One player practicing sportsmanship is far better than fifty preaching it.
quote by Knute Rockne
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Related quotes
That Fifty Year Old Woman
That fifty year old woman
she is someones mother
that fifty year old woman
she is someones lover
them fifty years of her life
unseen by a cover.
Covered by the leaves
from the autumn trees is the grass
surrounded by blue tape
and nosey people who pretend to pass
a group of actors walk by
they have come from a history class
to make history new
with conversation with questions to ask.
A fifty year old woman
in an autumn so cold
a fifty year old woman
seen dark winter unfold
them fifty years of life
it is all we are told.
The actors, they didn't get any information
they did not get pictures
nothing known about the situation
nothing at all to discuss
fifty years of age is all thats said
on the morning paper on the fifty bus
thats all thats said
a fifty year old woman, shes found dead.
That fifty year old woman
shes not someones mother
that fifty year old woman
how she had no lover
them fifty years of life
unseen by a cover.
That fifty year old woman
she was quoted in the paper today
that fifty year old woman will be gone tomorrow
the writers they will show no sorrow
because its the way things work
as people pass
she no longer lies on grass
shes covered in dirt.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Street Player
Ill never forget those aimless years
Street sounds swirling through my mind
Trouble was often in the air
So we fought to forget our despair
Im a street player
And Ill play you a song
cause you know, my heart & soul
Will carry, carry on
Carry on
Carry on
Carry on
City lifes the only way
Street corners and billiard halls was our home away
Lessons learned still help me today
Im a street player
Ive seen it all
Hitmen, thieves and many a brawl
But as you see I still stand tall
It was such a small space in time
I never knew that I would find
A musical path for all to see
Anxiety into ecstacy
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Ive seen it all
Hitmen, thieves and many a brawl
But as you see I still stand tall
It was such a small space in time
I never knew that I would find
A musical path for all to see
Anxiety into ecstacy
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
song performed by Chicago
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Fifty Cents A Day
I am an humble Soldier
far from my friends and home,
mid scenes of war and hardships
I constantly must roam,
with many officers over me,
and them I must obey,
and do just what they tell me,
for fifty cents a day.
I enlisted in the army
to help my country's cause,
because I loved it dearly,
and would sustain its laws,
I felt a free man's duty,
his country to obey,
I came not as a hireling,
for fifty cents a day
I enlisted as a soldier.
a free man and a man
To do a soldiers duty,
as best a soldier can.
hope to fight the rebels,
and hate this long delay.
I came to help my country,
for fifty cents a day.
I now must yield to hardships
in cold in storm and rain
perchance with scanty rations
not even then complain
the right of seeking comfort
long since I signed away
my life I am slowly losing
for fifty cents a day.
who send the soldiers to the field
to buy his willing hand,
with promises so plentiful,
of treatment like a man?
twas those who, in two days,
received a larger pay
than does the soldiers in a month
at fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldier,
his wrongs should be redressed
if tyanny or officers
should his right oppress?
alas! the sword may smight him,
[...] Read more
poem by Shauna Stoltz
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Art Of Heartbreak
Music: j. allen
Lyrics: hall/s. allen/j. allen
Try to ignore the twisted side
We kiss and we hiss at the same time
Dont you know some things just dont blow away
Youve been this way before, but the cuts just seem to hurt me more
Could be a reason for the difference...
Youve been practicing
The art of heartbreak
Practing
The art of heartbreak
Anticipating what shes aching for
Im being edgy leave her wanting more
Anyone might think wed rather be alone
Yeah, shes been cut before by sharp things Ive been saying so long
I cant believe the way she takes it
Ive been practicing
The art of heartbreak
Practicing
The art of heartbreak
Why do we make it hard, been hitting back and forth for so long
What are we aiming at, theres no score in love
I bet a million bucks she knows but wont let up on me, so
Ive just decided to stop
Practicing the art of heartbreak
Practicing
The art of heartbreak
Weve been practicing
song performed by Hall & Oates
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Straight Cold Player
I'm a straight cold player
Just a straight cold player
Straight cold prayer
Ouah !
