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The story about me, apocryphal or not, is that I could sing before I spoke. My parents went into bedroom one day and there I was standing in the crib singing God Bless America.

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God Bless America

While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land thats free.
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer:
God bless america, land that I love,
Stand beside her and guide her
Through the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans white with foam,
God bless america,
My home sweet home.
-- irving berlin

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God Bless America

God Bless America
Land That I Love
Stand Beside Her And Guide Her
Through The Night With The Light From Above

From The Mountains To The Prairies
To The Oceans Wide With Hope
God Bless America
My Home Sweet Home

God Bless America
My Home Sweet Home
God Bless America

From The Mountains To The Praries
To The Oceans Wide With Hope
God Bless America
My Home Sweet Home

God Bless America
My Home Sweet Home

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God Bless America? (A Sonnet)

Come all you people, join the applause
That patriots give to the Mother of Wars!
Let's crucify those left-wing types
Who won't bow down to the Stars 'n Stripes!
Bin Laden's dead, and Saddam Hussein,
The Yankees are winners again and again.
We're going to be masters in Afghanistan,
You just cannot beat an American man!
Our critics all think we did it for oil
But whatever you do someone's going to spoil
Your sense of achievement and justified pride
In your brothers in arms and the soldiers who died -
God bless America, raise her flag high,
Then look out the window and watch the pigs fly! !

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God Bless America

God bless America
God bless our flag
With those stars and stripes
It is much more than a rag

God bless the soldiers
Who fight for his land
Protecting others rights
He needs your helping hand

God bless the children
All across this land
They need our protection
Until they can understand

God bless the Angels
That show at our darkest hours
May they help many more
With Your guidince and Your power

God bless the wildlife
That roam this land so free
For no matter what they are
They are still a sight to see

Yes God bless America
May the wars all soon end
And no matter where we're from
We can still greet each other as friends

wrote 2/3/2009 by Norman Hale Jr.

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I came down to the living room one day and my wife was standing in the living room. It wasn't an illusion. I saw her out of the corner of my eye. The moment I saw her, she vanished.

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I Am The American Eagle

I Am The American Eagle

I am the American Eagle
with a broken right Republican wing,
and a broken left Democrat wing,
its 'We the people' body tattered and torn.
It needs pledges of help
to its God Bless America body,
for the Eagle spirit to heal.

Its 10% White Collar head
has lost control of its 90%
Blue Collar welfare soul.
For the American Eagle
to become strong,
we must quit
outsourcing its welfare
and unite with its talons
saying NUTS
Never Under Tyranny Surrender
the American Eagle spirit
that unites this nation.

That America is not 10%
but 100%,
where elected officials
need to be 100%
not 10%.
That we do not need
economic morticians
but 100%
American eagle POLITICIANS,
who are not bickering
Republicans
and/or
Democrats
but 100%
Americans.

'I pledge allegiance
to the flag of
the United States of America,
and to the republic
for which it stands,
one nation under God,
indivisible, with liberty
and justice for all.'

Feel these words reach deep inside America,
It is not a pledge to Demigod
Republicans and Democrats,
Nor is it to Wall St or Private Equity.
It diversity is not just
Conservative, Progressive, Liberal
Or Moderate or Independent,
Rich, poor,
It is even homeless.

Swiss bank accounts,
Overseas tax havens,
It is about investing in America
That we now need 100% pledges
For the American Eagle NUTS talons,
Never Under Tyranny Surrender
Our American 100% heritage
to the future of our children.
So the eaglets can fly
with both wings.

David Lester Young (Franklin Doppelganger) 07/06/12 ©

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Register

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God bless America.
We an open forum, learning to grow
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TODAY!

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The Bumboat Woman's Story

I'm old, my dears, and shrivelled with age, and work, and grief,
My eyes are gone, and my teeth have been drawn by Time, the Thief!
For terrible sights I've seen, and dangers great I've run -
I'm nearly seventy now, and my work is almost done!

