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Cadillacs are down at the end of the bat.

quote by Ralph Kiner
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Night Of The Cadillacs

Blinded by a million shades
I couldnt see their eyes
I couldnt see their eyes
The eyes of the crazies who drive
I couldnt see their eyes
I couldnt see their eyes
Chrome and plastic wheeled star-fighters
Smiled the psycho pink late nighters
Taking terror to the west end
As the heroes from the east end
Come down to shake the street
On the night of the cadillacs
On the night of the cadillacs
Shaken by a certain vibe
I couldnt read their minds
I couldnt read their minds
The minds of the devils who ride
I couldnt read their minds
I couldnt read their minds
Gleam amp spray canned wild stallions
Manic horsemen drag technicians
Radiators eat the west end
More trophies for the east end
Come round to mince the meat
On the night of the cadillacs
On the night of the cadillacs
Salute as they go by
The ones about to die
Salute as they go by
The ones about to die
Driven by a rock and roll sound
I couldnt reach their ears
I couldnt reach their ears
Driven by a rock and roll sound
I couldnt reach their ears
I couldnt reach their ears
Pinkies versus sidewalk killers
Berserk ballet of taunting thrillers
Mad marauders for the west end
Dread the duellists from the east end
Come watch the new elite
On the night of the cadillacs
On the night of the cadillacs
On the night of the cadillacs
On the night of the cadillacs
On the night of the cadillacs

song performed by Billy Idol
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Bat Out Of Hell (edit)

The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling,
way down in the valley tonight.
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye,
and a blade shining oh so bright.
There's evil in the air and there's thunder in sky,
and A killer's on the bloodshot streets.
Oh and down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising,
Oh I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter,
He was starting to foam in the heat.
Oh baby you're the only thing in this whole world,
that's pure and good and right.
And wherever you are and wherever you go,
there's always gonna be some light.
But I gotta get out,
I gotta break it out now,
Before the final crack of dawn.
So we gotta make the most of our one night together.
When it's over you know,
We'll both be so alone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the night is over
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone gone gone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
But when the day is done and the sun goes down,
and the moonlights shining through,
Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram,
on a silver black phantom bike.
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry,
and we're all about to see the light.
Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole.
Everything is stunted and lost.
And nothing really rocks
And nothing really rolls
And nothing's ever worth the cost.
And I know that I'm damned if I never get out,
And maybe I'm damned if I do,
But with every other beat I've got left in my heart,
You know I'd rather be damned with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanns be damned,
dancing through the night with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned.
Gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned,
Dancing through the night
Dancing through the night

[...] Read more

song performed by Meat Loaf
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Cat and Bat's Revenge

The day the cat
and the bat
ate the rat
'Now peace b'coz we don't need to fight
for the rat'
said the cat.
'OK.' said the bat who hanging upside down on the wall
his shadow looking grand and tall
but the rats of the other world were scared
b'coz one of them read
the agreement
now the fastest mouse made a plan
to cut the wires of the fan
so it fell on the cat,
but the bat
took the rat and ate all his fat
the rats were frightened
so they sent another robotic rat
to outwit the bat and cat
now the plan was ready
and it was also fine
but unluckily came the bad pine
of the tree
which always helped the cat and the bat flee
from the rats net
which would always fail b'coz of the bat's friend the pine tree
who would help them see
the wicked plans of the rats
and tell them to all the bats
oh poor rats
getting all eaten up by cats(and bats)
then came the wisest rat sniper the 'sniper'
he went and cut the tree
and didn’t let the cat
and the bat flee
he threw a pan
on the fan
which hit the cat
and the bat
on thier heads
so now they are saved
from the cat
and bat
but now what?
here comes a rat
who's on the side of the cat
and the bat
the wisest mouse got him in the team again and put him to deep
sleep
so the cat and the bat