Just a straight cold player
Just a straight cold player
Straight cold player
Ouah!
I'm a straight cold player
I'm just a straight cold player
Straight cold player
I'm just a straight cold player
song performed by Lenny Kravitz from 5
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I'll Be Your Player [Remix]
Yeah Committee remix you can't beat us (who you is fool?)
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars (like that)
Being that I'm... (x4)
Real I feel you need a man in your life child
Somebody black baldheaded plus buckwild
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars
A real woman scholar
If a players what you want lil' momma holla
Yeah I'ma holla through you looking good
So Trick what you wanna do
I asked my girls if all the player talk was true
They told me yeah girl, hurry up and make your move
Now can I be your lover
Don't bother asking your friends about my Benz and ends
Unless you planning on me staying yeah
I get my freak on, plus my back strong
No more sad songs for long girl your daddy's home
I'll be your player
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(If a players what you want lil' momma holla)
So Trick you a player Boo
I like your game if you want I'm available
I'll get you sprung off the way I use my tounge ohhhh
I'll get you hot when my lips touch your spot
I'll lick you like a lollipop, damn I can hardly stop
You make me scream, yell, holla (who you wit'?)
Trick Daddy Dollars
I turn you on when I touch your chest
And you turn me on when you kiss my neck
Nothing less than deep penetration
Anticipation, lets make it happen, I'm sick of waiting
Daddy, you know you possess the key
So where you want it
Right here on the side of me
I'll be your player
(chorus)
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(they call me Trick Daddy Dollars)
I need a player, to hold me tight all through the night
(If a player's what you want lil' momma holla
See I suduce you wit' your legs up
First we bone and get it on, all night long, on and on
Then I continue when you draw straw
Make your heart be stoning til' you climb the wall
You taste so sweet, from your head to your feet
It's my treat so baby girl ?
Call me Freaky Deaky cause I want to be your servant
And while I'm serving, I'll slap you up a serving
[...] Read more
song performed by Trick Daddy
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'll Be Your Player [Remix]
Yeah Committee remix you can't beat us (who you is fool?)
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars (like that)
Being that I'm... (x4)
Real I feel you need a man in your life child
Somebody black baldheaded plus buckwild
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars
A real woman scholar
If a players what you want lil' momma holla
Yeah I'ma holla through you looking good
So Trick what you wanna do
I asked my girls if all the player talk was true
They told me yeah girl, hurry up and make your move
Now can I be your lover
Don't bother asking your friends about my Benz and ends
Unless you planning on me staying yeah
I get my freak on, plus my back strong
No more sad songs for long girl your daddy's home
I'll be your player
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(If a players what you want lil' momma holla)
So Trick you a player Boo
I like your game if you want I'm available
I'll get you sprung off the way I use my tounge ohhhh
I'll get you hot when my lips touch your spot
I'll lick you like a lollipop, damn I can hardly stop
You make me scream, yell, holla (who you wit'?)
Trick Daddy Dollars
I turn you on when I touch your chest
And you turn me on when you kiss my neck
Nothing less than deep penetration
Anticipation, lets make it happen, I'm sick of waiting
Daddy, you know you possess the key
So where you want it
Right here on the side of me
I'll be your player
(chorus)
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(they call me Trick Daddy Dollars)
I need a player, to hold me tight all through the night
(If a player's what you want lil' momma holla
See I suduce you wit' your legs up
First we bone and get it on, all night long, on and on
Then I continue when you draw straw
Make your heart be stoning til' you climb the wall
You taste so sweet, from your head to your feet
It's my treat so baby girl ?
Call me Freaky Deaky cause I want to be your servant
And while I'm serving, I'll slap you up a serving
[...] Read more
song performed by Trick Daddy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ethics for Infants
Now, children, in this lesson of a rather novel sort
Let us dwell, however briefly, on the moral phase of sport,
Taking cricket, for example, and those vague unwritten laws
Which, when observed, bring harmony, and help the noble cause
Of sportsmanship; but, understand, opinions given here
And rules of conduct specified are just as they appear.
