The shroud has no pockets.
Turkish proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Digging Real Deep
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch or a feel of return.
And a lesson's not learned,
That...
A deposit made to dip,
For tasty lips...
Took too many dips,
To withdrawn the end of it.
And there will be no return...
You put that last deposit in your pocket,
And then you split...
With it.
You put that last deposit in your pocket,
And then you split...
With it.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch or a feel of return.
And a lesson's not learned,
That...
A deposit made to dip,
For tasty lips...
Took too many dips,
To withdrawn the end of it.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
IS...
Digging real deep.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
IS...
Digging real deep
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Charity Begins At Home
A shake of the tin
The money drops in, but is it a sin
Youre standing in rags
Youre selling your flags
But who gets the dough at the end of the day
We saw your drop-dead fancy wheels
Your little house up on the hill
But when your conscience pricks
A little sacrifice sweetens the pill
So keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
We take to the stage
The audience rave, were doing our bit
A heavenly cast, a blast from the past
Theres a song to be sung, will it make number one
We wanna see your money roll
But our eyes are on the hall of fame
'cos business is business
And hits are the name of the game
So keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
Everywhere that we turn
There are mouths to be fed
How can we sleep
The battle goes on while were
Safe in our beds
So dont turn away
No dont turn away
Your doors are locked
You switch on the box to take in a show
You think that youre safe
But here comes that face
And wouldnt you know its that message again
They want to take your plastic cash
Your hand reaches out to the phone
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
Everywhere that we turn
There are mouths to be fed
How can we sleep
The battle goes on while were
Safe in our beds
[...] Read more
song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Munition Maker
I am the Cannon King, behold!
I perish on a throne of gold.
With forest far and turret high,
Renowned and rajah-rich am I.
My father was, and his before,
With wealth we owe to war on war;
But let no potentate be proud . . .
There are no pockets in a shroud.
By nature I am mild and kind,
To gentleness and ruth inclined;
And though the pheasants over-run
My woods I will not touch a gun.
Yet while each monster that I forge
Thunders destruction form its gorge.
Death's whisper is, I vow, more loud . . .
There are no pockets in a shroud.
My time is short, my ships at sea
Already seem like ghosts to me;
My millions mock me I am poor
As any beggar at my door.
My vast dominion I resign,
Six feet of earth to claim is mine,
Brooding with shoulders bitter-bowed . . .
There are no pockets in a shroud.
Dear God, let me purge my heart,
And be of heaven's hope a part!
Flinging my fortune's foul increase
To fight for pity, love and peace.
Oh that I could with healing fare,
And pledged to poverty and prayer
Cry high above the cringing crowd:
"Ye fools! Be not Mammon cowed . . .
There are no pockets in a shroud."
poem by Robert William Service
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Life & How To Live It
Burn bright through the night, two pockets lead the way
To doors to go between the wall was raised today
To doors remain before your others and your own
Keep these books well stocked away and take your happy home
My carpenters out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
Burn bright through the night, two pockets lead the way
Two doors to go between the wall was raised today
Raise the walls and shout its flaws, a carpenter should rest
So that when you tire of one side the other serves you best
My carpenters out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
The hills ringing hear the words in time
Listen to the holler, listen to my walls within my tongue
Cant you see you made my ears go tin?
The air quicken tension building inference suddenly
Life and how to live it
Raise the walls and shout its flaws, a carpenter should rest
So that when you tire of one side the other serves you best
Read about the wisdom lost, a knock, a knock, a knock
A secret knock one hammers locked the other wisdom lost
My carpenters out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
My carpenters out and running about, barking in the, listen to the holler
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
Listen, listen to the holler,
If I write a book it will be called life and how to live it
song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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Life And How To Live It
Burn bright through the night two pockets lead the way
Two doors to go between the wall was raised today
Two doors remain before your others and your own
Keep these books well stocked away and take your happy home
My carpenter's out and running about talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
Burn bright through the night, two pockets lead the way
Two doors to go between the wall was raised today
Raise the walls and shout its flaws, a carpenter should rest
So that when you tire of one side the other serves you best
My carpenter's out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
The hills ringing hear the words in time
Listen to the holler, listen to my walls within my tongue
Can't you see you made my ears go tin?
