Slowly they begin to circle each other seeking an opening while offering inviting targets to draw the other in. the heat of the burn coursing through their bodies. Turning a mocking eye onto her he taunts “tell you what Suzy pucker up and we’ll call it a draw”, the anger flames behind her eyes driver her into a frenzied attack. Kicks snap with lightning speed at his head, feet and body. Blocking dodging and absorbing, he takes blow after blow waiting for his opening, and then it comes a powerful kick driving into his head, kicking the burn to full he sees blurring foot slow, crawling though the air towards his face, waiting for the last instant before ducking letting the kick rip through the air above him, his hands moving, pushing the leg speeding her kick, pushing her out of balance. Darting in he lands a fast hard blow to her ribs. Then hooking an arm round her neck he pivots on his hip flipping her over sending her flying. Only to see her twists cat like through the air landing in a crouch her fighting stance perfect bar the arm cradling her ribs.
Her nostrils flaring as she smiles, a soft warm gentle smile. Only given away by the deadly glint sparkling in her eyes. Her sweet contralto purring, “You played me did you, you played me like a fiddle and you almost had me.”
Jack smiles and bows his head not denying the truth of her statement. Squaring off again they begin to circle, this time though Jack move in to attack, ruthlessly exploiting the damage he’d done to her ribs. Driving blow after blow at her body making her twist and stretch to protect her wounded ribs.
He presses an attack drawing close, hooking a leg round hers knocking her off balance leaving her to fall to the floor so he can claim his victory only to have her tangle her hands in his uniform twisting as she falls, pulling him under her to hit the floor first with her body slamming onto his, claiming the point that brings them even, panting with exertion she presses her lips to his kissing him, tangling her hands in his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss, feeling him kiss her back with desperation.

He breaks the kiss pushing her from him and walking from the gym into the locker room, slamming his fist into the wall over and over again leaving a smear of blood, looking at the bleeding mess of his knuckles, seeing the stop flowing and the skin begin to patch over the raw mess. Disgusted he pulls the training uniform off and dumps it in his locker wrapping a towel round his waist as he heads to the showers, to wash of the filth, disgusted with himself, his wife dead not a month and here he is kissing another woman. He wants to blame her for kissing him but he can’t, he didn’t have to kiss her back. What sort of animal is he, able to turn his back on eight years of marriage in a few measly weeks? Scum that what he is, total scum. How could Jane have ever loved him, his cheating heart betraying her before she’s even cold?
“What the fuck is up with you?”
Shocked he spins round “Hey this is the men’s locker room, what the hell are you doing in here?”
“Asking you why you left before we were done.”
“Done with what?”
“You know what, it was three throws each, next was for the win.”
“Oh you wanted to settle the last bout by wrestling tongues did you?”
She steps forward and he backs up a step, “What’s up big boy, does the bad girl, scare you?”
“What the fuck? My wife has just been murdered.”
“So, life goes on.”
“You heartless bitch, what the fuck do you know about life going on?”
She advances jabbing a finger into his chest with each word, “you arrogant, jumped up, mother fucking asshole, do you think you’re the only one here who’s lost someone. Get a clue! Everyone here has, I saw my mother’s half eaten body… my two baby sisters butchered. And you say I don’t know…” she turns her back on him shaking, shaking with what he take as rage until he hears the pain stricken sob of loss that’s torn form her body.
Stepping forward he wraps his arms around her, turning her and pressing her head to his shoulder, unable to hold back the sobbing she cries into his embrace. His hand stroking her hair, his voice whispering wordless comforts as the tears he hasn’t let himself shed flow down his face, soaking into her hair, holding each other as they pour their grief and pain into the other.
With out words her head comes up and his lips drop to hers, kissing with a desperate need to feel alive, even as they remember the dead holding each other as their bodies press together, even as his towel falls to the floor.

That had been a week ago, since then they’d spent almost every second together. Now he had his first mission, a recon team had spotted a Lycanth heading down town and were currently tracking it back to its lair. The team was assembled and Jack was on it for the first time, his first mission on the road to get revenge on the monsters that had destroyed his life.
Seated in the briefing room Cornelius enters and addresses the gathered troop. “As I’m sure you know we’ve been tracking Lycanth activity in the downtown area, we’ve finally located the source, he’s holed up in this abandoned building.” He clicks a slide projector bringing up image of a rundown apartment block, “Your mission tonight is to capture the animal and bring it here for questioning. We have intelligence that there’s an alpha pack operating in the city and we need information on their whereabouts.”
He pauses for a second, “The attack plan is this. Team 1 will enter the building from the sewers and clear the building room by room, working up until they meet Team 2, who will insert from the roof and work they’re way down. Team 3 will position themselves here, here and here” he point off locations on the surrounding buildings, “they will cover the area with sniper rifles ensuring that nothing escapes. Questions?”
“Do we have a count of the Lycanths?”
“We have a confirmed count of 7 but were assuming between 10 and 20.”
“Okay mount up the trucks roll in 40 minutes”