To me and sundry others who see eye to eye with me
While 'tis candidly admitted other folk may disagree.
Eample one: When bowling we'll suppose, without intent,
You hurt a batsman badly so that half his strength be spent.
Now, the law, as I conceive it; is to give the man a chance
And to treat him rather gently while he flounders in trance.
That's sportsmanship, true sportsmanship as it appears to me;
Tho', as I have remarked before, some folk may disagree.
They would set a leg trap for him and attack him out of hand!
But that's a trick that you and I could never understand.
Example two: When bowling you have got a batsman out
But the umpire has not seen it, and the issue is in doubt;
The batsman gets the benefit and profits by the same.
And you? Why you regard it as the fortune of the game.
But, should you lose your temper and show plainly you are peeved,
Well, I and who thnk like me would be just a little grieved,
A little bit ashamed, you know, or so it seems to me,
Tho' remember clearly, children, other folk may disgaree.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Papa Luv It A. K. A Poppa Luv It
Intro:
I do this for you baby
Papa luv it do, yknowimsayin
Mmm,
(do you want to be a player) yeah
(then you got to have that flavour)
More of that mr.smith flavour, bust ya brain right quick, yknow
(do you got to be right) second move yknowimsayin?
(at all times? ) yeah, all the time, all good
Verse 1:
Uhh, thats the sound of the man
Workin with the mic in my hand
Ready or not here I come
Its another one (damn, not another one) yeah
We bring it just like dat (like dat)
Droppin triple platinum flavour on the drum tap
Dog a donut nice and crafty
Poke your lips out sassy when you ask me
Special request is granted (aah)
Head all slanted, (uhh) the gym has planted
(so what you tellin me youre too smooth to pop? )
If it pops should I stop fore it drops?
Who knows? who goes? who flows?
Me and you? (yeah) just remember boo
(I promise Ill remember) everything I do girl
(I promise) I do it for you, word is bond (I know) word is bond
Chorus:
Papa luv it way she does it
(do you wanna be a player? ) uh
Papa luv it way she does it
(then you got to have that flavour) yeah
Papa luv it way she does it
(do you got to be right)
(at all times) papa luv it way she does it
*repeat*
Verse 2:
Feel it, hold out your hands (and) open up (damn)
Now let it flow from both cups (aw man)
Is he good? (no doubt) all the time, miss
Is he right? (no doubt) one of a kind, miss
Now tell me what you really talkin bout in three words or less
Ladies (get it out) like this
I luv it when I give it to you raw, baby
Hate to hurt but hurtin makes you crazy (crazy)
Its my duty to dig booby
Make a video (yo, you mean my own movie) yup
You can star, here we are
Theres ya blow, let it flow, you already know
Undress slow, I drop a lil french on ya
Then geronimo!
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
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Player
So there U are
About time U showed up
Yea, I know what U heard
But let me talk
Baby, take a look outside your window
And see your future standing there
I've been here 4 a while now, baby
Or maybe U weren't aware
I knew that U heard every single story
About all the friends that I've got
But baby, if U give me 7 years of your time
All the friends I would have not
CHORUS:
Player - If I had U girl, I wouldn't be one
Player - If U'd let me in the mix, we could have fun
Player - If life was a movie, U'd have the main part
Girl, U're number one with a bullet on my charts
Don't make me say I need U like a begger man
Why don't U let me come inside?
I'm the type of male that a girl like U is in need of
Sho' U right
I could take U sailing in a glass bottom boat
U could drink wine while I read poems that I wrote
I'm sick of fishing in the big sea, baby
I wanna check out the settling down
I wanna dock my boat in your fairway
In your kisses I wanna drown {x3}
CHORUS
If I had U girl, I wouldn't be one
Friends, whatever they told U, they lied
My life's an open book, I ain't got nothing 2 hide
I need U like a begger, yeah, I got no pride
Open your heart, let me come inside
CHORUS
Baby, take a look outside your window
And see your future standing there
I've been here 4 a while now, baby
Or maybe U wouldn't care
I knew that U heard every single story
About all the friends that I've got
But baby, if U give me 7 years of your time
All the friends I will have not
Player - If I had U girl, I wouldn't be one
Player - If U'd let me in the mix, we could have fun
Player - If life was a movie, U'd have the main part
Cuz girl, U're number one with a bullet on my charts
Player {x3}
So that's my day in court
song performed by Prince
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Canto the First
I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.
