Since the days of slavery, if you were a good singer or dancer, it was your job to perform for the master after dinner.
quote by Spike Lee
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
I just knew that was what I wanted to do. I was going to perform as a singer; I was going to perform as a dancer, and I was, you know, going to do movies and be an actress. I was going to do it or die trying. That's what my life was.
quote by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Play Together
I am a singer but not a dancer,
You are a dancer but not a singer,
So come and let us play together;
For love is all that is missing here!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pop Singer
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
Never had no weird hair to get my songs over.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer (writing) of pop songs.
Never wanted to have my picture taken.
Now, who would want to look into these eyes?
Just want to make it real - good, bad or indifferent.
Thats the way that I live and thats the way that Ill die (as a)
Pop singer (of) pop songs.
Pop singer, writing of pop song.
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never want to write no pop songs.
Never wanted to have a manager over for dinner.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer, writing pop songs.
Never wanted to be no pop singer, of pop songs.
A pop singer.
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancer
Im not invited to the party
Been sitting here all night
Im all alone here at the party
Aint got no black coat
Aint got no tie
I gotta shape up now
You gotto know why
Dancer, dancer
I cant live with it Im gonna die without it
Dancer, dancer
Aint no doubt about it
Dancer, dancer
Why dont you kick off your dancing shoes
And come along with me
Youre the life and soul of the funk-tion
It took me all night
To get hold of the right introduction
Blew me out of sight
I taste your lipstick
I look in your eyes
You feel fantastic
My body cries
(chorus)
(hot space)
Dancer, dancer
I cant believe your dancing
Cant take you home, cant take your dancing
Dancer, dancer, dance the night away
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dinner Bell
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
Experimental dog*
Salivating dog
Good dog
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
I dont want a pizza, I dont want a piece of (experimental dog)
Peanut brittle, I dont want a pear.
I dont want a bagel I dont want a bean I wouldnt like (salivating dog)
A bag of beef or a beer or a
Cup of chowder, corn, cake, or creamed cauliflower cause Im (good dog)
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Shoulder, bicep, elbow, arm
Forearm, thumb, wrist, knuckle, palm
Middle, pinky, index, ring
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
I dont know whether Id rather be having a bottle of vinegar (experimental dog)
I dont know whether Id rather be having an egg.
I dont know whether Id rather be having an order of bacon (salivating dog)
Or whether Id rather be having a basket of garlic bread.
I dont know whether Id rather be having some pie or (good dog)
Saving my appetite cause im
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things (Ive been leaving on)
So in the morning when the morning bird sings (the morning)
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket (on my)
til the dinner bell does the bell thing
Dinner bell dinner bell do the bell thing
Im waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not a singer, and I'm not a brilliant dancer.
quote by Jeremy Bulloch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm a singer who moves like a dancer.
quote by Bobby Darin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My mom was a dancer, my dad's a singer and I've always had that kind of music in my life.
quote by Elvis Stojko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was always a singer and a dancer, and I always wanted to be an actress. For me, it's all just one thing.
quote by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can relax in L.A. I think I'm the only person in that town who doesn't want to act. I was an OK singer. I was an OK dancer. But acting? Never could do it.
quote by Victoria Beckham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bubbles was a very good dancer. Tremendous dancer. He was one of our leading dancers of the country at that time. And, of course, he didn't have much of a voice.
quote by Cab Calloway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I finally put my guitar in the case the last time, I want to be remembered just as a singer, not as a country singer or pops singer - just a singer.
quote by Eddy Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think every singer should be able to jump in for a singer who has been sick, for instance, and learn an opera in two days. I know people who can do it.
quote by Bryn Terfel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do your duty
Gardeners, two there are, a pair,
One doesn't perform and is unfair,
The other is duty bound and full of care,
Both work for their master for their fare.
The non-performer is a flatterer,
He eulogizes and praises his master,
The other person, the gardener—
He is simple and knows not to palter.
To the committed man the master shifts,
The other from employment he lifts,
Let us execute our duty without rifts,
The Lord God on us will shower His gifts.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Damn Good Times
I'm not much of a natural dancer
But I've got a friend who's a natural dancer
You could call her a jumpin' bean
She's got ants in her pants and she's gonna dance
I know a girl who's a jumpin' bean
She's got keys and a token when she hits the scene
Yeah I know a girl who's got a record machine
She acts like David Lee Roth when he turned 21
I know a girl who's a natural dancer
With a cape and a hat she's a natural dancer
She coughs and she laughs and she makes a lot of calls
And all of the people applaud
As she leaves the store
As she leaves the store (damn good times)
All of the people applaud (damn good times) As she leaves the store
As she leaves the store (damn good times)
All of the people applaud (damn good times)
Can she do the karaoke? Yes she can, but she won't
'Cause she's highly qualified and she's not a joke
When it comes to opera, she is ossified
So all of you operas better step aside
When my friend got amnesia
She can't remember the show she saw
Like the one with the guy with amnesia
Who got off from the island on a helicopter
I know a girl who's a natural dancer
With a cape and a hat she's a natural dancer
She coughs and she laughs and she makes a lot of calls
And all of the people applaud
As she leaves the store
As she leaves the store (damn good times)
All of the people applaud (damn good times)
As she leaves the store
As she leaves the store (damn good times)
All of the people applaud. (damn good times)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rescue The Slave
This song was composed while George Latimer, the fugitive slave, was
confined in Leverett Street Jail, Boston, expecting to be carried back
to Virginia by James B. Gray, his claimant.
