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Thanksgiving Day is a holiday celebrated primarily in the United States and Canada. Thanksgiving is celebrated each year on the second Monday of October in Canada and on the fourth Thursday of November in the United States. Because of the longstanding traditions of the holiday, the celebration often extends to the weekend that falls closest to the day it is celebrated. Several other places around the world observe similar celebrations. Historically, Thanksgiving had roots in religious and cultural tradition. Today, Thanksgiving is primarily celebrated as a secular holiday.
Prayers of thanks to God and special thanksgiving ceremonies are common among almost all religions after harvests and at other times. The holiday's history in North America is rooted in English traditions dating from the Protestant Reformation. It also has aspects of a harvest festival, even though the harvest in New England occurs well before the late-November date of the holiday
John William "Johnny" Carson (October 23, 1925 – January 23, 2005) was an American television host and comedian, known for thirty years as host of The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson (1962–1992). Carson received six Emmy Awards, the Governor Award, and a 1985 Peabody Award. He was inducted into the Television Academy Hall of Fame in 1987. Johnny Carson was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1992 and received a Kennedy Center Honor in 1993.
Although his show was already successful by the end of the 1960s, during the 1970s Carson became an American icon and remained so until his retirement in 1992. He adopted a casual, conversational approach with extensive interaction with guests, an approach pioneered by Arthur Godfrey and previous Tonight Show hosts Steve Allen and Jack Paar. Late night hosts David Letterman, Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien, Craig Ferguson, and Jimmy Fallon have all cited Carson's influence on their late-night talk shows, which resemble his in format and tone.
Carson was born in Corning, Iowa, in the year 1925, to Homer Lloyd "Kit" Carson, a power company manager, and Ruth Hook Carson, who was of Irish descent. He grew up in the nearby towns of Avoca, Clarinda, and Red Oak in southwest Iowa before moving to Norfolk, Nebraska, at the age of eight. At the age of twelve, Carson found a book on magic at a friend's house and immediately purchased a mail-order magician's kit. He debuted as "The Great Carsoni" at fourteen and was paid $3; many other performances at local picnics and country fairs followed.
Carl Hilding "Doc" Severinsen (born July 7, 1927) is an American pop and jazz trumpeter. He is best known for leading the NBC Orchestra on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.
Severinsen was born in Arlington, Oregon, the son of Minnie Mae (1897–1998) and Carl Severinsen (1898–1972), a dentist. Nicknamed "Little Doc" after his father, he originally wanted to play the trombone, which he discovered at neighbor Art Fletcher's home, but the senior Severinsen, a gifted amateur violinist, urged him to study that instrument instead. The younger Severinsen insisted on the trombone, but had to settle for the only horn available in Arlington's small music store, a trumpet. A week later, with the help of his father and a manual of instructions, the seven-year-old was good enough to be invited to join the high school band.
At the age of twelve, Severinsen won the Music Educator's National Contest. While still in high school, he was hired to go on the road with the Ted Fio Rito Orchestra. However, his stay with the group was cut short by the World War II draft. After serving in the U.S. Army, Severinsen made his broadcasting debut playing live popular music on KODL radio in The Dalles, Oregon.
I see no way out.
I feel a closing in.
Living this way, I won't live this way.
Its no way to live.
I am not grateful.
I am hateful.
I see stupid things,
So I say stupid things.
One thing I know I want to go
Where my heart can't hurt no more.
I am not grateful.
I am hateful.
I am not grateful.
Lord every year we gather here
To eat around this table
Give us the strength to stomach as much
As fast as we are able
Bless this food to our use
Though
communication's useless
Don't let me drink too much wine
Lord you know how I get ruthless
Let us somehow get through this meal
Without that bad old feeling
With history and memory
And home cooking we're dealing
Remind us that we are all grown up
Adults, no longer children
Now it's our kids that spill the milk
And our turn to want to kill them
I look around and recognize
A sister and a brother
We rarely see our parents now
We hardly see each other
On this auspicious occasion
This special family dinner
If I argue with a loved one, Lord
Please make me... the winner
All this food looks and smells so good
But I can hardly taste it
The sense of something has been lost
There's no way to replace it
After the meal, switch on the game
There's just a few more seconds
But I'm so tired, I need a nap
The guest bedroom bed beckons
I fall asleep, I have a dream
In it is the family
Nothing bad has happened yet
And everyone is happy
Mother and Father, both still young
And naturally they love us
We're all lying on a lawn at night
Watching the stars above us
Lord every year we gather here
To eat around this table
Give us the strength to stomach as much
We gather together to ask the lord's blessing
For turkey and dressing and cranberry sauce.
It was slightly distressing but now we're convalescing
So sing praises to his name and forget not to floss.
Our nearest and dearest we don't want confessing
It's sort of depressing to have them so near.
Our feelings supressing for lightly acquiescing
And perfectly professing we're glad they were here.
We gathered together and got the lord's blessing
Of course we're just guessing 'cause how can you tell?