Ah! I've been young in my time, and I've played the deuce with men!
I'm speaking of ten years past - I was barely sixty then:
My cheeks were mellow and soft, and my eyes were large and sweet,
POLL PINEAPPLE'S eyes were the standing toast of the Royal Fleet!

A bumboat woman was I, and I faithfully served the ships
With apples and cakes, and fowls, and beer, and halfpenny dips,
And beef for the generous mess, where the officers dine at nights,
And fine fresh peppermint drops for the rollicking midshipmites.

Of all the kind commanders who anchored in Portsmouth Bay,
By far the sweetest of all was kind LIEUTENANT BELAYE.'
LIEUTENANT BELAYE commanded the gunboat HOT CROSS BUN,
She was seven and thirty feet in length, and she carried a gun.

With a laudable view of enhancing his country's naval pride,
When people inquired her size, LIEUTENANT BELAYE replied,
"Oh, my ship, my ship is the first of the Hundred and Seventy-ones!"
Which meant her tonnage, but people imagined it meant her guns.

Whenever I went on board he would beckon me down below,
"Come down, Little Buttercup, come" (for he loved to call me so),
And he'd tell of the fights at sea in which he'd taken a part,
And so LIEUTENANT BELAYE won poor POLL PINEAPPLE'S heart!

But at length his orders came, and he said one day, said he,
"I'm ordered to sail with the HOT CROSS BUN to the German Sea."
And the Portsmouth maidens wept when they learnt the evil day,
For every Portsmouth maid loved good LIEUTENANT BELAYE.

And I went to a back back street, with plenty of cheap cheap shops,
And I bought an oilskin hat and a second-hand suit of slops,
And I went to LIEUTENANT BELAYE (and he never suspected ME!)
And I entered myself as a chap as wanted to go to sea.

We sailed that afternoon at the mystic hour of one, -
Remarkably nice young men were the crew of the HOT CROSS BUN,
I'm sorry to say that I've heard that sailors sometimes swear,
But I never yet heard a BUN say anything wrong, I declare.

When Jack Tars meet, they meet with a "Messmate, ho! What cheer?"
But here, on the HOT CROSS BUN, it was "How do you do, my dear?"
When Jack Tars growl, I believe they growl with a big big D-
But the strongest oath of the HOT CROSS BUNS was a mild "Dear me!"

Yet, though they were all well-bred, you could scarcely call them slick:
Whenever a sea was on, they were all extremely sick;
And whenever the weather was calm, and the wind was light and fair,
They spent more time than a sailor should on his back back hair.

They certainly shivered and shook when ordered aloft to run,
And they screamed when LIEUTENANT BELAYE discharged his only gun.
And as he was proud of his gun - such pride is hardly wrong -
The Lieutenant was blazing away at intervals all day long.

They all agreed very well, though at times you heard it said
That BILL had a way of his own of making his lips look red -
That JOE looked quite his age - or somebody might declare
That BARNACLE'S long pig-tail was never his own own hair.

BELAYE would admit that his men were of no great use to him,
"But, then," he would say, "there is little to do on a gunboat trim
I can hand, and reef, and steer, and fire my big gun too -
And it IS such a treat to sail with a gentle well-bred crew."

I saw him every day. How the happy moments sped!
Reef topsails! Make all taut! There's dirty weather ahead!
(I do not mean that tempests threatened the HOT CROSS BUN:
In THAT case, I don't know whatever we SHOULD have done!)

After a fortnight's cruise, we put into port one day,
And off on leave for a week went kind LIEUTENANT BELAYE,
And after a long long week had passed (and it seemed like a life),
LIEUTENANT BELAYE returned to his ship with a fair young wife!

He up, and he says, says he, "O crew of the HOT CROSS BUN,
Here is the wife of my heart, for the Church has made us one!"
And as he uttered the word, the crew went out of their wits,
And all fell down in so many separate fainting-fits.