Sitting in the back of the truck as it roles out of the underground car park, he performs a final check of his weapons, he’d opted for a combat shotgun, similar enough to the pump action ones that the police use that he could be confident in his ability to use it, the only differences being the addition of a 15 shot mag and no need to pump it to load the next round, he also does a check on his backup weapon, this one a heavy calibre pistol. The other members of the team sitting with him are likewise checking their weapons, no not ‘the team’ ‘his team’ these people that he would risk his life I with, the people he that would hold his life in their hands, known as simply as ‘team one’ it was where he belonged the team was broken into two squads
the first Alpha Squad was lead by a guy called Marion Fairbanks, a nice name, a name that say the  owner of it is a nice guy the type that a girl wants to take home to meet the folks, but no one would be taking him to meet the folks he’s earned the nickname puppet for how easy it was to pull his strings he’d probably be a good man to have beside you in a fight, but the guy had a temper like none other. How he’d manage to stay out of jail long enough to be recruited was beyond Jack.
Next to him was Fingers, Martin Smith was a small guy standing only 5’2, but as his squads demo expert he knew his way around a bomb like no other and rumour had it that the last person that called him ‘little man’ to his face had woken up with a grenade strapped to each hand while hanging upside down from the ceiling of the gym.
The guy in the middle was Sam Crooker know as Rogue and that was exactly what he was a charming guy with a likable personality that loved to bend the rules.
Then there was Sally a tall brunette that was nicknamed Spider Jack had yet to learn why
Finally for Alpha squad was Greg O’Connor. Unimaginably nicknames Paddy for the strong Irish accent that had.
On the other side of the truck was Beta Squad by some twist of fate they’d ended up with a playing card theme, which had lead to Jack getting the nickname of Naïve.
The Squad leader was Suzy, known as Queen. Her beautiful body hidden under the layers of combat
Then there was Max the Joker of the pack it there was a bad joke he new it, a practical joke he’d pulled it, in fact.
Then there was Jules, a kind gentle soul, known as Ace, always there for his friends always smiling nothing like what you would expect from a trained killer.
The last man was Jerry Leferton, known as Lefty after a accident in his demolitions training had him in the hospital wing re-growing a hand.
All good people, good people to live with and die for. To all appearances no different from any human force heading out on a mission, some engaging in playful banter, others quietly reading or playing cards.

The truck stops, the sound of men moving can be heard beyond the throbbing hum of the engine. The sound of metal on metal, a grunt of exertion followed by to clank of the manhole cover hitting the floor, the soft sound of the rope being pulled through the loops of metal that hold the soft material to the side of the truck and the solid thud of a fist hitting the rear door of the truck, the signal that the way was clear.
With out a sound the first team head out, dropping from the side of the truck, a quick dash followed by a drop and a splash. In less than a minute all ten members of the assault team have vanished from sight, the manhole cover in place and the truck roles off, leaving not a sign that anything unusual had ever happened to this sleepy road. Using hand signals the team lines up and heads of to the target at a ground eating lope, splashing though the water and things best not thought about too much.
Finally as they are in position they break radio silence sending a single word to let control know they are in position and ready. Waiting for the single word that will come back when all teams are ready launching them on the attack. Ready to risk their lives to slay the monsters that have caused so much pain. Finally it comes the word. In a single move all safeties are removed and the explosives on the ceiling blow. As the solid concussion surges past the team grenades are already soaring through the hole.
Blasting the room with a hail of burning metal.

Even before the echoes of the first blast have faded the first member of the team jumps through the holes using the burn to propel him through the jump that would be impossible for any normal human, he lands and sweeps the room with his weapon, ready to hit anything that was waiting for him. Another team member launches through the hole landing and sweeping even as the first heads to the rooms single door. The next though the hole is Suzy, Max followed by Jack.

The Team splits into its two squads one going left from the door the other right. Working on a simple routine. The team members with sub-machine guns cover the corridor, while those with shotguns enter the room and clear it. While the demo expert covers the rear. They clear the first two rooms without incident, on the third Jack kicks the door open only to meet a huge shape rushing towards him, gleaming white teeth seeking the soft yielding skin of his neck. The shotgun in his hands coughs twice. The heavy powerful balls of the shot tearing into the creature’s body, the first blast stopping the charge as the second tears it’s head into a pulped mess that sprays back from the body. Even before it’s body hits the floor another set of jaws plunge at his neck. Barely being stopped by the deafening boom of a shotgun going off next to his ear.
Clasping his ear Jack falls to the side unable to hear blood flowing from he ruptured eardrum. Quickly his hearing returns as his body heals itself. Gritting his teeth as he looks at his fellow shotgun wielding partner, Jules, “Christ Ace, are you trying to kill me?”
“What’s up Nave? Think that kisses better than ‘Queen’?”
Suzy shouts in “Knock it off you two, clear the room and move on.”
The cough of a shotgun blast from behind proves that the other squad were meeting resistance to their sweep as well. The scratching of claws as ‘things’ move on the floor above breaks the sudden silence. The deadly anticipation of attack hold the team still as weapons aim down the corridors of the building, waiting, but the sound draws no closer.

On locating the stairs to the next floor Lefty quickly attaches the premade charge that will guard the stairs while they finish their sweep. Systematically sweeping the floor until the meet up again with the rest of the Team. Together they return to the stairs, cautiously removing the booby trap, they form up to move to the next floor.
With a swift kick Rogue smashes the door open, leaving the snarling beast just on the other side standing shocked into immobility for the four shotguns to boom as one, the tattered body flies from the Vampiric soldiers dead before it hits the floor.
In pairs they begin to advance but barely has a step been taken before a hideous blood curdling cry snarls from dozens of animal throats a cry of pain, loss and the desire to avenge their lost brethren.
The powerful deadly bodies surge around the corner of the stair, so close. Shotguns flare again felling two of the creatures. But in the time it takes the bodies to fall four more hungry mouths reach tearing fangs for soft yielding flesh.
The first eight of the beasts blown into the haze of blood, yet there is no end to the stream, the stuttering flash of the machineguns join the belching roar of the larger weapons. More of the horrific creatures fall be with each fresh body the mass moves closer, closer until the jaws snap shut on the arm of Fingers throwing his body into the others knocking them down more Jaws snapping, tearing, rending. Jack slams his weapon into the face, snapping teeth and pulping flesh. Kicking it away and pulling the trigger, spraying a red mist back over the next target.
The world slows as the full power of the burn rising inside, aiming at the next creature and pulling the trigger, waiting forever for the deadly flare to rip his target apart but only finding the empty click of a spent magazine. Pulling the knife from his boot and dropping the weapon he slams its through the chin of the jaws again reaching for him. Pinning them shut and tearing into the brain.
Buying just enough time to bring his pistol the bare, empting the clip as fast as he can, felling more of the beasts.
Yet still they come over half the team is down. Suddenly a whirling blur tears into the beasts taking hideous damage, being torn and ripped but still it pushes deeper. Until finally felled it is felled, as their eyes meet a silent message passes between them, then even before even Jack’s vampire enhanced body can even shout a single word, a searing flash bursts forth spreading with infinite slowness as the burn lets him see the hideous beauty of the explosives Lefty had fought so valiantly to get into the heart of the enemy blast his body to pieces. destroying the demonic breasts around him, the wave of death spreading, spreading, with the last of time he has Jack throws his body onto the torn and bleeding form of Suzy, his Suzy. As the wave of fire swallows his consciousness he presses his lips to hers.