the air quicken tension building inference suddenly
Life and how to live it
Raise the walls and shout its flaws, a carpenter should rest
So that when you tire of one side the other serves you best
Read about the wisdom lost, a knock, a knock, a knock
A secret knock one hammer's locked the other wisdom lost
My carpenter's out and running about, talking to the street
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
My carpenter's out and running about, barking in the, listen to the holler
My pockets are out and running about
Barking in the street to tell what I have hidden there
Listen, listen to the holler,
If I write a book it will be called "Life and How to Live It
song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give Me That Loot
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
And...
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
I've tightened up my loosened belt...
Not to miss a single loop.
I think of having juice or cool-aid...
But a bowl of noodle soup will do!
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide would just be great!
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Rock
My billfold doesn't have a prayer
There's Christmas catalogs everywhere
She keeps looking at the jewelry section
Cutting pictures out of her selections
I said we need to hold it down this year
And in her eye she got a big ol' tear
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She don't want pots and pans
Just something shinin' on her hand
With an emerald or a diamond on it
I had a budget but she's gone and blown it
Down to the jewelry store, here I go
Hear the clerk say, ho, ho, ho
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She don't want anything from sears
No tools or garden shears
There's something special on her mind
And I can't even afford the shine
I wish she'd settled for a long nightshirt
No, I've got to give till it hurts
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She don't want pots and pans
Just something shinin' on her hand
With an emerald or a diamond on it
I had a budget but she's gone and blown it
Down to the jewelry store, here I go
Hear the clerk say, ho, ho, ho
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She wants a Christmas rock
But ol' Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
song performed by Toby Keith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Threepenny Pierrot
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
Happy little feet that dance all day
Lonely little heart with lots to say
Stepping footprints on your mind
Offering thoughts of columbine
Bang the drum and blow the bugle call
Pierrot takes the stage to play for all
For heres a life his fortune rules
Forsaken by his columbine
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
To tap his feet to greet dear harlequin
The hearts of folks so keenly hard to win
A patchwork frame of tears and wine
The nectar for cruel columbine
The part of three and leaves the stage forlorn
Puppets cold, their faces sad and drawn
Relive each trial of rise and fall
The love which lacks between us all
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero, threepenny pierrot
Threepenny pierrot - we love you
Threepenny pierrot - loves us too
Pockets of gladness, gay time eyes
Comical hero . . . . . . threepenny pierrot
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sell Me A Coat
La la la la la la la la la la la la la
A winters day, a bitter snowflake on my face
My summer girl takes little backward steps away
Jack frost took her hand and left me, jack frost aint so cool
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
And when she smiles, the ice forgets to melt away
Not like before, her smile was warming yesterday
See the trees like silver candy, feel my icy hand
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
See my eyes, my window pane
See my tears like gentle rain
Thats the memory of a summer day
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
Sell me a coat with buttons of silver
Sell me a coat thats red or gold
Sell me a coat with little patch pockets
Sell me a coat cause I feel cold
La la la la la la
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Face Facts
Figured out long time ago
Nothings as it seems dont you know
Go underground if you want the scoop
Cuz the populations out the loop
You know I size up my sacks with a couple extra grams
D-loc got a caddy, I got a v-dub van,
X daddy rolled a fatty, asked him whats the plan?
