I shall sit on his skirt.
Scotch proverbs
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Related quotes
Rupert
Rupert:
Sey yuh waan know Rupert
Blouse and skirt (repeat)
Sey yuh waan know Rupert
Blouse and skirt (repeat)
Verse 1:
Mi get up dis mawning
Sey mi nah ga a nuh work
Put on a pants and a likkle pretty shirt
Yow burn steel wi a go mek a gal splurt
Me hear a man start lick out alert
People dead! Me sey who? - Rupert
Mi go over deh a mi go see him inna dirt
Di way how me bex, mi sey everybody hurt
Mi a di fus' man sey, nuh mek di jeep splurt
A man draw fi a stone outta di dirt
And sey A obstacle must get hurt
Boop an lick a girl in har skirt
Mi hear she shout out Blouse and skirt
Dem deh time blood a decorate di skirt
Rupert:
Sey you waa know Rupert
Blouse and skirt (repeat)
Sey yuh waa know Rupert
Blouse and skirt
Verse 2:
Bop! Bop! shot start fire
A man sey "Hombre come we retire"
Shines say "no man, puncture di tire"
Yeah! Yuh go dweet, cause yuh a Bag-A-Wire
Bop!Bop! more shot start pop
"What is a uzi dat, no is a glock"
Yow! Stop yuh noise man, a chat you love chat?
See smoke deh, a tear gas
Tek yuh sheet dem, move di mattras
Lock di door from di bottom to di top
Mi did wake but mi gone sleep back
Mi naw go out deh fi get nuh gun shot -
Rupert:
Suh yuh nuh know Rupert, alright
Blouse and skirt
Verse 3:
Mi a go tell yuh how di youth get hurt
Him sey him eat till him belly did a run
So him wake up and go do-do Over di burial ground
So a come him a come See a jeep and go run
Bow! an dem shoot him dung
A man started to talk whey did dumb
Three couple man jump a fence Whey dem
Nobody know dem nuh waa get gun dung
[...] Read more
song performed by Zebra
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Smart Woman
Smart woman (in a real short skirt)
By: jimmy buffett, marshall chapman
1988
This song is about being in my 40's in the 80's. it seems i'm learing more than i'm forgetting.
-- spoken:
"so i told her, ooh you got money of your own? well, that gives me the urge to merge."
Bimbo limbo is where i've been
I know you know that it's wearing me thin
The times are changing, and it's about time
I'm rearrangin' all the guilt in my mind
Chorus:
I'm looking for a smart woman in a real short skirt
Smart woman who knows how to flirt
Smart woman got a mind of her own
Smart woman that'll take me home
Take me home
I'm not your macho kind of guy
But i can be so when i'm feeling shy
Hey, baby, where'd you get your good looks
Ooh, babe, i want to carry your books
Chorus:
I'm looking for a smart woman in a real short skirt
Smart woman who knows how to flirt
Smart woman got a mind of her own
Smart woman that'll take me home
Take me home
Beauty and brains (beauty and brains)
Best of both worlds (best of both worlds)
Think i can change (think i can change)
If you'll be my, be my, be my girl
Chorus:
I'm looking for a smart woman in a real short skirt
Smart woman who knows how to flirt
Smart woman got a mind of her own
Smart woman that'll take me home
Take me home
Chorus:
I'm looking for a smart woman in a real short skirt
Smart woman who knows how to flirt
Smart woman got a mind of her own
Smart woman better take me home
Take me home
song performed by Jimmy Buffett
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Home By The Sea
Creeping up the blind side, shinning up the wall
Stealing thru the dark of night
Climbing thru a window, stepping to the floor
Checking to the left and the right
Picking up the pieces, putting them away
Something doesnt feel quite right
Help me someone, let me out of here
Then out of the dark was suddenly heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Coming out the woodwork, thru the open door
Pushing from above and below
Shadows but no substance, in the shape of men
Round and down and sideways they go
Adrift without direction, eyes that hold despair
Then as one they sign and they moan
Help us someone, let us out of here
Living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Sit down sit down
Sit down sit down sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Images of sorrow, pictures of delight
Things that go to make up a life
Endless days of summer longer nights of gloom
Waiting for the morning light
Scenes of unimportance, photos in a frame
Things that go to make up a life
Help us someone, let us out of here
Cos living here so long undisturbed
Dreaming of the time we were free
So many years ago
Before the time when we first heard
Welcome to the home by the sea
Sit down sit down
Sit down sit down sit down sit down
As we relive out lives in what we tell you
Let us relive out lives in what we tell you
Sit down sit down sit down
Cos you wont get away
No with us you will stay
For the rest of your days - sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Let us relive our lives in what we tell you
song performed by Genesis
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Monitored or Not It Just Becomes Hypnotic
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
Toxic.
