The Red Retreat
Tramp, tramp, the grim road, the road from Mons to Wipers
(I've 'ammered out this ditty with me bruised and bleedin' feet);
Tramp, tramp, the dim road -- we didn't 'ave no pipers,
And bellies that was 'oller was the drums we 'ad to beat.
Tramp, tramp, the bad road, the bits o' kiddies cryin' there,
The fell birds a-flyin' there, the 'ouses all aflame;
Tramp, tramp, the sad road, the pals I left a-lyin' there,
Red there, and dead there. . . . Oh blimy, it's a shame!
A-singin' "'Oo's Yer Lady Friend?" we started out from 'Arver,
A-singin' till our froats was dry -- we didn't care a 'ang;
The Frenchies 'ow they lined the way, and slung us their palaver,
And all we knowed to arnser was the one word "vang";
They gave us booze and caporal, and cheered for us like crazy,
And all the pretty gels was out to kiss us as we passed;
And 'ow they all went dotty when we 'owled the Marcelaisey!
Oh, Gawd! Them was the 'appy days, the days too good to last.
We started out for God Knows Where, we started out a-roarin';
We 'ollered: "'Ere We Are Again", and 'struth! but we was dry.
The dust was gummin' up our ears, and 'ow the sweat was pourin';
The road was long, the sun was like a brazier in the sky.
We wondered where the 'Uns was -- we wasn't long a-wonderin',
For down a scruff of 'ill-side they rushes like a flood;
Then oh! 'twas music 'eavenly, our batteries a-thunderin',
And arms and legs went soarin' in the fountain of their blood.
For on they came like bee-swarms, a-hochin' and a-singin';
We pumped the bullets into 'em, we couldn't miss a shot.
But though we mowed 'em down like grass, like grass was they a-springin',
And all our 'ands was blistered, for our rifles was so 'ot.
We roared with battle-fury, and we lammed the stuffin' out of 'em,
And then we fixed our bay'nets and we spitted 'em like meat.
You should 'ave 'eard the beggars squeal; you should 'ave seen the rout of 'em,
And 'ow we cussed and wondered when the word came: Retreat!
Retreat! That was the 'ell of it. It fair upset our 'abits,
A-runnin' from them blighters over 'alf the roads of France;
A-scurryin' before 'em like a lot of blurry rabbits,
And knowin' we could smash 'em if we just 'ad 'alf a chance.
Retreat! That was the bitter bit, a-limpin' and a-blunderin';
All day and night a-hoofin' it and sleepin' on our feet;
A-fightin' rear guard actions for a bit o' rest, and wonderin'
If sugar beets or mangels was the 'olesomest to eat.
Ho yus, there isn't many left that started out so cheerily;
There was no bands a-playin' and we 'ad no autmobeels.
Our tummies they was 'oller, and our 'eads was 'angin' wearily,
And if we stopped to light a fag the 'Uns was on our 'eels.
That rotten road! I can't forget the kids and mothers flyin' there,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert William Service
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Ditty Wah Ditty
(arthur blake)
Theres a great big mistery
And it sure is worrying me
Its a ditty wah ditty
Mister ditty wah ditty
I wished somebody would tell me what ditty wah ditty means
I went out and walked around
Somebody yelled, now whos in town ?
Mister ditty wah ditty
Mister ditty wah ditty
I wished somebody would tell me what ditty wah ditty means
Some little girl bout four-feet-four
Said, come on, papa, and gimme some mo
Your ditty wah ditty
Your ditty wah ditty
I wished somebody would tell me what ditty wah ditty means
I went to church, put my hat on the seat
A lady sat on it and said, daddy you sho is sweet
Mister ditty wah ditty
Mister ditty wah ditty
I wished somebody would tell me what ditty wah ditty means
I said, sister, Ill soon be gone
Just give me that thing that youre sitting on
My ditty wah ditty
Mister ditty wah ditty
I wished somebody would tell me what ditty wah ditty means
Then I got put outta the church
cause I talked about ditty wah ditty too much
Mister ditty wah ditty
Mister ditty wah ditty
I wished somebody would tell me what ditty wah ditty means
song performed by Ry Cooder
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Cryin Through The Night
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Hear me cryin through the night
I am lonely, downhearted and sad
cause Ive lost the best woman that I ever had
To a fiend of mine
Just cant figure out how it could be
That somebody like him could take her away from me
And its on my mind
Nearly all the time
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Hear me cryin through the night
Now I know just how best friends can be
cause he made sure you knew your best was with me
And its on my mind
Heres a lesson much greater than wealth
Keep your business to you, yourself and no one else
And your smiling eyes
Wont be cryin like mine
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Im weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Oh, oh, yeah
Hear me cryin, cryin, Im cryin, cryin
Im cryin baby, cryin baby, yeah
Even a fool can tell
[...] Read more
song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Drums of Battersea
They can’t hear in West o’ London, where the worst dine with the best—
Deaf to all save lies and laughter, they can’t hear in London West—
Tailored brutes and splendid harlots, and the parasites that be—
They can’t hear the warning thunder of the Drums of Battersea.