[...] Read more

poem by anonym
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De Bat

(carly simon)
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Well i hope de bat don't come out and fly in me face tonight
Well i come home from a party
And i'm feelin' a little spaced
And i walk on in the kitchen and
A bat fly in me face
Well de bat come down the chimney
You see he wait in the fireplace
When he hear that i'm getting a little snack
De bat fly in me face
(chorus)
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Well i hope de bat he don't come out
And fly in me face tonight
De bat he rat got wings
All the children know that
What i need to know from the lord
Is how you get de wings on the cat
They say a bat's got radar
And he can fly through fan
But what i am afraid of is
That he got another plan
To fly in me face
Fly in me face
(chorus)
Well i hope de bat he don't come out
And fly in me face tonight
Fly in me face
One thing i forgot to tell you about the human race
Everybody get a little upset when a bat fly in they face
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Well i hope de bat he don't come out
And fly in me face tonight

song performed by Carly Simon
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De Bat (Fly In My Face)

Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Well I hope de bat don't come out and fly in me face tonight
Well I come home from a party
And I'm feelin' a little spaced
And I walk on in the kitchen and
A bat fly in me face
Well de bat come down the chimney
You see he wait in the fireplace
When he hear that I'm getting a little snack
De bat fly in me face
(Chorus)
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Well I hope de bat he don't come out
And fly in me face tonight
De bat he rat got wings
All the children know that
What I need to know from the lord
Is how you get de wings on the cat
They say a bat's got radar
And he can fly through fan
But what I am afraid of is
That he got another plan
To fly in me face
Fly in me face
(Chorus)
Well I hope de bat he don't come out
And fly in me face tonight
Fly in me face
One thing I forgot to tell you about the human race
Everybody get a little upset when a bat fly in they face
Fly in me face
Fly in me face
Well I hope de bat he don't come out
And fly in me face tonight

song performed by Carly Simon
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Analysis Of Baseball

It’s about
the ball,
the bat,
and the mitt.
Ball hits
bat, or it
hits mitt.
Bat doesn’t
hit ball, bat
meets it.
Ball bounces
off bat, flies
air, or thuds
ground (dud)
or it
fits mitt.

Bat waits
for ball
to mate.
Ball hates
to take bat’s
bait. Ball
flirts, bat’s
late, don’t
keep the date.
Ball goes in
(thwack) to mitt,
and goes out
(thwack) back
to mitt.

Ball fits
mitt, but
not all
the time.
Sometimes
ball gets hit
(pow) when bat
meets it,
and sails
to a place
where mitt
has to quit
in disgrace.
That’s about
the bases
loaded,
about 40,000

[...] Read more

poem by May Swenson
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Healthy Back Bag

animated bag of chips
amor dive bag
american eagle outfitters bags
ambag poly bags wholesale
american airlines bag limits
american beauty plastic bag theme mp3
amf bowling bag
aluminum tab weave bag
ampac tote bags
american trails atv bag
american tourister bonneville ii garment bag
alt ieri bassoon bag
almond flavored tea bags
ameribag shoulder bags
a mco saddel bags 1977
an enema bag for men
amulet bag book
analyse art falconers bag
amy butler sweet life bag
alto sax bag
alpha kappa alpha diva tote bag
amylou bag in eureka ca
ani hand bags
american west rodeo bags
amex insurance for delayed bags
an interchangeable foundation bag
al verio martini bags
animal bag mp3
american trail ventures atv cargo bags
aluminium coated plastic bags
amy butlet runaway bag pattern
angel bag
animae bop bag
allowed to carry on garment bag
a nimal bag print tote
an imal overnight bag
aloksak bags
amz bag fun src
ameribag microfiber bag
american tourister laptop bag
allied waste service blue bags
american indian medicine bags
alternative to plastic trash bags
amish buggy bag
alpha poly bag
ammo shoulder bag
american sign language tote bags
animated gif people with hand bags
amazing bag grace pipe
altieri bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Singing Bat

A bird was caught inside a trap
which closed its claws with a loud snap.
The snap was heard by Fritz the cat
who had been stalking a young bat.

The bat was hanging from a tree
had wrapped around a twig his knee.
'AHA', the cat now saw the bird
it was a finch, and it occurred

to Fritz the cat that here was food
enough to lift a feline's mood.
He'd eat the bird right in the trap
and afterward take a short nap.

