My Story

[pic] www.woodstockproject.com Here is the tracklist and source list for my Woodstock set. Bear in mind that I have edited together stage announcements and performances from various sources to give the most complete "build" of this material currently possible. Multiple sources have varying sound qualities, varying levels of hiss ect. I have chosen not to de-hiss much of the material as my personal preference is "purist" and because of the extremely variant opinions about hiss reduction techniques

seconde moitié du xxe siècle. Durée | 40 minutes (approx.) | Genre | Rock psychédélique | Format | 33 tours | Producteur | George Martin | | | Chanson de l’album : Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band | With A Little Help From My Friends | Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds | Getting Better | Fixing A Hole | She's Leaving Home | Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite | Within You Without You | When I'm Sixty-Four | Lovely Rita | Good Morning Good Morning | Sgt. Pepper's

1 a) story 1--High and Lifted Up – by Mike Krath It was a windy day. The mailman barely made it to the front door. When the door opened, Mrs. Pennington said, "hello", but, before she had a real chance to say "thank you", the mail blew out of the mailman's hands, into the house and the front door slammed in his face. Mrs. Pennington ran to pick up the mail. "Oh my," she said. Tommy was watching the shutters open and then shut, open and then shut. b)-This story talks about a

ones told by my mother’s father, since after all he was the only one of my relatives who’d made the remarkable trip to America and has been old enough at the time to have anything to remember about it. How was the trip to America, you want to know? my grandfather would repeat, chuckling softly, when I interviewed him about his life. I couldn’t tell you, because I was in the toilet throwing up the whole time! But of course this self-deprecating joke, meant to suggest that there was no story to tell, was

thinking what happened this afternoon: Allison’s reaction, my attitude with this little girl. I wasn’t very well. I climbed the stairs, one by one. Once in my room, I took my Teddy bear in my arms. I began to cry softly and then really. I felt the best cookie in the world, my mom realized that I did not well and needed comfort. She is a wonderful mum. She came to me and took me in her arms, dried my tears. My mum asked me “What’s happened, my honey?” I didn’t answered .I thought about Allison’s word

We were both young, when I first saw you. I close my eyes and the flashback starts- I'm standing there, on a balcony in summer air. I see the lights; see the party, the ball gowns. I see you make your way through the crowd- You say hello, little did I know... That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles- And my daddy said "stay away from Juliet"- And I was crying on the staircase- begging you please don't go... And I said... Romeo take me somewhere, we can be alone. I'll be waiting;

This is the story of an old man who fought against the jim crow laws and today , he is telling his grandson Mike the story of his battle against racism . Washington booker : Mikeeeeeeeeeee !! Comeeeeee my boyyy !! Mike : Yes grandfatherrrrrrrrrrrr !! Im here !! W.b : Boy you start to grow up , I think its time for you to know some stuff about your old grandfather . Im gonna tell you a story about my childhood . Mike : yes daddyyyyyyyyyy , what is the story about ? W.b:

This story takes place in Silvermoon city. It is situated in a magic world that has any link with the real world. It represents the perfect world where everyone is equal and where everyone looks the same. Hi, I am survivor R2D2 and I am going to narrate you my story: One day, during the class of philosophy, our teacher was teaching to us the meaning of happiness. He told us that to be all the same, having blue eyes and blond hair showed that we were pure and peaceful. On my way back home

| |A |When I was at university, I did not have much money. I could not afford expensive things like a camera. But I did have one thing which was valuable. It was| |  |a gold watch, which was a gift from my parents for my twenty-fifth birthday. | |B |At the end of the first year, I was wondering what I was going to do during the summer holidays. Then I received a letter from Peter

LOVE STORY What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the Beatles. And me. Once, when she specifically lumped me with those musical types, I asked her what the order was, and she replied, smiling, "Alphabetical". At the time I smiled too. But now I sit and wonder whether she was listing me by my first name - in which case I would trail Mozart - or by my last name, in which case I would edge in there between