Germ Free Adolescent
I know you're antiseptic
Your deodorant smells nice
I'd like to get to know you
But you're deep frozen like the ice
He's a germ free adolescent
Cleanliness is her obsession
Cleans her teeth ten times a day
Scrub away scrub away scrub away
The S.R. way....
You may get to touch her
If your gloves are sterilised
Rinse your mouth with listerine
Blow disinfectant in her eyes
Her phobia is infection
She needs one to survive
It's her built-in protection
Without fear she'd give up and die
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Germ Free Adolescent
I know you're antiseptic
Your deodorant smells nice
I'd like to get to know you
But you're deep frozen like the ice
He's a germ free adolescent
Cleanliness is her obsession
Cleans her teeth ten times a day
Scrub away scrub away scrub away
The S.R. way....
You may get to touch her
If your gloves are sterilised
Rinse your mouth with listerine
Blow disinfectant in her eyes
Her phobia is infection
She needs one to survive
It's her built-in protection
Without fear she'd give up and die
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scrub, Scrub, Rub-a dub dub
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning is such a chore.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning's such a bore.
Washing, dusting every day,
seems there is no end.
I know that when I'm finished
it will start all over again.
Windows, floors and kitchen sinks
just can't seem to stay clean.
The kids go out. The kids come in
and there's the same old scene.
Wash the clothes. Let them dry.
Put them on to wear.
Before the day is over
there's a spot that wasn't there.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub dub
when will it ever stop?
If I could find those rub-a dub men
I'd gladly give them my mop.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I thought it was going to take a lot more countdowns on the pad. We actually did scrub once, but I figured we'd scrub several times since it's a pretty complicated vehicle.
quote by Robert Crippen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Famine and The Feast
THE FAMINE
Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
None in the manger, and none in the shed,
None in the box where the chickens are fed,
None in the tussocks and none in the tub,
And only a little one out in the scrub.
Oh, I say! Dumplings to-day.
I fear that the hens must be laying away.
THE FEAST
Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
Two in the manger, and four in the shed,
Six in the box where the chickens are fed,
Two in the tussocks and ten in the tub,
And nearly two dozen right out in the scrub.
Hip, hooray! Pudding to-day!
I think that the hens are beginning to lay.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Obama Wont Mama
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Obama wont mama no ship,
With folks on it lazy.
He's already warned there'll be some changes made.
It you think he'll let you sit,
You're crazy.
He's gonna make discipline stick quick.
If you don't believe it...
You'll believe it when you sweep up your ssshhhh...
Itsy bits.
With sweat and elbows greased to mix.
You wont have time for bitterness.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Ooooohhhh!
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
Change, real change you can believe.
You might as well roll up your sleeves...
Hand a dustpan to those sleeping.
Obama wont mama no ship,
With folks on it lazy.
He's already warned there'll be some changes made.
It you think he'll let you sit,
You're crazy.
He's gonna make discipline stick quick.
If you don't believe it...
You'll believe it when you sweep up your ssshhhh...
Itsy bits.
Take that scrub brush,
And that mop.
Start from the corners...
And clean this mess up, baby.
'Don't wanna.
I don't wanna.
Don't wanna...
Or gonna! '
'WE CAN...'
And,
You will!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ark Angel
Red ribbon rainbow
A garland of gold for your hair
Wherever you go
I see faith crush despair
In chaos find courage
The answer to my prayer
Lipstick... liner... perfume... soap
Wont scrub this city or give it hope
Youre the antidote... youre an...
Ark-angel
Do you dream about me too
Ark-angel
When I dream I dream of you
Ark-angel
But could I change this world for you
Ark-angel
You do... you do
Whisper it softly
Or scream your name out loud
God built an angel
In sun and sky and cloud
Then heaven sent vengeance
To a world that once stood proud
Lipstick... liner... perfume... soap
Wont scrub this city or give it hope
Youre the antidote... youre an...
Ark-angel
Do you dream about me too
Ark-angel
When I dream I dream of you
Ark-angel
But could I change this world for you
Ark-angel
You do... you do... you do
Icarus rising - flies to close to the sun
Icarus falling - a moral for everyone
Youre the only one... youre an...
Ark-angel
Do you dream about me too
Ark-angel
When I dream I dream of you
Ark-angel
But could I change this world for you
Ark-angel
Then fly... then fly... fly...
