I get paid for what most kids get punished for.
quote by Jerry Lewis
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I Paid The Price
See notes below
Well Im sick and tired
Of your alibis,
And your indiscreet lies
Just wont get you by,
Over and over and over and over again.
And your family,
Your forced superiority,
Your azure delusions of grandeur,
Are gonna cut you free,
Over and over and over and over again.
Youre as cold as ice.
Ahh, youre not miss nice,
And I paid the price.
Ahh, you can count me out.
Oh, without a doubt,
I paid the price.
And up and down, round, round you go,
But you know one monkey
Dont stop no show.
Its plain to see
Youre in need of help,
But I just cant go on
And whip myself
Over and over and over, over again.
Ahh, you can count me out.
Ahh, without a doubt,
You know, I paid the price.
Ahh, youre not miss nice.
Youre as cold as ice,
And I paid the price.
Yes I did.
You know I did.
And I just wanna know
Whos your sponsor.
I just wanna know, oh,
I just a-wanna know, oh,
I just a-wanna know, oh,
Whos your angel.
{backup singers} [i paid the price.]
Sing the song.
[i paid the price.]
[i paid the price.]
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your angel.
[i paid the price.]
And dont discriminate your sponsor.
[i paid the price.]
And be good to your angel.
[i paid the price.]
[...] Read more
song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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II. Half-Rome
What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)
Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Kids
Written by jay kay and toby smith
Now were getting nasty
Everybody is talking about the kids
The kids have funky soul and groove emotion
But if you dont give the kids the chance to use it
Theyre always more than likely to abuse it
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure.
Everybodys talking about the kids
And its taking time for you to realise
Now hunger turns to anger in your eyes
I say the revolution will be televised, yes it will gil...
Everybodys talking about the kids
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure.
Kids get down underground, evrybody dance to the funky sound.
Everybodys talking about the kids
The kids need space to get their heads in place
And every day this world we have to face
Well I just cant seem to find my proper place
Kids get down, celebrate, now were gonna kick the thing we hate
Everybodys talking about the kids
It wont be long before we get our own
And every kid can truly feel at home
I told ya you should give the dog a bone.
Kids get down, pressurized, to live the life that you devised
Kids get down, celebrate, life is to short to complicate
Everybodys talking about school
But I get more pleasure breaking all the rules
Cos lesson one begins with life is cruel
Well I guess Im just an educated fool
Everybodys talking about the kids
Mom and dad make efforts to excuse it
Government officials will confuse it
Members of the bench will try to prove it
Youre going down sucker!
Everybodys talking about the kids now
Everybodys talking about the kids now
The kids got funky soul
Everybodys talking about high
But kids get high to satisfy
For reaching out to touch the sky
Is all I can identify, and you know why...
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure
Kids get down celebrate, now were gonna kick the thing we hate.
song performed by Jamiroquai
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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The Kids Are Alright
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
I know if I go things would be a lot better for her
I know if I go things would be a lot better for her
I had things planned, but her folks wouldnt let her
I had things planned, but her folks wouldnt let her
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kids
Kids - kids, Christmas i-is for kids
Look around and you will see
Kids from one to ninety-three
Laughin', lovin' life and bein' kids
Kids - ki-i-i-ids, Christmas i-is for kids
Kids like you and little brother
Aunts and uncles, dads and mothers
Grandma, grandpa an' all the other kids
Daddy runs the 'lectric train
While all the children wait in vain
To take their turn
At playin' engineer
Grandpa catches grandma's cheek
And all the family sneaks a peak
And suddenly
Their wrinkles disappear
Take a look at Betty Joe
Underneath the mistletoe
Pretending that
She doesn't know it's there
And in the front yard Uncle Mike
Just fell off brother's brand new bike
There's Christmas cheer
And laughter everywhere
Kids (kids) - ki-i-i-ids (kids)
Christmas i-is for kids
Christmas time is here again
And now it's when the fun begins
This time of year we all turn into kids...
song performed by Kenny Rogers
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Vacuous Space
Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And the winners,
Had been the merchants...
Breathing royalty,
On 5th Avenue!