“We’ve a survivor”, the words ring in the darkness, the feeling of hands, the sensation of movement. “Hey make that two, looks like she’s in torpor.”
Groggily Jack opens his eyes. Moaning as the pain of his blasted body rips though his conscience yet those words drive back the pain, “She’s in torpor” she is alive, barely, but she is alive. His tortured soul doesn’t need to face that pain again. The sigh of release is the last sound he makes before the blackness of unconsciousness claims him again.

“He’s coming round” Jack flutters his eyes opening them onto the dimly lit room.
“Where am I?”
“Back at headquarters, Minotaur Industries”
“M-M Master Cor-” a coughing fit wracks his body trying to clasp his hands to his face, to move at all, but his body doesn’t respond.
“Easy lad, aye it’s me” a cup is lifted to his lips letting him sip the water and ease his throat… but that sweetness, that sticky sweet tang never belonged to any water, blood the sweet taste of blood filling his mouth. His mind rebels but his body knows its need only blood will sate it. A thirst greater than any he has ever know drives him to drink again to feed his battered wounded body. NO, NO his mind screams squashing the thirst under his mental heel.
“Suzy?”
“It was a near thing but the blast made you bite through your tongue, your wound feed her, sustained her body until we found her she’s going to be fine though, as are you.”
“I can’t feel my arms?”
“No you wouldn’t, you don’t have any, legs either. But they’ll grow back”
“The Rest of the team?”
“Only Sam O’Connor made it, the blast brought the building down and killed the Lycanths. Afterwards it was an easy job for Team 3 to pull the Wolf from the wreckage while the rest of us dug you out. Team 2 only lost one and that was Max.”
“Gone?”
“Yes just Mr O’Connor and Miss Sandoval are left. Get some rest you’ll be here for a while growing back your limbs.” The man hesitates as if judging if his next words are too soon. “Congratulation on completing your first mission. It was a huge success your family can rest a little easier tonight”

Lying there watching the ceiling this had been the most boring week of his life.
His arms removed just below his shoulders had regrown, just his hands were now missing and his feet, the stumps itched like hell but at least he knew they’d be fully healed in a few days. Days? The speed his body was healing was unbelievable yet it was not his healing that he was thankful for but Suzy’s from what they’d told him only his body had saved her, she’d been ravaged by the beasts, the Lycanths, yet she still lived. In fact she’d be up and about before he was. She might have taken more overall damage but growing back missing body parts was a slower process than patching up the wreckage that was left of her body.
“I wonder when she’ll come and visit.” Jack announces to the empty room.”
“She already has”
“Suzy?” Jack turns his head looking for the source of the voice however no one is there
“Don’t bother looking for me and no this isn’t Suzy”
“Who are you?” the voice seems to becoming from the flowers on the table.
“I’m and Agent for the Concordia’s Stiletto, I’m also a Pure Blood vampire so capable of changing my form.”
“You’re the flowers?”
“Very good, I have concealed a small radio in them, don’t bother looking without fingers you’ll never find it and if you call for help I’ll hit the self destruct on the radio. Firstly do you know who the Stiletto are?”
“No, why should I?”
“No reason you should, but let me tell you a little about who we are. We are the military wing of a collation of Vampire clans collectively known as the Concordia. It is our aim to build a world where vampire and humans can live side by side in harmony. The Brother hood of blood is one of the military wings of our largest rival the ‘Viavodus-Carrena’ their position is that humans are inferior to vampires so should be slaves to the vampires whims. However the Brotherhood of blood is a specialised force that persecutes their war against the Lupine, they do this by murdering the loved ones of its recruits and blaming the Lupine for the murder.”
“Hold on your saying…”
“Yes the Lupine did not kill your family, in fact the Lupine are our biggest allies in our war to keep humanity free.”
“Your allies with those animals?”
“They are far from animals, the Lupine are as human as you are. Only they have no need to consume human blood so have no need to harm any human.”
“I’ve seen them and their blood lust in action”
“Have you? You used to be a cop so think about it use your investigative mind. When you examined your house did you find any evidence of an attack by blood crazed animals?”
“Well no but–”
“Did you find evidence that anyone had been in your home at all?”
“Yes–”
“The ring, so you know that vampires had entered your home. You KNOW that vampires where at the scene of the crime yet saw no evidence of Lupine. As a cop who would be the prime suspect?”
“The vampires, but…”
“Yes the dangled a target for your rage and hurt in front of you and you took it. I’m not asking you to believe me, yet, but carry on your investigation yourself. If you want to talk afterwards then turn your name card upside down in your locker and I’ll contact you again.”
A soft pop and a small splash and a fizzing ball sits at the bottom of the vase the flowers are in. it fizzes until just a few scattered pieces remain nothing that anyone would ever suspects used to be a radio.

For my love the stars do shine
For you my love the stars are not enough

For my love the Sun does rise
For you my love the Sun is but a candle

For my love my heart does beat
For you my love my heart is thine

For my love my arms do hold
For you my love they embarce you so

For my love my eyes do see
For you my love they i yearn to see

For my love i miss you so
For you my love are life to me

For my love my dreams do call
For my love they show me you

If angels sing of beauty they sing of you,
When my eyes behold they see why the heavens weep over your loss.

If art speaks of love it speaks of you,
Because you outshine anything that mere motals can divine.

If the world shows us life then it showed me you,
because before that day life had no meaning.

When my heart speaks of you it sings.
I love you so my angel sweet, my heart is yours and beats only for you.

Source  http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A753527

Please Note:

This entry discusses the etymology and application of a selection of words that, to varying degrees, can be considered vulgar or offensive. As a necessity, this entails the use of said words, and it is strongly advised that, should you find such words distressing or inappropriate, you do not read on beyond this point.