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stolen Generation
They took me from my mother
But I didn’t even know
I was just a few months old
And she knew not where I’d go
She was a big black woman
I don’t know about my dad
Its now I have my grandchildren
That I’m starting to feel sad
I have blue eyes and had blonde hair
But it’s now greying gradually
I couldn’t say I was an Abo
Or they’ take the brush to me
Scrub away your blackness
Said the nuns in the Church school
Religion’s here to save you
But you must obey our rules
Rule one – you just be grateful
You’re in white society
Rule two – you must be silent
And accept humility
I scrubbed and scrubbed my body
Till I couldn’t scrub no more
The scrubbing didn’t make me white
Just made my skin red raw
I was made to feel ashamed you see
Of being just what I am
And those bastards in the priest house
Were even crueller than
Those who’d broke a family
And split us up at birth
That’s why they should say sorry
For all that they are worth.
poem by David Keig
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Joy Ride
Like a dog with the television on
Staring blankly at the screen the way you do
I'll keep you there and your money too
If you all line up inside of here
Do what I tell ya and everything will be okay
And if youre lost, I got a bobblehead Jesus
Get on your knees, that Jesus will please ya'
Money is clean if we scrub it good with
Guns and gasoline, I'm gonna save the world
Nothing's obscene if we only close our eyes
Boys and girls welcome to this joy ride
Come on all of you wont left alive
Get in line and everything will be fine
We gotta toss our troubles to the wind
We need 'em like we did in the end
Money is clean if we scrub it good with
Guns and gasoline, I'm gonna save the world
Nothing's obscene if we only close our eyes
Boys and girls welcome to this joy ride
Joyride, joyride, joyride
[scatting]
Taking everything into account the way you should
Light it up, light it up cuz it be so good
Woah, Yeah, Oh, all of us praying now
Now, Yeah, Yeah, all of us praying now
What you got [scatting]..always fade away
Money is clean if we scrub it good with
Guns and gasoline, I'm gonna save the world
Nothing's obscene if we only close our eyes
Boys and girls welcome to this joyride
Joyride, joyride, joyride
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Phobia
Everybody got something hidden
In a darkness deep inside
Everybody gotta fatal flaw
Everybody got something to hide
Take a look into my eyes
See the fear and silent cries - phobia
Deep inside, take another look at it - phobia
Everybody got a phobia
Take another look, what you got - phobia
There are alleyways of your psyche
That have gotta be analyzed
Psychological penetration
Of the fear you cannot hide
Theres a key to a door to be opened
And I wanna take a look inside
And in the darkest shadow of your mind
What you gonna find?
Phobia
Out under a technicolor ray
It all disappears on a bright, sunny day
But even on a crowded street
Somebody you might meet
Might trigger a repeat of phobia
Strikes again, fear of fire and being buried alive
Dizzy heights, wire coat hangers
Things that crawl and go bump in the night - phobia
Fear of germs
Creepy crawlies that make you squirm - phobia
Images of long ago, memories that you hardly know
A minor childhood incident
Triggering something deep below
Spiders webs and black cats
Cockroaches and sewer rats
Full moons and witches hats
Creepy crawlies, vampire bats - phobia
Im talking about phobia
Crowded rooms, too many faces
Suffocation, open spaces
Everybody gotta weird sensation
That they wanna keep trapped inside
Maybe its a sexual deviation
Hiding beneath a respectable guise
If you are of this persuasion
There is just one explanation - phobia
Started out a long time ago - phobia
When you were small you may have seen a sight
But you were too young to know - phobia
What you got - phobia
Everybody got phobia, what you got - phobia
Everybody got phobia, take another look, what you got?
Everybody got phobia, what you got?
Phobia
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dodo and The City
Dodo draws on the cigarette.
The smoke hits the throat.
The city sucks her in with its
huge sick well of emptiness.
Bagteller wanted her to go
to his place last night and make
passionate love. What a laugh
that'd been. Him and his fetishes.
The schoolgirl uniform was not
her thing. Too many memories.
She told him to stuff that in one
of his tight dark orifices and walked
out into the city's cold night. Went
home to her own place and took
a hot shower. She is still sore from
the scrub. She wants to scrub her
past away with the brush and soap.
Nothing washes away the memories
that have sunk deep. She wakes to
a new day. The city is buzzing with
the walking dead and half living.
The cigarette smoke fills her lungs
and then out into the air. Mother said
men were not to be trusted. Father
said don't listen to her she's biased
and bitchy and smells of sour cream.