Toxic.
And nothing exotic will make this erotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And people who want what they want wont stop!
Like the hands of a clock that ticks with a tock!
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Or the chopping heard of meat on a butcher's block!
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop!
People like their beef stewed nice and hot!
And nothing exotic will make this erotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And people who want what they want wont stop!
Like the hands of a clock that ticks with a tock!
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Leg Anne and the Innocent Flirt.
Sister Mary pushed Anne
in her wheelchair
to the white table
where you were sitting
with Lydia Sad
and Malcolm
and a curly headed girl
with burn scars
on her face and neck
there
said the nun
here you can sit
and wait for breakfast
and catch the morning sun
Anne looked glumly
at the sky
and said nothing
as the nun
walked away
I wonder
what's for breakfast?
Malcolm asked
stewed cat on toast
Anne said
looking at Lydia Sad
whose blonde hair
and blue eyes
gave her
an angelic look
that's horrible
the girl with burn scars said
don't eat it then
Anne said
Malcolm looked at you
it wouldn't be that
would it?
He asked
no
you said
Anne's just having you on
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
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Oops (Oh My)
Tell u what i did last nite
I came home
Say about a quarter to 3
Still so high
Hypnotized
In a trance
From this body
So buttery brown
& tantalizing
U would have thought i needed help
From this feeling that i felt
So shook i had 2 catch my breath
Chorus
Ooops!
There goes my shirt up over my head
Oh my (oh my)
Ooops!
There goes my skirt droppin' to my feet
Oh my (oh my)
Oooo!
Some kind of touch
caressing my legs
Oh my (oh my)
Oooo!
I'm turning red
Who could this be?
I tried & i tried
To avoid
But this thang was happenin'
Swallowed my pride
Let it ride
& partied
But this body felt juz like mines
I got worried
I looked over to the left
A reflection of myself
That's y i couldn't catch my breath
Chorus
Ooops!
There goes my shirt up over my head
Oh my (oh my)
Ooops!
There goes my skirt droppin' to my feet
Oh my (oh my)
Oooo!
Some kind of touch
caressing my legs
Oh my (oh my)
Oooo!
I'm turning red
[...] Read more
song performed by Missy Elliott
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Boot That Supercool That You Do
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the scooting of satisfaction scats.
Will you pack it to be shipped away?
Or will you hang it to dust,
On a rack.
When the need to attract,
Lacks.
Then whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the flaunting of it needs to...
Sit back,
And...
Relax.
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
And have you given thought to that?
It's sad to see a rusting swagger.
Outdated and fading quick.
Yes it's sad to see a rusting swagger.
Doing it's best to be hip...
Limping through it!
So...
Whatcha gonna do with your supercool?
When the scooting of satisfaction scats.
Will you pack it to be shipped away?
Or will you hang it to dust,
On a rack.
When the need to attract,
Lacks.
Whatcha gonna do,
With your supercool?
You need to sit back and relax.
No need for you to prove that you've been supercool.
You need to sit back and relax.
Whatcha gonna do,
With your supercool?
You need to sit back and relax.
No need for you to prove that you've been supercool.
You need to sit back and relax.
You need to boot it and be through.
Sit back,
And relax.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Dip Yo Pity Here To Sit
Don't dip yo pity here to sit.
No permitted pity here can visit.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit.
No permitted pity here can visit.
When you tire of your weeping...