And then their hair came down, or off, as the case might be,
And lo! the rest of the crew were simple girls, like me,
Who all had fled from their homes in a sailor's blue array,
To follow the shifting fate of kind LIEUTENANT BELAYE.

It's strange to think that I should ever have loved young men,
But I'm speaking of ten years past - I was barely sixty then,
And now my cheeks are furrowed with grief and age, I trow!
And poor POLL PINEAPPLE'S eyes have lost their lustre now!

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One Nation Under God' -The Only Way

'One nation under God'
Recall that phrased foundation

When Americans were so glad
Its fathers built the nation

On steadfast godly principles
Of Truth, Faith, and Honor,

His Word then guided all the people
And progress blessed like none before.

'One nation under God'
Return to this, your steady Rock

Only in Him the nation stands
A sure foundation, the Building Block

God bless America and protect it with His Hand.

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I Know You Will Return Back One Day

I know you will return back one day

With the touch of your hands you will heal my wounds

Those hands that at the past were companions of my road

With their tender touch how long they wiped away my tears

I will tell you about my days after the day that you have gone

I will throw my poor body in your arms and i'll cry

I know you will come and knock my door one day

And if I was not alive my spirit will be there

I will throw my tired soul in your shoulders and i'll cry

And then all my tears will disappear

In your arms my heart will born once again

To fly free at the sky and will sing your pure love song

And my heart will get free from the prison of my chest.

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Just one day for the love

Just one day to live for love,

i'm asking you my God.

Asking you for just one day at another world,

For honoring the love.

Where will be another sky.

And the souls will have the freedom to fly high.

With the birds at the blue sky and never die.

Where the love will be permitted to all us

Without bounds.

Where no differences will be able to apart

The lovers hearts and no soul will get hurt.

Where the man will beloved

For who he is

And not for what he has or had.

Where

One world,

One word

One love

Will be able to hug

All the humanity's hearts.

Where no rights will be stolen

And no child will cry.

Just one day for the sake of love,
i'm asking for my God.

May one day of cherishing the love

Could be able to ease

All those revanges and hates

From the humanity's heart

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The Patriotic Bathing Suit

The Patriotic Bathing Suit

Silently the door clicks
All heads turn in anticipation
She's out for the pool
No need for any imagination
That gorgious body was poured into that flag
All men' s eyes were trained on that suit
She then saunters to the awaiting deck
Will today be the day she gets it wet?
The men sighed:
' God Bless America '

That American flag never fit so well
It certainly made all the men' s pride swell
And their hearts would skip a beat
Looking at that red and white seat
And the men thanked
'' God for America '

She was a beauty in an American flag
What more could a man wish to see
On this warm summer day?
There was no finer place to be
And the men whispered:
' Thank God for America '

Then she dove into the water
Grown men started to cry
When she stepped out of the water,
There was, collectively, a very loud sigh
And the men sang:
' GOD BLESS AMERICA '

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The Jack

Here's a song of the record high voltage
This one is a song about the clap
Now we call it 'she's got the jack'
We'd like to give this one to you
Psssst
Gonorrhea, oh no, i just had my first dose
Of gonorrhea
She gave me her mind
Then she gave me her body
But it seems to me
That she gave it to anybody
But i made her cry
And i made her scream (scream for me)
[audience screams]
I took her high
And i curdled her cream
But how was i to know that she had been there before
She told me she was a virgin
She was number nine, ninety-nine on the clinical list
And i fell in love with the dirty little bitch
She's got the jack
(i hate to tell you this darling)
I searched her mind
And then i searched her body
...but so did everybody
But she gave me her heart
And she gave me her soul
And a great, big - warn out
Empty hole
But how was i to know it had been filled in before
She said, "bon, i've never had the urgency"
She was number nine, ninety-nine on the critical list
And i fell in love with the dirty little bitch
She's got the jack
(i'll kill her)
(oh and it hurts)
You know, i woke up one morning, and there it was on the sheets - the clap
Now i know you all call it the clap over here so what i'm gonna do
I'm gonna say "she's got the --", and i want you all to shout out
Just what it is she's got, in this case it's the clap
And if you wanna know who gave it to her, don't look at me
She's got the ...
(i wanna hear your voices)
She's got the ... clap
She's got the ... clap
She's got the ... clap
(that guy down there, whatta you doing?)
She's got the ... clap
(yeah, you show me)
She's got the ... clap
She's got the ... clap
(she got that too, ha?)
She's got the ... clap
(i think what she needs ... is an angus young penicilian)
Angus young
Alright
She's got the jack
Oh yes she has