The finch had lifted up his wing
and, full of love, began to sing.
He figured if this day meant death
he'd entertain with his last breath.

The cat was just about to eat
when that sweet voice, now in defeat,
sang, in e-flat the Lorelei
and Fritz the cat began to cry.

And if you know a thing or two
perhaps from visits to the Zoo:
A cat can either eat or cry,
not both. And trapped birds cannot fly.

The bat, who had observed the drama
in upside-down-like panorama,
approached because this tearful issue
required help and Kleenex tissue.

The closest thing to tissue though
is bat-wing skin and if you blow
across the tears toward the wing
a bat will likely start to sing.

And, right away, that's what transpired,
the bat sang loudly. And inspired
the cat to see him as a meal,
complete with musical appeal.

The bat soon sang of Mother Goose,
predictably, tied his own noose.
Was eaten by the hungry cat,
it's Nature's way when cat eats bat.

[...] Read more

poem by anonym
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The Greatest

Little boy, in a baseball hat stands in the field with his ball and bat.
Says, "I am the greatest player of them all" puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ball.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
Now the little boy doesn't say a word, picks up his ball, he is undeterred.
Says, "I am the greatest there has ever been" and he grits his teeth and he tries it again.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
He makes no excuses, he shows no fear, he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers.
Little boy, he adjusts his hat, picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says,"I am the greatest, the game is on the line" and he gives his all one last time.
And the ball goes up and the moon so bright, swings his bat with all his might
The world's as still, as still can be, the baseball falls and that's strike three.
Now it's suppertime and his momma calls, little boy starts home with his bat and ball.
Says, "I am the greatest, that is a fact, but even I didn't know I could pitch like that!"
Says, "I am the greatest,that is understood, but even I didn't know I could pitch that good!

song performed by Kenny Rogers
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Auguries of Innocence after William Blake Auguries of Innocence - The Bat

Auguries of Innocence I

The bat that blocked will fall, Time’s sway
will bowl both balls and pads away.

Auguries of Innocence II

The bat that flits too close will leave
a brain too tight, which won’t believe...

Auguries of Innocence III

The bat that sucks will even out
red, white, - leave blue without a doubt...

[c] Jonathan Robin parody William Blake Auguries of Innocence – The Bat 29 July 1991 – Parodies Robert BLAKE – Auguries of Innocence

_____________

Auguries of Innocence – The Bat

The bat that flits at close of eve
has left the brain that won’t believe.

Auguries

The bat that blocks at close of play
stays on to hit another day.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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M'Sieu Smit

THE ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISHMAN IN THE CANADIAN WOODS.

Wan morning de walkim boss say 'Damase,
I t'ink you're good man on canoe d'ecorce,
So I'll ax you go wit' your frien' Philéas
An' meet M'sieu' Smit' on Chenail W'ite Horse.

'He'll have I am sure de grosse baggage--
Mebbe some valise--mebbe six or t'ree--
But if she's too moche for de longue portage
'Poleon he will tak' 'em wit' mail buggee.'

W'en we reach Chenail, plaintee peep be dere,
An' wan frien' of me, call Placide Chretien,
'Splain all dat w'en he say man from Angleterre
Was spik heem de crowd on de 'Parisien.'

Fonny way dat Englishman he'll be dress,
Leetle pant my dear frien' jus' come on knee,
Wit' coat dat's no coat at all--only ves'
An' hat--de more stranger I never see!

Wall! dere he sit on de en' some log
An' swear heem in English purty loud
Den talk Français, w'ile hees chien boule dog
Go smellim an' smellim aroun' de crowd.

I spik im 'Bonjour, M'sieu' Smit', Bonjour,
I hope dat yourse'f and famille she's well?'
M'sieu Smit' he is also say 'Bonjour,'
An' call off hees dog dat's commence for smell.

I tell heem my name dat's Damase Labrie
I am come wit' Philéas for mak' de trip,
An' he say I'm de firs' man he never see
Spik English encore since he lef' de ship.

