The Mayor Of Simpleton
Never been near a university,
Never took a paper or a learned degree,
And some of your friends think thats stupid of me,
But its nothing that I care about.
Well I dont know how to tell the weight of the sun,
And of mathematics well I want none,
And I may be the mayor of simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And thats I love you.
When their logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
Youll be warm in the arms of the mayor of simpleton.
I cant have been there when brains were handed round
(please be upstanding for the mayor of simpleton),
Or get past the cover of your books profound,
(please be upstanding for the mayor of simpleton),
And some of your friends thinks its really unsound,
That youre ever seen talking to me.
Well I dont know how to write a big hit song,
And all crossword puzzles well I just shun,
And I may be the mayor of simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And thats I love you.
Im not proud of the fact that I never learned much,
Just feel I should say,
What you get is all real,
I cant put on an act,
It takes brains to do that anyway. (and anyway...)
And I cant unravel riddles, problems and puns,
How the home computer has me on the run,
And I may be the mayor of simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And thats I love you (I love you).
If depth of feeling is a currency,
(please be upstanding for the mayor of simpleton),
Then Im the man who grew the money tree,
(no chain of office and no hope of getting one).
Some of your friends are too brainy to see,
That theyre paupers and thats how theyll stay.
Well I dont know how many pounds make up a ton,
Of all the nobel prizes that Ive never won,
And I may be the mayor of simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And thats I love you.
When all logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
Youll be warm in the arms of the mayor of simpleton.
Youll be warm in the arms of the mayor of simpleton.
Youll be warm in the arms of the mayor.
(please be upstanding for the mayor of simpleton.)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Mayor Of Simpleton
Never been near a university,
never took a paper or a learned degree,
and some of your friends think that's stupid of me,
but it's nothing that I care about.
Well I don't know how to tell the weight of the sun,
and of mathematics well I want none,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one thing and that's I love you.
When their logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
you'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
I can't have been there when brains were handed round,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton)
or get past the cover of your books profound,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton)
and some of your friends thinks it's really unsound that
you're ever seen talking to me.
Well I don't know how to write a big hit song,
and all crossword puzzles well I just shun,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one thing and that's I love you.
I'm not proud of the fact that I never learned much,
just feel I should say,
what you get is all real I can't put on an act,
it takes brains to do that anyway. (And anyway...)
And I can't unravel riddles, problems and puns,
how the home computer has me on the run,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one thing and that's I love you (I love you).
If depth of feeling is a currency,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton)
then I'm the man who grew the money tree.
(no chain of office and no hope of getting one)
Some of your friends are too brainy to see that they're paupers
and that's how they'll stay.
Well I don't know how many pounds make up a ton
of all the Nobel prizes that I've never won,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one things and that's I love you.
When all logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
you'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor.
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton.)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mayor Of Simpleton
Never been near a university,
never took a paper or a learned degree,
and some of your friends think that's stupid of me,
but it's nothing that I care about.
Well I don't know how to tell the weight of the sun,
and of mathematics well I want none,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one thing and that's I love you.
When their logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
you'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
I can't have been there when brains were handed round,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton)
or get past the cover of your books profound,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton)
and some of your friends thinks it's really unsound that
you're ever seen talking to me.
Well I don't know how to write a big hit song,
and all crossword puzzles well I just shun,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one thing and that's I love you.
I'm not proud of the fact that I never learned much,
just feel I should say,
what you get is all real I can't put on an act,
it takes brains to do that anyway. (And anyway...)
And I can't unravel riddles, problems and puns,
how the home computer has me on the run,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one thing and that's I love you (I love you).
If depth of feeling is a currency,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton)
then I'm the man who grew the money tree.
(no chain of office and no hope of getting one)
Some of your friends are too brainy to see that they're paupers
and that's how they'll stay.
Well I don't know how many pounds make up a ton
of all the Nobel prizes that I've never won,
and I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
but I know one things and that's I love you.
When all logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
you'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You'll be warm in the arms of the Mayor.
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton.)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This - the leadership of the mayor is crucial, because it is to the mayor that people will look to provide the vision, the energy, and the sense of confidence in the rebuilding and the recovery.
quote by Marc Morial
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad Of The People
When will people
Treat each other with respect here on earth?
Why are we so against the black people?
Because they live among white people
We want schools to be separated
But the mayor doesn't want it
By the way who is paying the mayor?
The residents of toronto
And I think that the mayor always forgets that
I believe that if we have separated schools we can end racism
And be able to serve the white and black students better
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Good Things
Demo version, from mayor of simpleton single.
Released in 1989.
Four-track recording.
