Lenin said that people vote with their feet. Well, that's what's happening. They either go, or they don't go. It's all politics. It's all demographics.
quote by Warren Beatty
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Lenin's Tomb
This is the yarn he told me
As we sat in Casey's Bar,
That Rooshun mug who scammed from the jug
In the Land of the Crimson Star;
That Soviet guy with the single eye,
And the face like a flaming scar.
Where Lenin lies the red flag flies, and the rat-grey workers wait
To tread the gloom of Lenin's Tomb, where the Comrade lies in state.
With lagging pace they scan his face, so weary yet so firm;
For years a score they've laboured sore to save him from the worm.
The Kremlin walls are grimly grey, but Lenin's Tomb is red,
And pilgrims from the Sour Lands say: "He sleeps and is not dead."
Before their eyes in peace he lies, a symbol and a sign,
And as they pass that dome of glass they see - a God Divine.
So Doctors plug him full of dope, for if he drops to dust,
So will collapse their faith and hope, the whole combine will bust.
But say, Tovarich; hark to me . . . a secret I'll disclose,
For I did see what none did see; I know what no one knows.
I was a Cheko terrorist - Oh I served the Soviets well,
Till they put me down on the bone-yard list, for the fear that I might tell;
That I might tell the thing I saw, and that only I did see,
They held me in quod with a firing squad to make a corpse of me.
But I got away, and here today I'm telling my tale to you;
Though it may sound weird, by Lenin's beard, so help me God it's true.
I slouched across that great Red Square, and watched the waiting line.
The mongrel sons of Marx were there, convened to Lenin's shrine;
Ten thousand men of Muscovy, Mongol and Turkoman,
Black-bonnets of the Aral Sea and Tatars of Kazan.
Kalmuck and Bashkir, Lett and Finn, Georgian, Jew and Lapp,
Kirghiz and Kazakh, crowding in to gaze at Lenin's map.
Aye, though a score of years had run I saw them pause and pray,
As mourners at the Tomb of one who died but yesterday.
I watched them in a bleary daze of bitterness and pain,
For oh, I missed the cheery blaze of vodka in my brain.
I stared, my eyes were hypnotized by that saturnine host,
When with a start that shook my heart I saw - I saw a ghost.
As in foggèd glass I saw him pass, and peer at me and grin -
A man I knew, a man I slew, Prince Boris Mazarin.
Now do not think because I drink I love the flowing bowl;
But liquor kills remorse and stills the anguish of the soul.
And there's so much I would forget, stark horrors I have seen,
Faces and forms that haunt me yet, like shadows on a screen.
And of these sights that mar my nights the ghastliest by far
Is the death of Boris Mazarin, that soldier of the Czar.
A mighty nobleman was he; we took him by surprise;
His mother, son and daughters three we slew before his eyes.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert William Service
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That Joke Isnt Funny Anymore
Park the car at the side of the road
You should know
Times tide will smother you
And I will too
When you laugh about people who feel so
Very lonely
Their only desire is to die
Well, Im afraid
It doesnt make me smile
I wish I could laugh
But that joke isnt funny anymore
Its too close to home
And its too near the bone
Its too close to home
And its too near the bone
More than youll ever know ...
Kick them when they fall down
Kick them when they fall down
You kick them when they fall down
Kick them when they fall down
You kick them when they fall down
Kick them when they fall down
You kick them when they fall down
Kick them when they fall down
It was dark as I drove the point home
And on cold leather seats
Well, it suddenly struck me
I just might die with a smile on my
Face after all
Ive seen this happen in other peoples
Lives
And now its happening in mine
Ive seen this happen in other peoples
Lives
And now its happening in mine
Ive seen this happen in other peoples
Lives
And now its happening in mine
Ive seen this happen in other peoples
Lives
And now its happening in mine
Oh ...
Ive seen this happen in other peoples
Lives
Oh ...
And now its happening in mine
Happening in mine
Happening in mine
Happening in mine
Happening in mine
[...] Read more
song performed by Smiths
Added by Lucian Velea
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Would You Stop It? !
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for you that fills a need?
Or would you stop it,
From not happening.
Would you stop it from not happening?
Would you let that love that's happening,
Be for you that fills a need?
Or would you block it,
From not happening.
Could you block it from not happening?
Conflicting feelings...
Bring on its own pain.
When one turns down what's needed
And they can't admit the needing.
Conflict of feelings,
Is...
What no one needs.
Not a conflict that has meaning,
With some feelings felt unseen.
When one turns down what is needed
And they can't admit the need.
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for you that fills a need?
Or...