He is also ax it to me 'Damase,
De peep she don't seem understan' Français,
W'at's matter wit' dat?' An' I say 'Becos
You mak' too much talk on de Parisien.'

De groun she is pile wit' baggage--Sapré!
An' I see purty quick we got plaintee troub--
Two tronk, t'ree valise, four-five fusil,
An' w'at M'sieu Smit' he is call 'bat' tubbe.'

M'sieu Smit' he's tole me w'at for's dat t'ing,
An' it seem Englishman he don't feel correc'

[...] Read more

poem by William Henry Drummond
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The Mincer

Health-food faggot with a bartered bride
Likes to comb his hair with a dipper ride
Once had a friend with a cloven foot
Once he called the tune in a chequered quit
Great Deceiver
In the door on the floor in a paper bag
There's a shoe-shine boy with a gin-shop slag
She raised him up and she called him son
And she canonised the ground that he walked upon
Great Deceiver
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary
Cigarettes, ice cream, cadillacs blue jeans
In the night he's a star in the Milky Way
He's a man of the world by the light of day
A golden smile and a proposition
And the breath of God smells of sweet sedition
Great Deceiver
Sing hymns make love get high fall dead
He'll bring his perfume to your bed
He'll charm your life 'til the cold winds blow
Then he'll sell your dreams to a picture show
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary
Cadillacs, blue jeans, dixieland playing on the ferry
Cadillacs, blues jeans, drop a glass full of antique sherry

song performed by King Crimson
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The Great Deceiver

Health-food faggot with a bartered bride
Likes to comb his hair with a dipper ride
Once had a friend with a cloven foot
Once he called the tune in a chequered quit
Great deceiver
In the door on the floor in a paper bag
Theres a shoe-shine boy with a gin-shop slag
She raised him up and she called him son
And she canonised the ground that he walked upon
Great deceiver
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the virgin mary
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the virgin mary
Cigarettes, ice cream, cadillacs blue jeans
In the night hes a star in the milky way
Hes a man of the world by the light of day
A golden smile and a proposition
And the breath of God smells of sweet sedition
Great deceiver
Sing hymns make love get high fall dead
Hell bring his perfume to your bed
Hell charm your life til the cold winds blow
Then hell sell your dreams to a picture show
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the virgin mary
Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the virgin mary
Cadillacs, blue jeans, dixieland playing on the ferry
Cadillacs, blues jeans, drop a glass full of antique sherry

song performed by King Crimson
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A Cat, A Bat, A Rat and A Mat

A cat and a bat
Were sitting on a large mat,
Trying to make dinner
Of a small, little rat.

The cat said to the rat,
'I and not the bat will eat your fat'.
'No' said the rat to the cat and the bat,
'Neither of you'll will eat me or my fat”.

The bat said to the cat,
“Go ahead, Yar and eat quickly the slippery rat.”
The cat looked around and said to the bat,
“OK, but where is the God-damn rat? ”

Peeping from a hole in the wall
Said the slippery rat,
“Bon Appetit, my dear fat cat!
But it is time for my evening nap! '

poem by anonym
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Horashoot - The Bridge

HORASHOOT
SAPARI TAMAH TAMIMAH
SAPARI NOGIL BATEMAH
SAPARI TAMAH TAMIMAH
SAPARI NOGIL BATEMAH
BAT MLACHIM HACHACHOMAH
ON MAGOMECH SAPARI LI
BAT MLACHIM HACHACHOMAH
ON MAGOMECH SAPARI LI
HORASHOOT BA'AMAT NATUNAH
LOCH SHALEMET HAHATUNAH
HORASHOOT BA'AMAT NATUNAH
LOCH SHALEMET HAHATUNAH
AL YASITECH TZOR MAMUNAH
BAT WA'AL YASIG DZHAVULI
AL YASITECH TZOR MAMUNAH
BAT WA'AL YASIG DZHAVULI
OH, OH, OH, OH
DILANI YA SAHAYA
DILANI FANA GABIYA
DILANI YA SAHAYA
DILANI FANA GABIYA
WAFHAM IFHAM LA TEAYA
AN TARIK ANDAR CHALILI
WAFHAM IFHAM LA TEAYA
AN TARIK ANDAR CHALILI
OH, OH, OH, OH
We can cross the bridge together
To cross the bridge forever,
We can cross the bridge together
LOCH SHALEMET HAHATUNAH
AL YASITECH TZOR MAMUNAH
BAT WA'AL YASIG AHA AHA AHAWAY
AHA AHA AHAWAY...