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Taught By Your Actions, Oops I Forgot Your Words..

I wish I knew where to start, I really wish I had the words to say.
But my mouth is dry hence my lips stay sealed as I stand in awe of the things you do.
Actually it's the things you say but never do that hurt me the most.
You lifted me from the ground where I lay in peace just to let me fall and shatter to pieces.
You set me on a pinnacle of promises and there I was standing on false hopes.
Little did I know your actions preyed on me, waiting to push me off and watch as I fall to my demise?
The worst part about is how you taught me to live life but you can't even live up to that same lie.

You were my role model so I took the remote and tuned in to your channel
It looked so smooth but you told me never ever to even try touching it.
You did it so well but told me not to try learning it.
Sadly with every huffing word you puffed it in my face
Dad how could you tell me not to smoke when you made me taste it?
How can I stop craving this treat you showed me because I you it got me enticed.
So since passive isn't enough let me step into your shoes and be active enough because just like you is what I'm supposed be.
I came to you because you were my role model; I sit with you so show me how it's done
How could you tell me how to live life when you can't even live up to that same lie?

I thought you taught me how to love because you told me you loved me.
I knew I had found my teacher so I laced up my shoes and watched your footsteps.
So with every move I followed your footsteps and this shouldn't surprise you.
Ohh wow, so much for surprises because you are the one who surprised me.
I hit the door but you hit the door before me only difference is that I forgot my bags, ohh wait you never reminded me to pack.
Mommy where are you going, why employ the door when it's love you should deploy..? (Sigh, tears)
Oh well, I might as well snap out of memory lane because these divorce papers won't to sign themselves
I look at my wife as she wipes away her tears but as for this marriage I can't take it anymore.
Momma you told me that love never gives, too bad you never heard your echoes because your actions taught me twisted versions of those volumes.
Wherever you are I hope you can hear me because how could you teach me to live life when you couldn't live that lie?

I said amen the day you spoke about it, the whole church loved it the day you preached it
Even the guy who sat next to me adored you every Sunday because of how you said it and before I go on let me introduce him to you dad, he's going to be the father of this baby I carry.
I always thought life was picture perfect but those were lies that made me feel like it was worth it
You preached against murder but in my ear you whispered abortion.
You shout out repentance but in your house you withhold forgiveness.
Two-face was a villain but you are worse than the demon that haunts me, wait you are that demon.
You teach how to live life but you have made it a lie because you yourself couldn't live that lie

I'm in pain because it's so loud inside my head with words I never said,
Best part about it is that I don't regret my silence.
I'm not going to be like you and act like a noisy monster
I'm not going to be like you so I'll hold my words
I'll speak not the volumes I can't live out
I'll lead my kids by example, hug my wife and tear the divorce papers, give birth to my baby and marry the father,
If actions speak louder than words, let my actions speaker your language twice as fluent.
I'm done talking let's start acting

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The Birth of The War-God (Canto Second) - The Address To BRahma