Would you block it,
From not happening?
Would you stop it from not happening,
If we both admit the need...
And let it happen.
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for us what we need.
Or would you let that love that's happening...
Not to be seen.
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for you that fills a need?
Or would you block it...
From not happening.
Or would you stop it from not happening.
Not to be ever seen.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Vote For Me
Vote for me, vote for me
I want the nomination for the presidency
Vote for me, vote for me
If I am elected, this is how it will be
Ill cut your tax in half
Ill make the russians laugh
Ill feed the hungry people everywhere
Ill bring the railroads back
New trains and new track
From waikiki to old deleware
Vote for me, vote for me
I want the nomination for the presidency
Vote for me, vote for me
If I am elected, this is how it will be
Ill give detroit one year
New cars that run on beer
Or anything except gasoline
Im looking to the sun
More power for everyone
And the cleanest sky that youve ever seen
Im not going to kid you, theres a lot to do
Little can I promise, its really up to you
But if we all work together
And I think we can
And if you want some new ideas
Then Im your man
Vote for me, vote for me
I want the nomination for the presidency
Vote for me, vote for me
If I am elected, this is how it will be
Ill work for global peace
And the sweet release
Of the love and human kindness in us all
I would give all Ive got
You just give me a shot
Somehow, I know that I can win the fall
song performed by Chicago
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Vote
A single vote may be your victory………..
my vote create the world i live.......a vote that brings my
future near to the distance i see
my vote holds me to achieve..... a reality of my dream to
Conquer, grasp according to my wish
my vote change the chaos i encounter.......a life saving
design of what will be tomorrow of my destiny
my vote wonder every breathe.......a victory to where to
go, beyond uncertain pathways
my vote remember my aspiration.....a longing of joy and
happiness, wonting to know of peace
my vote brings my life......a remembrance of my life of
today, a parting print of my thumbs forever
…..please let my vote be seen, touch and listen for the
wings of the ink, has whisper the truth of what will be
the beginning of history, made this print easy to
count my vote in you is you’re……. victory
poem by Antonio Liao
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Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan
I
In a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,
There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things to shout about,
And knock your old blue devils out.
I brag and chant of Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan,
Candidate for president who sketched a silver Zion,
The one American Poet who could sing outdoors,
He brought in tides of wonder, of unprecedented splendor,
Wild roses from the plains, that made hearts tender,
All the funny circus silks
Of politics unfurled,
Bartlett pears of romance that were honey at the cores,
And torchlights down the street, to the end of the world.
There were truths eternal in the gap and tittle-tattle.
There were real heads broken in the fustian and the rattle.
There were real lines drawn:
Not the silver and the gold,
But Nebraska's cry went eastward against the dour and old,
The mean and cold.
It was eighteen ninety-six, and I was just sixteen
And Altgeld ruled in Springfield, Illinois,
When there came from the sunset Nebraska's shout of joy:
In a coat like a deacon, in a black Stetson hat
He scourged the elephant plutocrats
With barbed wire from the Platte.
The scales dropped from their mighty eyes.
They saw that summer's noon
A tribe of wonders coming
To a marching tune.
Oh the longhorns from Texas,
The jay hawks from Kansas,
The plop-eyed bungaroo and giant giassicus,
The varmint, chipmunk, bugaboo,
The horn-toad, prairie-dog and ballyhoo,
From all the newborn states arow,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on.
The fawn, prodactyl, and thing-a-ma-jig,
The rackaboor, the hellangone,
The whangdoodle, batfowl and pig,
The coyote, wild-cat and grizzly in a glow,
In a miracle of health and speed, the whole breed abreast,
The leaped the Mississippi, blue border of the West,
From the Gulf to Canada, two thousand miles long:-
Against the towns of Tubal Cain,
[...] Read more
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Adam Lambert Gay or Straight Part 1
Rewrite of the hit Katy Perry song, Hot N' Cold
Don't change your mind about voting for him
Just because sometimes he likes to get dressed up
In women's clothes
Yeah, for him, I'm sending out this urgent S.O.S.
