The Special Category

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An optional explanation about the anagram in green, the subject is in black, the anagram is in red.

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As sung by Ms Sarah Brightman and Elaine Page in the musical based on Evita Peron's life
Lyrics: Sir Tim Miles Rice
Music: Baron Andrew Lloyd Webber

It won't be easy, you'll think it strange
When I try to explain how I feel
That I still need your love after all that I've done

You won't believe me
All you will see is a girl you once knew
Although she's dressed up to the nines
At sixes and sevens with you

I had to let it happen, I had to change
Couldn't stay all my life down at heel
Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun

So I chose freedom
Running around, trying everything new
But nothing impressed me at all
I never expected it too

Don't cry for me Argentina
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days
My mad existence
I kept my promise
Don't keep your distance

And as for fortune, and as for fame
I never invited them in
Though it seemed to the world they were all I desired

They are illusions
They are not the solutions they promised to be
The answer was here all the time
I love you and hope you love me

Don't cry for me Argentina
The truth is I never left you
All through my wild days
My mad existence
I kept my promise
Don't keep your distance

Have I said too much?
There's nothing more I can think of to say to you.
But all you have to do is look at me to know
That every word is true


It won't be Diego, or the "Hand of God"
Who wins the World Cup title tomorrow
Die deutsche Mannschaft will annihilate you

No one believed you're the Messi-ah
You mustn't destroy the team you loved
We were alive, dominant victors
Merely winning the semi seven to one (OTT!)

I had to let Khedira play, I extolled my team
Hummels, Thom Muller, Mesut the little Turk. I love
Lurking on the bench, avoiding the tacky telly

I chose Lahm as captain
Short like you, trying everything overt and new
Lithe Neuer too impressed in goal, but
Truth is we never expected you to run

Don't score Messi for Argentina
Truth is you've hated me, despite
My fashionably long hair and
The sexy dark shirts
I promise you a lovely win
Please keep your distance (I bite!)

And as for football and as for infamy
I never teetered
I thought when we won the test to the death

Poxy Herr Klinsmann
Could only manage third in South Africa
The secret deed was getting Klose in again
I love to win and hope you love us

Don't score Messi for Argentina
Truth is you've hated me, despite
My fashionably long hair
The sexy blue shirts
I promised our fans
Please keep your distance

Yet is that torment really fair?
You would always be my special friend
If you failed to net the winning goal
Why I'd truly adore you my bonny little man!

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From 'Evita'

Oh what a circus, oh what a show
Argentina has gone to town
Over the death of an actress called Eva Peron
We've all gone crazy
Mourning all day and mourning all night
Falling over ourselves to get all of the misery right

Oh what an exit, that's how to go
When they're ringing your curtain down
Demand to be buried like Eva Peron
It's quite a sunset
And good for the country in a roundabout way
We've made the front pages of all the world's papers today

But who is this Santa Evita?
Why all this howling, hysterical sorrow?
What kind of goddess has lived among us?
How will we ever get by without her?

She had her moments, she had some style
The best show in town was the crowd
Outside the Casa Rosada crying, "Eva Peron"
But that's all gone now
As soon as the smoke from the funeral clears
We're all gonna see and how, she did nothing for years


Salve regina mater misericordiae
Vita dulcedo et spes nostra
Salve salve regina
Ad te clamamus exules filii Eva
Ad te suspiramus gementes et flentes
O clemens o pia

You let down your people Evita
You were supposed to have been immortal
That's all they wanted, not much to ask for
But in the end you could not deliver

Sing you fools, but you got it wrong
Enjoy your prayers because you haven't got long
Your queen is dead, your king is through
And she's not coming back to you

Show business kept us all alive
Since seventeen October 1945
But the star has gone, the glamour's worn thin
That's a pretty bad state for a state to be in

Instead of government we had a stage
Instead of ideas, a prima donna's rage
Instead of help we were given a crowd
She didn't say much, but she said it loud

Sing you fools, but you got it wrong
Enjoy your prayers because you haven't got long
Your queen is dead, your king is through
She's not coming back to you

Salve regina mater misericordiae
Vita dulcedo et spes nostra
Salve salve regina Peron
Ad te clamamus exules filii Eva
Ad te suspiramus gementes et flentes
O clemens o pia

Don't cry for me Argentina
For I am ordinary, unimportant
And undeserving of such attention
Unless we all are, I think we all are
So share my glory, so share my coffin
So share my glory, so share my coffin

It's our funeral too

Aria (by various desolate Argentines)

Oh, what a circus, oh what a show,
Argentina has come to town,
But in the Grand Football Final they've let themselves down,
The fans are mourning,
Mourning their dreams and counting the cost,
Mourning as hard as can be, a trophy their heroes have lost

Oh, what an exit, it's not the way
The script was supposed to have gone,
Now they're dead and buried like Eva Peron,
It's quite a blunder
And sad for the country in so many ways,
For in the newspapers today, the Germans
get all of the praise!