You can call on me.
But don't dip yo pity in a pit!
To leave it here to sit.
When you tire of your weeping...
You can call on me.
But don't dip yo pity in a pit!
To leave it here to sit.
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No tears on my pillow.
Unless they're mine to cry.
Everyday you bring me pity.
As if your pity thrives.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No yo...
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No yo!
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
Don't dip yo pity.
Don't dip yo pity here to sit!
No yo.
I'll call 9-1-1...
To rescue me.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Passerby
I'm not crazy like my brother
but it's the way I choose
I don't hang around with a six pence
when I got everything to lose
would you bring me my money
and take from me all that I was worth
cause I wasn't worth nothing
and I wasn't yours
oh don't you be a passerby
oh won't you sit down
and stay a while
cause it's been too long since you been around
sold out men from across the way
he thought he heard what he heard you say
hey now man your watch it shines
for the bid of a moment yeilds 40 times
oh don't you be a passerby
oh won't you sit down
and stay while
don't you be a passerby
oh don't won't you sit down
and stay a while...
cause it's been too long since you been around
woman and little child
don't you be a passerby
I'm not crazy like my brother
but it's the way I choose
I don't hang around with a six pence
when I got everything to lose
would you bring me my money
and take from me all that I was worth
cause I wasn't worth nothing
and I wasn't yours
oh don't you be a passerby
oh won't you sit down
and stay a while
cause it's been too long since you been around
sold out men from across the way
he thought he heard what he heard you say
hey now man your watch it shines
for the bid of a moment yeilds 40 times
[...] Read more
song performed by Dispatch from Who Are We Living For?
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Sit Down, Stand Up
Sit down, stand up
Sit down, stand up
Walk into the jaws of hell (sit down, stand up)
Walk into the jaws of hell (sit down, stand up)
Anytime (sit down)
Anytime (stand up)
Sit down, stand up
Sit down, stand up
We can wipe you out anytime (sit down, stand up)
We can wipe you out (sit down, stand up)
Anytime (sit down)
Anytime
Stand up (the rain drops the rain drops)
Sit down (the rain drops the rain drops)
Oh
The rain drops x46
song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
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She Loved Me; I Loved Her Not-Chapter Two
Audrey stood in front of the mirror that night
with the radio on staring at her body
in just in her bra and panties
evaluating her body, comparing her body,
her hair, her mouth, her behind
to Carly's
putting tissue paper in her bra cups
trying to get them look like Carly's breasts
puffing out her behind
pouting her lips
trying on a shade of lipstick
of lip gloss
that matched the kinds Carly wore.
She put her shortest shirt
thinking to hem to make it shorter
but not too short;
She didn't want to look cheap;
she would have to hide it in her backpack to get it out of the house.
She would have to change in the girl's bathroom at school
hoping no one would notice how her clothing had changed
that no one would notice and tell her parents,
or worse report her to the principal.
She didn't want people to start to talking about her
that would be mortifying
rumors would start
boys would start to think she was easy
and some of the girls would say she was a tramp or "fast."
Lots of girls at school wore short skirts but if she Audrey
wore one
people would notice,
her reputation would get ruined.
She looked at the skirt in the mirror
to see if her thighs,
now exposed,
looked fat or were too thick.
She stared at them not being able to tell
after all
she was not used to seeing her thighs in a short skirt.
She went to her closet to retrieve a top,
a white top,
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Heathen Town
We used to call it sin city
Now its gone way past that.
Painting the town
And then burning it down.
And even thats old hat.
Now there a choir of angles
And the fall of rome
Singing ave maria
Or home sweet home
Chorus:
Its just a heathen town
I hear only evil
As my tongue is tightened.
I used to be god-fearing
Now Im so frightened
cause the devil will drag you under
By the sharp tailfin
Of your checquered cab (? )
Now I cant sit down,
Im going overboard
In this heathen town.
Starts as an a flirtation
And ends up as an expensive habit.
With one eye on her place (? ? )
And thats his prison
And the other on a girl
Dressed as a rabbit.
Now you can live forever
In your fits and starts
The only stake you cannot raise
Is the one driven through your heart.