For the rest of you, there now follows an informative and hopefully educational entry on a potentially controversial topic - bad language...

Mind Your Language

etymology (n) an account of the origins and the developments in meaning of a word.
Concise Oxford Dictionary.

Once limited to blasphemy, 'bad language' has evolved over many thousands of years to represent both the lowest and the highest forms of human expression. Such words can cause the greatest offence if used casually and repeatedly, at an inappropriate time or place, or in the wrong company. Yet often, a well-timed swear-word can make people laugh. Among friends, almost any word might be considered acceptable, while even the mildest of curses might be distressing if heard coming from the mouth of a child. Even something as simple as the type of voice a person has can affect how the word is received. Should a British Royal swear it might be considered witty, while the exact same phrase coming from an East-end garage mechanic might be interpreted as crude and base. And words that might once have been commonplace are nowadays considered entirely unacceptable.

The Atlantic - The Great Divide

Two nations divided by a common language.
Oscar Wilde.

With swearing, context is everything. Words that are in common use in the UK are indecipherable to American ears, and vice versa. It takes more than just a simple 'bloody' (a corruption of 'By your Lady', a religious exclamation from the Middle Ages') to swear like a Brit. Most British swear-words have a history longer than that of the United States itself, evolving out of even older European languages such as Norse, High German and Latin (hence British phrases like 'a stream of Anglo-Saxon' or, most commonly, 'pardon my French'). For instance, the word 'ass' in American-English, meaning buttocks or anus, evolved from the British word 'arse'¹. Before WW1, people in southern English would pronounce the word 'ass', meaning donkey, with a long 'a', making it indistinguishable from 'arse' in spoken English. Considered only moderately vulgar in the UK, it can be put to a number of different, often contradictory uses...

• The phrase 'can't be arsed' signifies apathy or a lack of enthusiasm, yet to 'get your arse in gear' means to become organised or to 'hurry up.

• 'Arse over tit'/'tip', 'arse over apex', 'arse up' or 'arse about' are all phrases which describe a spectacular prattfall or clumsy action. The word 'prattfall', incidentally, also means 'arse over tit'; 'pratt' being an old word for 'arse' that has come to lose its meaning over the years. The word 'pratt' is still, however, used to this day to mean a fool.

• A 'Smart arse' (signifying someone who is too clever for their own good) can be used either affectionately or to cause offence, while 'Silly arse' merely means a fool. To 'arse about' can also mean to play the fool. A 'short-arse', however, is someone with short legs.

A less-offensive term for 'posterior' in the UK is 'bum', which in America might referred to as 'butt'. It made its first appearance in around the 14th Century, and was put to good use by Shakespeare: In Measure for Measure, Escalus asks Pompey what his second name is. 'Bum, Sir' replies Pompey. To which Escalus replies 'Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; so that in the beastliest sense you are Pompey the Great.' (They don't tell 'em like that any more - thank goodness). However, in America the word as a noun has come to means tramp or hobo, while as a verb to mean 'scrounge' or borrow'.

Body Talk - Male

Variations on 'arse-up' include 'balls-up', which tends to be used to describe when things go badly, as in 'that meeting was a total balls-up'. A 'ballsy' person would be feisty or determined, while describing someone as 'not having the balls' to do something would mean they're cowardly, a clear masculine-reassurance insult. In America - specifically American gangster movies starring Joe Pesci - the phrase 'busting my balls' equates to annoying or nagging someone. This highlights another difference between American and British usage; in Britain the phrase is used to mean 'trying very hard at something' in much the same way as a Brit might say 'busting a gut'.

A stronger British term for testicles, which rhymes with 'frollocks', is probably worth a guide entry of its own. To talk this word would mean to talk rubbish or to be misinformed, while to say something is 'the dog's...' (often gentrified as 'the mutt's nuts') would suggest it is the best there is. Legend has it that in the 1950s, construction kits like Meccano would be sold in boxes of various sizes. The list of contents which came with the standard size box would be headed 'Box, Standard' (which elided into 'bog standard' when spoken) and the larger box was the 'Box, Deluxe' which was spoonerised to create the phrase 'The Dog's B******s'. This is such a satisfying explanation for two common forms of British English usage that one really wants it to be true.

The word's probable derivation is so non-vulgar as to be quite amusing. Specifically, a bollock is a pulley-block at the head of a topmast, otherwise known as a bullock block. This was used to great effect to prevent the Sex Pistols' album Never Mind the Bollocks from being censored. A refreshing example of the legal system grabbing hold of the wrong reason and using it to do the right thing.

• A 'B******ing' on the other hand, is a severe dressing down or ticking off. The reason for this is mercifully unclear.

• Brits will say 'b******-naked' while Americans will say 'butt-naked'. Why Brits verify nudity from the front and Americans verify it from the rear is anyone's guess.

Although the phrase 'cock-up' might appear to have come about in a similar way to 'balls-up', its origins are actually in beer making. If the batch went bad, they turned the cock (ie tap, or faucet) up to drain the barrel. However, the word 'cock', a Middle and Old English word, is one of the many vulgarities for the penis. In London, though, Cockneys appear to have both terms in mind when they say 'Wotcher cock', which comes from the term 'cock sparrow' (pronounced 'sparrah'). It is a general term for a man, although 'cock sparrow' was usually saved for small boys. It has been used for about 300 years.

A more childish term for penis is 'willy' or 'willie'. This British English word had audiences sniggering in the aisles of cinemas throughout the UK when the first trailers were shown for the film Free Willy. On the other hand it is tempting to wonder whether or not the celebrated actor and rapper Will Smith had taken advice on the way in which British audiences might interpret the title of his 1997 album Big Willie Style (though it's unlikely he would actually have objected to the misunderstanding). Willie is essentially an innocent playground word, and there was delighted laughter across the land when commentator Brian Johnson referred to two players during a cricket match, pointing out that 'The bowler's Holding, the batsman's Willey'.

