Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Harry Burns: You realize of course that we could never be friends.

Sally Albright: Why not?

Harry Burns: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

Sally Albright: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.

Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.

Harry Burns: You only think you do.

Sally Albright: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?

Harry Burns: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.

Sally: They do not!
Harry: Do to.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do to.
Sally: How do you know?

Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.

Sally: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?

Harry: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.

Sally: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.

Harry: I guess not.

Sally: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.
==================================
 ===========================
Harry Burns: You take someone to the airport, its clearly the beginning of the relationship. Thats why I have never taken anyone to the airport at the beginning of a relationship.

Sally Albright: Why?

Harry Burns: Because eventually things move on and you dont take someone to the airport and I never wanted anyone to say to me, How come you never take me to the airport anymore?

Sally Albright: Its amazing. You look like a normal person but actually you are the angel of death.
==================================
 ============================

Harry Burns: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.

Sally Albright: Which one am I?

Harry Burns: You're the worst kind. You're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.
==================================
 ============================

Harry: Shel? Sheldon? No. You did not have great sex with Sheldon.

Sally: I did too.

Harry: No. A Sheldon can do your income taxes. If you need a root canal, Sheldon's your man. But humping and pumping are not Sheldon's strong suits. It's the name. Do it to me, Sheldon. You're an animal, Sheldon. Ride me, big Sheldon. It doesn't work.
==================================
 =============================

Sally: Amanda mentioned you had a dark side.

Harry: That's what drew her to me.

Sally: Your dark side?

Harry: Sure. Why? Don't you have a dark side? I know, you're probably one of those cheerful people who dot their "i's" with little hearts.

Sally: I have just as much of a dark side as the next person.

Harry: Oh, really? When I buy a new book, I read the last page first. That way, in case I die before I finish, I know how it ends. That, my friend, is a dark side.
==================================
 =============================

Harry: Would you like to have dinner? ...Just friends.

Sally: I thought you didn't believe men and women could be friends.

Harry: When did I say that?

Sally: On the ride to New York.

Harry: No, no, no, I never said that. ...Yes, that's right, they can't be friends. Unless both of them are
involved with other people, then they can. ...This is an amendment to the earlier rule. If the two people are in relationships, the pressure of possible involvement is lifted. ...That doesn't work either, because what happens then is, the person you're involved with can't understand why you need to be friends with the person you're just friends with. Like it means something is missing from the relationship and why do you have to go outside to get it? And when you say "No, no, no it's not true, nothing is missing from the relationship," the per

The summer of ’06, so many ‘happy days’,
Tucker, Caz and Kelly, now off to lands far away.
More leaving parties than I can remember,
Thank fuck they didn’t wait until December!

The birth of the “scuttle”, spread like a disease,
With so many scuttlers, so eager to please!
The photos say it all, so much laughter and fun,
If only they knew, it was up the wrong ‘un!

Nothing quite beats the weekend boozing at Ben Nevis,
When Peem tried to feel up everyone’s crevice!
But he struck gold with Face, whose bad chat was blunt,
Calling Gemma a whore, a me a fat, bald c*nt!

At every opportunity, Moose and Moir the fighting mates,
Rolling around with no tops on, they’re the wrong side of straight.
And Moir with red wine, an absolute disgrace,
Looked like Pete Doherty with that drunken face!

And then there’s McCoy, always out with cock and balls,
Or to rephrase that ‘just balls’, the other is too small.
And so many people dancing, helped by plenty vodka and gin,
Though perhaps more embarrassing, was ‘Paris to Berlin’!

All the other Summer parties, BBQs and golf club drinking,
With a visit from Shetland, and his bird who was stinking.
I’m not being nasty, she actually urinated on the floor,
I say bring back Face, she would call her a whore!

As the summer is closing, a time to think what has past,
Our time spent with friends, when time goes so fast.
With laughter and tears, with emotion we believe,
When feelings are so strong, they never did leave.

So I raise a glass, to absent friends who aren’t here.
And I raise a glass, to my friends who are near.
The Summer of 2006, it was yours, it was mine.
The Summer of 2006.........the best of times.