So, who are these German supremos?
Why all the syrupy adulation?
They are not gods, they are not immortal,
But, gee, that goal was something quite special...

They had sleek Messi, he had some style,
And many folk voyaged for miles
To the Estadio Maracana to cheer for their side,
But they've gone home now,
Off to their shanties, to their hidey-holes,
Reflecting how it would've been, if Messi had just scored that goal...


Viva our squad; viva our coach, Sabella!
Viva Presidente Cristina!
Viva our proud Argentina!
This was but a hiccup, we are not beaten yet,
We'll rise like a phoenix, from the ashes
And we'll soon have the World Cup again!

You blew your chance team Argentina
You missed two easy goals Higuain and Messi,
One goal would do it, not much to ask for,
But sad to say you could not deliver.

[Female Presidente Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner:]
Come sing our usual victory songs,
So much was good, gee it wasn't all wrong,
We've lost a fight but not the war
And we'll be bigger than we were before!

Those Germans do not always thrive
They proved it May 1945
They gave up then, they could again,
Some day we'll cause them football pain!

Come sing our usual victory songs
Unlike Brasil we've got a gong
A silver's good, we're runners-up,
True gold awaits us at the next World Cup!

Sing of success, sing of love
A song of glory to God above,
I'll lead us to such greatness soon,
To find success we must seek the moon...

So, don't cry for team Argentina,
Judge it an upset, not a disaster,
And undeserving of your deep sorrow,
Some day you'll witness our full emergence,
For soon you'll see us, win The Malvinas
Yes, soon you'll see us, in The Malvinas.

[Voices of UK]
Yeah, ok. In your dreams lady!

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Rolling Stone magazine's list of the one-hundred greatest guitarists of all time:

1. Jimi Hendrix
2. Duane Allman
3. B.B. King
4. Eric Clapton
5. Robert Johnson
6. Chuck Berry
7. Stevie Ray Vaughan
8. Ry Cooder
9. Jimmy Page
10 Keith Richards
11. Kirk Hammett
12. Kurt Cobain
13. Jerry Garcia
14. Jeff Beck
15. Carlos Santana
16. Johnny Ramone
17. Jack White
18. John Frusciante
19. Richard Thompson
20. James Burton
21. George Harrison
22. Mike Bloomfield
23. Warren Haynes
24. David Evans (The Edge)
25. Freddy King
26. Tom Morello
27. Mark Knopfler
28. Stephen Stills
29. Ron Asheton
30. Buddy Guy
31. Dick Dale
32. John Cipollina
33/34. Lee Ranaldo/Thurston Moore
35. John Fahey
36. Steve Cropper
37. Bo Diddley
38. Peter Green
39. Brian May
40. John Fogerty
41. Clarence White
42. Robert Fripp
43. Eddie Hazel
44. Scotty Moore
45. Frank Zappa
46. Les Paul
47. T-Bone Walker
48. Joe Perry
49. John McLaughlin
50. Pete Townshend
51. Paul Kossoff
52. Lou Reed
53. Mickey Baker
54. Jorma Kaukonen
55. Ritchie Blackmore
56. Tom Verlaine
57. Roy Buchanan
58. Dickey Betts
59 & 60. Jonny Greenwood, Ed O'Brien
61. Ike Turner
62. Zoot Horn Rollo
63. Danny Gatton
64. Mick Ronson
65. Hubert Sumlin
66. Vernon Reid
67. Link Wray
68. Jerry Miller
69. Steve Howe
70. Eddie Van Halen
71. Lightnin' Hopkins
72. Joni Mitchell.
73. Trey Anastasio
74. Johnny Winter
75. Adam Jones
76. Ali Farka Toure
77. Henry Vestine
78. Robbie Robertson
79. Cliff Gallup
80. Robert Quine
81. Derek Trucks
82. David Gilmour
83. Neil Young
84. Eddie Cochran
85. Randy Rhoads
86. Tony Iommi
87. Joan Jett
88. Dave Davies
89. Dennes Dale Boon
90. Glen Buxton
91. Robby Krieger
92/93. Fred "Sonic" Smith/Wayne Kramer
94. Bert Jansch
95. Kevin Shields
96. Angus Young
97. Robert Randolph
98. Leigh Stephens
99. Greg Ginn
100. Kim Thayil

