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Quotes about Bucket

Bucket T

Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Found her in a barn in tennessee
I paid five bucks for my bucket t
Took me three years of sweat and blood
To clean off all that tennessee mud
Chorus:
My bucket t (bucket t)
Bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
T t t... bucket bucket bucket...
Cruise down the street in front of school
I wanna rev it up but I gotta be cool
Drivin down the road Ill get my kicks
Apoppin the clutch and aslippin the sticks
[chorus]
I was right, too, shes first in her class
Theres nothing on the freeway she dont pass

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Bucket Kicker

What rhymes with bucket?
'That depends.
Is the bucket empty?
And
Is there anyone kicking it? '

Let's say the bucket is full.
And it is being carried?
'In a Porshe?
Or a Mercedes? '

You know
Sometimes I wonder why,
I bother to ask you anything!

'Oh
So 'you're' the kicker?
That should be obvious.'

Why is it obvious now?

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One Bucket Of Water

One bucket of water
Razed the city to ashes.
One bucket of water
Could not quench the fire
Blazing from the town's
Central pump.

One bucket of water
A man held, jumped the
Queue to the pump.
One bucket of water
At the pump, about to
Collect water, resisted.

They stared each other
In the eye. Their tribal
Marks were different.
They threw caution to
The winds. Including
All buckets on the line.

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Cameron's Heart

The diggings were just in their glory when Alister Cameron came,
With recommendations, he told me, from friends and a parson `at hame';
He read me his recommendations -- he called them a part of his plant --
The first one was signed by an Elder, the other by Cameron's aunt.
The meenister called him `ungodly -- a stray frae the fauld o' the Lord',
And his aunt set him down as a spendthrift, `a rebel at hame and abroad'.

He got drunk now and then and he gambled (such heroes are often the same);
That's all they could say in connection with Alister Cameron's name.
He was straight and he stuck to his country
and spoke with respect of his kirk;
He did his full share of the cooking, and more than his share of the work.
And many a poor devil then, when his strength and his money were spent,
Was sure of a lecture -- and tucker, and a shakedown in Cameron's tent.

He shunned all the girls in the camp,
and they said he was proof to the dart --
That nothing but whisky and gaming had ever a place in his heart;
He carried a packet about him, well hid, but I saw it at last,
And -- well, 'tis a very old story -- the story of Cameron's past:

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Mother Penchallamma

Bursting the banks of the rain-fed tanks,
the swirling flood was swelling
the river Kundu in Cuddappah,
on twenty fourth August two thousand.

Carrying her two sons on her shoulders,
Penchallamma dared to cross the river,
in chest-deep strong current
to reach safe the other side,
as her house was engulfed
to be washed away soon.
The Collector from a helicopter
lowered down a plastic bucket,
to lift her up with her children.
Alas! Her seven year old boy
while climbing up into the bucket,
slipped and slumped into the river
and was swept away before her eyes!

Controlling her shock and grief,

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Empty Bucket

You can make it better!
If you insist that it is.
By getting better,
With a doing more of it!
Much better.
If you want it to exist,
By getting better.
With a doing more of it.

Now...
Take that empty bucket and you tell yourself enough,
And then you kick it away...
To-day.
Now...
Take that empty bucket and you tell yourself enough,
And then you kick it away.

'Cause you can make it better!
And place and win on any bet,
By getting better.

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Sacrifices

All winter the fire devoured everything --
tear-stained elegies, old letters, diaries, dead flowers.
When April finally arrived,
I opened the woodstove one last time
and shoveled the remains of those long cold nights
into a bucket, ash rising
through shafts of sunlight,
as swirling in bright, angelic eddies.
I shoveled out the charred end of an oak log,
black and pointed like a pencil;
half-burnt pages
sacrificed
in the making of poems;
old, square handmade nails
liberated from weathered planks
split for kindling.
I buried my hands in the bucket,
found the nails, lifted them,
the phoenix of my right hand
shielded with soot and tar,

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The Three Bares

Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em clean
And so she thought she'd soak 'em in a bucket o' benzine.
It worked all right. She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd do
With all that bucket load of high explosive residue.
She knew that it was dangerous to scatter it around,
For Grandpa liked to throw his lighted matches on the ground.
Somehow she didn't dare to pour it down the kitchen sink,
And what the heck to do with it, poor Ma jest couldn't think.

Then Nature seemed to give the clue, as down the garden lot
She spied the edifice that graced a solitary spot,
Their Palace of Necessity, the family joy and pride,
Enshrined in morning-glory vine, with graded seats inside;
Jest like that cabin Goldylocks found occupied by three,
But in this case B-E-A-R was spelt B-A-R-E----
A tiny seat for Baby Bare, a medium for Ma,
A full-sized section sacred to the Bare of Grandpapa.

Well, Ma was mighty glad to get that worry off her mind,
And hefting up the bucket so combustibly inclined,

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Say Hallelujah

Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone
Close your eyes
And bow your head
To rest your soul
And to praise the dead
Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone
Dry your eyes
And stand upright
Put a smile on your face
He wouldnt want us to cry
The sun will rise
The stars will shine
Turning day to dusk
And night to dawn

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song performed by Tracy ChapmanReport problemRelated quotes
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Big Red

Have you heard about big red?
They even bought a beebread rig
To help the flowers in mean space
Theyre trying to make that place green
Hope the trees will take away the storm [2x]
Dont know how this whole thing started
There was a crowd and then we parted
Dont know if Ill ever go back
Its a long way across all of this black
Here I am in my bucket today
In the middle
Here I am in my bucket today
In the middle
They got a mule they call sal
Bulldozing up canal walls
Theyre gonna tap that icecap too
When they do theyre gonna make that green map blue
The weather is finally getting warm
And the weather is really getting warm
Dont know how this whole thing started

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song performed by Frank BlackReport problemRelated quotes
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