Quotes about beaten
Who’ll Wear the Beaten Colours?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours—and cheer the beaten men?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We closed the bars and gambling dens and voted straight and clean,
Our women walked while motor cars were whirling round the scene,
The Potts Point Vote was one for Greed and Ease and Luxury
With all to hold, and coward gold, and beaten folk are we.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, with hands and pockets clean?
(I wore the beaten colours since I was seventeen)
I wore them up, and wore them down, Outback and across the sea—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We wore them back from Ladysmith to where the peace was signed,
And wore them through the London streets where Jingoes howled behind.
We wore them to the Queen’s Hall, while England yelled “Pro-Boers!”
And sat them over victory while London banged the doors.1
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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Beaten To The Punch
You say that you can and then you run to get your mummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Looking for the man who sold you the dummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Laughing at the older guys who say its just as well
Saved by the wedding bell
Almost beaten to the punch
Youre looking for somebody new that you can knock around
You are almost beaten to the punch
If youve got a head for figures then youd better count me out
You were almost beaten to the punch
You pulled the piece but you soon called it love
You go hand in glove
Almost beaten to the punch
Your body speaks much louder than your voice
You let it do the talking so I dont have any choice
Now you find the younger guys are putting up resistance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
You better get out now because youll never go the distance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
[...] Read more
song performed by Elvis Costello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Crazy-mazy Lee! Buzzy-fuzzy Bee Lost in Marathon Battle!
Flash it back, flash it back! Many moons ago - Sun is the god,
Stars are angels yet the moon is the lord;
Nature is the empire of plants and flowers.....
Trees and fruits danced in nature’s showers!
Belting along, bucketing along in a long race,
Hurrying up and zipping up with a weather beaten face.
Oho! Things connected to original universe are supreme,
Yahoo! Flowing brooks, waves in the sea instilled hope in him,
Nature comforted primitive clan;
The same cosmos is he! Yet destroyed by the advanced man.
Belting along, bucketing along in a long race,
Hurrying up and zipping up with a weather beaten face.
Oops! Sunday changed to Monday,
Monday to Saturday – human live changes every day;
Bingo! Hamlets changed to Towns in the same way!
Towns to cities, everything changes for a new-way;
Belting along, bucketing along in a long race,
Hurrying up and zipping up with a weather beaten face.
[...] Read more
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Transgenic
We are the new breed
We are the future
We are the new breed
We are the future
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
Born, breed, beaten
Born, breed, beaten
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
Born, breed, beaten
Born, breed, beaten [X2]
[Chorus:]
New breed, new breed
New breed, new breed
We are immune to life itself
[...] Read more
song performed by Fear Factory
Added by Lucian Velea
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New Bread
We are the new breed
We are the future
We are the new breed
We are the future
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
Born, bred, beaten
Born, bred, beaten
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
Born, bred, beaten
Born, bred, beaten (x2)
Chorus:
New breed, new breed
New breed, new breed
We are immune to life itself
[...] Read more
song performed by Fear Factory
Added by Lucian Velea
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Grandmother's Story Of Bunker Hill Battle (as she saw it from the Belfry)
'Tis like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembers
All the achings and the quakings of 'the times that tried men's souls';
When I talk of Whig and Tory, when I tell the Rebel story,
To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals.
I had heard the muskets' rattle of the April running battle;
Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, I can see their red coats still;
But a deadly chill comes o'er me, as the day looms up before me,
When a thousand men lay bleeding on the slopes of Bunker's Hill.
'Twas a peaceful summer's morning, when the first thing gave us warning
Was the booming of the cannon from the river and the shore:
'Child,' says grandma, 'what's the matter, what is all this noise and clatter?
Have those scalping Indian devils come to murder us once more?'
Poor old soul! my sides were shaking in the midst of all my quaking
To hear her talk of Indians when the guns began to roar:
She had seen the burning village, and the slaughter and the pillage,
When the Mohawks killed her father, with their bullets through his door.
[...] Read more
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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0009 On Being Caned, Frequently
Ooh! Ow! ...I'm a victim! ...I've got a psychic scar! ...
not in my schooldays,
I have to say;
how quickly the world changes!
Life was straightforward at my schools –
you disobeyed the rules, you got beaten, caned –
simple as that.
And if you were the adventurous type,
you disobeyed often, just for the hell of it,
got beaten often; the heroic aura glowed from you;
modest hero too – you never showed the marks when asked…
though perhaps paused a moment longer
when putting your pyjamas on
if you were at boarding school
to show you hadn’t stuffed any foreign substance
in your pants. You quickly learned
that cardboard made a giveaway hollow sound,
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
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So Tired
Scent on a postcard
A memory left behind
Warm hand, cool look but no time...
Winsome lose some
Hung up on old flame
My heart depends on fire
So who am I to make demands on love?
...relax and walk on by
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Kiss the right faces
And tap the party line
Short measure of cheap skate pleasure
Easier said than done
Sip the night water
[...] Read more
song performed by Haircut 100
Added by Lucian Velea
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Woman, Made a Punching Bag of Man
A woman, beaten by the cruel hands of her man
Beaten as she raises her voice to challenge his words
Beaten as she goes out to celebrate her freedom
Beaten as she refuses to do what he orders and wants.
And the battered woman accepts her tragic lot
Bearing the marks of violence on her own body
Longing for golden days of love and romance
Lamenting on her destiny as punching bag of man.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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With All Struggles Gone
Things have gotten old.
And,
Things have gotten...
Better reminisced to live.
Than,
Adding a freshness to have,
In a 'today' NOW that's given.
'Cause...
Too many people fear what's new.
And...
Would rather live a life,
They had and once knew.
Too many people roaming like they've lost their way home.
Too many people roaming like they feel all alone.
Too many people roaming by themselves and condoning,
Misery and headaches as if purchased and owned.
And groaning with a moaning just to have it known...
They're afflicted to a suffering and wanting it shown,
They've been beaten and deceived as if needed to moan.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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