Body Talk - Female

The word 'fanny' in America is, like, 'bum', mildly vulgar, meaning 'buttocks'. In the UK, however, it is rarely used in polite conversation as it would be interpreted as meaning 'vagina'. If someone is being vague or indecisive, they can be said to be 'fannying about'. In the 1970s, there was a pioneering all-female American rock band called Fanny. They were originally called Wild Honey (which is almost as suggestive) and they adopted their new name on the recommendation of ex-Beatle George Harrison, without being aware of the British usage. In 1970, Fanny covered Cream's Badge, and this song earned it air-play for their self-titled debut LP. The girl's name, 'Fanny', does of course result in chuckles on either side of the Atlantic. Anthony Trollope's mother, Frances, wrote a highly critical book called The Domestic Manners of the Americans. The Americans were rather non-plussed since they simply could not believe that the 'Fanny Trollope' was not a pseudonym. There is also the phrase 'sweet Fanny Adams' which is sometimes abbreviated to 'sweet FA'. Fanny Adams was an eight-year-old child who was murdered and dismembered in Alton, Hampshire, in 1867. Her grave is still there. At around the same time, the British Navy started preserving chopped mutton in tins, and the sailors - always an uncouth lot - described this as 'sweet Fanny Adams' which eventually came to mean 'nothing of any good at all'. An unhappy epitaph to a nasty story.

One of the most offensive terms for female genitalia, the c-word, is the ultimate four-letter word in British English, the final media taboo. The first use of the word in a UK TV drama was in Mosley, a drama about the rise and fall of the British Fascist leader Sir Oswald Mosley. This was first shown on Channel 4 in the late 1990s. The word is also the title of a novel by Stewart Home, published in 1999, about the break down of a writer as he rather badly loses the plot, both literally and creatively.

The word has Germanic cognates including old Norse (kunta), middle-Dutch (Kunte) and possibly High German (Kotze meaning prostitute), which all point to a pre-historic germanic ancestor kunton. A Latin word, Kuntus, meaning wedge, might also have been an influence. The word would appear to have entered the English language during the early Middle Ages; in 1230AD, both Oxford and London boasted districts called 'Gropecunte Lane', in reference to the prostitutes that worked there. The Oxford lane was later renamed the slightly less-contentious Magpie Lane, while London's version retained a sense of euphemism when it was changed to 'Threadneedle Street'. Records do not show whether it was a decision of intentional irony that eventually placed the Bank of England there.

The word has good Shakespearian usage, though even he was a little subtle. Hamlet asks whether he can lie in Ophelia's lap, 'I mean, my head upon your lap?' and then says 'Do you think I meant country matters?' and follows up with 'It is a fair thought to lie between maids' legs'. Ophelia answers non-committally to most of this. A slightly more bawdy use of the word appears in Carry On Don't Lose Your Head, one of a series of British comedy films of the 1960s, in which actress Joan Sims refers to her husband, 'The Count', deliberately pronouncing the word 'Count' with just enough room to be (mis)interpreted while still getting past the British film censors.

There is a story in Oxford that one of the religious societies in England's oldest university was the Cambridge University New Testament Society, though that has the whiff of urban legend about it. And more recently, there is a rumour that the former Newcastle Polytechnic had got to the stage of printing their letterheads with the name City University, Newcastle upon Tyne before noticing what they were doing.²

Other Universities can also be hotbeds of a certain inspired madness. Late in 2000, feminists in Penn State in the USA held a 'C***fest' with the stated objective of reclaiming the word, which, according to Inga Muscio in her book C***: A Declaration of Independence, stems from words that were 'either titles of respect for women, priestesses and witches, or derivatives of goddesses' names'. (Though how that squares with what the dictionaries say is not entirely clear). Not surprisingly, the local community did not see the event in quite the same way.

The abusive term 'Berk' also derives from this word, being cockney rhyming slang, short for 'Berkshire Hunt'.

An alternative to this word is the t-word, which comes from an Old Norse word for cut or slit. Pronounced to rhyme with 'hat', or, in some regions, 'pot', it is widely used in the UK as a slightly more expressive form of 'twit'³ or 'idiot', and it seems likely that many of the people using it do not know what it means, or at least choose not to think about it. They are in good company. Robert Browning clearly didn't when he wrote the following lines in Pippa Passes:

Then owls and bats
Cowls and twats
Monks and nuns in a cloister's moods,
Adjourn to the oak-stump pantry.

However it is probable that he was misled by a poem printed around 1660 when that well known and scurrilous poet Anon stated:

They talked of his having a Cardinal's Hat,
They'd send him as soon an Old Nun's Twat.

Which appears to be why Browning thought it meant a piece of nun's clothing, specifically a wimple; and is a clear lesson to us all to check words we don't understand in a dictionary, and not to infer meaning from context.

A Scottish alternative to these words, little-known south of the border, is 'fud'.

Intercourse

Although this sounds like the most Anglo-Saxon of all Anglo-Saxon words, the origin of the f-word meaning 'sexual intercourse' is actually rather obscure. There is a legend that the old name for the crime of rape was 'Forced Unlawful Carnal Knowledge', and part of the punishment was that an abbreviation of the crime would be branded on the perpetrators head. Hence, people with 'F. U. C. K.' on their head were known to be rapists. A similar story is that during the time of the plague when it was necessary to increase the population a royal injunction was issued telling the common folk to 'Fornicate Under Command of the King.' These, however, would appear to be acronyms intentionally spelling out an existing word rather than new creations themselves.

Eric Partridge, a famous etymologist, has suggested that the Old German 'ficken' or 'fucken', meaning 'to strike or penetrate', was related to the Latin words for pugilist, puncture, and prick⁴ , or to the Latin 'futuere' which had the slang meaning 'to copulate'. There are also clearer links to Dutch where 'fokken' means breed and is applied to cattle, and to a Swedish dialect word 'fokken' which has the English meaning. Certainly, all the earliest uses of the word in English came via Scotland, suggesting a Scandinavian origin⁵.

Records from as early as 1278 identify a man called John Le-Fucker (which, considering people often had names to do with their occupations, makes the mind boggle), and it was certainly in common usage by the 16th Century, appearing in a dictionary, John Florio's A World of Words, in 1598. By the 18th century, it had became a vulgar term; It was even banned from the Oxford English Dictionary.