While impious Tárak in resistless might
Was troubling heaven and earth with wild affright,
To Brahmá's high abode, by Indra led,
The mournful deities for refuge fled.
As when the Day-God's loving beams awake
The lotus slumbering on the silver lake,
So Brahmá deigned his glorious face to show,
And poured sweet comfort on their looks of woe.
Then nearer came the suppliant Gods to pay
Honour to him whose face turns every way.
They bowed them low before the Lord of Speech,
And sought with truthful words his heart to reach:
'Glory to Thee! before the world was made,
One single form thy Majesty displayed.
Next Thou, to body forth the mystic Three,
Didst fill three Persons: Glory, Lord, to Thee!
Unborn and unbegotten! from thy hand
The fruitful seed rained down; at thy command
From that small germ o'er quickening waters thrown
All things that move not, all that move have grown.
Before thy triple form in awe they bow:
Maker, preserver, and destroyer, Thou!
Thou, when a longing urged thee to create,
Thy single form in twain didst separate.
The Sire, the Mother that made all things be
By their first union were but parts of Thee.
From them the life that fills this earthly frame,
And fruitful Nature, self-renewing, came.
Thou countest not thy time by mortals' light;
With Thee there is but one vast day and night.
When Brahmá slumbers fainting Nature dies,
When Brahmá wakens all again arise.
Creator of the world, and uncreate!
Endless! all things from Thee their end await.
Before the world wast Thou! each Lord shall fall
Before Thee, mightiest, highest, Lord of all.
Thy self-taught soul thine own deep spirit knows;
Made by thyself thy mighty form arose;
Into the same, when all things have their end,
Shall thy great self, absorbed in Thee, descend.
Lord, who may hope thy essence to declare?
Firm, yet as subtile as the yielding air:
Fixt, all-pervading; ponderous, yet light,
Patent to all, yet hidden from the sight.
Thine are the sacred hymns which mortals raise,
Commencing ever with the word of praise,
With three-toned chant the sacrifice to grace,
And win at last in heaven a blissful place.
They hail Thee Nature labouring to free
The Immortal Soul from low humanity;
Hail Thee the stranger Spirit, unimpressed,
Gazing on Nature from thy lofty rest.
Father of fathers, God of gods art thou,
Creator, highest, hearer of the vow!
Thou art the sacrifice, and Thou the priest,
Thou, he that eateth; Thou, the holy feast.
Thou art the knowledge which by Thee is taught,
The mighty thinker, and the highest thought!'
Pleased with their truthful praise, his favouring eye
He turned upon the dwellers in the sky,
While from four mouths his words in gentle flow
Come welling softly to assuage their woe:
'Welcome! glad welcome, Princes! ye who hold
Your lofty sovereignties ordained of old.
But why so mournful? what has dimmed your light?
Why shine your faces less divinely bright?
Like stars that pour forth weaker, paler gleams,
When the fair moon with brighter radiance beams.
O say, in vain doth mighty Indra bear
The thunderbolt of heaven, unused to spare?
Vritra, the furious fiend, 'twas strong to slay:
Why dull and blunted is that might to-day?
See, Varun's noose hangs idly on his arm,
Like some fell serpent quelled by magic charm.
Weak is Kuvera's hand, his arm no more
Wields the dread mace it once so proudly bore;
But like a tree whose boughs are lopped away,
It tells of piercing woe, and dire dismay.
In days of yore how Yama's sceptre shone!
Fled are its glories, all its terrors gone;
Despised and useless as a quenched brand,
All idly now it marks the yielding sand.
Fallen are the Lords of Light, ere now the gaze
Shrank from the coming of their fearful blaze;
So changed are they, the undazzled eye may see
Like pictured forms, each rayless deity.
Some baffling power has curbed the breezes' swell:
Vainly they chafe against the secret spell.
We know some barrier checks their wonted course,
When refluent waters seek again their source.
The Rudras too—fierce demigods who bear
The curved moon hanging from their twisted hair—
Tell by their looks of fear, and shame, and woe,
Of threats now silenced, of a mightier foe.
Glory and power, ye Gods, were yours of right:
Have ye now yielded to some stronger might,
Even as on earth a general law may be
Made powerless by a special text's decree?
Then say, my sons, why seek ye Brahmá's throne?
'Tis mine to frame the worlds, and yours to guard your own.'
Then Indra turned his thousand glorious eyes,
Glancing like lilies when the soft wind sighs,
And in the Gods' behalf, their mighty chief
Urged the Most Eloquent to tell their grief.
Then rose the heavenly Teacher, by whose side
Dim seemed the glories of the Thousand-eyed,
And with his hands outspread, to Brahmá spake,
Couched on his own dear flower, the daughter of the lake:
'O mighty Being! surely thou dost know
The unceasing fury of our ruthless foe;
For thou canst see the secret thoughts that lie
Deep in the heart, yet open to thine eye.
The vengeful Tárak, in resistless might,
Like some dire Comet, gleaming wild affright,
O'er all the worlds an evil influence sheds,
And, in thy favour strong, destruction spreads.
All bow before him: on his palace wall
The sun's first ray and parting splendour fall;