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And the bleeding of the people....
Had been seen from their limousines!
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And It's an off beat situation,
To see the homeless
Pushing carts...
Up on these scenes!
Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous space...
In the head,
Once getting paid to lead!
And the trickling of this meanness...
Is a payback for those,
Who had chose to steal
Away sweet dreams!
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead!
It's an off beat situation
Getting fixed...
As the kings are dragged
Screaming
With tainted hands
Bitten and bloodied
By those they chose
To live in tattered clothes
Hungry and suffering
Squeezed from the cream
That was theirs all the time
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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IV. Tertium Quid
True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Radio Station: Chico, Irish History Teacher Go Wild
(me)
hello!
(she) hi!
(me)
why you hi me for?
what are you doing?
(she)
i am a history teacher
professor
PH.D of that kind
my university
is a fancy catholic community
at the lake shore.
if you plan to put your kids
our kids
into plan
this the right place.
(me)
hoo! hoo!
irish teacher
are you advertizin on my show?
or are you E.R Vad zin zining trying to
make my show chineeze zin zen type of show?
or you are planning to have
kids
and lead them to your university
with my kids mixed them up
in the same class
of your damn history?
are you killing me?
or are you trying to irish me
with your gloried oiled Professional skills?
sorry woman,
i will give you a 'Z' as a grade
in your own class of latino irish.
because
first your kids
or future kids
wont go to class with my kids
[...] Read more
poem by Atef Ayadi
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Marley Purt Drive
Sunday morning, woke up yawning; filled the pool for a swim.
Pulled down the head and looked in the glass just to see if I was in.
Went up the stairs and kissed my women to make her come alive.
'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids ,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
That's how they are, so I grabbed out the car;convertible fifty-nine.
Headed for the freeway; tried to find the Pasadena sign.
Ten miles and three quarters more I wasn't feeling any more alive.
'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
I used to be a minstrel free with a whole lot of bread in my bag.
I used to feel that my life was real, but the good Lord threw me a snag.
Now I'm gonna be the same as me ,no matter how I try.
'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Turned 'round the car and headed for home; I guess I realized my fate.
Ten miles and three quarters more I pulled up outside the gate.
Twenty more kids were stood inside and that made thirty-five.
'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
An orphanage full of thirty-five kids ,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Sunday morning woke up yawning; filled the pool for a swim.
Pulled down the glass and looked in the mirror just to see if I was in .
Went up the stairs and kissed my women to make her come alive.
'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids ,
I got to go for a Sunday
song performed by Bee Gees
Added by Lucian Velea
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102
First one paid nine
then, two paid eight
then three paid seven
then, four paid six
then five paid five
then six paid four
then seven paid three
then eight paid two
and finally, nine paid one,
wee, wee, wee, wee, wee
all the way home.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Added by Poetry Lover
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Slum Kids
Were just slum kids, and we know it,
And we never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Slum Kids (take 1)
Were just slum kids, and we know it,
And we never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Kids Dont Like It
Got some words, I dont know
Gonna singem here I go
Wanna try not to be lame
Wanna make you feel the same
I just wanna be someone
Dont you know we tried to do something new
It may sound real good, but I dont think were getting through
Because the kids dont like it (no, no)
The kids dont like it (no, no, no)
The kids dont like it, no they dont like it at all
Had a hit, famous? no
Easy come, easy go
Should be happy with what I got
Should be happy but Im not
I just wanna be someone
Dont you know we tried to do something new
It may sound real good, but I dont think were getting through
Because the kids dont like it (no, no)
The kids dont like it (no, no, no)
The kids dont like it, no they dont like it at all
I thought thered come a day
When Id run out of things to say
But I know now its true
No one listens anyway
And all we wanted was to do somethin new
I doesnt sound so good and I dont think were getting through
Because the kids dont like it (no, no)
The kids dont like it (no, no, no)
The kids dont like it, no they dont like it at all, anymore
song performed by Reel Big Fish
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kids!
Kids!
