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dug out doll
the sockets bleed
soil and slime

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Dug out Doll 2

dug out doll
it looks 30 years old
palsy, naked, torn and cold
with the eyeballs gone

but like a human
like a ghost
wandering
the realm
cold and alone
it still looks for love

its hands are outstretched
and point towards sky
though the rubber body
is hardly complete anymore

i walk away my heart
cold as the doll

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Dug out Doll

the dug out doll
digs into the horror
chamber of memory
heavy as my heart

soil and water take
up every space in the naked
worn out palsy contours

little holes here and there
poked by the years that
had slept in total darkness
in the alluvial, a red swamp
now punctuated only by
upturned roots, an occasional toad
and an orchestra of insects
behind leaves, barks and branches

but they cannot tame the spirit
of the waylaid doll which
come rain or storm is
determined to have that hug
from a concerned person
its arms and hands stretched
to the heavens

lightning cast shadows
on holes that have taken over
its eyes, blue tranquility
that now features two lakeful
of evil

little pinkish tender worms
wriggle out of the alluvial
trapped in them, little helpless
creatures that too is stretching
themselves and looking for love,
for providence

its owner is probably married and
is keeping her own children warm
and could not remember the poor doll
she kept so dear once and now
crying in the thunder, lightning

dug out doll, two dark crevices
that hold ghosts, empty eyes that
hunger for unsuspecting souls

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More Out Of It Than In and Under Spotlight

I never intended to master subservience.
And respect I find difficult to give,
To anyone incompetent.
That makes little sense to me.

I know the difference between child's play,
Work and having relaxing fun...
Doing nothing at all but chilling out!
Without one concern to worry about.

I feel freer than many who are attached to things,
With such an obedience to keep them.
As if those 'things' were limbs extended.
To express a level of achievement.

And the more I pursue dreams,
With a wish to fulfill each one.
I find I have become more strict and limited,
Than those who speak of their conservative ideologies.

And that is a frightening premise,
Coming from one who claims to be a nonconformist...
In appearance.
As not to conflict with a given physical image.

Hey...
It is all showbiz.
Busy giving show!
And being serious about life,
More out of it than in and under spotlight.

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Poetothemics

No magician can make
Moon: A beautiful lass.
A poet can............

No device can grasp
The language of celestial
A poet can.....

You know! He dug out the beauty
From sorrow and melancholy
Mixed it with wine and enjoyed.

And He, enjoyed the song of her,
language was not known to him.
And He, depicted spirit of revolution
As a spiritual bird.An Albatross.

Bursted he and questioned to me.
'What device a poet has?
How they operated the device? '

I replied..
When a vinsect bites to a poet
Poetothemics activated.

'Never heard such words before! '

Now you heard from me!

He said...A poet can...
............***...........

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A Thorn Between Two Roses

Talking to a friend last night,
they were saying how
inspiration had deserted them.
I suggested several methods
of how to get it back.
Most of them they had tried,
but with no avail.
Then I suggested collaboration.
They were not to sure about that.
We write in different styles
came the reply.
Therefore, what I said
we could only give it a try.
Reluctantly she agreed.
I dug out a few miss tries
and sent them through.
In the meantime,
I was talking to another friend of ours.
Told her about the collaboration
and she asked if she could join in too.
Of course, I said
I was only too happy
to have her on board.
So the three of us set about to work.
JoAnn, Meggie and me.
And today our first poem was born.
No title yet,
but it has been posted
for the world tom see.
Under the name
JoJo Bean, Dodgy Dave & Meggie Gultiano.
A thorn between two roses.
The poem is seamless
and is difficult to see
where one poet finishes
and another poets starts.
This is our first collaboration
and by no means our last.
Each of us has enjoyed doing it
and is looking forward to the next.


