Slippery people (2 Viewers)

Doesn’t sound like these slippery people are gonna see you through. :sneaky:

The Talking Heads got it from Shakespeare:

. . . . Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Caesar and commands
The empire of the sea. Our slippery people,
Whose love is never linked to the deserver
Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
Pompey the Great and all his dignities
Upon his son, who—high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life—stands up
For the main soldier, whose quality, going on,
The sides o’ th’ world may danger. Much is breeding
Which, like the courser’s hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent’s poison.
 
The Talking Heads got it from Shakespeare:

. . . . Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Caesar and commands
The empire of the sea. Our slippery people,
Whose love is never linked to the deserver
Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
Pompey the Great and all his dignities
Upon his son, who—high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life—stands up
For the main soldier, whose quality, going on,
The sides o’ th’ world may danger. Much is breeding
Which, like the courser’s hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent’s poison.
There, art though not happy?

Sorry, wrong Shakespeare play. Lord Capulet has been living under my roof for the last couple months.
 
The Talking Heads got it from Shakespeare:

. . . . Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Caesar and commands
The empire of the sea. Our slippery people,
Whose love is never linked to the deserver
Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
Pompey the Great and all his dignities
Upon his son, who—high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life—stands up
For the main soldier, whose quality, going on,
The sides o’ th’ world may danger. Much is breeding
Which, like the courser’s hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent’s poison.
I think it was actually Biggus Dickus
 
The Talking Heads got it from Shakespeare:

. . . . Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Caesar and commands
The empire of the sea. Our slippery people,
Whose love is never linked to the deserver
Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
Pompey the Great and all his dignities
Upon his son, who—high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life—stands up
For the main soldier, whose quality, going on,
The sides o’ th’ world may danger. Much is breeding
Which, like the courser’s hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent’s poison.
I haven’t listened to that album, apparently.
 
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