Winning this show can be a b, I know
But still I think he deserves the title
More than that other lame he-ho
So no need to overthink
Or speak of him overly critically
'Cause by now I think we all know
He's the one to let be
Idol's 2009 rockstar for sure
So if you think he's hot
Then don't you be so cold
Say yes to him
Never no
Take him in
Into your heart
Even through he's come out
Cheer him on
Vote him up
Don't let him down
Leave behind that prejudice wrong
To embrace what's right
Vote for Adam and show the world
Rather he's gay or he's straight
His talent is all that really matters tonight
Before our superstar came along
Idol used to be to me
Just like that old boy band, N'Sync
Empty of anything orignal
Lacking that spark of energy
Now that's all changed
Thanks to him
Lighting up that stage like a non-stop energizer battery
Used to think this reality show hype was all about nothin'
Just so plain boring
Now I know better
That thanks to him it can all change
So if you think he's hot
Then don't you be so cold
Say yes to him
Never no
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Whats Really Happening
Grown inside a plastic box
Micro thoughts and safety locks
Hearts become outdated clocks
Ticking in your mind
Now its time to close our eyes
Now its time to say goodbye
Now its time to face the lie
That wed never cry
Whats really happening, what tore us apart
Whats really happening
Whats really happening, what tore us apart
Whats really happening
All the clouds are made of glass
And theyre slowly sinking
Falling like the shattered past
Were we built to last?
Whats really happening, what tore us apart
Whats really happening
Whats really happening, what tore us apart
Whats really happening
Now its time to close our eyes
Now its time to say goodbye
Now its time to face the lie
That wed never cry
Whats really happening, what tore us apart
Whats really happening
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Aunt Chloe
.
I remember, well remember,
.
That dark and dreadful day,
.
When they whispered to me, "Chloe,
.
Your children's sold away!" 1.
It seemed as if a bullet
.
Had shot me through and through,
.
And I felt as if my heart-strings
.
Was breaking right in two. 1.
And I says to cousin Milly,
.
"There must be some mistake;
.
Where's Mistus?" "In the great house crying --
.
Crying like her heart would break. 1.
"And the lawyer's there with Mistus;
.
Says he's come to 'ministrate,
.
'Cause when master died he just left
.
Heap of debt on the estate. 1.
"And I thought 'twould do you good
.
To bid your boys good-bye --
.
To kiss them both and shake their hands,
.
And have a hearty cry. 1.
"Oh! Chloe, I knows how you feel,
.
[...] Read more
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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A Series of Tubes
That there Internet thingy
is like a series of tubes
All the smart fellas
in the hole world
got tagether and
they put smart stuff in them tubes
An now all ya gotta do
to larn stuff
is getcha self connected to that
Internet thingy
(You will need a computer for this)
(and some other stuff + electricty)
They you can pull stuff
up from them tubes
smart reading stuff
(if ya like that kinda thing)
or even important stuff
like how to knock down your old barn or shed
or even how to build a real bomb
(not for knocking down the barn though)
I know all this cause my congress man talked about it on TV
And George W. Bush says so two (I think cause he outta no)
The End (only the end of this poem)
If you like this poem a whole lot I think you should vote 9-10
(mostly 10 i hope)
If you like it some but not the very most maybe vote 6-8
(but you could still vote 9 or 10 to be nice)
If you only think it is middlin they go head and vote 5
(cause that's in the middle of 1-10)
If you kinda don't care for it you could vote it a 2,3, or 4
(that would be kinda low though)
If you hate this poem then you are left with only a 1
(there are no zero votes)
(But I think a 1 vote is not called for unless you are pretty mean though the last time I looked this was still a free country so you can vote 1 if that is how your mind runs)
Thanks for voting or not. (and tell your friends if you liked this poem)
probably don't tell them if you did not vote more than a 5
Billy Bob
poem by Billy Bob Noes
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Find Out Whats Happening
(words & music by j. crutchfield)
Baby you know me well
You know I mean what I say
Before I say farewell
Ill give you just another day
Youd better find out whats happening
Find out whats happening before long, oh yeah
If you dont find out whats happening
Youre gonna find out that Ive gone now, oh yeah
Tell me what youre gonna do
Youd better make up your mind
It all depends on you
Im leaving you behind
Youd better find out whats happening
Find out whats happening before long, oh yeah
If you dont find out whats happening
Youre gonna find out that Ive gone now, oh yeah
Baby you know its true
Weve been through thick and thin
But if you dont come through
You wont ever see me again
Youd better find out whats happening
Find out whats happening before long, oh yeah
If you dont find out whats happening
Youre gonna find out that Ive gone now, oh yeah
Youd better find, find, better find out
Better find out
Better find, better find out
Better find, better find out
If you dont find, youre gonna find out that Im gone
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cold Feet
There was a little boy once upon a time
Who in spite of his young age and small size knew his mind
For every copper penny and clover he would find
Make a wish for better days the end of hard times
For no more cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
His clothes were always clean
His face was always scrubbed
There was food on the table enough to fill him up
His house was full of life - his house was full of love
But when winter days arrived
There was never money enough to shod his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He grew up to be a worker determined to succeed
He made a life for himself, free from worldly wants or needs
But with nobody to share the life hed made
No body to keep him warm at night
When hed go to sleep hed sleep alone with his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
One night he walked the street looking to the heavens above
Searching for a shooting star a benevolent god
When a woman passing by brushed his arm
He turned and found love
He then wished for the courage to ask this stranger
Who she was to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought shed like the party life and want the finer things
So he promised more than he could buy
And he promised her the sun and moon to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He worked day and night his fingers to the bone
Hi worried mind guilty conscience drive him on
He cant give her what she needs
He wants to give her what he thinks she wants
Her sad-eyed face, his empty pockets drive him on and his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Hed struggled all his life to be an honest man
Proud that the dirt on his palms was the soil of the land
But some guys he knew from high school days
Said they had a plan to get rich quick
And they could count him in if he dont have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought about their offer accepted it without qualms
Dreamt about the life hed buy
The comfort that would come without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He decided to tell his wife things would soon turn around
He said the little boy is dead
A man stands with you now without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
[...] Read more
song performed by Tracy Chapman
Added by Lucian Velea
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The God-Forgotten Election
Pat M'Durmer brought the tidings to the town of God-Forgotten :
‘There are lively days before ye—commin Parlymint’s dissolved!’