6 January 2008

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Ode to the Sadness of my Eyes

My eyes do not know
How old they are
My heart still keep time
Like the old Seth Thomas
Or a dripping faucet
My eyes precede my mind
When it is looking for a rhyme
Sad eyes such as mine
Can see an angel out of the corner
Where tears collect
My eyes are as fine as scramble umbrellas
That once was lonely
Because the rain
Ran away with the wind
These sad eyes of mine can not keep their history
They are always only about the now
What I see not what I have seen
Even in sleep they have been known to weep
What the mind keep as it midnight secrets
My sad eyes can be dug out with a copper spoon
And roll down the cobble stone streets
Pass curb side trees and little shops
Just turning on the light
Pass store front churches
Where the jealous pray to a God never seen by day
My sad eyes has seen Gods picking pizza crust
From the dumpster
My sad eyes care that there are eyes
In which to compare that the thing
I see is really there
My sad eyes has been known to be nocturnal But never solitary they see in pairs over lapping This with that to make the thing whole My sad eyes are forever going where I goes My eyes are never cold, they do not know just how old.

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The Christmas Vow

THE CHRISTMAS VOW
By Maryann Virack

In two thousand seven the protestors swore
We won’t celebrate Christmas. We won’t take it anymore

“You can’t say Christ. It’s really unfair
To those other religions that really don’t care”

So Christmas was cancelled the shops closed their doors
The memories of Christmas were now just folklore

The children were saddened. They couldn’t believe it
They wouldn’t accept it; not one tiny small bit

They had to find Santa. Where could he be?
They couldn’t find a stocking or a green Christmas tree

They walked through the city, not a light to be seen
No one was merry. Everyone was mean.

They searched every county, every state, every town
Every Christmas decoration had been taken down

The children were cranky. They searched in despair
But wherever they looked…there was no Christmas there

“We’ll find it, ” they uttered “We’ll not give up trying
Christmas is here, the grownups are lying.”

“I found Santa”, cried Pedro. “Look here”, said Elaine
“He was hiding with Rudolf and some old candy canes”

He was stuffed with the manger and wise men and elves
With Mary and Jesus they were filling the shelves

In that dusty old warehouse where no one dare go
Since the dream days of children in times long ago

When Christmas was merry and life filled with mirth
And carolers world over sang “Peace on Earth”.

When sugar plums danced and a star shone above
And a magical season was filled with God’s love.

When the birth of a baby was heralded on high
Before Christmas went missing and each eye was dry.

There once was a day, child; I remember it well
When reindeer once flew and angels rang bells

We baked Christmas cookies and ate Christmas roast beast
And hearts grew much larger at that holy day feast

Yes, Jesus was here child and Christmas was living
In the hearts of all people and their spirit of giving

Americans all over gave from the heart
And celebrated Christmas like they did from the start

They hung Christmas stockings and put the star on the tree
That was the way child it once used to be

It really was special, that day of Christ’s birth
And Santa was jolly despite his wide girth

But today it’s all gone I am sorry to say
Can’t say “Merry Christmas”; just “Happy Holidays”

Someone in power was tricked to believe
That Christmas was racist and Jesus must leave

An American tradition, that fat jolly old elf,
The tree and the manger don’t belong on a shelf.

So they unburied Santa and assembled the crèche
And sang Christmas carols and baked cookies fresh

They dug out the tinsel, the garlands and wreath
Found A Little Fir Tree and put presents beneath

They called “All ye Faithful” and sang out “Noel”
Put Christ back in Christmas and rang a red bell

They rejoiced in the spirit, sang “Oh Holy Night”
Cried “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night”

They rekindled the dream that their parents once knew
With the Christ child and Santa and a Christmas tree too

They believed in a country where our forefathers trod
In freedom and liberty “One nation under God”

The spirit’s not missing. It’s wherever you look
In the eyes of each child, in every cranny and nook.

From the people who give to the poor and the needy
To The Little Match Girl and a Grinch who’s not greedy

Christmas still lives we won’t let it die
In the hearts of the children, in the wink of an eye

So in two thousand and eight and in all years from now
Let’s hold on to Christmas let’s make it our vow

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Only A Boche

We brought him in from between the lines: we'd better have let him lie;
For what's the use of risking one's skin for a tyke that's going to die?
What's the use of tearing him loose under a gruelling fire,
When he's shot in the head, and worse than dead, and all messed up on the wire?
However, I say, we brought him in. Diable! The mud was bad;
The trench was crooked and greasy and high, and oh, what a time we had!
And often we slipped, and often we tripped, but never he made a moan;
And how we were wet with blood and with sweat! but we carried him in like our own.