II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.
III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.
V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Be Cool
If theres one rule to this game
Everybodys gonna name
Its, be cool!
If youre worried or uncertain
If your feelings are hurtin
Youre a fool if you cant keep cool
Charm em
Dont alarm em
Keep things light
Keep your worries out of sight
And play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
If your heart is on the floor
Cause youve just seen your lover
Comin through the door with a new fool--
Be cool
Dont get riled
Smile-keep it light
Be your own best friend tonight
And play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
Dont get jealous
Dont get over-zealous
Keep your cool
Dont whine
Kiss of that flaky valentine
Youre nobodys fool
Be cool fool
Be cool
(lots of other fish in the sea)
Play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
So if theres one rule to this game
Everybodys gonna name
Its--be cool
If youre worried or uncertain
If your feelings are hurtin
Youre a fool if you cant keep cool
They want you to
Charm em
Dont alarm em
Keep things light
Keep your worries out of sight
And play it cool
[...] Read more
song performed by Joni Mitchell
Added by Lucian Velea
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Biting Those Lips
Why are you biting your lips?
'I am practicing.'
So you are learning to keep your mouth shut?
'I said I was 'practicing'.
And as far as keeping my mouth shut...
That is a learning process.
And I did say I was practicing.
I did not say I was learning anything...
Yet! '
Practice makes perfect,
You know?
'Who said anything about wanting to be perfect?
There are too many rehearsing that right now.
With questionable results I am sure will be delivered.
And I am practicing biting my lips,
In the event 'that' becomes a necessity.
And once that becomes discovered as one of my skills,
Well...
Only 'then' will I begin rehearsing perfection,
To overwhelm those disbelieving...
I have yet revealed another talent no one can deny.'
I see.
Well...
You keep biting those lips,
Okay?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Northumberland Betrayed by Douglas
'How long shall fortune faile me nowe,
And harrowe me with fear and dread?
How long shall I in bale abide,
In misery my life to lead?
'To fall from my bliss, alas the while!
It was my sore and heavye lott:
And I must leave my native land,
And I must live a man forgot.
'One gentle Armstrong I doe ken,
A Scot he is, much bound to mee;
He dwelleth on the Border side,
To him I'll goe right privilie.'
Thus did the noble Percy 'plaine,
With a heavy heart and wel-away,
When he with all his gallant men
On Bramham moor had lost the day.
But when he to the Armstrongs came,
They dealt with him all treacherouslye;
For they did strip that noble erle,
And ever an ill death may they dye!
False Hector to Earl Murray sent,
To shew him where his guest did hide,
Who sent him to te Lough-leven,
With William Douglas to abide.
And when he to the Douglas came,
He halched him right courteouslie;
Say'd, 'Welcome, welcome, noble earle,
Here thou shalt safelye bide with mee.'
When he had in Lough-leven been
Many a month and many a day,
To the regent the lord warden sent,
That banisht erle for to betray.
He offered him great store of gold,
And wrote a letter fair to see,
Saying, 'Good my Lord, grant me my boon,
And yield that banisht man to mee.'
Erle Percy at the supper sate,
With many a goodly gentleman;
The wylie Douglas then bespake,
And thus to flyte with him began.
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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At A Meeting Of Friends
AUGUST 29, 1859
I REMEMBER--why, yes! God bless me! and was it so long ago?
I fear I'm growing forgetful, as old folks do, you know;
It must have been in 'forty--I would say 'thirty-nine--
We talked this matter over, I and a friend of mine.
He said, 'Well now, old fellow, I'm thinking that you and I,
If we act like other people, shall be older by and by;
What though the bright blue ocean is smooth as a pond can be,
There is always a line of breakers to fringe the broadest sea.