song performed by Ofra Haza
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12: Witches' Sabbath

Now, when the moon slid under the cloud
And the cold clear dark of starlight fell,
He heard in his blood the well-known bell
Tolling slowly in heaves of sound,
Slowly beating, slowly beating,
Shaking its pulse on the stagnant air:
Sometimes it swung completely round,
Horribly gasping as if for breath;
Falling down with an anguished cry . . .
Now the red bat, he mused, will fly;
Something is marked, this night, for death . . .
And while he mused, along his blood
Flew ghostly voices, remote and thin,
They rose in the cavern of his brain,
Like ghosts they died away again;
And hands upon his heart were laid,
And music upon his flesh was played,
Until, as he was bidden to do,
He walked the wood he so well knew.
Through the cold dew he moved his feet,
And heard far off, as under the earth,
Discordant music in shuddering tones,
Screams of laughter, horrible mirth,
Clapping of hands, and thudding of drums,
And the long-drawn wail of one in pain.
To-night, he thought, I shall die again,
We shall die again in the red-eyed fire
To meet on the edge of the wood beyond
With the placid gaze of fed desire . . .
He walked; and behind the whisper of trees,
In and out, one walked with him:
She parted the branches and peered at him,
Through lowered lids her two eyes burned,
He heard her breath, he saw her hand,
Wherever he turned his way, she turned:
Kept pace with him, now fast, now slow;
Moving her white knees as he moved . . .
This is the one I have always loved;
This is the one whose bat-soul comes
To dance with me, flesh to flesh,
In the starlight dance of horns and drums . . .

The walls and roofs, the scarlet towers,
Sank down behind a rushing sky.
He heard a sweet song just begun
Abruptly shatter in tones and die.
It whirled away. Cold silence fell.
And again came tollings of a bell.

* * * * *

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Casey at the Bat

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that--
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped--
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

[...] Read more

poem by Ernest Lawrence Thayer
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How McDougal Topped The Score

A peaceful spot is Piper's Flat. The folk that live around -
They keep themselves by keeping sheep and turning up the ground;
But the climate is erratic, and the consequences are
The struggle with the elements is everlasting war.
We plough, and sow, and harrow - then sit down and pray for rain;
And then we get all flooded out and have to start again.
But the folk are now rejoicing as they ne'er rejoiced before,
For we've played Molongo cricket, and M'Dougal topped the score!

Molongo had a head on it, and challenged us to play
A single-innings match for lunch - the losing team to pay.
We were not great guns at cricket, but we couldn't well say, "No!"
So we all began to practise, and we let the reaping go.
We scoured the Flat for ten miles round to muster up our men,
But when the list was totalled we could only number ten.
Then up spoke big Tim Brady: he was always slow to speak,
And he said - "What price M'Dougal, who lives down at Cooper's Creek?"

So we sent for old M'Dougal, and he stated in reply
That he'd never played at cricket, but he'd half a mind to try.
He couldn't come to practise - he was getting in his hay,
But he guessed he'd show the beggars from Molongo how to play.
Now, M'Dougal was a Scotchman, and a canny one at that,
So he started in to practise with a pailing for a bat.
He got Mrs Mac. to bowl him, but she couldn't run at all,
So he trained is sheep-dog, Pincher, how to scout and fetch the ball.