Now there he lies in the dug-out dim, awaiting the ambulance,
And the doctor shrugs his shoulders at him, and remarks, "He hasn't a chance."
And we squat and smoke at our game of bridge on the glistening, straw-packed floor,
And above our oaths we can hear his breath deep-drawn in a kind of snore.
For the dressing station is long and low, and the candles gutter dim,
And the mean light falls on the cold clay walls and our faces bristly and grim;
And we flap our cards on the lousy straw, and we laugh and jibe as we play,
And you'd never know that the cursed foe was less than a mile away.
As we con our cards in the rancid gloom, oppressed by that snoring breath,
You'd never dream that our broad roof-beam was swept by the broom of death.

Heigh-ho! My turn for the dummy hand; I rise and I stretch a bit;
The fetid air is making me yawn, and my cigarette's unlit,
So I go to the nearest candle flame, and the man we brought is there,
And his face is white in the shabby light, and I stand at his feet and stare.
Stand for a while, and quietly stare: for strange though it seems to be,
The dying Boche on the stretcher there has a queer resemblance to me.

It gives one a kind of a turn, you know, to come on a thing like that.
It's just as if I were lying there, with a turban of blood for a hat,
Lying there in a coat grey-green instead of a coat grey-blue,
With one of my eyes all shot away, and my brain half tumbling through;
Lying there with a chest that heaves like a bellows up and down,
And a cheek as white as snow on a grave, and lips that are coffee brown.

And confound him, too! He wears, like me, on his finger a wedding ring,
And around his neck, as around my own, by a greasy bit of string,
A locket hangs with a woman's face, and I turn it about to see:
Just as I thought . . . on the other side the faces of children three;
Clustered together cherub-like, three little laughing girls,
With the usual tiny rosebud mouths and the usual silken curls.
"Zut!" I say. "He has beaten me; for me, I have only two,"
And I push the locket beneath his shirt, feeling a little blue.

Oh, it isn't cheerful to see a man, the marvellous work of God,
Crushed in the mutilation mill, crushed to a smeary clod;
Oh, it isn't cheerful to hear him moan; but it isn't that I mind,
It isn't the anguish that goes with him, it's the anguish he leaves behind.
For his going opens a tragic door that gives on a world of pain,
And the death he dies, those who live and love, will die again and again.

So here I am at my cards once more, but it's kind of spoiling my play,
Thinking of those three brats of his so many a mile away.
War is war, and he's only a Boche, and we all of us take our chance;
But all the same I'll be mighty glad when I'm hearing the ambulance.
One foe the less, but all the same I'm heartily glad I'm not
The man who gave him his broken head, the sniper who fired the shot.

No trumps you make it, I think you said? You'll pardon me if I err;
For a moment I thought of other things . . .Mon Dieu! Quelle vache de gueerre.

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The Brandywine

My foot has climb'd the rocky summit's height,
And in mute rapture, from its lofty brow,
Mine eye is gazing round me with delight,
On all of beautiful, above, below:
The fleecy smoke-wreath upward curling slow,
The silvery waves half hid with bowering green,
That far beneath in gentle murmurs flow,
Or onward dash in foam and sparkling sheen,—
While rocks and forest-boughs hide half the distant scene.

In sooth, from this bright wilderness 't is sweet
To look through loop-holes form'd by forest boughs,
And view the landscape far beneath the feet,
Where cultivation all its aid bestows,
And o'er the scene an added beauty throws;
The busy harvest group, the distant mill,
The quiet cattle stretch'd in calm repose,
The cot, half seen behind the sloping hill,—
All mingled in one scene with most enchanting skill.

The very air that breathes around my cheek,
The summer fragrance of my native hills,
Seems with the voice of other times to speak,
And, while it each unquiet feeling stills,
My pensive soul with hallow'd memories fills:
My fathers’ hall is there; their feet have press'd
The flower-gemm'd margin of these gushing rills,
When lightly on the water's dimpled breast,
Their own light bark beside the frail canoe would rest.