'We're taking it mighty easy, but that is nothing strange,
For up to the age of thirty we spend our years like Change;
But creeping up towards the forties, as fast as the old years fill,
And Time steps in for payment, we seem to change a bill.'
'I know it,' I said, 'old fellow; you speak the solemn truth;
A man can't live to a hundred and likewise keep his youth;
But what if the ten years coming shall silver-streak my hair,
You know I shall then be forty; of course I shall not care.
'At forty a man grows heavy and tired of fun and noise;
Leaves dress to the five-and-twenties and love to the silly boys;
No foppish tricks at forty, no pinching of waists and toes,
But high-low shoes and flannels and good thick worsted hose.'
But one fine August morning I found myself awake
My birthday:--By Jove, I'm forty! Yes, forty, and no mistake!
Why, this is the very milestone, I think I used to hold,
That when a fellow had come to, a fellow would then be old!
But that is the young folks' nonsense; they're full of their
foolish stuff;
A man's in his prime at forty,--I see that plain enough;
At fifty a man is wrinkled, and may be bald or gray;
I call men old at fifty, in spite of all they say.
At last comes another August with mist and rain and shine;
Its mornings are slowly counted and creep to twenty-nine,
And when on the western summits the fading light appears,
It touches with rosy fingers the last of my fifty years.
There have been both men and women whose hearts were firm and bold,
But there never was one of fifty that loved to say 'I'm old';
So any elderly person that strives to shirk his years,
Make him stand up at a table and try him by his peers.
Now here I stand at fifty, my jury gathered round;
Sprinkled with dust of silver, but not yet silver-crowned,
[...] Read more
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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A Ballad, Shewing How An Old Woman Rode Double, And Who Rode Before Her
The Raven croak'd as she sate at her meal,
And the Old Woman knew what he said,
And she grew pale at the Raven's tale,
And sicken'd and went to her bed.
Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with speed,
The Old Woman of Berkeley said,
The monk my son, and my daughter the nun
Bid them hasten or I shall be dead.
The monk her son, and her daughter the nun,
Their way to Berkeley went,
And they have brought with pious thought
The holy sacrament.
The old Woman shriek'd as they entered her door,
'Twas fearful her shrieks to hear,
Now take the sacrament away
For mercy, my children dear!
Her lip it trembled with agony,
The sweat ran down her brow,
I have tortures in store for evermore,
Oh! spare me my children now!
Away they sent the sacrament,
The fit it left her weak,
She look'd at her children with ghastly eyes
And faintly struggled to speak.
All kind of sin I have rioted in
And the judgment now must be,
But I secured my childrens souls,
Oh! pray my children for me.
I have suck'd the breath of sleeping babes,
The fiends have been my slaves,
I have nointed myself with infants fat,
And feasted on rifled graves.
And the fiend will fetch me now in fire
My witchcrafts to atone,
And I who have rifled the dead man's grave
Shall never have rest in my own.
Bless I intreat my winding sheet
My children I beg of you!
And with holy water sprinkle my shroud
And sprinkle my coffin too.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Southey
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The Rosciad
Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.
Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
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Soccer Rollback
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Cowboy Dan
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
Hes gonna start a war
He hops in his pickup puts the pedal to the floor
And says I got mine but I want more
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
He drove the desert, fired his rifle in the sky
And says, God if I have to die you will have to die
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes the the reservation drinks and gets mean
I didnt move to the city, the city moved to me
And I want out desperately
Cant do it, not even if sober
Cant get that engine turned over
Standing in the tall grass
Thinking nothing
You know we need oxygen to breath
Whenever you are walking youre just moving the ground
Whenever you are talking youre just moving your mouth
Where ever you look youre just looking down
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
Hes gonna start a war
He hops in his pickup puts the pedal to the floor
And says I got mine but I want more
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes to the reservation drinks and gets mean
He drove the desert, fired his rifle in the sky
And says, God if I have to die you will have to die
Well, cowboy dans a major player in the cowboy scene
He goes the the reservation drinks and gets mean
I didnt move to the city, the city moved to me
And I want out desperately
Cant do it, not even if sober
Cant get that engine turned over
song performed by Modest Mouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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