Tað er serliga lagið Put Your Records On, ið liggur nummar trý á bretska stakfløgulistanum, ið hevur tryggja sølutølini. Teitur sigur í tíðindaskrivi á myspace.com, at hann er sera errin av, at hava samstarvað [...] løgum, ið tey skrivaðu saman í íbúðini hjá Teiti í London fyri nøkrum árum síðan.Tað er serliga lagið Put Your Records On, ið liggur nummar trý á bretska stakfløgulistanum, ið hevur tryggja sølutølini. Teitur

who wait for their chance to declare HOLY WAR! Will they ask you: ARE YOU FREE FROM SIN? Can you put your hand on your heart and - to the American people - declare a clear YES HARDLY and, is it necessary

sítt egna tilfar við í skjáttuni til Føroya, var eisini nakað her at hoyra. Sangir sum: ?Take me?, ?Put all Your trust?, ?Kyrie Elaison?, ?If the Lord?, ?He´ll take the pain away? og so ikki minst sjálvur

11. Karim Elbodmossi Á beinkinum uttan at verða skiftur inn: 18. Ortwin Helderwert Venjari: Paul Put Gult kort: Stefan van Dender 8.

ing og ferðavinnu”. Á evnikvøldinum fer Haukur Sigurðsson at hava framløgu undir heitinum “How we put a remote region on the map” / “Hvussu vit fingu eitt avsíðis økið á heimskortið”. Haukur hevur útbúgving

or other problems. It is also standard practice and entirely reasonable to ask the drivers not to put each other at risk.? Stjórin í Formil 1 Bernie Ecclestone segði annars í dag við Reuters, at McLaren

proudly if we recognize the same rights to freedom and peace for all other nations and peoples. Let us put all our will and strength into stopping the atrocities and reestablishing an international order based

Little Star - Stina Nordenstam [SVØ] Hit the Waves - The Mary Onettes [SVØ] State Of No Connection - Put Your Hands Up For Neo-Tokyo [NOR] Au - Kaja Gunnufsen [NOR] Black Acid - Death Hawks [FIN] Latter Days

so-called Argument from Political Speech. This argument problematizes the restrictions that might be put on political opinions/political critique when these opinions are expressed in a way which can be i

mourners come.  Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves [...] talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For