Sadly the fugitive weeps in his cell,
Listen awhile to the story we tell;
Listen ye gentle ones, listen ye brave,
Lady fair! Lady fair! weep for the slave.
Praying for liberty, dearer than life,
Torn from his little one, torn from his wife,
Flying from slavery, hear him and save,
Christian men! Christian men! help the poor slave.
Think of his agony, feel for his pain,
Should his hard master e'er hold him again;
Spirit of liberty, rise from your grave,
Make him free, make him free, rescue the slave.
Freely the slave master goes where he will;
Freemen, stand ready, his wishes to fulfil,
Helping the tyrant, or honest or knave,
Thinking not, caring not, for the poor slave.
Talk not of liberty, liberty is dead;
See the slave master's whip over our head;
Stooping beneath it, we ask what he craves,
Boston boys! Boston boys! catch me my slaves.
Freemen, arouse ye, before it's too late;
Slavery is knocking, at every gate,
Make good the promise, your early days gave,
Boston boys! Boston boys! rescue the slave.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meet Me After Dinner
Meet me after dinner.
After all has been dished and served!
Meet me after dinner here...
If you have the nerve!
My ex-wife is a memory,
And my boyfriend has long been gone.
Only they could bring that 'freak' out of me...
That sweet freak!
Others deny and hide discreetly,
As they get their own groove on.
~Day and night long!
Not caring who says,
What they share is wrong! ~
Yeah...
You meet me after dinner.
I can picture you gnawing,
On those big beef bones!
Finish what you're doing.
I'm the one you should be screwing.
Meet me after dinner here...
And let's stop faking,
We don't desire naked love making.
Meet me after dinner,
And release those phone moans.
Your mate doesn't hear,
Or care who's heart is breaking!
Since I yearn for you,
With me alone!
Nibbling on your neck,
I want to hear you coo...
In licked whispers
Sighing,
In passionate delicious croons.
I do. Yes..I do.
Reflected in silhouette,
Our beads of sweat glistens.
Under the glow of the moon!
Meet me after dinner...
And I'll have dessert,
Perked and ready...
In the master bedroom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dance
See the picture in the hall
Framed in magic on the wall
Aint it funny how it glows
Whats on the inside
No one knows
What makes this picture
So inviting
To those who stand outside it
Maybe its the dancers
Or maybe its the dance
The dancer dances
Thousands fill the gallery
They pay their price to see a dream
They can make believe for free
Two hours worth of fantasy
Maybe they pretend
The pictures them
Or maybe they just love
To sit and blend
Tonight the picture has no frame
Colours unleash and float away
To each and everyone of you
Tonight the spirit brings the news
You become a part of it all
Thousands turn to one in the hall
You become the dancer
And we become the dance
The dancer dances
The dancer dances
The dancer dances
And we become the dancer
And you become the dance
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How a Little Girl Danced
DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES
(Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.)
Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain.
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain:
Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer,
With foot like the snow, and with step like the rain.
Oh, thrice-painted dancer, vaudeville dancer,
Sad in your spangles, with soul all astrain,
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose laughter and weeping are spiritual gain,
A pure-hearted, high-hearted maiden evangel,
With strength the dark cynical earth to disdain.
Flowers of bright Broadway, you of the chorus,
Who sing in the hope of forgetting your pain:
I turn to a sister of Sainted Cecilia,
A white bird escaping the earth's tangled skein:—
The music of God is her innermost brooding,
The whispering angels her footsteps sustain.
Oh, proud Russian dancer: praise for your dancing.
No clean human passion my rhyme would arraign.
You dance for Apollo with noble devotion,
A high cleansing revel to make the heart sane.
But Judith the dancer prays to a spirit
More white than Apollo and all of his train.
I know a dancer who finds the true Godhead,
Who bends o'er a brazier in Heaven's clear plain.
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Who lifts us toward peace, from this earth that is vain:
Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer,
With foot like the snow, and with step like the rain.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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