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Canned Heat Edit

Written by jay kay and toby smith
The unofficial canned heat lyrics - credit to andrew moulton for writting the lyrics out
Canned heat - jamiroquai
(words and music: kay/smith; emi music publishing; sony)
You know this boogie is for real
I used to put my faith in worship
But then my chance feels just too heaven sent
I used to worry about the future
But now I throw my caution to the wi-i-i-ind
I had no reason to be carefree
No, no, no
Until I took a trip to the other side of town
Yeah, yeah, yeah
You know I heard that boogie rhythm, hey!
I had no choice but to get down, down, down, down
Dance! whooo!
Nothing left for me to do but dance
All these bad times Im going through
Just dance!
Got canned heat in my heels tonight, baby...

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song performed by Jamiroquai
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canned Heat Radio Edit

Written by jay kay and toby smith
You know this boogie is for real
I used to put my faith in worship
But then a chance to get too heaven sent
I used to worry about the future
But then Ill throw my caution to the wi-i-i-ind
I had no reason to be carefree
No no no
Until I took a trip to the other side of town
Yeah yeah, yeah
You know I heard that boogie rhythm (hey!)
I had no choice but to get down, down, down, down
Dance.whooo!
Nothing left for me to do but
Dance
All these bad times Im going through, just
Dance
Got canned heat in my heels tonight, baby...
Whoooooo ohhh
I feel the thunder,

[...] Read more

song performed by Jamiroquai
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canned Peaches

When we got to eat...
We ate spinach, peas and beets,
With sweet canned peaches!

No steak was plated!
But we knew the taste of it,
When mom fixed us cornbread.

And mama said,
Biscuits dripping dumplings...
May be next!

And on Sundays...
We thanked the Lord that week,
We even got fed!

When it came to treats,
We licked the spoon
That dipped those sweet canned peaches!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Questions?

i am tired of questions
all of them
too familiar and all
with ready
homemade answers

canned questions
and answers
in one book
scanned for years
and you all know them

canned laughter
canned faces

canned souls
canned and caned and chained
bones

they rattle and they shake

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Night A Processed Pea Took Out A Canned Tomato

The stars were shining bright
upon the night
a processed pea took out a canned tomato.

They took a look in at the Apple,
got all hung up on a Christmas tree.
The canned tomato started to wobble
and nearly squashed the processed pea.
They dropped out to stay alive
clearing away before the Beatles did arrive.

On the way back to the shop
they met up with a gooseberry
who joined them on the ground floor
in an eye full of sherry
for it was Christmas Day.
It seemed to be a lovely date,
unfortunately they couldn’t stay,
and had to retreat to their cases
before it was too late.

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poem by David Harris
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Cut Throat

Delia Demoat cut her husband’s
Throat. Delia slit it clean. She held
His hair tight with her small hand
In a firm grip. There was little fight.
Unexpected and sudden. He slumped
In the chair blood shooting across
And spraying the TV screen. Delia
Released his hair and stood back
The bloody knife in her right hand.
She was shaking, her hands shook.
On the floor by the armchair where
He sat a small book. Blood-soaked
Pages and cover. A gift from his lover.
She dropped the knife, stared at the
TV screen, some I Love Lucy show,
Canned laughter, black and white.
Flickering images. She peered over
The back of the armchair. He was
Slumped bloodied there. She ached,
The bruises showed on arms, her split

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poem by Terry Collett
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A cracked ground

By Ombuge Moses

Mama!
You sleep on a crack ground
Empty is the stomach
Hot is the sun
Nothing to quench the crack
The thirst is killing
Cracked is my throat
Helplessly you lay
You sleep on a crack ground

Baba!
Your cry is echoing
My ears cannot stop
My tears cool my cheeks
My face is running dry
You sleep in a crack ground
Forever never to see you again
Mama has followed you

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poem by Ombuge M Moses
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The Gramaphone At Fond-Du-Lac

Now Eddie Malone got a swell grammyfone to draw all the trade to his store;
An' sez he: "Come along for a season of song, which the like ye had niver before."
Then Dogrib, an' Slave, an' Yellow-knife brave, an' Cree in his dinky canoe,
Confluated near, to see an' to hear Ed's grammyfone make its dayboo.

Then Ed turned the crank, an' there on the bank they squatted like bumps on a log.
For acres around there wasn't a sound, not even the howl of a dog.
When out of the horn there sudden was born such a marvellous elegant tone;
An' then like a spell on that auddyence fell the voice of its first grammyfone.

"Bad medicine!" cried Old Tom, the One-eyed, an' made for to jump in the lake;
But no one gave heed to his little stampede, so he guessed he had made a mistake.
Then Roll-in-the-Mud, a chief of the blood, observed in choice Chippewayan:
"You've brought us canned beef, an' it's now my belief that this here's a case of canned man."

Well, though I'm not strong on the Dago in song, that sure got me goin' for fair.
There was Crusoe an' Scotty, an' Ma'am Shoeman Hank, an' Melber an' Bonchy was there.
'Twas silver an' gold, an' sweetness untold to hear all them big guinneys sing;
An' thick all around an' inhalin' the sound, them Indians formed in a ring.

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poem by Robert William Service
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I Keep Returning To This Line In My Childhood

I keep returning to this line in my childhood
I once stood in one dreaded day
every month with my mother
to prove I was loyal and reliable,
waiting for food at what was
back in the late fifties
called the Foodstall.
Though we were not animals.
We were simply poor
at the mercy of the God-wielding charities
and though it’s nowhere near the same degree
as it is of kind, we almost felt
like natives in the hands of the Catholic church.
Mostly separated mothers left in the lurch of love
with two or three whining kids
that were plague rats of measles,
mumps, ringworm, and cold sores,
agitated as electrons wanting to jump orbitals.
Natives, dried-out rummies
with faces like desiccated orange peels,

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poem by Patrick White
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Countdown To Extinction

Endangered species, caged in fright,
Shot in cold blood, no chance to fight.
The stage is set, now pay the price.
An ego boost, dont think twice.
Technology, the battles unfair,
You pull the hammer without a care.
Squeeze the trigger that makes you man,
Pseudo-safari, the hunt is canned...
The hunt is canned.
/chorus/
All are gone, all but one.
No contest, nowhere to run.
No more left, only one.
This is it, this is the countdown to extinction.
Tell the truth, you wouldnt dare.
The skin and trophy, oh so rare.
Silence speaks louder than words.
Ignore the guilt, and take your turn.
Liars anagram is lairs,
Man you were never even there.

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song performed by Megadeth
Added by Lucian Velea
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