The rock was once your dwelling-place, my sires!
Or cavern scoop'd within the green hill's side;
The prowling wolf fled far your beacon fires,
And the kind Indian half your wants supplied;
While round your necks the wampum belt he tied,
He bade you on his lands in peace abide,
Nor dread the wakening of the midnight brand,
Or aught of broken faith to loose the peace-belt's band.

Oh! if there is in beautiful and fair,
A potency to charm, a power to bless;
If bright blue skies and music-breathing air,
And nature in her every varied dress
Of peaceful beauty and wild loveliness,
Can shed across the heart one sunshine ray,
Then others, too, sweet stream, with only less
Than mine own joy, shall gaze, and bear away
Some cherish'd thought of thee for many a coming day.

But yet not utterly obscure thy banks,
Nor all unknown to history's page thy name;
For there wild war hath pour'd his battle ranks,
And stamp'd in characters of blood and flame,
Thine annals in the chronicles of fame.
The wave that ripples on, so calm and still,
Hath trembled at the war-cry's loud acclaim,
The cannon's voice hath roll'd from hill to hill,
And ‘midst thy echoing vales the trump hath sounded shrill.

My country's standard waved on yonder height,
Her red cross banner England there display'd,
And there the German, who, for foreign fight,
Had left his own domestic hearth, and made
War, with its horrors and its blood, a trade,
Amidst the battle stood; and all the day,
The bursting bomb, the furious cannonade,
The bugle's martial notes, the musket's play,
In mingled uproar wild, resounded far away.

Thick clouds of smoke obscured the clear bright sky,
And hung above them like a funeral pall,
Shrouding both friend and foe, so soon to lie
Like brethren slumbering in one father's hall.
The work of death went on, and when the fall
Of night came onward silently, and shed
A dreary hush, where late was uproar all,
How many a brother's heart in anguish bled
O'er cherish'd ones, who there lay resting with the dead.

Unshrouded and uncoffin'd they were laid
Within the soldier's grave, e'en where they fell;
At noon they proudly trod the field—the spade
At night dug out their resting-place—and well
And calmly did they slumber, though no bell
Peal'd over them its solemn music slow;
The night-winds sung their only dirge, their knell
Was but the owlet's boding cry of woe,
The flap of night-hawk's wing, and murmuring waters’ flow.

But it is over now,—the plough hath rased
All trace of where war's wasting hand hath been:
No vestige of the battle may be traced,
Save where the share, in passing o'er the scene,
Turns up some rusted ball; the maize is green
On what was once the death-bed of the brave;
The waters have resumed their wonted sheen,
The wild bird sings in cadence with the wave,
And naught remains to show the sleeping soldier's grave.

A pebble stone that on the war-field lay,
And a wild-rose that blossom'd brightly there,
Were all the relics that I bore away,
To tell that I had trod the scene of war,
When I had turn'd my footsteps homeward far—
These may seem childish things to some; to me
They shall be treasured ones; and, like the star
That guides the sailor o'er the pathless sea,
They shall lead back my thoughts, loved Brandywine, to thee.

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Definition of the truth and lie

The truth
Some words hidden
In the depth of conscience,
Are dug out with the showel of honesty,
And decorated on the tongue,
To slip away.

Lie
Some words remain on the tongue all the time,
Without the refuge of conscience,
And spoken freely,
As God is no more.

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Come Out And Play

Like the latest fashion
Like a spreading disease
The kids are strappin' on the way to the classroom
Getting weapons with the greatest of ease
The gangs stake out their own campus locale
And if they catch ya slippin' then it's all over pal
If one guy's colors and the other's don't mix
Their gonna bash it up

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Love And Bleed

love and bleed
hate and leave
either way i can not keep you
but with all i say and do
you'll always be in my heart
tho i'll always have this scar
from where you broke down the wall
i built around me so i would not fall
and you were there to catch me
as you promised you always would be
but you lied
as i cried
you were gone
everythings so wrong
so now if i love you i bleed
but if i hate, you leave
and both will kill
off any will
that i have to live
for i have nothing else to give

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Trading In And Trading Out

he agrees about choices
life is a matter of compromises
win some lose some
taking in and then selling out
as simple as
inhaling and exhaling air
everyday every minute every second
nature comes cramping with
a tray of choices like fruits in an array
like rain falling on the roof
like waves rolling and rolling
on the shorelines of our
destiny

take one or take all
it is your decision and that is all that matters
we become responsible
by then

who suffers? you
who jumps with joy? it is still you.

take it. lose it. for one thing
always choose to be happy.