Oh that I could open up my mind and
wash it out and not have to see that
shrink once a month just after my bleeds
have gone she says. Dr Glexity with his
black suit and blue tie one green eye and
one grey. All that darn money and nothing
to say. She inhales the smoke and the city
and the living and the dead and sucks them
into her lungs broken heart and stuffed head.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Fool and the Fire
A fool and a bag in a belt of scrub,
Cloudless skies and the still hot days,
And the countryside's in a mad hubbub;
Terror is here and the world's ablaze.
Five thousand sheep went West today,
Bell's home at the crossing and Casey's pub;
And the cause of it all is a world away;
A fool with a bag who passed the scrub.
An oaf with a match in a mile of grass,
Where yesterday the skies shone clear;
But fury leapt where he came to pass;
And now, ten miles away, comes fear.
Men toil and sweat in the reeking smoke
That curling drifts to a sky of brass.
And now black ruin and homeless folk
Are toll to an oaf in a mile of grass.
If the fool be caught can the fool repay?
What is to do but build again,
And hope for the dawn of a better day,
When folly is shorn from the ways of men;
What is to do but hope and pray.
While the scars heal slow in a blackened land,
That the fool shall no more pass this way
With the seeds of terror in his hand.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Drought Year
That time of drought the embered air
burned to the roots of timber and grass.
The crackling lime-scrub would not bear
and Mooni Creek was sand that year.
The dingo's cry was strange to hear.
I heard the dingoes cry
in the scrub on the Thirty-mile Dry.
I saw the wedgetail take his fill
perching on the seething skull.
I saw the eel wither where he curled
in the last blood-drop of a spent world.
I heard the bone whisper in the hide
of the big red horse that lay where he died.
Prop that horse up, make him stand,
hoofs turned down in the bitter sand
make him stand at the gate of the Thirty-mile Dry.
Turn this way and you will die-
and strange and loud was the dingoes' cry.
poem by Judith Wright
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Adventure
We found one evening, in the scrub,
a road the timber-getters made,
a winding, dim, mysterious track,
and we raced down it, half afraid.
The wild-hop vines grew high aloft,
a winter's chill was in the air,
and trailing sarsaparilla swung
it's purple glory everywhere.
Then, curled within a hollow stump
down in a gully dim and deep,
we held our breaths with awe to find
four dingo puppies fast asleep!
We stroked them, trembling, for we knew
that somewhere in the forest dim,
there lurked amid the gathering shades
the gaunt old mother, fierce and grim.
The dry leaves rustled, back we sped
to where the homelight beckoned warm,
to supper-time and Mother's smile;
and nestling near her safe from harm.
We, thrilling, gazed into the night
where twinkling stars rose high and dim,
above the darksome scrub, where lurked
the dingo mother fierce and grim!
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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The Camp Fires of the Past
A thousand, thousand camp fires every night,
in ages gone, would twinkle to the dark
from crest and valley in the rolling bush,
from mulga scrub and mallee scrub, from dunes
of Central sand, from gaps in straggling ranges,
from gibber plains and plains of iron-wood,
through leaves and in the open, from the mangroves
by shore of Carpenteria, from rocks
and beaches of the Bight.....for countless aeons,
a thousand, thousand camp fires burned each night,
and, by the fires, the Old Men told their tales
which held their listeners spellbound.... Every night
among the fires men chanted to the beat
of stick and boomerangs and clap of hands,
or drone-and-boom of didgeridoo, the songs
rising and falling, trailing, quickening,
while eyes gleamed bright, through smoke drift, bodies shone
and dusked in fitful glow amid the shadows.......
poem by Rex Ingamells
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Bath Of Least Resistance
Too many words on the the tip of my tongue and
I can never figure out
When to speak when to shout when to shut up
When to knock myself out
I need a brainwash
Gray-matter bath
I need the clutter all
Thrown in the trash
So could ya please throw my head in a tub?
I could really use a cereberal scrub
Wash away all I know
It's an overrated frontal lobe
Expensive thrills
sexual perversity
are always filling my mind
Mixed with guilt
Cause of bombs over dresden
Are kinda bringing me down
I need a brainwash
Gray-matter bath
I need the clutter all
Thrown in the trash
I need a brainwash cause I'm aloon
Cause Im a psycho-babble brain
A real life looney toon
A mixed up maniac, Im certifyable
So put me in a room right next to Nicholson
And give me thorazine Cause all I wanna do
Is sing traditional songs
But I like to sing in minor technologies
Not making sense
So could you please throw my head in a tub
I could really use a cereberal scrub
Waste away all I know
It's an over rated frontal lobe
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let me tell about Wouter
Let me tell about Wouter
standing against all wars
and who didn’t want to go
to a military camp.