And the boys were all excited, for the State, of course, was ‘rotten,’
And, in subsequent elections, God-Forgotten was involved.
There was little there to live for save in drinking beer and eating;
But we rose on this occasion ere the news appeared in print,
For the boys of God-Forgotten, at a wild, uproarious meeting,
Nominated Billy Blazes for the commin Parlymint.
Other towns had other favourites, but the day before the battle
Bushmen flocked to God-Forgotten, and the distant sheds were still;
Sheep were left to go to glory, and neglected mobs of cattle
Went a-straying down the river at their sweet bucolic will.
William Spouter stood for Freetrade (and his votes were split by Nottin),
He had influence behind him and he also had the tin,
But across the lonely flatlands came the cry of God-Forgotten,
‘Vote for Blazes and Protection, and the land you’re living in!’
Pat M‘Durmer said, ‘Ye schaymers, please to shut yer ugly faces,
‘Lend yer dirty ears a momint while I give ye all a hint:
‘Keep ye sober till to-morrow and record yer vote for Blazes
‘If ye want to send a ringer to the commin Parlymint.
‘As a young and growin’ township God-Forgotten’s been neglected,
‘And, if we’d be ripresinted, now’s the moment to begin—
‘Have the local towns encouraged, local industries purtected:
‘Vote for Blazes, and Protection, and the land ye’re livin’ in.
‘I don’t say that William Blazes is a perfect out-an’ outer,
‘I don’t say he have the larnin’, for he never had the luck;
‘I don’t say he have the logic, or the gift of gab, like Spouter,
‘I don’t say he have the practice—BUT I SAY HE HAVE THE PLUCK!
‘Now the country’s gone to ruin, and the Governments are rotten,
‘But he’ll save the public credit and purtect the public tin;
‘To the iverlastin’ glory of the name of God-Forgotten
‘Vote for Blazes and Protection, and the land ye’re livin’ in!’
Pat M‘D. went on the war-path, and he worked like salts and senna,
For he organised committees full of energy and push;
And those wild committees riding through the whisky-fed Gehenna
Routed out astonished voters from their humpies in the bush.
Everything on wheels was ‘rinted,’ and half-sobered drunks were shot in;
Said M‘Durmer to the driver, ‘If ye want to save yer skin,
‘Never stop to wet yer whistles—drive like hell to God-Forgotten,
‘Make the villains plump for Blazes, and the land they’re livin, in.’
Half the local long-departed (for the purpose resurrected)
Plumped for Blazes and Protection, and the country where they died;
So he topped the poll by sixty, and when Blazes was elected
There was victory and triumph on the God-Forgotten side.
Then the boys got up a banquet, and our chairman, Pat M‘Durmer,
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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Lenin lived, Lenin lives, Lenin will live.
quote by Kim Il sung
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ghosts
Said Lenin's ghost to Stalin's ghost:
"Mate with me in the Tomb;
Then day by day the rancid host
May gaze upon our doom.
A crystal casket we will share;
Come, crusty Comrade come,
And we will bear the public stare,
Ad nauseum."
Said Stalin's spook to Lenin's spook:
"Long have you held your place.
The masses must be bored to look
Upon your chemic face.
A change might be a good idear,
And though I pity you,
There is within the Tomb, I fear,
No room for two."