More drums! War drums!
Drums of Misery—
Beating from the hearts of men—the Drums of Battersea.
Where the hearses hurry ever, and where man lives like a beast,
They can feel the war-drums beating—men of Hell! and London East.
And the far-off foreign farmers, fighting fiercely to be free,
Found new courage in the echo of the Drums of Battersea.
More drums! War drums!
Beating for the free—
Beating on the hearts of men—the Drums of Battersea.
And the drummers! Ah! the drummers!—stern and haggard men are those
Standing grimly at their meetings; and their washed and mended clothes
Speak of worn-out wives behind them and of grinding poverty—
But the English of the English beat the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of agony—
The big bruised heart of England’s in the Drums of Battersea.
Where in fields slave Englishwomen, Oh! the sound of drums is there:
I have heard it in the laughter of the nights of Leicester Square—
Sailing southward with the summer, London but a dream to me,
Still I feel the distant thunder of the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of Liberty—
Rolling round the English world—the Drums of Battersea.
Oh! I heard them in the Queen’s Hall—aye! and London heard that night—
While we formed up round the leaders while they struck one blow for right!
And the old strength, that old fire, that I thought was dead in me,
Blazed up fiercely at the beating of the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
They beat for victory—
When above the roar of Jingoes rolled the Drums of Battersea.
And where’er my feet may wander, and howe’er I lay my head,
I shall hear them while I’m dreaming—I shall hear them when I’m dead!
For they beat for men and women, beat for Christ, and you and me:
There is hope and there is terror in the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of destiny—
There’s hope!—there’s hope for England in the Drums of Battersea.
poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
She Said
One - two - three - four - five - six - seven -
Eight - nine - ten - eleven - twelve - yes!
Yeeah! yeeah! yeeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah! yeah!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move to the rhythm!
Get down!
She said move!
Allright!
Im just rocking to the, rocking to the rythm of a groovy,
Rocking to the, rocking to the beat i, beat i,
Rocking to the, rocking to the, rocking to the beat i,
Rocking to the rythm of a groovy beat, beat, beat, beat,
Beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
Rocking to the, rocking to the beat i, beat i,
Rocking to the, rocking to the, rocking to the beat i,
Rocking to the rythm of a groovy beat, beat, beat, beat,
Beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
Im just rocking to the, rocking to the rythm of a groovy,
Rocking to the, rocking to the beat i, beat i,
Rocking to the, rocking to the, rocking to the beat i,
Rocking to the rythm of a groovy beat, beat, beat, beat,
Beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat.
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move to the rythm!
Get down!
She said move!
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it,
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it!
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it,
Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move, move, move to the rythm!
She said move to the rythm!
She said move!
Are there any questions?