He took a hit, blew out his rip
And said, lets plant the land
Yeah I smoke some weed, just a little somethin somethin
Dont hate me because I got the country buzzin
Leave cats shocked, you know the crowd be jumpin
On my pride it blows like a chemical combustion
My real names dustin, I spit these customs
Aka d-loc, e-locs little cousin
Dont be mad, be glad, tell your dad
Cuz I be spittin rhymes you never knew I even had
(? ? ) (into the store? ), double parked and got a ticket
By a midget on a pony, I called him shorty
He started twitchin, fingers clickin
While hes bitchin, and I snapped
I had a vision, I was leading in the useless race
I had the pole position, no but kiddin
And I didnt make that mess up in your kitchen
I was dishin out some sacks, and me and loc, well we were fishin
I keep wishin that youd ease on up and quit it with your trippin
Maybe smoke a bit more weed and stop it with that candy flippin
Lets face facts, chips get stacked
Unsystematically our pockets get fat
And we kick back, pimp caddilacs
Smoke off pounds, flip dime sacks
Think you can out smoke me, well Im calling you a liar
Cuz my bowl, I set it on fire
Im on my couch with my pouch and my fat jb
Got ten different types of weed, about a pound of each
No leaves, theyre clipped clean
But the few they hit the bing
Then my phone rings, my boy askin what he need to bring
I said some coligreen, some kale, some pot, and some ale
And that freak we met last night, I think her name was uh...michelle
Ah what the hell, just put out the word
Any hottie with the nerve, richter said that he will serve
Graduated high school back in 95,started writin rhymes
Laid low, Im hard to find
A kid like me, no less, Im kinda fresh
Discovered the weed, took a hit and got blessed
Im not the best, just flexed on the next
Daddy x plan a text, simply not complexed
Ill give it all I got, put the game to a test
Keep writin rhymes and forget about the rest
[...] Read more
song performed by Kottonmouth Kings
Added by Lucian Velea
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If It Was About A Lot Of Money
If it was about a lot of money...
My mind would be,
Trimmed in dollar bills.
With-my-thoughts-on a million of them,
And a caring less of my fellowman.
And if it was about a lot of money...
I'd ignore,
Every two cents made.
By anybody wanting to deliver to me,
Any consciousness attached to common sense.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money...
I wouldn't be concerned about the suffering seen.
And if it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
And if it was about a lot of money...
My eyes wouldn't cry when I see these scenes.
If it was about a lot of money...
My mind would be,
Trimmed in dollar bills.
With-my-thoughts-on a million of them,
And a caring less of my fellowman.
If it was about a lot of money...
I'd ignore,
Every two cents made.
By anybody wanting to deliver to me,
Any consciousness to instigate.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money...
I wouldn't be concerned about the suffering seen.
I'd fill my pockets and get away!
If it was about a lot of money.
I'd fill my pockets each and everyday.
If it was about a lot of money.
I'd fill my pockets and get away!
If it was about a lot of money.
I'd fill my pockets up and run the other way.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Most Unhappy Chase The Money
With that mind that you have,
And all the things that you can do...
Why you only chase,
The money?
Why you only chasing for the money.
Why the money.
Why you only chasing money.
With that mind that you have,
And other things to pursue.
Why you only chase,
The money?
Why you only chasing for the money.
Why the money.
Why you only chasing after money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
People most unhappy find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
And those unhappy people find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
People most unhappy find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
And those unhappy people find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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We Need Cash And Not Your Lip
You may not have a clue,
Or be conscious of it.
You may accept it as a part of life,
Existing.
Spending as if there is not end to it.
Until a limit has been reached,
With a lesson to begin...
Taught to you as one to teach.
You believed you were equal.
Sharing 'perks' and benefits.
But when your pockets emptied...
Quick,
Your credit also split!
You believed you were equal.
Sharing 'perks' and benefits.
You believed you were equal.
But when your pockets emptied...
Quick,
Your credit also split!
You once felt equal.
You may not have a clue,
Or be conscious of it.
You may accept it as a part of life,
Existing.
Spending as if there is no end to it.
Until your limit has been reached,
With a lesson to begin...
Taught to you as one to teach.