DH Lawrence's Lady Chatterly's Lover (written in 1928) was the first serious (ie non-pornographic) book in English to use the word accurately and in context and was famously banned for over thirty years. In 1960, US publishers Grove Press won a court case permitting it to publish the book in America, meaning it was the first time the word had been legally used in print, while three years later, the ban was overturned in a British court in the infamous 'Lady Chatterly trial'. American author Norman Mailer used the euphemism 'fug' in The Naked and the Dead, and when famous wit Dorothy Parker met him at a party, she said, 'So you're the young man who can't spell f***?'

It has been recognised as one of the most versatile words in the English language, and can be put to use as an expletive, an adjective, a noun or a verb, as demonstrated in an email circular that has been widely distributed over the years.

Poet Laureate Philip Larkin used the word in the opening lines of one of his poems, writing one of those sentences which is simple, lucid and which cannot possibly be expressed in any other way:

'They fuck you up, your Mum and Dad,
They may not mean to, but they do'

Kenneth Tynan the enfant terrible of mid 20th century British cultural criticism was the first person to use the word on British TV, on the BBC no less, during a live discussion programme, sparking a major and significant debate in the British press. Everyone could see what the articles were about, their eyes were drawn by the asterisks.

The word is often shortened by Brits to just 'Eff', as in the phrase 'effing an blinding' to describe someone who swears a lot. ('Blinding' probably refers to an archaic usage 'God Blind Me' still heard in 'Cor Blimey').

The F of the f-word also appears in various quasi-military acronyms most of which can be traced back to and may even have been spawned by the second world war. There is 'FUBBED up' - 'F****d Up Beyond Belief'; FUBAR - 'F****d Up Beyond All Recognition'; FUNDY - 'F****d Up, Not Dead Yet' - as used on the notes of patients in hospitals who were, well... FUNDY. There is also: 'NFW' - 'No F***ing Way'; and 'SNAFU - 'Situation Normal, All F****d Up'. This last one is reputed to be the origin of 'naff', which was popularised in Britain in the 1970s programme Porridge, and reportedly used by Princess Anne⁶. In recent years, it has also come into gay parlance to disparagingly refer to heterosexuals - standing for 'not available for f***ing' or, less commonly, 'not a f***ing fairy'.

In 1999, Conservative Future - the youth wing of the Conservative Party - started using the logo 'CFUK'. Sadly, this got them into trouble with the clothing company French Connection UK, who had recently rebranded themselves 'fcuk'. It is strange to think that there may be an entire generation who, like Norman Mailer, cannot spell the word.

A phrase that, until recently, was almost exclusively American, is 'mother-f****r'. Despite sounding very Oedipal, this does not have Freudian derivations. The word was apparently coined by African slaves to describe the slave owners who had raped the slave's mothers. Simple as that.

From the Middle English for 'wriggle' or the Old French for 'rub', 'frig' is sometimes used as a euphemism for 'F***', at other times used to mean 'masturbate'; usually only seen as a gerundive (or verbal adjective) 'frigging'. The Sex Pistols did a version of The Good Ship Venus with the chorus 'Frigging in the rigging 'cos there's f*** all else to do'.

Literally 'one who commits buggery' (anal sex), 'bugger' derives from Bulgaria and the Bogomils. These were originally a heretic Christian sect who were stigmatised as sodomites. Section 12 of the UK 1956 sexual offences act refers to buggery. According to this, buggery is sexual intercourse between males or between male and female in an 'unnatural manner', or between male or female with an animal in any manner whatsoever. This word is often used affectionately, as in 'lucky bugger'; 'jammy bugger'; 'flash bugger'; 'old bugger' and so on, and is sometimes softened to 'beggar'.

The famous and probably apocryphal epitaph says, 'Under this sod, lies another'. Sod means turf, but here is an abbreviation for 'Sodomite'. Sodomy is, like 'bugger', anal sex, and the word 'Sodomite' refers to the population of the Old Testament city Sodom which was destroyed by God because of the sinful ways of its inhabitants. He destroyed its twin town Gomorrah at the same time, and it is tempting to wonder what the people of Gomorrah did to be ranked with the Sodomites. Schoolboys also used to snigger at the Good King Wenceslas verse which goes:

In his master's steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod
Which the saint had printed

This was also the word which brought about the trial and imprisonment of Oscar Wilde. The Marquis of Queensbury was the father of Wilde's young lover Bosie, and in a rage he accused Wilde on paper of posing as a 'Somodite' (so not only was he narrow-minded, he couldn't spell either). Bosie encouraged Wilde to sue for libel, but the truth is no libel and when it became clear that Wilde was indeed a sodomite, he was in turn tried and jailed for it.

In recent years, an alternative to the f-word has grown in popularity, largely thanks to the Austin Powers films. 'Shag' has a dozen or so definitions that are completely non-sexual though; one comes from the Old Norse for beard, hence 'shaggy' to describe someone or something that looks loose and unkempt (cf 'shag-pile carpets'). There are the small marine birds called shags (Phalacrocorax aristotelis or Phalacrocorax punctatus) of Europe and North Africa, which are related to the cormorant. The famous Liver Birds on the crest of Liverpool are inspired by these river waders. 'Shag' is also a kind of coarse tobacco, so it should be possible to go into a tobacconist and ask the person behind the counter to give you their best shag without being arrested. In 1987, the American soul group The Tams had a Top 30 UK hit with a song called There Ain't Nothing Like Shaggin'. They were probably rather puzzled to hear that what they regarded as an innocent little ditty about a dance craze was having trouble getting airplay in Britain. And you would think that Americans in the entertainment industry would have learned to check the titles of their movies and indeed the names of their bands and songs for international innuendo. Mind you, it must be tempting to mislead them if you are the person who they ask for the advice.

Micturations

Swear-words that do not pertain to body parts invariably refer to bodily functions or secretions. It's true to say that the first swear-words most children learn are scatological, focusing on urination ('wee-wee') or excretion ('plop', 'poo'). As we get older, though sexual swear-words tend to predominate, there is still a resistance to progressing beyond what Freud described as the 'anal phase'.