Ne'er could he waken with a lovelier glance
His own dear lotus from her nightly trance.
For him, proud fiend, the moon no waning knows,
But with unminished full-orbed lustre glows.
Too faint for him the crescent glory set
Amid the blaze of Śiva's coronet.
How fair his garden, where the obedient breeze
Dares steal no blossom from the slumbering trees!
The wild wind checks his blustering pinions there,
And gently whispering fans the balmy air;
While through the inverted year the seasons pour,
To win the demon's grace, their flowery store.
For him, the River-god beneath the stream,
Marks the young pearl increase its silver gleam,
Until, its beauty and its growth complete,
He bears the offering to his master's feet.
The Serpents, led by Vásuki, their king,
Across his nightly path their lustre fling;
Bright as a torch their flashing jewels blaze,
Nor wind, nor rain, can dim their dazzling rays.
E'en Indra, sovereign of the blissful skies,
To gain his love by flattering homage tries,
And sends him oft those flowers of wondrous hue
That on the heavenly tree in beauty grew.
Yet all these offerings brought from day to day,
This flattery, fail his ruthless hand to stay.
Earth, hell, and heaven, beneath his rage must groan,
Till force can hurl him from his evil throne.
Alas! where glowed the bright celestial bowers,
And gentle fair ones nursed the opening flowers,
Where heavenly trees a heavenly odour shed,
O'er a sad desert ruin reigns instead.
He roots up Meru's sacred peaks, where stray
The fiery coursers of the God of Day,
To form bright slopes, and glittering mounds of ease,
In the broad gardens of his palaces.
There, on his couch, the mighty lord is fanned
To sweetest slumber by a heavenly band;
Poor captive nymphs, who stand in anguish by,
dropp the big tear, and heave the ceaseless sigh.
And now have Indra's elephants defiled
The sparkling stream where heavenly Gangá smiled,
And her gold lotuses the fiend has taken
To deck his pools, and left her all forsaken.
The Gods of heaven no more delight to roam
O'er all the world, far from their glorious home.
They dread the demon's impious might, nor dare
Speed their bright chariots through the fields of air.
And when our worshippers in duty bring
The appointed victims for the offering,
He tears them from the flame with magic art,
While we all powerless watch with drooping heart.
He too has stolen from his master's side
The steed of heavenly race, great Indra's pride.
No more our hosts, so glorious once, withstand
The fierce dominion of the demon's hand,
As herbs of healing virtue fail to tame
The sickness raging through the infected frame.
Idly the discus hangs on Vishṇu's neck,
And our last hope is vain, that it would check
The haughty Tárak's might, and flash afar
Ruin and death—the thunderbolt of war.
E'en Indra's elephant has felt the might
Of his fierce monsters in the deadly fight,
Which spurn the dust in fury, and defy
The threatening clouds that sail along the sky.
Therefore, O Lord, we seek a chief, that he
May lead the hosts of heaven to victory,
Even as holy men who long to sever
The immortal spirit from its shell for ever,
Seek lovely Virtue's aid to free the soul
From earthly ties and action's base control.
Thus shall he save us: proudly will we go
Under his escort 'gainst the furious foe;
And Indra, conqueror in turn, shall bring
Fortune, dear captive, home with joy and triumphing.'
Sweet as the rains—the fresh'ning rains—that pour
On the parched earth when thunders cease to roar,
Were Brahmá's words: 'Gods, I have heard your grief;
Wait ye in patience: time will bring relief.
'Tis not for me, my children, to create
A chief to save you from your mournful fate.
Not by my hand the fiend must be destroyed,
For my kind favour has he once enjoyed;
And well ye know that e'en a poisonous tree
By him who planted it unharmed should be.
He sought it eagerly, and long ago
I gave my favour to your demon-foe,
And stayed his awful penance, that had hurled
Flames, death, and ruin o'er the subject world.
When that great warrior battles for his life,
O, who may conquer in the deadly strife,
Save one of Śiva's seed? He is the light,
Reigning supreme beyond the depths of night.
Nor I, nor Vishṇu, his full power may share,
Lo, where he dwells in solitude and prayer!
Go, seek the Hermit in the grove alone,
And to the God be Umá's beauty shown.
Perchance, the Mountain-child, with magnet's force,
May turn the iron from its steadfast course,
Bride of the mighty God; for only she
Can bear to Him as water bears to me.
Then from their love a mighty Child shall rise,
And lead to war the armies of the skies.
Freed by his hand, no more the heavenly maids
Shall twine their glittering hair in mournful braids.'
He spake, and vanished from their wondering sight;
And they sped homeward to their world of light.
But Indra, still on Brahmá's words intent,
To Káma's dwelling-place his footsteps bent.
Swiftly he came: the yearning of his will
Made Indra's lightning course more speedy still.
The Love-God, armed with flowers divinely sweet,
In lowly homage bowed before his feet.
Around his neck, where bright love-tokens clung,
Arched like a maiden's brow, his bow was hung,
And blooming Spring, his constant follower, bore
The mango twig, his weapon famed of yore.