song performed by Scooter
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Elo Kiddies
ello kiddies
ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when the lights start shining
ello kiddies
ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when your heads exploding
So you missed some school
You know that schools for fools
Today money rules
And everybody steals it
ello kiddies
ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when your stomachs burning
ello kiddies
ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when your guts are churning
You lead a life of crime
You got to go unwind
You havent got much time
You know theyre out to get you
ello kiddies
ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when you got religion
ello kiddies
ello kiddies
Hope you didnt get it on the television
So you missed some school
You know that schools for fools
Today money rules
And everybody steals it
You lead a life of crime
You got to go unwind
You havent got much time
You know theyre out to get you
song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
ELO Kiddies (single Version)
'ello kiddies
'ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when the lights start shining
'ello kiddies
'ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when your head's exploding
So you missed some school
You know that school's for fools
Today money rules
And everybody steals it
'ello kiddies
'ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when your stomach's burning
'ello kiddies
'ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when your guts are churning
You lead a life of crime
You got to go unwind
You haven't got much time
You know they're out to get you
'ello kiddies
'ello kiddies
Whatcha gonna do when you got religion
'ello kiddies
'ello kiddies
Hope you didn't get it on the television
So you missed some school
You know that school's for fools
Today money rules
And everybody steals it
You lead a life of crime
You got to go unwind
You haven't got much time
You know they're out to get you
song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
It's Grim Up North
It's Grim Up North
by The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu
Transcribed by Drew Radtke
Bolton,
Barnsley,
Nelson,
Colne,
Burnley
Bradford,
Buxton,
Crewe,
Warrington,
Widnes,
Wigan,
Leeds,
Northwich,
Nantwich,
Knutsford,
Hull,
Sale,
Salford,
Southport,
Leigh,
Derby,
Kearsley
Keighley
Maghull,
Harrogate,
Huddersfield,
Oldham, Lancs,
Grimsby,
Glossop,
Hebden Bridge,
It's Grim Up North,
It's Grim Up North.
Brighouse,
Bootle,
Featherstone,
Speke,
Runcorn,
Rotherham,
Rochdale,
Barrow,
Morecambe,
Macclesfield,
Lytham St. Annes
Clitheroe,
Cleethorpes,
The M62,
It's Grim Up North,
[...] Read more
song performed by KLF
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Beat It
Written & composed by michael jackson.
1st verse
They told him dont you ever come around here
Dont wanna see your face, you better disappear
The fires in their eyes and their words are really clear
So beat it, just beat it
2nd verse
You better run, you better do what you can
Dont wanna see no blood, dont be a macho man
You wanna be tough, better do what you can
So beat it, but you wanna be bad
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
3rd verse
Theyre out to get you, better leave while you can
Dont wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man
You wanna stay alive, better do what you can
So beat it, just beat it
4th verse
You have to show them that youre really not scared
Youre playin with your life, this aint no truth or dare
Theyll kick you, then they beat you,
Then theyll tell you its fair
So beat it, but you wanna be bad
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
Chorus
Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin how funky strong is your fighter
It doesnt matter whos wrong or right
Chorus
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
[...] Read more
song performed by Michael Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Cut Finger
THE GOSSOON [Weeping]
It’s bleedin’! It’s bleedin’!
THE OULD WOMAN [Soothingly]
An’ shure, me lad, ‘t is bleedin’;
But come, me hearty laddy buck, be brave an’ do not cry;
A lad that’s learnin’ readin’ sh’u'd be far beyant the heedin’
Av a tiny bit o’ finger cut that hurrts a bit foreby.
‘Ere ye come till wan an’ twinty
Ye’ll be havin’ hurrts in plinty
An’ ye’ll learn a bit o’ bleedin’ doesn’t mean ye’re goin’ t’ die.
THE GOSSOON [Crying]
It’s bleedin’! It’s bleedin’!
THE OULD WOMAN [Comfortingly]
An’ shure, me lad, ‘t is bleedin’;
But he’s me slashin’ buckeen, an’ he will not weep at all;
A rag is all ‘t is needin’ fer t’ sthop the whole proceedin’,
An’, shure, a bit o’ rosy blood won’t make me gossoon bawl;
Fer ‘t is but wan way av knowin’
Ye have good red blood a-flowin’
An’ a-workin’ all inside av ye t’ make ye strong an’ tall.
THE GOSSOON [Sobbing]
It’s bleedin’! It’s bleedin’!
THE OULD WOMAN [Lovingly]
Aye, aye, me lad, ‘t is bleedin’,
An’ some foine day yer hearrt will bleed as bleeds the hearrt av me.
The saints ye will be pleadin’, but ‘t is little they’ll be heedin’,
Fer the worrld is full av bleedin’ hearrts on either side the sea.