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Break Down And Let It All Out

Break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out
I've held back my tears
Just as long as I could
But now my eyes can see
It's all over for you and me
And holding back ain't gonna do no good
I'm gonna break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out
I've hidden my heart too many times before
Now my aching heart knows that we're apart
And I can't hide it anymore
So I'm gonna break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out
I remember when you used to love me and oh how sweet it was...
but it's not enough just to remember, 'cause
what good is the past?
once upon a time...
All those old memories can set my heart at ease
So before I loose my mind...yeah
I'm gonna break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out
My eyes are open and now I see it's all over for you and me
Break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out
Now my aching heart knows that we're apart
Break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out
All those old memories can set my heart at ease
Break down and let it all out
Break down and let it all out...

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Astonishing And Astounding

My aura is violet tapering off into a soft,
rosy pink - the best explanation for what
is happening, I think; without planning I
browsed and found paper lined in violet,
pink, purple and green

And purple things: a mousepad, glitzy tiles,
a fairy dress - also discovered the softest
pink fleece - the same shade as the rose-
coloured satin throw I had bought for my
mother's bed

Also dug out my purple bag with pink diary
and my pink paper roses - yes, this must
be the colours of my aura, how else explain
everything perfectly fitting together with-
out my planning anything?

Borrowed 7 books from the library, Reader's
Digest ‘Did you Know? - New Insights Into a
World of Astonishing Facts and Astounding
Stories', ‘Space - The Hands-On Approach
to Science'

‘Visual Dictionary of the Universe', ‘Amazing
Facts', ‘Myths and Legends', ‘Symbols, Signs
& Visual Codes'; - best to begin with ‘How to
Improve Your Mind' by Andrew Wright to
prepare for the others

My son complains the book is for juveniles -
well, I'm old enough to be reckoned senile,
so this book is perfect for me - voilà!

Saturday 18 August 2012

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Busted

I forgot when words were only words
She knows the party makes me nervous
In this stage we cant get hurt
Dont try to understand me
Were too cool to be alone
But, not too crazy to get busted
I found out one life just aint enough
I need another soul to feed on
Im the flame I cant get burnt
Im wholly understated
I found silence in this space
An on and off again attraction
I need such amazing grace
Heaven sweep me away
(chorus)
Love dont change, dont come around here
Dont wear my heart on your sleeve
Like a high school letter
Dont strain, cuz nothin ever comes from it
And the people weve become, well
I strap on one horse and prayed for luck
I dug another hole to bleed
I know exactly how this works
I need a new feel dirty
I dont need you crowdin up my space
I just want to get inside you
You cant believe the heart you save
Giving something away
(chorus)
I dream that the world was crumbling down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
I dream that the buildings all fell down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
In my head I heard this sound
Like fifteen strangers dancing
But oh how I want you to know me
Oh how I want you to know me
Oh how I wish I was somebody else, baby
Oh how I wish you could own me
(chorus)

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Busted

I forget when the words were only words
She knows the party makes me nervous
In this stage we cant get hurt
Dont try to understand me
Were too cool to be alone
But, not too crazy to get busted
I found out one life just aint enough
I need another soul to feed on
Im the flame I cant get burnt
Im wholly understated
I found silence in this space
An on and off again attraction
I need such amazing grace
Heaven sweep me away
(chorus)
Love dont change, dont come around here
Dont wear my heart on your sleeve
Like a high school letter
Dont strain, cuz nothing ever comes from it
And the people weve become, well
Theyve never been the people who we are
I strap on one horse and prayed for luck
I dug another hole to bleed
I know exactly how this works
I need a new feel dirty
I dont need you crowding up my space
I just want to get inside you
You cant believe the heart you save
Giving something away
(chorus)
I dreamed that the world was crumbling down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
I dreamed that the buildings all fell down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
In my head I heard the sound
Like fifteen strangers dancing
But oh how I want you to know me
Oh how I want you to know me
Oh how I wish I was somebody else, baby
Oh how I wish you could own me
(chorus)