Chorus
The people all said sit down,
Sit down youre rocking the boat.
The people all said sit down,
Sit down youre rocking the boat.
cause the devil will drag you under
By the sharp lapels of your checkered coat.
Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down,
Sit down youre rocking the boat.
song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Choose a Removal of Delusions
If you choose to save face,
With a haste...
That leaves a pacing done,
In waste.
Eliminate,
The pacing!
And do,
What it takes.
It takes reflection,
Done.
It takes reflection to overcome.
It takes reflection,
Done...
To remove delusions.
It takes reflection,
Done.
It takes reflection to overcome.
It takes reflection,
Done...
To remove delusions,
Of the one that runs.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions and include,
A completion of truth you do.
Just sit back,
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions and include,
A completion of truth you do.
Relax and...
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions.
Sit back.
Choose a removal of delusions and include,
A completion of truth you do.
If you choose to save face,
With a haste...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hour Glass
I sit and stare
Watching as every grain falls away
I sit and stare
Asking what's there to life with every falling grain
I sit and stare
Asking what secrets lie within these sands of time
I sit, but this time I wonder
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
Clock's ticking, I sit back to relax
Sands falling, I clear my mind to hear my heart
Every minute passes me by, it's a moment to ponder
Reflections on my actions, the consequences that will seek to haunt me
But what good is this if I sit here another day
Ephemera it may be but life wasted if I regret my steps
watching as life ticks and trickles away from the grasp of man
I wish to see another day
So I sit and ask
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
I take a moment to sigh, so let my breath whisper my weakness
Tired from the daily routine of life
A hopeless endeavor lived for self
Ambition they say but what good is it if led by greed
if primary becomes secondary and secondary becomes primary
roofing replaces foundation and pillars become ruins
because surely chaos will pay you a visit
hence I know not a building of such design that stands the test of life
so I'll sit and ask
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
I'v been sitting in this chair for far too long
Least to say, my mind feels a little bit too far gone
Seeking for answers before the end of time
For when time ends judgment awaits
Will memories be our tombstones or will they be our well built thrones we'll one day sit on
Seek ye first what lies in the kingdom above
Let the gifts be secondary , let foundation be the basis
So u may sit and know
That the next falling grain brings hope to life
poem by Sir T.A.E.P.S
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Winds and Skirts
...it was the hem of her skirt I saw;
the wind, though blowing lightly,
revealed the contours of her frame.
Wished I could say I was not moved.
The host whisked her into a room
but the aroma of her perfume lingered.
Were I to see her face again,
I would not recognized it
but the hem of her skirt, well.
I stood there for an hour
with my face stuck to the pane;
my facial image is still there,
yet I did not see her.
I have smelled many perfumes since
and have seen many skirt hems...
What would I give to see her body
sway in the winds?
poem by Buxton Shippy
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The Skirt
Hallo Germaine that's a fine skirt you have
A fine skirt for a queen A cruel queen
Let's feel the silk of it Silk from Japan
And trimmed with wide lace made on no machine
Your skirt's a silken bell whose double clapper
Your legs have struck the passing of my fancies
O Germaine now I ring it my breast heaving
My hands press down upon your willing haunches
Your bedroom O my bell is a fine belfry
My hands touch silk and seem to tear my ears
Those pegs are gallows on which skirts are hanging
Those hanging men are dazzling my eyes
Motionless as an owl the oil lamp watches
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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I'm Her Man
let me put my finger in your nose
whoa, its not funny, no no no no
i can you you lookin down her shirt
i can see you liftin up her skirt
only gonna tell you once, only gonna tell you once
you better stay away from my girlfriend
you better stay away from her
im just givin warning so you get no broken bones
you better leave my girl alone
well i bet you can understand what i say
whoa, im really just playin
i can see you lookin down her shirt
i can see you liftin up her skirt
only gonna tell you twice, ask you really really nice
you better stay away from my girlfriend
you better stay away from her
im just givin warning so you get no broken bones
you better leave my girl alone
let me break your neck and crush your skull
whoa, you never listen, no no no no
i can see you lookin down her shirt
i can see you liftin up her skirt
ive seen too much of you
i cant take much more of this
you better stay away from my girlfriend
you better stay away from her
im just givin warning so you get no broken bones
you better leave my girl alone
song performed by Reel Big Fish
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In Mrs Clarke's Wake
Mrs Clarke pushed
her battered bassinet
between market stalls
not listening
to the stallholder's
shouts and calls
Helen walked behind her mother
as told holding your hand
So I know where you are
Mrs Clarke had said
you sensed
Helen's small hand
in yours
her seven year old skin
touching your
seven year old flesh
her thin fingers
encircling yours
We'll see if they've got
a school skirt
for you here
her mother said
turning back her head
Helen nodded
and you noticed
Helen's enlarged eyes
behind her thick lens
spectacles
searching her mother's
large behind waddling on
stopping now and then
beside stalls
picking up clothes
searching for a skirt or dress
grey and the right size
Helen whispered to you
putting her head
close to yours
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
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My White Skirt
'Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors.'