An’ I’d die t’ aise the achin’
Whin ye feel yer hearrt a-brealdn’,
But, ah! the poor ould woman won’t be there t’ comfort ye.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Crying Through The Night
Yes I am cryin'
I got the blues and I don't know why
Yes I am cryin'
I got the blues and I'm so dissatisfied
'Cause I've been cryin' through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin' through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin' through the night
Hear me cryin' through the night
I am lonely, downhearted and sad
'Cause I've lost the best woman that I ever had
To a fiend of mine
Just can't figure out how it could be
That somebody like him could take her away from me
And it's on my mind
Nearly all the time
Yes I am cryin'
I got the blues and I don't know why
Yes I am cryin'
I got the blues and I'm so dissatisfied
'Cause I've been cryin' through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin' through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin' through the night
Hear me cryin' through the night
Now I know just how best friends can be
'Cause he made sure you knew your best was with me
And it's on my mind
Here's a lesson much greater than wealth
Keep your business to you, yourself and no one else
And your smiling eyes
Won't be cryin' like mine
Yes I am cryin'
I got the blues and I don't know why
Yes I am cryin'
I got the blues and I'm so dissatisfied
'Cause I've been cryin' through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin' through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin' through the night
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh
I'm weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin' through the night
Oh, Oh, yeah
Hear me cryin', cryin', Ic1
song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Before the War
'Before the war,' she sighs. 'Before the war.'
Then blinks 'er eyes, an' tries to work a smile.
'Ole scenes,' she sez, 'don't look the same no more.
Ole ways,' she sez, 'seems to 'ave changed their style.
The pleasures that we had don't seem worth while
Them simple joys that passed an hour away
An' troubles, that we used to so revile,
'Ow small they look', she sez. ''Ow small today.
'This war!' sighs ole Mar Flood. An' when I seen
The ole girl sittin' in our parlour there,
Tellin' 'er troubles to my wife Doreen.
As though the talkin' eased 'er load 'uv care,
I thinks uv mothers, 'ere and everywhere,
Smilin' a bit while they are grievin' sore
For grown-up babies, fightin' Over There;
An' then I 'ears 'em sigh, 'Before the war.'
My wife 'as took the social 'abit bad.
I ain't averse - one more new word I've learned
Averse to tea, when tea is to be 'ad;
An' when it comes I reckon that it's earned.
It's jist a drink, as fur as I'm concerned,
Good for a bloke that toilin' on the land;
But when a caller comes, 'ere am I turned
Into a social butterfly, off-'and.
Then drinkin' tea becomes a 'oly rite.
So's I won't bring the family to disgrace
I guts a bit 'uv coachin' overnight
On ridin' winners in this bun-fed race.
I 'ave to change me shirt, an' wash me face,
An' look reel neat, from me waist up at least,
An sling remarks in at the proper place,
An' not makes noises drinkin', like a beast.
''Ave some more cake. Another slice, now do.
An' won't yeh 'ave a second cup uv tea?
'Ow is the children?' Ar, it makes me blue!
This boodoor 'abit ain't no good to me.
I likes to take me tucker plain an' free:
Tea an' a chunk out on the job for choice,
So I can stoke with no one there to see.
Besides, I 'aven't got no comp'ny voice.
Uv course, I've 'ad it all out with the wife.
I argues that there's work that must be done.
An' tells 'er that I 'ates this tony life.
She sez there's jooties that we must not shun.
You bet that ends it; so I joins the fun,
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Let the Beat Control Your Body
-a- anita ; r - ray
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat contol your body
R: now the my beat control your body!
R: let my beat / let my beat
A: control your body/ the beat is running throw your vains/ control your body /when you let it penetrate your brain!
R: the booming system which plays in places / move your system, change these spaces / when Im on the mic you cant refuse / no one ever came to preach, I came to amuse / techno making; no mista
Never faking / always breaking it down, hey to a party / now let my beat control your body!
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: now let my beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: let my beat / let my beat
A: control your body/ the beat is running throw your vains/ control your body /when you let it penetrate your brain!
R: its my beat now / its my beat
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body, yeah...
R: let my beat / let my beat
R: down with the forces how we go / the second to first just you to show / you just cant stand still cause you gotta move / you feel the bass line you feel the groove / my beat accepts you jus
You are / it drives you away just like a fast car / its my beat, it belongs to me / so let my beat control your body!