Excrement

Both a noun and a verb, meaning excrement and to excrete, and also used an adjective, 'shit' is a true Anglo Saxon word. Curiously, the past participle of 'shit' was once 'shitten', as shown in Chaucer's General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales where he refers to the 'shitten shepherd and clene sheep'. Though we might expect this to have evolved into 'shitted', the more common form of the word in the past tense is in fact 'shat'. 'Shite' is an alternative form of the word, particularly used in Scotland, Ireland and Northern England.

In the 18th Century Jonathan Swift describes the disillusion of an obsessed voyeur called Strephon in the following lines:

Thus finishing his grand survey,
Disgusted Strephon stole away
Repeating in his amorous fits,
Oh! Celia, Celia, Celia shits!

'Bullshit', an Americanism, is used to mean 'rubbish' or 'nonsense', and from that we get the back-formation 'bull'.

'Crap' is vulgar, but less so than 'shit'. In addition to 'excrement', it can be used to mean 'stuff' or 'things'. Like shit, it may also be used as an adjective: a Brit might describe something as being crap or crappy, in the same way they might describe something slightly worse as shit or shitty. There are two possible origins for the word. The word has links to the Middle English for chaff, and the Middle Dutch 'to tear off' which is more suitable than ever in these days of velvet-soft toilet tissue. A second possible origin is the Victorian plumber named Thomas Crapper who gave the world the syphonic flush: British Standard 7357 (1990) still requires that 'Cisterns shall be supplied with an efficient flushing apparatus of the valveless syphonic type which prevents the waste of water.' Crapper left his name not only on toilet cisterns, but also on manhole covers across southern England. And thus a crapper is a toilet, and not the person who uses it.

• Crap is obsolete slang for money, which is presumably the origin of the Craps game. So an American might 'throw a crap', that is they might throw a seven while trying to make a point. These American usages leaves Brits either sniggering or confused or both.

• Crap is a noun rather than a verb, and Brits will 'have a crap', except when they are afraid, then they are 'crapping it'.

• Confusingly 'crapulence' (from the Latin for being drunk) is sickness caused by heavy drinking. However it often also involves toilets.

Urine

The word 'piss' (or, in Scotland, 'pish') has its origins in Latin (pissare) and French (pisser), an onomatopoeic word to describe the sound of urination. One of the mildest swear-words, it nevertheless has a major influence on a number of common British phrases.

When men sleep, the build-up of urine in the bladder puts pressure on the man's prostate gland, resulting in an erection. In the 17th and 18th Centuries, a man who was thought to be unnecessarily arrogant would be described as 'piss-proud'. The New Canting Dictionary of 1725 contained an entry on 'vain-glorious or ostentatious me' which read:

One that boasts without reason, or, as the Canters say, 'pisses more than he drinks'.

If you were to ridicule someone for being too 'full of themself', you would 'take the piss' out of them. As the word 'piss' became categorised as vulgar, the phrase was modified - 'taking the micturations', later shortened to 'taking the mickey' (nothing to do with a person called Michael). With the invention of the urinal, gentlemen would aim towards a small illustration of a bee, intended as a 'pissing point', the Latin word for bee being 'apis', while a domestic commode would be referred to as a 'piss-pot'. In Britain, the link between alcohol and urine is clear: a night out might be described as 'going on the piss'; if a person appears to be spending his money excessively on alcohol he is said to be 'Pissing it against the wall' - presumably on the same principle that you don't buy bad beer, just rent it; a 'piss-up' is a drunken party or pub-crawl.

'Smeg' is a word that has only come into common usage as a swear-word since 1988 after it was popularised by the BBC science fiction sitcom Red Dwarf. Short for smegma, which is defined with delicacy as 'a sebaceous secretion, especially that under the prepuce', it is derived from the Greek for soap, and it is also known, less delicately, as 'knobcheese'.

General Insults

William the Conqueror's parents were not married, and before 1066 he was known as 'William the Bastard'. After 1066, the Anglo Saxons he conquered would probably still have called him 'William the Bastard' for quite different reasons. One theory of the etymology of this insult says that it comes from the French word 'bast' as in 'fils de bast' meaning son of the packsaddle, which compares with the British English usage of someone being 'born the wrong side of the blanket' or being 'the son of a gun' (as in a 'shotgun wedding'). Another connects it with the Old Frisian for marriage, and Old English for bind. Brits will say that something like the weather, or a sports result is 'a complete bastard' as well as calling someone, usually male, a bastard if they have been particularly unpleasant. The word is sometimes gentrified to 'Bar Steward', Australians use the word bastard as a term of affection.

The poet Robert Graves wrote a very odd little book called Lars Porsena, or The Future of Swearing and Improper Language. Writing in the 1920s, he claimed that there was an definite class difference in the use of the words 'bastard' and 'bugger'. He claimed that in the working class, people might well be sensitive about illegitimacy, but were often unfamiliar with homosexuality, and so bastard was a mortal insult and bugger was a much milder term. The severity was reversed in the upper classes, who had nice traceable bloodlines and a boarding-school education. He claimed that bugger was a much more serious insult in upper-class circles, where people were more likely to believe it.

Although 'bitch' and 'bastard' have different meanings, their usage is very similar, for, although a bitch is a female dog of any age, the word 'bitch' is often used as a female form of 'bastard'. It's used to describe someone who is vitriolic or scheming (like Joan Collins in Dynasty); in prison, it indicates a 'subordinate', often used in relationships about power; it's frequently used as a derogatory term to describe women - as in the dance track by the Prodigy, 'Smack my Bitch Up'. One familiar American usage is to call someone a 'son of a bitch'; Jack Nicholson is reported as saying that his mother was able to call him a son of a bitch with no detectable irony. Finally, to 'bitch about something' is to complain or whinge about it.