He then got
three years jail sentence
and with a criminal record
he went
to the detention barracks
where the colonel said:
“Wouter you are a naughty boy
and I will get you right quickly,
if you want to stay alive in this camp.”
First he had to scrub lavatories
in pace
with the marching stick
hitting holes out of his hands
and suddenly stand straight to attention
when his task was completed.
He was grabbed and forced naked
into a cold shower
where they wanted to scrub him clean
of his faith
with scrubbing wire and a mop
and he didn’t
wrestle or kick
and didn’t stop believing
in his faith.
On command he was taken
to a instructor
that had to teach him
things about a gun.
“I know that you have no faith, ”
he said to him
because he believed differently
and when he didn’t want
to touch the gun
the corporal opened
his own pants
and pulled his own dingeling out
and pressed both in his face.
At a time he came under the boot
and still it didn’t strip him
of what he believed
and after three years of hell
he was free
in his country
where people really believed in God.
Still I wonder in my soul
and when I faced the enemy
with guns and tanks
who was the most brave
between him and me
and still I cannot get
Wouter out of my thoughts
and I wonder what God
thinks in his heaven
about a army
that gives pain
to people that are different
and when I get on my knees
I pray for both Wouter and me
[Reference: i sing of Olaf glad and big by e.e. Cummings.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Did His hand plant every scrub, flower, plant and tree
and did He let the wild animals here roam free?
Everywhere, on every meadow and on all hills
there are industries, huge satanic mills.
What has become of humanity?
quote by by Gert Strydom
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A Song Of Delight
Oh! Have you stolen out, one summer morning
To pick white crocus ‘neath the garden wall,
Or shaken softly the big scented roses
And watched the dew-drops fall?
Or slipt beneath the rail fence, grey with lichen,
And found the little brown path to the creek
In the deep hush of morn when all was silent
And soft airs fanned your cheek?
And caught he subtle scent of earth and mosses,
Of tender water-violets blue and white,
Or heard a little brown bird thrill with rapture,
Deep-hidden out of sight.
Or have you tracked a ‘coachman’s whip’ at noon-day
Through spicy scrub with tropic orchids gay,
Following its mocking ‘whish-h’ with eager footsteps
Until it dies away?
Oh have you caught the breath of glowing summer,
Rich with ripe passion-fruit and blackberry wine? –
Gone berry-hunting by the river reaches,
Where dancing waters shine?
Or have you seem the deep scrub-aisles by moonlight,
Where scented jasmine gleamed amid the shade,
Where moonrays lit great banks of white rock-lilies –
And listened unafraid.
To the soft stir of unseen life about you?
Give thanks to God, then, for your heart is right,
The treasure-house of Nature yours forever-
Her realms of pure delight.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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Lake Eliza
THE SAND was heavy on our feet,
A Christmas sky was o’er us,
And half a mile through dust and heat
Lake ’Liza lay before us.
‘You’ll have a long and heavy tramp’—
So said the last adviser—
‘You can’t do better than to camp
To-night at Lake Eliza.’
We quite forgot our aching shanks,
A cheerful spirit caught us;
We thought of green and shady banks,
We thought of pleasant waters.
’Neath sky as niggard of its rain
As of his gold the miser,
By mulga scrub and lignum plain
We’d tramp’d to Lake Eliza.
A patch to grey discoloured sand,
A fringe of tufty grasses,
A lonely pub in mulga scrub
Is all the stranger passes.
He’d pass the Lake a dozen times
And yet be none the wiser;
I hope that I shall never be
As dry as Lake Eliza.
No patch of green or water seen
To cheer the weary plodder;
The grass is tough as fencing-wire,
And just as good for fodder.
And when I see it mentioned in
Some local ADVERTISER,
’Twill make me laugh, or make me grin—
The name of ‘Lake Eliza.’
poem by Henry Lawson
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Jack Cornstalk as a Drover
“Dry scrub and dusty clearing
The long, hot, drowsy day;
The land line ever nearing
And ever far away.
poem by Henry Lawson
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