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: let the beat control your body!
A: let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body / let the beat control your body
R: now let my beat control your body!
A: control your body/ the beat is running throw your vains/ control your body /when you let it penetrate your brain!
A: let the beat control your body!
song performed by 2 Unlimited (1996)
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Army of the Rear
I listened through the music and the sounds of revelry,
And all the hollow noises of that year of Jubilee;
I heard beyond the music and beyond the local cheer,
The steady tramp of thousands that were marching in the rear.
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
They seem to shake the air,
Those never-ceasing footsteps of the outcasts in the rear.
I heard defiance ringing from the men of rags and dirt,
I heard wan woman singing that sad “Song of the Shirt”,
And o’er the sounds of menace and moaning low and drear,
I heard the steady tramping of their feet along the rear.
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
Vibrating in the air —
They’re swelling fast, those footsteps of the Army of the Rear!
I hate the wrongs I read about, I hate the wrongs I see!
The tramping of that army sounds as music unto me!
A music that is terrible, that frights the anxious ear,
Is beaten from the weary feet that tramp along the rear.
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
In dogged, grim despair —
They have a goal, those footsteps of the Army of the Rear!
I looked upon the nobles, with their lineage so old;
I looked upon their mansions, on their acres and their gold,
I saw their women radiant in jewelled robes appear,
And then I joined the army of the outcasts in the rear.
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
We’ll show what Want can dare,
My brothers and my sisters of the Army of the Rear!
I looked upon the mass of poor, in filthy alleys pent;
And on rich men’s Edens, that are built on grinding rent;
I looked o’er London’s miles of slums — I saw the horrors there,
And swore to die a soldier of the Army of the Rear.
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
I’ve sworn to do and dare,
I’ve sworn to die a soldier of the Army of the Rear!
“They’re brutes,” so say the wealthy, “and by steel must be dismayed” —
Be brutes among us, nobles, they are brutes that ye have made;
We want what God hath given us, we want our portion here,
And that is why we’re marching — and we’ll march beyond the rear!
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
Awake and have a care,
Ye proud and haughty spurners of the wretches in the rear.
We’ll nurse our wrongs to strengthen us, our hate that it may grow,
For, outcast from society, society’s our foe.
Beware! who grind out human flesh, for human life is dear!
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Ave Maria
In the ages of Faith, before the day
When men were too proud to weep or pray,
There stood in a red-roofed Breton town
Snugly nestled 'twixt sea and down,
A chapel for simple souls to meet,
Nightly, and sing with voices sweet,
Ave Maria!
There was an idiot, palsied, bleared,
With unkempt locks and a matted beard,
Hunched from the cradle, vacant-eyed,
And whose head kept rolling from side to side;
Yet who, when the sunset-glow grew dim,
Joined with the rest in the twilight hymn,
Ave Maria!
But when they up-got and wended home,
Those up the hillside, these to the foam,
He hobbled along in the narrowing dusk,
Like a thing that is only hull and husk;
On as he hobbled, chanting still,
Now to himself, now loud and shrill,
Ave Maria!
When morning smiled on the smiling deep,
And the fisherman woke from dreamless sleep,
And ran up his sail, and trimmed his craft,
While his little ones leaped on the sand and laughed,
The senseless cripple would stand and stare,
Then suddenly holloa his wonted prayer,
Ave Maria!
Others might plough, and reap, and sow,
Delve in the sunshine, spin in snow,
Make sweet love in a shelter sweet,
Or trundle their dead in a winding-sheet;
But he, through rapture, and pain, and wrong,
Kept singing his one monotonous song,
Ave Maria!
When thunder growled from the ravelled wrack,
And ocean to welkin bellowed back,
And the lightning sprang from its cloudy sheath,
And tore through the forest with jaggèd teeth,
Then leaped and laughed o'er the havoc wreaked,
The idiot clapped with his hands, and shrieked,
Ave Maria!
Children mocked, and mimicked his feet,
As he slouched or sidled along the street;
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Austin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Drums of Ages
Drums of all that’s right and wrong—of love and hate and scorn,
And the new-born baby hears them and it wails when it is born.
Drums of all that is to be, and all that has gone by,
And we hear them when we’re dreaming, and we hear them while we die.