Though your heart desires the things that money can buy
Emptiness lies through the glass, I shield your eyes
Theres nothing out there for you, my dear
Theres nothing out there for you
Let me tell you about the good things
The good things
I know your head is full of big ideas
You aint missing anything, have no fear
I have touched the grass so green on the other side
It will grieve you and deceive you with disguise
Theres nothing out there for you, my dear
Theres nothing out there for you
Let me tell you about the good things
The good things
I know you pine for things you see in magazines
That world brings heartache, now its not real, believe me
Remember all of those good things
You know you cant buy all those good things
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blind Woman........
it is brazen
candid, straightforward
there is no wink in the eye
and so you
believe it
to be the truth
and then you decide about
fate
of this
simpleton
who is defended by
another simpleton
upon a crime that the did not commit
but which he cannot prove
your eyes are hiding
behind those thick eyeglasses
they are not responsible
when you
finally speak about
death
the rest believe you
because behind you are the cabinets
of books
old books, filled with dusts
all over their hard covers
you are
a blind woman
speaking
with that firm
voice
like steel
in rusty tones
rabid
as a dog.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fred The Clown
Orange, blue, red, white and brown
The favorite colors of Fred the Clown
A happy and jolly clown he is
But some people he likes to tease
Everyone hates to be with Fred the Clown
But Fred never showed the people a frown
He never felt bad for what he did
The hatred inside the people had hid
The people thought of what to do with Fred the Clown
They decided to talk to the mayor of town
He laughed at what the people said
He laughed until his face gone red
The mayor didn't believe the people
For Fred the Clown gives him a tickle
They always the mayor smiled that way
Ever since Fred came each day
He already knew what Fred was doing
So he decided to call Fred for a meeting
The mayor told him what the people had said
And so left poor little Fred
The people decided to give Fred a chance
So Fred the Clown gave them a dance
The dance was so funny that they laughed all day
Fred the Clown will forever stay
poem by Geneen Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Victim Of Bad Journalism
One morning he comes to you
Introducing himself as the journalist from the city
And he comes to interview you about this little conflict
About you and the mayor of this town
What can you tell him, except the truth
In good faith you say you do not want to be popular
And be likable by the mayor’s taste like you do not want
To be his stamp pad maintaining your independent stand
On the issue of life and death of his enemies
On the issue of you as the pillar of justice and the mayor
As another pillar of his own, vis-à-vis the people’s will
The voice of this miniature democratic society
He jots down every word that you say as he asks
More questions which you answer with all candid honesty
Like you have been this judge for the past 12 years
And the mayor simply dislikes your being passive
To his programs for justice (in his subtle way
Of telling you what really pleases him)
You tell you live in peace, in independence
Free from any dictates, except your conscience
Tomorrow morning the paper headlines read
“Town Judge calls Mayor a Stamp Pad! ”
Your wife asks you what is this all about?
And you are silent; you sip your coffee carefully
You read the paper again, you breathe some more
You are silent than ever, you ponder some more
These powerful people around you do not deserve the
Dignity of your answer and you do not want to see the face
Of that journalist again; He successfully made you feel
That in this town, honesty can be very serious offense.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fred the Clown
Orange, blue, red, white and brown
The favorite colors of Fred the Clown
A happy and jolly clown he is
But some people he likes to tease
Everyone hates to be with Fred the Clown
But Fred never showed the people a frown
He never felt bad for what he did
The hatred inside the people had hid
The people thought of what to do with Fred the Clown
They decided to talk to the mayor of town
He laughed at what the people said
He laughed until his face gone red
The mayor didn't believe the people
For Fred the Clown gives him a tickle
They always saw the mayor smiled that way
Ever since Fred came each day
He already knew what Fred was doing
So he decided to call Fred for a meeting
The mayor told him what the people had said
And so left poor little Fred
The people decided to give Fred a chance
So Fred the Clown gave them a dance
The dance was so funny that they laughed all day
Fred the Clown will forever stay
poem by Geneen Alyssa Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Willie Pennington
They called me the weakling, the simpleton,
For my brothers were strong and beautiful,
While I, the last child of parents who had aged,
Inherited only their residue of power.
But they, my brothers, were eaten up
In the fury of the flesh, which I had not,
Made pulp in the activity of the senses, which I had not,
Hardened by the growth of the lusts, which I had not,
Though making names and riches for themselves.
Then I, the weak one, the simpleton,
Resting in a little corner of life,
Saw a vision, and through me many saw the vision,
Not knowing it was through me.
Thus a tree sprang
From me, a mustard seed.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bold
Prior to Seventeen seventy-one,
Law forbade any newspaper relate
lively words spoken in earnest or jest
in British parliamentary debate.
An editor charged with a printing offense
was judged by the Mayor, who radically took
a supportive stand in the man's defense
and let him off the hook.
Brass Crosby, the Mayor, was condemned by the House
to the Tower of London's grim space,
but the people's ire could scarce be contained
and several judges refused to hear the case.
Ever since Seventeen seventy-one
the Press have been free to print every day,
but ironically, now that they've won,
the members find nothing incisive to say.
Not to besmear Mayor Brass Crosby's career
yet....selective reporting's trespass,
has members tongue-tied by an editing fear
where once they spoke free, bold as brass.
poem by Diane Hine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Powerful Are They...
Can an appointed judge dismiss an elected mayor?
Is this democracy when the elites are such a powerful players?
Are we allowed to ask these questions or even think about this?