And then you call your creditors...
Who say to you we need some cash,
And not a promise of it!
It's needed now.
And needed fast!
You believed you were equal.
Sharing 'perks' and benefits.
You believed you were equal.
But when your pockets emptied quick...
You called your creditors who say,
They need the cash and not your lip.
You believed you were equal.
Sharing 'perks' and benefits.
You believed you were equal.
But when your pockets emptied quick...
You called your creditors who say,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Glenara
O, heard ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail?
'Tis the chief of Glenara laments for his dear;
And her sire and her people are called to her bier.
Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud;
Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud;
Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around;
They marched all in silence, - they looked on the ground.
In silence they reached, over mountain and moor,
To a heath where the oak-tree grew lonely and hoar;
'Now here let us place the gray stone of her cairn; -
Why speak ye no word?' said Glenara the stern.
'And tell me, I charge ye, ye clan of my spouse,
Why fold ye your mantles, why cloud ye your brows?'
So spake the rude chieftain; no answer is made.
But each mantle, unfolding, a dagger displayed.
'I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her shroud.'
Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud;
'And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem;
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!'
O, pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween,
When the shroud was unclosed and no lady was seen;
When a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in scorn, -
'Twas the youth who had loved the fair Ellen of Lorn,
'I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her grief,
I dreamt that her lord was a barbarous chief;
On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem;
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!'
In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
And the desert revealed where his lady was found;
From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne;
Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn.
poem by Thomas Campbell
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Dance of Death
I.
Night and morning were at meeting
Over Waterloo;
Cocks had sung their earliest greeting;
Faint and low they crew,
For no paly beam yet shone
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolonged the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower
Marked it a predestined hour.
Broad and frequent through the night
Flashed the sheets of levin-light:
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Showed the dreary bivouac
Where the soldier lay,
Chill and stiff, and drenched with rain,
Wishing dawn of morn again,
Though death should come with day.
II.
'Tis at such a tide and hour
Wizard, witch, and fiend have power,
And ghastly forms through mist and shower
Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear
Presaging death and ruin near
Among the sons of men;-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
'Twas then grey Allan sleepless lay;
Grey Allan, who, for many a day,
Had followed stout and stern,
Where, through battle's rout and reel,
Storm of shot and edge of steel,
Led the grandson of Lochiel,
Valiant Fassiefern.
Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,
And Morven long shall tell,
And proud Bennevis hear with awe
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra
Of conquest as he fell.
III.
Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary sentinel held post,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Finding Loves Fool
Finding loves fool
loves fool you may be
but I stand in front of thee
a light covered in the shroud of lies
Where sorrow will not die
In the shroud of lies
will I be
So there look for me
If the lies should make you sorrow
Do not cry in fear of tomorrow
For I will find thee before
That marrow
And at that time
There will be no sorrow
Should your eyes still cry
then I will find you in the
in the shroud of lies
Twice as fast as
You cry
Will I fly to your side
may I wipe away the tears
Of pain and sorrow
and your fears
For now and tomorrow
Then from your tears will I form
A drink of love
And sorrow torn
then may I show you the light
Of tomorrow
Along with it the army of sorrow
And then in fight
I shall give you no sorrow
For none shall pass me
But die in the birth of tomorrow
If in case should I die