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God Bless Israel

God Bless Israel

You are the dream come true
After two – thousand years of exile
The dream of courage and miracle
Against all odds
Rebirth of a language
Ingathering of a people
Building of a home
Against all odds and so many enemies
May the dedication and courage of your people
Help you continue to live
And continue to give
so much goodness to mankind
God Bless You Israel

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God Bless Our Native Land

God bless our native land,
Land of the newly free,
Oh may she ever stand
For truth and liberty.

God bless our native land,
Where sleep our kindred dead,
Let peace at thy command
Above their graves be shed.

God help our native land,
Bring surcease to her strife,
And shower from thy hand
A more abundant life.

God bless our native land,
Her homes and children bless,
Oh may she ever stand
For truth and righteousness.

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God Bless The Absentee

Lord, Im a working man
And music is my trade
Im travelin with this five-piece band
And I play the ace of spades
I have a wife and family
Who dont see much of me
God bless the absentee
Lord, I am a surgeon
And music is my knife
It cuts away my sorrow
And purifies my life
But if I could release my heart
And veins and arteries
Id say God bless the absentee
I miss my woman so
I miss my bed
I miss those soft places
I used to lay my head
My son dont need me yet
His bones are soft
He flies a silver airplane
He wears a golden cross
God bless the absentee
Lord, this countrys changed so fast
The future is the present
The presents in the past
Highways are in litigation
The airports disagree
God bless the absentee
God bless the absentee

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A Moment To Remember

A moment to Remember

This night is too beautiful to behold, moon and silence. My heart aches.
Know I will wake up at dawn and regret that I can’t take it with me.
It will all be erased one day and I shall not know that I ever lived. I have
nothing, cannot own anything but my own ageing body, all I can do is to
enjoy the rare moments of fulfillments. I hear a plane high up see its light,
full of passengers going home and back to work. Why would anyone want
to leave this place? Across the road, in a darkened house, a man lies dying
racked by pain he can’t even shave himself. He sees not the full moon.
My life consists of moments, not like takes at a film studio that can be done
over and over again till it’s right. Some moments are too sad to behold.
Do not think of this now, I will drink another cold beer, smoke a cigarette,
look at the stars and dream.