Hundreds of 'em for the farmer! Kids of an imported brand;
Thousands of 'em for the country! Lo, the man upon the land
Bids
Loud for England's surplus youngster - five whole bob a week, 'tis said;
And their value to the nation stands at many pounds a head.
But the nation never riz 'em.
That 'would tend to Socialism';
So we have to fetch 'em over from the country where they're bred.
Kids!
Send us kids from good old Britain - sons of men who won't be slaves
From the land where countless paupers seek dishonorable graves
Quids!
We're prepared to offer for them. Ship them out across the deep,
From that dear old Freetrade country where the cost of labor's cheap.
While, of our unmarried workers
(Married men are costly shirkers)
We will take a meagre hundred at a pound a week and keep.
Kids?
We can't raise 'em in Australia, where employers by the score
For the bloke without a missus in the labor depôts roar
Bids.
Ship 'em out! The noble farmer yearns to mould their bright young lives.
Ship 'em young that for a dozen years they may not seek for wives.
When they think of getting married
Maybe they'll regret they tarried
Where the kid-encumbered worker vainly for a billet strives.
Kids?
We don't want 'em when they're babies, for their raisin' costs a heap.
We don't want 'em when they're married, with their own young broods to keep.
Skids
And brakes upon the wheels of progress are such futile folk. Just look
At the bob advertisement. You'll see their chance of work is 'crook.'
Ship 'em out in handy sizes
For the cove that advertises
For the unencumbered couple
' Man to milk and wife to cook.'
Kids?
Spare our days! Why should we raise 'em? We can get 'em ready-made
From a land where there's a surplus, thanks to good old BULL's Freetrade.
Quids
It will save the careful farmer. He can give his man the sack
Costly man who owns a missus and a child or two to whack.
Ship 'em out, he's yearnin' for 'em;
While they're young he'll just adore 'em
Then, when they grow up and marry, someone else can ship 'em back.
Ships
Pass in with cheap boy labor - 'badly needed farming hand';
Shps pass out with young Australians seeking work in other lands.
Hips
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
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Bad Education
Rewrite of Bon Jovi's Bad Medicine
No, there they ain't got a fever
Got what seems to be a permanent disease
It'll take more then the school nurse or PTA committee
To prescribe a remedy
They got loads of money
But it isn't what our kids need
Seems all they ever do anymore is get our little ones
Either shot or knocked up by some overeager teacher
Try to cover this song up
But no way am I going away or letting you silence me
I know
Today's kids got all the symptons
Count 'em 1,4,3
Deny it
But we all know
Today it's all about your greed
Not some desperate kid's need
Hiring sexy young thangs
Got our kids falling in love
Cos they're too darn young to know any better
You got the wrong ones in charge and you know it
When it comes to their learning
You only give 'em a little
Never ever enough
Leave them brainless and on their knees
Begging for a chance at a better life
But never finding none
Cause while you were busy looking the other way
Dealer's got 'em hooked on the drugs
Your teachin' ain't nothin' but bad education
Bad education ain't what today's kids need
All shook up and confused
Led astray by your bad education
Tell me
Why don't you even bother
To try and cure this disease
Nowadays our kids are forced to depend on guitar heroes and druggie needles
Just to be gettin' some attention
Just to be gettin' some thrills
They give in to the pills
Cause of your lazy butt work force
They all got a dirty low down addiction
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do
1-2-3-4-
1-2-3..RIFF!!!
yeah!!!
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do..yeah
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do
(take that with you)
song performed by Metallica
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kids Are Alright
I don't mind for the guy dancing with my girl.
That's fine, I know them all pretty well.
But I know if i don't i'll go out of my mind
So I leave her behind where the kids are alright,
The kids are alright.
Sometimes I feel I gotta get away.
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away.
But I know if I don't I'll go out of my mind.
So I leave her behind where the kids are alright,
The kids are alright.
I know if I'd go things'd be a lot better for her.
I tryed so hard but her folks wouldn't let her.
Sometimes I feel I gotta get away.
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away.
And I know if I don't I'll go out of my mind.
Sp I leave her behind where the kids are alright,
The kids are alright,
The kids are alright,
The kids are alright
song performed by Goldfinger
Added by Lucian Velea
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