Then sprout your wings
And fly
Beyond the sight of this marrow
[...] Read more
poem by Cody Byrne
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Fitration Bags
2.5 gallon shopvac bags
1995 ktm 400 rxc hard bags
2006 black leather prada bags list
24 x 36 shrink bags
18 x 9 padded bag
3m printscape personalized gift bag
20lb bag parrot food
40 inch round duffle bag
2001 explorer air bag light flashes
3rd street sissy bar bag
1997 nissan air bag sensor
12x18 carry bag
1001 grab bag ideas
2000 explorer air bag light flashing
15,000 cfm used bag dustcollector
12 lb turkey recipies in bag
14.1 laptop messenger bags
3306 plan tackle bag
10 pound bag of endives yield
4 mil zip bags
$2 grab bag nsd
1970s bean bag
18th century shooting bags
48 superman bop bag
2006 kawasaki ninja 250r bags
1976 electra glide saddle bags
1940 s english aoutomobiles gas bags
40 lb bag of cement
07 cr-v safety bag plastic pillar
2 gauge ear plug grab bag
1998 saturn sl2 air bag module
40 degree helix sleeping bag
3x4 organza gift bags
3 bags full consignment
2000 mercedes air bag problem
2ply snap handle bag
1987 bmw k75s saddle bags
2003 bozo desktop bop bag
135 approved electronic flight bag
2005 toyota matrix side air bags
2006 bag gucci spring
3 insulated sleeping bags
4in bag ice one
2008 street bob hard bags
45 micron bag
250 ninja nelson-rigg saddle bag
24 wheeled garment bag
1996 lincoln continental air bag suspension
2006 aka boule bag
400d horn bag
[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Flashback Blues
While window shopping through the past
I ran across a looking glass
Reflecting moments remaining in a burned out light
Tragic magic prayers of passion
Stay the same through changing fashions
They freeze my mind like water on a winters night
Spent most of my youth
Out hobo cruising
And all I got for proof
Is rocks in my pockets and dirt in my shoes
So goodbye nonbeliever
Dont you know that I hate to leave here
So long babe, I got the flashback blues.
Photographs show the laughs
Recorded in between the bad times
Happy sailors dancing on a sinking ship
Cloudy skies and dead fruit flies
Waving goodbye with tears in my eyes
Well, sure I made it but ya know it was as hell of a trip.
Spent most of my youth
Out hobo cruising
And all I got for proof
Is rocks in my pockets and dirt in my shoes
And ten times what it grieves you
Thats how much more I hate to leave you now
So long babe, I got the flashback blues.
Spent most of my youth
Out hobo cruising
And all I got for proof
Is rocks in my pockets and dirt in my shoes
So goodbye nonbeliever
Dont you know that I hate to leave here
So long babe, I got the flashback blues.
song performed by John Prine
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Hear Voices
I feel the pressure
Pushing down on me
Cant face the world
Cant change the things I see
I got my hands in my pockets
Staring at the walls
Can nobody help me
To escape from it all
I hear voices in my head
They taunt me
Cant lock them out
Inside my thoughts
They breathe in me
I got my hands in my pockets
Screaming at the walls
Can nobody help me
To escape from it all
Ive got to run to be free
Break the chains round my heart
Take away the pain and the joy
Release the man from the boy
Run to be free, run from the heart
Life will take you where it goes
You can offer me salvation
Feed me when I call
Dont talk to me of sanity
When Im not quite here at all
Ive touched the sun
I felt its warmth in me
So you will never take away my dignity
Cause Ive got my hands in my pockets
Fighting for my cause
Can nobody help me
To escape from it all
Run to be free
Break the chains round my heart
Life will take you where it goes
Run to be free
Run from the heart
song performed by Uriah Heep
Added by Lucian Velea
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Giving Options Prevents That
No bonuses.
No more pats on the back.
No bonuses.
Lobbyists fight back.
No bonuses.
And that's why they attack.
Gone will be fat pockets.
And lifestyles lived in shacks.
Thieves like these greed.
Giving options prevents that.
No bonuses.
No more pats on the back.
No bonuses.
Lobbyists fight back.
No bonuses.
And that's why they attack.
Gone will be fat pockets.
And lifestyles lived in shacks.
Thieves like these greed.
Giving options prevents that.
No bonuses.
No more pats on the back.
No bonuses.
Lobbyists fight back.
No bonuses.
And that's why they attack.
Gone will be fat pockets.
And lifestyles lived in shacks.
Thieves like these greed.
Giving options prevents that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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