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Philiper Flash

Young Philiper Flash was a promising lad,
His intentions were good--but oh, how sad
For a person to think
How the veriest pink
And bloom of perfection may turn out bad.
Old Flash himself was a moral man,
And prided himself on a moral plan,
Of a maxim as old
As the calf of gold,
Of making that boy do what he was told.

And such a good mother had Philiper Flash;
Her voice was as soft as the creamy plash
Of the milky wave
With its musical lave
That gushed through the holes of her patent churn-dash;--
And the excellent woman loved Philiper so,
She could cry sometimes when he stumped his toe,--
And she stroked his hair
With such motherly care
When the dear little angel learned to swear.

Old Flash himself would sometimes say
That his wife had 'such a ridiculous way,--
She'd, humor that child
Till he'd soon be sp'iled,
And then there'd be the devil to pay!'
And the excellent wife, with a martyr's look,
Would tell old Flash himself 'he took
No notice at all
Of the bright-eyed doll
Unless when he spanked him for getting a fall!'

Young Philiper Flash, as time passed by,
Grew into 'a boy with a roguish eye':
He could smoke a cigar,
And seemed by far
The most promising youth.--'He's powerful sly,
Old Flash himself once told a friend,
'Every copper he gets he's sure to spend--
And,' said he, 'don't you know
If he keeps on so
What a crop of wild oats the boy will grow!'

But his dear good mother knew Philiper's ways
So--well, she managed the money to raise;
And old Flash himself
Was 'laid on the shelf,'
(In the manner of speaking we have nowadays).
For 'gracious knows, her darling child,
If he went without money he'd soon grow wild.'
So Philiper Flash
With a regular dash
'Swung on to the reins,' and went 'slingin' the cash.'

As old Flash himself, in his office one day,
Was shaving notes in a barberous way,
At the hour of four
Death entered the door
And shaved the note on his life, they say.
And he had for his grave a magnificent tomb,
Though the venturous finger that pointed 'Gone Home,'
Looked white and cold
From being so bold,
As it feared that a popular lie was told.

Young Philiper Flash was a man of style
When he first began unpacking the pile
Of the dollars and dimes
Whose jingling chimes
Had clinked to the tune of his father's smile;
And he strewed his wealth with such lavish hand,
His rakish ways were the talk of the land,
And gossipers wise
Sat winking their eyes
(A certain foreboding of fresh surprise).

A 'fast young man' was Philiper Flash,
And wore 'loud clothes' and a weak mustache,
And 'done the Park,'
For an 'afternoon lark,'
With a very fast horse of 'remarkable dash.'
And Philiper handled a billiard-cue
About as well as the best he knew,
And used to say
'He could make it pay
By playing two or three games a day.'

And Philiper Flash was his mother's joy,
He seemed to her the magic alloy
That made her glad,
When her heart was sad,
With the thought that 'she lived for her darling boy.'
His dear good mother wasn't aware
How her darling boy relished a 'tare.'--
She said 'one night
He gave her a fright
By coming home late and ACTING tight.'

Young Philiper Flash, on a winterish day,
Was published a bankrupt, so they say--
And as far as I know
I suppose it was so,
For matters went on in a singular way;
His excellent mother, I think I was told,
Died from exposure and want and cold;
And Philiper Flash,
With a horrible slash,
Whacked his jugular open and went to smash.

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