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Busted

I forget when the words were only words
She knows the party makes me nervous
In this stage we cant get hurt
Dont try to understand me
Were too cool to be alone
But, not too crazy to get busted
I found out one life just aint enough
I need another soul to feed on
Im the flame I cant get burnt
Im wholly understated
I found silence in this space
An on and off again attraction
I need such amazing grace
Heaven sweep me away
(chorus)
Love dont change, dont come around here
Dont wear my heart on your sleeve
Like a high school letter
Dont strain, cuz nothing ever comes from it
And the people weve become, well
Theyve never been the people who we are
I strap on one horse and prayed for luck
I dug another hole to bleed
I know exactly how this works
I need a new feel dirty
I dont need you crowding up my space
I just want to get inside you
You cant believe the heart you save
Giving something away
(chorus)
I dreamed that the world was crumbling down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
I dreamed that the buildings all fell down
We sat on my back porch and watched it
In my head I heard the sound
Like fifteen strangers dancing
But oh how I want you to know me
Oh how I want you to know me
Oh how I wish I was somebody else, baby
Oh how I wish you could own me
(chorus)

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Down And Out In Paradise

Dear Mr. President
I live in the suburbs
It's a long way from Washington , D.C.
Had me a job
Workin' for wages
Till the company moved out
And they forgot about me
Can't draw unemployment
For some unknown reason
My kids are hungry
I've got four mouths to feed
I go out every day looking for suitable employment
Do you think there's something you could do for me
Cause I'm
Down and out here in paradise
Down and out and I'm on my knees
I'm down and out here in paradise
Looks like the milk and honey
Done run out on me
Dear Mr. President
I used to be a dancer
Got a little bit too old
So I became a secretary
Married a man
In Las Vegas, Nevada
And ten years later
He ran out on the kids and me
Some said I was pretty
But those days are over
Now I've no place to live
And I'm out on the streets
Oh, Mr. President
Can I tell you a secret
I never ever thought that this could happen to me
Cause I'm
Chorus
Dear Mr. President
I'm just a young kid
I'm in the fourth grade
At Riley Elementary
My mom and dad's been actin' funny
I'm not sure what
If it's got something to do with me
My daddy's always drunk
My mom's a babysitter
And I don't like the Russians
Cause I hear they hate me
Dear Mr. President
Can I ask you one question
When the bombs fall down
Will they hurt everyone in my family
Yeah, yeah
Chorus

song performed by John MellencampReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Inside And Out

INSIDE
Brother Seems they're letting him out next year
He's behaving himself, I hear
Governor Conway says it will be fine
Just as long as he can tow the line
It's the same old story
But it says here "Mum you're not to worry"
'Cos some you lose and some you lose
At this party, he was on his own
All he did was say he'd take her home
But it seems they didn't go straight there
'cos on the porch, she told him,
"put your hand here"
Yes it's that same old story
They told her mum she's not to worry
Police "If what she says is so,
we'll never let him go!"
Him "Never a word could be heard
Not even the sound of a bird
Singing it over again, telling a different story
Never the same as before
See the summer going out by the door"
Brother And now that you've paid for those lies
Get another disguise
"It's twenty years now since our Kid came free
Oh I remember August '53
But it wasn't quite like they said
With that behind you, you can't plan ahead
Yes it's the same old story
They say you're free, but don't worry
What they said's not so
They'll never let you go!"
Him "Never a word could be heard
Not even the sound of a bird
Singing it over again, telling a different story
Never the same as before
See the summer going out by the door"
Brother And now that you've paid for those lies
Get another disguise
OUT

song performed by GenesisReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
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