-Henry David Thoreau
See this white skirt?
I won't worry
as long as this skirt
swishes at my smooth knees,
rippling and laughing,
like a bright and silent flirt.
You're going to cut your pinkie,
as always,
you're never alert.
I won't think of consequences, piling up,
dirtying me like mud caking.
Treat me like a princess,
or like a sheet set,
but my life is a big mess
and you don't have a big enough net
for me
to believe
you won't leave me hanging, forsaken.
Your calloused fingers slide down the chords.
The guitar, then our lips, a final squeeze.
You sweat and quake;
I hold you at the end of an invisible sword.
But the room is rearranging,
but I'm not hoping.
Not yet.
I am
shaken,
not ready to be forsaken.
The next step means either hating you or faking.
That bleeding finger
spouts on my skirt. then skin
and it's dark red like sin!
I'm still shaking,
this was just a daydream I was remaking
and I'm shaken
unwilling to be swept off, to be taken.
It makes me shiver cold,
and I want to put up a hand,
end the nightmare,
or put you on ice, on hold,
instead of hearing an echo of a heart breaking...
poem by Delilah Miller
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Seventh Book
'THE woman's motive? shall we daub ourselves
With finding roots for nettles? 'tis soft clay
And easily explored. She had the means,
The moneys, by the lady's liberal grace,
In trust for that Australian scheme and me,
Which so, that she might clutch with both her hands,
And chink to her naughty uses undisturbed,
She served me (after all it was not strange,;
'Twas only what my mother would have done)
A motherly, unmerciful, good turn.
'Well, after. There are nettles everywhere,
But smooth green grasses are more common still;
The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud;
A miller's wife at Clichy took me in
And spent her pity on me,–made me calm
And merely very reasonably sad.
She found me a servant's place in Paris where
I tried to take the cast-off life again,
And stood as quiet as a beaten ass
Who, having fallen through overloads, stands up
To let them charge him with another pack.
'A few months, so. My mistress, young and light,
Was easy with me, less for kindness than
Because she led, herself, an easy time
Betwixt her lover and her looking-glass,
Scarce knowing which way she was praised the most.
She felt so pretty and so pleased all day
She could not take the trouble to be cross,
But sometimes, as I stooped to tie her shoe,
Would tap me softly with her slender foot
Still restless with the last night's dancing in't,
And say 'Fie, pale-face! are you English girls
'All grave and silent? mass-book still, and Lent?
'And first-communion colours on your cheeks,
'Worn past the time for't? little fool, be gay!'
At which she vanished, like a fairy, through
A gap of silver laughter.
'Came an hour
When all went otherwise. She did not speak,
But clenched her brows, and clipped me with her eyes
As if a viper with a pair of tongs,
Too far for any touch, yet near enough
To view the writhing creature,–then at last,
'Stand still there, in the holy Virgin's name,
'Thou Marian; thou'rt no reputable girl,
'Although sufficient dull for twenty saints!
'I think thou mock'st me and my house,' she said;
'Confess thou'lt be a mother in a month,
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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