The word 'git' is connected with 'get' but in the sense of spawn or offspring, as in the old verb to beget, so your 'get' are your (probably illegitimate) offspring. In the northwest of England get is still used in the way that git is in the rest of the country. In the BBC sitcom Till Death Us Do Part, Alf Garnett used to refer his Liverpudlian son in law⁷ as a 'Scouse git'. 'Git' is only a very mild form of abuse (certainly in the UK anyway), and it can be used affectionately with people, calling someone a git as a real form of abuse is more likely to encourage them to laugh at you.

'Pillock' is another word which was revived in Till Death Us Do Part. Its origins are in the word 'pillicock', which is northern English slang for 'penis', and which compares with the shorter and more southern 'cock'. The earliest usage recorded in the OED describes someone getting their feet wet and saying: 'Mi pilkoc pisseth on mi schone' (schone' meaning shoes). Pillock is no longer considered obscene. British politician Mo Mowlem was filmed on TV in a shopping precinct during the 2001 general election campaign telling someone wearing an odd shop uniform that they looked 'a complete pillock'. Everyone smiled, possibly with relief that Ms Mowlem, who has a reputation for using 'short words', used one of the longer and more repeatable ones.

A term of abuse that is all-but completely lost on Americans is 'w****r', derived from the word 'w**k', to rhyme with 'tank', which is a term for masturbation. Often used to denote a stupid person, it has been heard in American shows such as Miami Vice and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, spoken by characters allegedly from London (cf 'tosser'). The adjective 'w***ered' is often used by Brits (usually Londoners or people who have lived in London for some time) to mean 'extremely drunk'.

Conclusion

This is a subject which fills books, and has a word all of its own: what you have been reading is a brief outline of English scatolinguistics. One of the things which becomes clear is that usage varies widely from country to country, and within countries. In one place a word may be a term of affection, in another a clear and direct term of abuse. And these words provide a potted social history of the speakers of the English Language. However, used appropriately and with panache, many people feel that these words actually add depth, colour and a sense of regional variation to the English language.

---

¹ Arse is not, unsurprisingly, recognised by Microsoft's US English Spell-checker.
² Of course, this is a fairly easy game to play: Federal University of Cape Kennedy and Sheffield Hallam Institute of Technology are a couple of tempting but apocryphal examples.
³ That pesky vowel shift again, perhaps.
⁴ Surprisingly, the word 'prick' when used as an insult does not come from slang for male genitalia but from farming equipment; the prick was a shaft of sharpened wood used to keep oxen in place. A person was said to be 'kicking against the prick' if they resisted authority even if it meant harming themself. In other words, being a 'prick' was being unduly rebellious.
⁵ Bizarrely, 'fukt' means humidity in mainstream Swedish. There is a sign 20k from Stockholm's main airport which says 'tid 13.25' or whatever time it is that you drive past, 'temp -10°' or however cold it is, and 'fukt 76%', which is a useful statistic to know about the people in the country you are visiting. You can also buy 'Fukt Creme' in some shops in Sweden, although (disappointingly) this is a hand cream and not a lubricant.
⁶ In the 1970s she was famously reported as telling reporters to 'Naff off'.
⁷ Played by Anthony Booth, father of Cherie Blair, wife of Prime Minister Tony Blair.

Why

Why does it crumble when i touch it.
Why does my joy hurt so much.
Why does Happy Ever After always end to be continued

Why do i have to smile when i want to weep.
Why do i feel when only hurt can be felt.
Why do i have to be strong for them when i have on strength for me

Why should i fight to be happy when surrender is so easy.
Why should i live when life is not worth living.
Why should i care when all i have to do is close my heart

Why, Oh Why, Oh Why.

There is only one reason and her name is love.
There is only one, she makes everything right.
There is only one who is not only worth dying for but worth living for as well.

there is only one and even that may soon be gone.

I call to say i love you
I call to say I hope you'll always be mine
I call to say that I am your and always will be
but the ringing phone is silent

I seek to hold you
I seek to comfort you
I seek to be comforted
But the ringing phone is silent

I need to say I miss you
I need to know your fine
I need to hear my love
But the ringing phone is silent

My love i miss you
My love i seek you
My love i'll never leave
But the ringing phone is silent

The Silence is eternal
The quiet shreaks with hurt
The pain flows with tears
But the ringing phone is silent

Is the silence rejection?
Is the silence hurt?
Or is the damned phone broken?
But the ringing phone is silent

To my sweetest love
My tender heart i give to thee

To my sweetest love
My battered soul i ask thee keep

To my sweetest love
My happiness is thine to sow and to reap

To my sweetest love
I ask of thee but a smile to hold and a kiss to bind
my love to thine and my future evermore

LONDON (AFP) - The biggest earthquake since 1984 rattled much of England early on Wednesday, causing minor damage, although no injuries were immediately reported.

The British Geological Survey said on its website that the tremors measured 5.3 on the Richter scale.

According to the BGS, the earthquake struck at 12:56 am (0056 GMT) some 125 miles north of London, close to the northeastern English shore near the town of Lincoln.

Lincolnshire Police, which covers the area near the epicentre of the quake, said they had received reports of some damage to homes, but there were no details as to the extent of the damage.

Meanwhile, a spokeswoman for Leicestershire constabulary, which covers Leicestershire county, south central England, told AFP that they had been "inundated with phone calls right throughout Leicestershire. ... It does seem to be widespread."

She said that there had been some reports of damage to chimneys, with bricks having fallen off, but said they had received no reports of injuries.

A spokeswoman for North West Ambulance Service said that she felt "the tremors here in our control room," while Merseyside Police and Merseyside Fire and Rescue Service, covering parts of northwest England, said they had received reports of tremors, but had no reports of any injuries.

Reports from the BBC and Sky News television carried witness statements saying that the tremors were felt at around 1:00 am, and lasted for between 10 and 15 seconds.

A student at Loughborough University in Leicestershire county north of London said that in his residence hall he also felt the quake, which moved his bed several inches.

An AFP correspondent in Ealing, west London, said that his apartment building "shook for 10-15 seconds. The whole sofa was shaking."

The British Geological Survey said it records around 200 earthquakes in Britain per year.

Earthquakes of this size occur around every 30 years on the mainland but are more common in offshore areas, it added.