Pfft more of my joyous voice!

Out of utter boredom


http://www.zshare.net/audio/9367842eb2fd9d/

that link leads to my voice :)

Here’s a transcript of what I’m saying, seeing as people tend not to know what I’m saying...

"Er, hi, well I’m like, bored and it’s early in the morning.
So...I’ve decided I’m gonna like, read a poem to ye.
Basically, the poem is called Dulce Et Decorum Est and it’s by Wilfred Owen...
Who was a famous...er... war poet from the first world war...
And reyt... here goes:

’Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! -- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under I green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.’

So, er yeah, I kinda screwed up a few minutes then, so yeah, er oh well..
There’s nowt much left to say..so yeah bye"