Is there something wrong here, that Mayor Ford can be dismissed?
Appointees and aristocrats always think that they are right,
We have Trudeau's Charter and have been told that we are quite bright,
Though we don't have referendums or set-date elections,
And we never change Trudeau's Charter or make corrections.
The elites know who they are, where they are and who you are,
So their unquestionable conduct may seem quite bizarre,
There's nothing you can do so you better bow your head,
We're lucky we're in Toronto, Canada or they might behead.
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The mayor of Toronto
The mayor of Toronto has cutback public service
Deciding that people are an affront to his office
How dare they want things deserved from their leaders
Shouldn't they be happy for paying their taxes?
So goodbye Libraries, hospitals and public transport
You're gone to pay for jails and the policemen's donuts
The only sanitation is another cup from timmies
Were regulars converge to scorn the Maple Leafs
There was an old lady who thought for her meals
She went to city council and complained about abuse
But the mayor sat in his chair looking slightly obtuse
Wondering if she dropped would she taste like veal?
Then Marge paid a visit in her Viking regalia
Prompting the mayor to run in hysteria
He called the police with the fury of curses
Peering through the window to spot hot nurses
He doesn't like drugs but he does endorse snow
Especially the specials that fall in his nose
He's not big for Gay, though he is Gay for Bigots
For him men are Bears taking care of their Cubs
Education to him is corrupted with liberalism
Polluted with thoughts that corrupt family values
He's right in the sense that educations solves problems
Like learning to pick mayors who don't cause these troubles
poem by Kevin Patrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evening Song
Sleep, McKade.
Fold up the day. It was a bright scarf.
Put it away.
Take yourself to pieces like a house of cards.
It is time to be a grey mouse under a tall building.
Go there. Go there now.
Look at the huge nails. Run behind the pipes.
Scamper in the walls.
Crawl towards the beckoning girl, her breasts are warm.
But here is a dead man. A murderer?
Kill him with your pistol. Creep past him to the girl.
Sleep, McKade.
Throw one arm across the bed. Wind your watch.
You are a gentleman, and important.
Yawn. Go to sleep.
The continent turning from the sun is quiet.
Your ticker waits for tomorrow morning
And you are alive now.
It will be a long time before they put McKade under the sod.
Sometime, but not now.
Sometime, though. Sometime, for certain.
Take apart your brain,
Close the mouths in it that have been hungry,
They are fed for a while.
Go to sleep, you are a gentleman. McKade, alive and sane.
A gentleman of position.
Tip your hat to the lady.
Speak to the mayor.
You are a personal friend of the mayor's, are you not?
True. A friend of the mayor's.
And you met the Queen of Roumania. True.
Then go to sleep.
Be a dog sleeping in the old sun.
Be a poodle drowsing in the old sun, by the Appian Way.
Be a dog lying the meadow watching soldiers pass on the road.
Chase after the woman who beckons.
Run from the policeman with the dagger. It will split your bones.
Be terrified.
Curl up and drowse on the pavement of Fifth Avenue in the old sun.
Sleep, McKade.
Yawn.
Go to sleep.
poem by Kenneth Fearing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He is a great simpleton who starves himself to feed another.
The most important thing a mayor does is hire talented people to run the city.
quote by John Hickenlooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But despite the challenges, I love being your Mayor.
quote by Laura Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The most difficult character in comedy is that of the fool, and he must be no simpleton that plays that part.
quote by Miguel de Cervantes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chick-Fil-A vs. Chicago
With all the violence going on in the world there is one controversy,
And it is not about an Alderman's or Chicago Mayor's idiosyncrasy,
It has to do with all pertinent things notwithstanding, a Chick-Fill-A,
The denial of opening an eatery because of what the owner had to say.
Mind you, this is Chicago where gang violence is on par with Iraq,
Going to public school is like Afghanistan as you might come back,
Certified dead, not from RPG's or IED's but from gunshot wounds,
7 year-old Heaven Sutton killed selling lemonade was way too soon.
Rham Emanuel lashed out at thugs responsible, "Who raised you? "
Well, actually Mr. Mayor, the exact same question is proposed too,
For your agreeing with Alderman Proco "Joe" Moreno on this ban,
As company President Dan Cathy agrees with God & not with man.
'Chick-Fil-A values are not Chicago values, ' this mayor has said,
I should hope so, imagine eating chicken fingers ending up dead,
While drug transactions, car jacking & all felonies continue to rise,
I've never heard of death by gunshot for not turning over your fries.
16 year-old Shakaki Aspy sitting on her porch, shot thrice in her chest,
If this was on the battlefield in a war zone, maybe a bulletproof vest?
Also shot was Leon Cunningham 18, who had been wounded before,
Already confined to a wheelchair no longer able to walk out the door.
First Amendment concerns aren't being violated yet zoning is not a right,
However, "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is, " so why the fight?
Anyone who finds quoting the bible offensive may they not eat elsewhere?
Mr. Mayor, Mr. Alderman aren't there more serious issues for you to care?
poem by Luke Easter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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