Drums of martyred innocence and drums of driven guilt
Beating backward from the future when the first rude town was built;
Beating louder through the slave days and the dark and hungry nights,
While the hovels filled the valleys and the castles crowned the heights;
Beating louder while the mansions shifted east from miles of slums—
Don’t you hear them? Don’t you hear them? Don’t you hear the alley drums?
Drums of human sacrifice and drums of war at home—
While the Romans conquered nations they were beating loud in Rome.
Children heard them through the ages, mothers paused and glanced behind,
Madmen saw and heard the drummers, but the rest were deaf and blind.
Peasants starved on fields of plenty, workmen rotted in the slums—
Till the drummers came to Paris and the nations heard the drums.
Drums of hope and bursting hearts—the drums of Westward Ho!—
From the homes of generations and their native land they go.
’Groom and bride and grey-haired mother, bent old men who go alone—
Fleeing bitter persecution for the terrible unknown:
Seeking freedom, rest, or justice—and the peace that never comes—
And the wilderness was conquered when the pilgrims beat their drums.
Drums of Greed that followed fast where men had made the way,
Waking drums of stern rebellion when the exiles turned at bay,
Spreading death and desolation, breeding old-world hells anew,
Until England lost a nation for the blindness of a few.
Still the dirty Jewish talon reached from palaces and slums
Till a hundred thousand English died to stop the farmers’ drums.
Drums of tortured hearts o’ men—the drums that never ceased—
Throbbing through the British Empire from the heart of London East;
Growling louder still wherever, in the wake of those who lead,
Comes the murmur of the board-room and the stealthy steps of greed;
Growling through the Southern cities, murmuring in the Western gums,
Till the Empire falls to pieces at the beating of the drums!
Drums of all that’s right and wrong—of love and hate and scorn;
And the new-born baby hears them, and he wails when he is born.
Drums of all that is to be, and all that has gone by—
And we hear there when we’re dreaming, and we hear then while we die.
poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
I'm Bad
bad bad bad bad bad
bad bad bad bad bad
bad bad bad bad
I was bas born
I'd be badder when I die
I'm bad when I am sober
I'm badder when I'm high
I'm when I feel good
I'm bad when I'm blue
I'm bad to myself
So I'll be bad to you
So I'll be bad to you
I should've been good
Look at the trouble I've had
I would if I could
But I'm just bad
bad bad bad bad bad
bad bad bad bad
I'm, bad and I'm alive
I'll be badder when I'm dead
I'm bad in my body
man I'm badder in the head
I'm bad in the bed
Something wrong from the start
Guilt in my mind
Evil in my heart
Evil in my heart
I don't need to be happy
I don't care if I'm sad
I don't care about nothin'
Cause I'm bad bad bad bad bad
bad bad bad bad
Don't lend me a dollar
Don't lend me a dime
Don't lend me your wife
She'll have a good time
I'm bad in my car
I'm badder when I'm home
I'm bad when I'm with you
And I'm badder all alone
I'm a low down worm
I'm a conquering worm
I'm a blood-suckin' worm
I'm a slime baitin' worm
I'll put you on the hook
And I'll watch you squirm
I could never learn
Any young turks new tricks
I could never learn
Not to kick against the pricks
[...] Read more
song performed by Violent Femmes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Ave a 'eart!
''Ere! 'Ave a 'eart!' 'e sez. 'Why, love a duck!
A 'uman bein' ain't a choppin' block!
There ain't no call fer you to go an' chuck
A man about when 'e 'as took the knock.
Gaw! Do yeh want to bust 'im all apart!
'Ere! 'Ave a 'eart!
'Aw, 'ave a 'eart!' 'e weeps. 'A fight's a fight;
But, strike me bandy, this is bloody war!
It's murder! An' you got no blasted right
To arst a 'uman man to come fer more.
'E 'ad no chance with you right frum the start.
Aw, 'ave a 'eart!
'Yeh've pulped 'is dile,' 'e whines; 'yeh've pinched 'is gun;
Yeh've bunged 'is eye 'an bashed in 'arf 'is teeth.
'Struth! Ain't yeh satisfied with wot yeh've done?
Or are you out to fit 'im fer a wreath?