1. Justly No. One.
2. King on slide
3. Major blues legend
4. Nickname: God!
5. Soul sold to the Devil
6. Johnny B. Goode
7. Hendrix proxy
8. Very versatile
9. Zeppelin
10. Jagger's junkie
11. Enter Metallica thrash
12. Nirvana
13. Skunk-joint-jammer
14. Yardbird
15. Jingo!
16. Ersatz punk rocker
17. White Stripe jerk
18. Red Hot Chili Pepper
19. Beardy folky
20. Fender Tele man
21. Hare Krishna junior Beatle
22. Kosher twelve-bar jew
23. Allman
24. Trademark? Only effects pedals.
25. Going down!
26. Rage Against The Machine
27. Dire droning Northerner
28. CSN
29. Stooge jerk
30. Home: Chicago
31. Surfer
32. Quicksilver Messenger
33/34. Sonic Youth
35. Folk hero
36. Mr Green Onions
37. *That* beat!
38. Early Mac
39. Majesty, royalty! Sorry? Ranking just THIRTY-NINE???!!! You're joking!
40. C.C.R.
41. Byrd
42. Crimson king
43. He oozed funk
44. Elvis sidekick
45. Mother of Invention
46. Gibson guitar named after him.
47. Steaked his claim.
48. Aerosmith
49. Very fast
50. Who?
51. Free
52. Enjoy an NY Wild Side walk
53. Jobbing hired hand
54. Hot Tuna jams
55. Purple
56. Harsh, tinny (Television)
57. Country
58. Allman
59/60. Jarring in Radiohead
61. Mr Tina
62. Beefheart hobo
63. Terminal angst...RIP.
64. Under-rated Jean Genie
65. Blues
66. Living Colour
67. Rumble
68. Moby Grape
69. Londoner joins Yes
70. Two-hand tap
71. Blues
72. Thorny canuck
73. Phish
74. Rank No. Two, I reckon.
75. Tool
76. African
77. Canned Heat
78. The Band
79. Blue Cap
80. Not heard of him
81. Boring blues
82. Joined Pink Floyd
83. Hippy
84. C'mon Everybody!
85. Fret-shredder
86. Sabbath metal
87. Runaway
88. Kink brother
89. Minuteman
90. Alice Cooper novelty horror
91. Door
92/93. Detroit rock
94. Folk
95. My Bloody Valentine
96. Horizontal AC/DC joker
97. On pedal steel
98. Remember Blue Cheer? No, nor me.
99. Black Flag
100. Soundgarden

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[The constraint: Each of the 7 couplets is marked with the day in which it takes place (*Su*nday, *Mo*nday, *Tu*esday etc.):]

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Stages In A Week-Long Romance

Such bosom-aches I felt the day I met her,
But then, I could not gather how I feel;
My daydreams in the second one fared better:
More passionate and rather more surreal;
The third came with the notion that no guy
Must ever have revered a mistress more,
While I soared to some monumental highs
Beneath her flaring goodness on day four;
Then, on day five, some things did not age well:
Those small compulsions or those loathsome tics...
From harmless bliss, it turned to stressful hell
Around the final hours of day six.
So, as it has to happen to all men,
Day seven comes, and I'm alone again.

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Ah, there's no method in my madness, no craft, no guile
No expertise, no self assuring smile
No wizardry or witchcraft, no crass deceit
No dark conspiracies, I stand on my own two feet...
I'm coming through just like Jack Ruby, hey, yeah

And I'm ragged around the edges but I got control
There's no way around it and I got control
I reach out for my program, still got control
Straight down to business, who needs control...
I've got panache just like Jack Ruby

I don't beg forgiveness, I don't beg at all
And I beg to differ 'cos I got the ball
There was no invitation, you're not my type
And what's gone, it ain't worth having, kiss it all goodbye...
Right on the money just like Jack Ruby, yeah, yeah

G.W. JR.

Late into the nineties, came one tricky man
To con society with one deftly cunning plan:
George used his name that did mean something many years ago
To get right to the very top and make a bit of dough...
No, I'll never get G.W. Jr.

George tried his best to spark the public's curiosity
But only dealt in idiotic simplicity
Such crappy jokes turned out to be hard to ignore -
But like victims of abuse, they asked for an encore...
So I can't understand G.W. Jr.

But as that annoying bozo rose and took the floor
As a proxy of one strong boss who only wanted war,
This second film had gone beyond only 'harrowing'.
Why make Jar Jar deliver such a crucial thing?
Your horrid films stink, George Walton Lucas Jr.!