Typikon (or typicon, pl. typica; Greek: Τυπικόν , "that of the prescribed form"; Slavonic: Тvпико́нъ Typikonə or уставъ, ustavə) is a liturgical book which contains instructions about the order of the Byzantine Rite office and variable hymns of the Divine Liturgy.
The ancient and medieval cathedral rite of Constantinople, called the "asmatikē akolouthia" ("sung services"), is not well preserved and the earliest surviving manuscript dates from the middle of the eighth century. This rite reached its climax in the Typicon of the Great Church (Agia Sophia) which was used in only two places, its eponymous cathedral and in the Basilica of Saint Demetrios in Thessalonica; in the latter it survived until the Ottoman conquest and most of what is known of it comes from descriptions in the writings of Saint Symeon of Thessalonica.
Typica arose within the monastic movements of the early Christian era to regulate life in monasteries and several surviving typica from Constantinople, such as those of the Pantokrator monastery and the Kecharitomene nunnery, give us an insight into ancient Byzantine monastic life and habits. However, it is the typicon of the Holy Lavra of Saint Sabbas the Sanctified near Jerusalem that came to be synthesized with the above-mentioned cathedral rite and whose name is borne by the typicon in use today by the Byzantine Rite.
I. Mr. Money
[Miss Mediocraty:]
"Hey there sweetie. Don't I know you? I swear I recognize your face...
and those beautiful eyes... You know, they say the eyes are the
doorway to ones soul... There's a smile. A little shy, aren't we? Hey,
do you wanna get out of here
[Mr. Money:]
Hey Miss Mediocrity, gee, I'm sorry
You've seen me on TV, I'm Mr. Money
Now you want someone to hold you
And call when you're in town
Someone to calm you and confirm you
Well, I'm here...
...to let you down
'Cause outside these sexy cars
And far from my trendy bars
Behind these smiles...
[Miss Mediocraty:]
"...maybe go someplace..."
[Mr. Money:]
...And sunscreen...
[Miss Mediocraty:]
"...more quiet, where we could... you know... talk!"
[Mr. Money:]
...And "Live the Dream!"s...
[Miss Mediocraty:]
"...and get to know each other..."
[Mr. Money:]
I am cold!
[Miss Mediocraty:]
"...no?"
[Mr. Money:]
And mean!
[Miss Mediocraty:]
"How about a ride in that Bentley up front? It's yours isn't it? I'll
be a good girl, I promise!
...or bad...
...whatever you like!"
[Mr. Money:]
Daily Finance - that's me in the Armani
Three Mercedes 350, two Ferraris
I Could have bought a Third World country
With the riches that I've spent
But hey
All modern economics claim that I deserved
Every single cent
And the one time I'm the lesser half
Is when we split the tab
So here's to Friends, Family and Liberty, Genuinity, here's to
Happiness, Success, Good Press, No Stress...
But most of all...
Here's to Me!
Here's to Me!
Here's to Me!
There will be nothing left...
So...
Here's to Me! ([Dea Pecuniae:] Oh baby, baby)
Here's to Me! ([Dea Pecuniae:] I'll take care of you)
Here's to Me!
There will be nothing left...
Nothing left...
...for you
[Dea Pecuniae:]
"If you're looking for fulfillment
A Kingdom and a Crown
A Paradise of Free Rides
I am here...
...to let you down
I'll get you the sexy cars
And a taste of divinity
A glimpse of the Stars
Immortality
But then Vanity
Will leave you dried and scarred
([Mr. Money:] That's right, oh, give it to me!)
Here's to Me! ([Mr. Money:] Oh baby, baby)
Here's to Me! ([Mr. Money:] You'll take care of me)
Here's to Me!
To me"
[II. Permanere]
[Mr. Money:]
But then when it's silent
And the lights from the bars go down
I need comforting
'Cause somewhere there deep inside
Feelings of loss arise
And I hate to lose!
[III: I Raise My Glass]
They say it's lonely at the top
Then I'm as lonely as can be
But I am not too sorry
You see, I've chosen this company
I got myself a winning team
It's Me, Myself and I
You bet it's lonely at the top old friends
And I'm here today to tell you suckers why!
(Dea Pecuniae!)
Dea Pecuniae
Money rules...
They claim that I get paid for my big Responsibility
But hey, you know...
That is just a lame excuse
For my egocentricity
They say that we're really the same you and I
And I truly do agree
You see
Just like me
You live for me
Until the day you die
And so I raise my glass to all of you who really believe that I get
paid for my big responsibility
To all of you who suck it up and pay my debts
To all of you who think that my lifestyle does not affect the environment
Or the poverty
Well, maybe not more than marginally anyway
Good for you!
And you know what?
Here's to you...
And I raise my glass, to those of you who give their piece of the cake
for free, for me to throw in the face of democracy
For those who help making solidarity ideologically untrendy
And charity individualistically idiotic, unsmart and characteristically bendy
I salute thee you poor bastards 'cause you all nod while I sit at your table
So let's raise our glasses one last time, to give you all the greatest
recognition and credit of all times - cause after all, let's face it;
that's the only "thank you" you will ever get
So come on now - raise your glasses!
Here's to YOU
There will be nothing left - no!
Nothing left...