Said Lenin's wraith to Stalin's wraith:
"You're welcome to my job;
Let millions of our mighty faith
Gaze on your noble nob.
So when to goodly earth I've gone,
(And I'll be glad to go),
Your carrion can carry on
Our waxwork show."
poem by Robert William Service
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Vote for the Future of Big Bird
Please vote for the future of our children.
Vote to fund PBS, an oasis of knowledge, get even
On Election Day. Vote for Sesame Street,
Vote for Main Street, not Wall Street.
Vote for the re-election of the President,
Who supports student loans for our college students.
Vote for the man who is a strong proponent
Of investing in America, and in the future of our citizens.
The Hedge Fund Managers have sufficient money;
The wealthy ought to pay their fair share of taxes accordingly.
Vote for Big Bird and Main Street,
An tell Wall Street that the party is over,
No more business as usual; it is over.
Give a chance to Big Bird and Main Street.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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The Deliverance
Master only left old Mistus
One bright and handsome boy;
But she fairly doted on him,
He was her pride and joy.
We all liked Mister Thomas,
He was so kind at heart;
And when the young folkes got in scrapes,
He always took their part.
He kept right on that very way
Till he got big and tall,
And old Mistus used to chide him
And say he'd spile us all.
But somehow the farm did prosper
When he took things in hand;
And though all the servants liked him,
He made them understand.
One evening Mister Thomas said,
'Just bring my easy shoes;
I am going to sit by mother,
And read her up the news.'
Soon I heard him tell old Mistus
We're bound to have a fight;
But we'll whip the Yankees, mother,
We'll whip them sure as night!'
Then I saw old Mistus tremble;
She gasped and held her breath;
And she looked on Mister Thomas
With a face as pale as death.
'They are firing on Fort Sumpter;
Oh! I wish that I was there! -
Why, dear mother! what's the matter?
You're the picture of despair.'
'I was thinking, dearest Thomas,
'Twould break my very heart
If a fierce and dreadful battle
Should tear our lives apart.'
'None but cowards, dearest mother,
Would skulk unto the rear,
When the tyrant's hand is shaking
All the heart is holding dear.'
[...] Read more
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Christ at Carnival
THE hand of carnival was at my door,
I listened to its knocking, and sped down:
Faith was forgotten, Duty led no more:
I heard a wonton revelry in the town;
The Carnival ran in my veins like fire!
And some unfrustrable desire
Goaded me on to catch the roses thrown
From breast to breast, and with my own
Fugitive kiss to snatch the fugitive kiss;
I broke all faith for this
One wild and worthless hour,
To dance, to run, to beckon, as a flower
Maddens the bee with half-surrendering,
Then flies back in the air with petals shut.
Fainting with laughter and pursuit
I heard shrill winds leap out and sink again,
Tracking the green bed where the Spring hath lain,
And vanished from, whose feet made audible
Music among the tall trees on the hill.
Above me leaned a nightingale
Burdened and big with song, whose throat let fall
Long notes, so poignant and so musical,
I deemed his young mate, listening,
Heard him less passionately sing
Than I a-foot at Carnival!
Above the town, swart Night came rolling in
Upon her couch of heliotrope:
A new Moon, young and thin,
Lay like a Columbine
Teasing the spent hill, her old Harlequin,
She, who of late waned on the bitter sky,
Furtive and old, a woman without hope,
Begging in long-familiar streets, where Sin
Once seeking her, now shuddered and went by.
Caught in the meshes of a merry throng,
I stumbled through the lighted Market Place;
The lanterns swung an undetermined rose
In Night's convulsive face
As we were swept along
In crazy dance and song,--
On through the mirth-mad alleys of the town,
With shrill loud laughter tumbled roughly down,
Whirled up in swift embrace.
All, all went swinging, swaying in the revel,
Laughing and reeling, kissing each and all--
A crowd that wildest jesting did dishevel--
O mad night of Carnival!
[...] Read more
poem by Muriel Stuart
Added by Poetry Lover
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Ballad Of A Thin Man
You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, who is that man?
You try so hard
But you dont understand
Just what youll say
When you get home
Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?
You raise up your head
And you ask, is this where it is?
And somebody points to you and says
Its his
And you say, whats mine?
And somebody else says, where what is?
And you say, oh my god
Am I here all alone?
Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?
You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, how does it feel
To be such a freak?
And you say, impossible
As he hands you a bone
Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?
You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations
Youve been with the professors
And theyve all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
Youve been through all of
F. scott fitzgeralds books
Youre very well read
Its well known
Because something is happening here
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song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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