Our stomach's are bloating
Our kidneys nearly floating
We stood in a long line waitin' for the door be unlocked
Out in the cold wind, ?round the razor wire fenced in cell block
Young mamas with babies, sisters and other kinds of kin
At Tallulah State Prison on Thanksgiving Day
We?re waiting to get in
You gotta get here early
It don?t matter how many miles you drove
They make you wait for hours, jailers always move slow
They run names, check numbers
Gravel faced guards they don?t smile
Grammy and me in line, silently waitin' single file
Thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families
Road weary pilgrims who show up faithfully
Sometimes love ain?t easy, sometimes love ain?t free
My Grammy looks so old now
Her hair is soft and white like the snow
And her hands tremble
When they frisk her from her head to her toes
They make her take her winter coat off
Then they frisk her again
When they?re done she wipes their touch off her dress
Stands tall and heads in
It's thanksgiving at the prison, surrounded by families
Road weary pilgrims who show up faithfully
Even though it ain?t easy, even though it ain?t free
------------
Somehow I find myself far out of line
from the ones I had drawn
Wasn't the best of paths, you could attest to that,
but I'm keeping on.
Would our paths cross if every great loss
had turned out our gain?
Would our paths cross if the pain it had cost us
was paid in vain?
There was no pot of gold, hardly a rainbow
lighting my way
But I will be true to the red, black and blues
that colored those days.
I owe my soul to each fork in the road,
each misleading sign.
'Cause even in solitude, no bitter attitude
can dissolve my sweetest find
The last time that I held you was
The gate at JFKI could not break the undertow
It would not let me stay
For you this is Thanksgiving
For me a working day
And I will lie awake tonight
And dream my life away The letters that you send here
You don't know what they bring
I only have to see your hand
My senses wing
Today may be Thanksgiving
For me no bells will ring
And I miss you more than I thought I Could miss any living thing And through each November as
I feel the summer die
I pull my coat around me hard
And will myself to fly
But there is no Thanksgiving
I know the winter's here
I'll lock the door and build a fire
[Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar]
Welcome to the story of my life, Miseducation of Kendrick
Stressin', Hennessy shots, throw 'em back like it's vintage
Wondering "can I live?" Where is the generosity
Something just gotta give, tryna stay positive
My mode is to be a mogul
Searching for a dollar without compromising my vocals
Really I'm just a noble
Kid from the west side of Compton
My cousins was selling crack, while I played Sonic
You say that you grinding, you niggas is full of shit
... And might need a Heimlich
Maneuver to throw up what you consume
My shine is bright enough to make a dead flower bloom
In a room full of curtains
I'm for certain that I'm certainly popping a pistol verbally
And never will I get shot, ya aim is all fucked up
As if a Sidekick dropped
I'm nice wit it, bro-bro
My peeps depending on me, we be where the stove go
Let's eat
[Verse 2: Wrekonize of iMayday! ]
British (?) lay 'em down, thanks for the fuckin' bank
William Wallace Malatov blonde shank to sprank
You cold in the D well I'm like Frank and Dank
But when the whiskey's all free ima break the tank
I speak an amazing maze
To make a mason maybe need a matron
Hey, my sonics bless ya drums like a patron saint
In Section 80 they all talking like you reppin crazy
Blood Type O positively, yeah my record's rabies
[Verse 3: Bernz of! MAYDAY! ]
"Been there, done that," ain't got the scars to match
Beware, these boys shoot flares and pull masks
Got gas, spread the mustard on the custard
Vanilla muthafuckers up and droppin' by the numbers
She jackin' up my lumber, I ain't even say I love her
Piss blood on these bitches tryna keep me ground under
Hunger games with lames, now I drive in my own lane
Ever since supporters started tatting the frames, MAYDAY
[Verse 4: Chief of Blood Type]
YEAH... yo
So many try to Dr. Jekyll and hide
And try to cover the side
That I could show you in pride
They try smoking the line, then try sniffin' the joint
If rap is about the money these niggas missin' the point
I can't, stand bias from people who never stand by us
I got a feeling for killing innocent stand-byers
I give a fuck if we could float ya boat
It's Blood Type, nigga cut ya throat
I'm done, BAH... Chiefer
[Verse 5]
I said be grateful and give some thanks
And he said "man, for what?"
I been outta my luck cuz I been stuck
And plus I'm broke as fuck
So shut up and pack it up or take it elsewhere
Get a nigga off this welfare, with some healthcare
Can you help there?
He thought he deserved and had the nerve to kick the blame to me
But strange to see how it came to be
This game just ain't the same to me
And I ain't gon' sympathize or look in his eyes
And tell no lies
So I said "FUCK WHAT YOU HEARD
THE TRUTH BURNS, BETTER RECOGNIZE"
[Bridge]
We have yet to see...
Where these roads will lead
So we take what we want
And give thanks when we receive
We have yet to see
Tomorrow may not be
So we take what we want
And give thanks when we receive