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Brogan's Lane

There's a crack in the city—down that sharp street
In couples, and armed, tramp rozzers on beat.
Like a joss, silhouetted across the pane,
A Chinese face watches down Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
A reeling moon blinks over Brogan’s Lane.

Flash Fred, when he dives on a red lot, sneaks thro’
To moscow the swag with a Polaky Jew.
Tho’ rooked by old Shylock, he needn’t complain,
The melting pot bubbles in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
Rats pinch from their cobbers down Brogan’s Lane.

And Jenny, fresh down from the country, goes gay
And drives to the races and laughs at the play;
Till one morn, lying out in the cold and the rain,
A body is perished in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
There’s only one turn to the long last lane.

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poem by Louis Esson
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Lover's Lane

Summah night an' sighin' breeze,
'Long de lovah's lane;
Frien'ly, shadder-mekin' trees,
'Long de lovah's lane.
White folks' wo'k all done up gran'--
Me an' 'Mandy han'-in-han'
Struttin' lak we owned de lan',
'Long de lovah's lane.

Owl a-settin' 'side de road,
'Long de lovah's lane,
Lookin' at us lak he knowed
Dis uz lovah's lane.
Go on, hoot yo' mou'nful tune,
You ain' nevah loved in June,
An' come hidin' f'om de moon
Down in lovah's lane.

Bush it ben' an' nod an' sway,
Down in lovah's lane,

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poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Macleay Street and Red Rock Lane

Macleay Street looks to Mosman,
Across the other side,
With brave asphalted pavements
And roadway clean and wide.
Macleay Street hath its mansions,
Its grounds and greenery;
Macleay Street hath its terraces
As terraces should be.

Red Rock Lane looks to nowhere,
With pockets into hell;
Red Rock Lane is a horror
Of heat and dirt and smell.
Red Rock Lane hath its brothels,
Of houses one in three;
Red Rock Lane hath its corner pubs
As fourth-rate pubs should be.

Macleay Street, cool and quiet,
Is marked off from the town,

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poem by Henry Lawson
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Memory Lane

People ask me What you doin' son
You're gonna drive yourself insane
You'll never find the sunshine
When you're followin' the rain
Seems like I'd take a new road
After all these years
But I wind up on the same old trail of tears

I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin' into you
Reminiscin' through the pain
Recallin' things that we used to do
I'm lookin' up an old flame
Down on Heartbreak Avenue
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin'into you

I hate the way I loved you
But my mind keeps goin' back
My train of thought just won't get off

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song performed by Tim McGraw from Tim McGraw
Added by Lucian Velea
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Taking a Walk on Memory Lane

Taking a walk on memory lane
isn’t all that gray.
Taking a walk on memory lane
I see the sunrays.

Taking a walk on memory lane
isn’t all full of tears.
Taking a walk on memory lane
I have no fear.

Taking a walk on memory lane
not a dropp of rain in sight.
Taking a walk on memory lane
Every thing is alright.

Taking a walk on memory lane
is where I want you to come along.
Taking a walk on memory lane
is where we belong all lifelong.

poem by Lost Sierra
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Travelling down memory lane

Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.

Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.

Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.

Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.

poem by Ralph Acosta
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Trvelling down the memory lane

Travelling down the memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all lacking light.

Travelling down the memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Travelling down the memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.

Travelling down the memory lane
is college, fun and friend.
Travelling down the memory lane
is full of curves and bends.

Travelling down the memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Travelling down the memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.

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poem by Spandan Bhattacharyya
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Strolling down memory lane

Strolling down memory lane
Where the colors begin to fade.
Strolling down memory lane
Is where I want you to come along.

Strolling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind.
Strolling down memory lane
I won’t be afraid.

Strolling down memory lane
Is not lacking in color.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not a big bummer.

Strolling down memory lane
Not a storm in sight
Strolling down memory lane
is joy without bite.

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poem by Taran Burke
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In Spadger's Lane

Ole Mother Moon 'oo yanks 'er beamin' dile
Acrost the sky when we've grown sick o' day,
She's like some fat ole Jane 'oo loves to smile
On all concerned, an' smooth our faults away;
An', like a woman, tries to 'ide again
The sores an' scars crool day 'as made too plain.

To all the earth she gives the soft glad-eye;
She picks no fav'rits in this world o' men;
She peeps in nooks, where 'appy lovers sigh,
To make their job more bonzer still; an' then,
O'er Spadger's Lane she waves a podgy 'and,
An' turns the scowlin' slums to Fairyland.

Aw, strike! I'm gettin' soft in my ole age!
I'm growin' mushy wiv the passin' years.
Me! that 'as called it weakness to ingage
In sloppy thorts that coax the pearly tears.
But say, me state o' mind I can't ixplain
When I seen Rose lars' night in Spadger's Lane.

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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Penny Lane

(LennonMcCartney)
In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello
On the corner is a banker with a motorcar
The little children laugh at him behind his back
And the banker never wears a mack
In the pouring rain, very strange
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the queen
He likes to keep his fire engine clean
It's a clean machine
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer, meanwhile back
Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout

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song performed by Paul McCartney
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