Now, Pincher was no puppy; he was old, and worn, and grey;
But he understood M'Dougal, and - accustomed to obey -
When M'Dougal cried out "Fetch it!" he would fetch it in a trice,
But, until the word was "Drop it!" he would grip it like a vice.
And each succeeding night they played until the light grew dim:
Sometimes M'Dougal struck the ball - and sometimes the ball struck him!
Each time he struck, the ball would plough a furrow in the ground,
And when he missed the impetus would turn him three times round.

The fatal day at length arrived - the day that was to see
Molongo bite the dust, or Piper's Flat knocked up a tree!
Molongo's captain won the toss, and sent his men to bat,
And they gave some leather-hunting to the men from Piper's Flat.
When the ball sped where M'Dougal stood, firm planted in his track,
He shut his eyes, and turned him round, and stopped it - with his back!
The highest score was twenty-two, the total sixty-six,
When Brady sent a yorker down which scattered Johnson's sticks.

Then Piper's Flat went in to bat, for glory and renown,
But, like the grass before the scythe, our wickets tumbled down.
"Nine wickets down for seventeen, with fifty more to win!"
Our captain heaved a heavy sigh, and sent M'Dougal in.
"Ten pounds to one you'll lose it!" cried a barracker from town;

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas E. Spencer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Cadillac Jack Favor

(clint black/hayden nicholas)
Hes cadillac jack favor and the name rings true
If hes got a ride any stranger would too
The one bad habit that his ponder would say
Is sure gonna put him through the trials one day
And thats just what happened he took pity on two men
Heading down to louisiana, he stopped and let them in
And the thanks he did for helping them
Would make him wish he was busting broncs again
He dropped them off in bossieer city where they met up with a man
That vagabond commitee barely even had a plan
It was just a simple robbery turned double homicide
They got away with murder itd be someone elses hide
Almost two years come and gone they never solved that crime
til they found one of our vagabonds already doing time
When that jailbird started singing they all knew the words were wrong
But the sheriff and the da and the judge all sang along
They pinned it on jack favor, gave him life without parole
Gave jacks freedom to the jailbird, payment on the lies he told
Just so happens that election year everybody payed out at the polls
Cadillacs no fallen hero and hes never gonna break
When it comes to prison rodeo, therell be no easy eight
And if you want the definition of the picture-perfect frame
Itd be in the dictionary underneath jack favors name
Cadillacs no fallen hero and hes never gonna break
When it comes to prison rodeo, theres still no easy eight
And if you want the definition of the picture-perfect frame
Itd be in the dictionary underneath jack favors name
Yeah, its the worlds most crooked picture and when it comes to being framed
Cadillac jack favor should be in the hall of fame

song performed by Clint Black
Added by Lucian Velea
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Seventh Street

Money burns the pocket, pocket hurts,
Bootleggers in silken shirts,
Ballooned, zooming Cadillacs,
Whizzing, whizzing down the street-car tracks.

Seventh Street is a bastrad of Prohibition and the War. A crude-boned, soft-skinned wedge of nigger life breathing its loafer air, jazz songs and love, thrusting unconscious rhythms, black reddish blood into the white and whitewashed wood of Washington. Stale soggy wood of Washington. Wedges rust in soggy wood. . . Split it! In two! Again! Shred it! . . the sun. Wedges are brilliant in the sun; ribbons of wet wood dry and blow away. Black reddish blood. Pouring for crude-boned soft-skinned life, who set you flowing? Blood suckers of the War would spin in a frenzy of dizziness if they drank your blood. Prohibition would put a stop to it. Who set you flowing? White and whitewash disappear in blood. Who set you flowing? Flowing down the smooth asphalt of Seventh Street, in shanties, brick office buildings, theaters, drug stores, restaurants, and cabarets? Eddying on the corners? Swirling like a blood-red smoke up where the buzzards fly in heaven? God would not dare to suck black red blood. A Nigger God! He would duck his head in shame and call for the Judgement Day. Who set you flowing?

Money burns the pocket, pocket hurts,
Bootleggers in silken shirts,
Ballooned, zooming Cadillacs,
Whizzing, whizzing down the street-car tracks.

poem by Jean Toomer
Added by Poetry Lover
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