The man's 'arf dead a'ready! Wot's yer dart?
Say, 'ave a 'eart!'
I never did 'ear sich a bloke to squeal
About a trifle. This 'ere pal uv Spike's
Don't seem to 'ave the stummick fer a deal
Uv solid stoush: rough work don't soot 'is likes.
'E ain't done much but blather frum the start,
''Ere 'ave a 'eart!'
A rat-face coot 'e is, with rat-like nerves
That's got all jangled with ixceedin' fright,
While I am 'andin' Spike wot 'e deserves.
But twice 'e tried to trip me in the fight,
The little skunk, now sobbin' like a tart,
'Aw, 'ave a 'eart!'
This 'ere's the pretty pitcher in Ah Foo's
Back privit room: Spite Wegg, well on the floor,
Is bleedin' pretty, with a bonzer bruise
Paintin' one eye, an' 'arf 'is clobber tore.
While me, the conq'rin' 'ero, stan's above
'Owlin' me love.
The rat-face mutt is dancin' up an' down;
Ah Foo is singin' jazz in raw Chinee;
The parson's starin' at me with a frown,
As if 'e thort sich things could never be;
An' I'm some bloke 'e's but 'arf rekernised
'E's 'ipnertised.
Foo's furniture is scattered any'ow,
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Beat Of Your Drum
Photograph king, watches you go
Now fashions may change, heaven knows, but you
Still leave a stain on me
Only to go colours may fade
The seasons may change, weather blows, but you still leave a mark on me
Wrong-negative fades-never the twain, reckless and tame
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat I beat it
I feel it
Disco brat-follow the pack
Watching you peel, heaven knows, prison cant hold all this greedy intention
Only to go-i picture you now
Music may change-hi-di-ho keen to follow your nose
Wrong-love out of tune
Sweet is the night, bright light destroys me
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
I like to beat on your drum
I like to beat on your drum
I like your face in the crowd
I like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
Cant beat it
I feel it
Ho beat it
I beat it
Oh yeah
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to yell it out loud
Id like to beat on your drum
Cant beat it cant beat it
I feel it I feel it
Id like to beat on your drum
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Narrative And Dramatic The Wanderings Of Oisin
BOOK I
S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.
Oisin. Sad to remember, sick with years,
The swift innumerable spears,
The horsemen with their floating hair,
And bowls of barley, honey, and wine,
Those merry couples dancing in tune,
And the white body that lay by mine;
But the tale, though words be lighter than air.
Must live to be old like the wandering moon.
Caoilte, and Conan, and Finn were there,
When we followed a deer with our baying hounds.
With Bran, Sceolan, and Lomair,
And passing the Firbolgs' burial-motmds,
Came to the cairn-heaped grassy hill
Where passionate Maeve is stony-still;
And found On the dove-grey edge of the sea
A pearl-pale, high-born lady, who rode
On a horse with bridle of findrinny;
And like a sunset were her lips,
A stormy sunset on doomed ships;
A citron colour gloomed in her hair,
But down to her feet white vesture flowed,
And with the glimmering crimson glowed
Of many a figured embroidery;
And it was bound with a pearl-pale shell
That wavered like the summer streams,
As her soft bosom rose and fell.
S. Patrick. You are still wrecked among heathen dreams.
Oisin. 'Why do you wind no horn?' she said
'And every hero droop his head?
The hornless deer is not more sad
That many a peaceful moment had,
More sleek than any granary mouse,
In his own leafy forest house
Among the waving fields of fern:
The hunting of heroes should be glad.'
'O pleasant woman,' answered Finn,
'We think on Oscar's pencilled urn,
And on the heroes lying slain
[...] Read more
poem by William Butler Yeats
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Even When I Rap It With A Scatting
That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
And my...
Feet pats on,
But the beat is gone.
That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
And my...
Feet pats on,
But the beat is gone.
My fingers start to snap it,
But the beat is gone.
I try to tap and pat it,
But the beat is gone.
I even try to scat it,
But the beat is gone,
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.
My fingers start to snap it,
But the beat is gone.
I try to tap and pat it,
But the beat is gone.
I even try to scat it,
But the beat is gone,
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.
That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
And my...
Feet pats on,
But the beat is gone.
That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!