A town takes your money though your pockets be empty.
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100 Nights
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
A hundred nights of fun and games
A thousand empty glasses
I feel it change and stay the same
As each day passes
They invite me to their gatherings
In the finer parts of town
They seem attracted to my indifference
The irony just knocks me out
And I love them as if I love them
And they reciprocate with help
But I look up at these mirrors sometimes
Oh, and I cant see myself
They say that some are born to burn
And some are born to give
They say that people live and learn
Some people only live and live
You dont know that I come here
If you did you would know why
So we close our eyes
You didnt notice me
As I passed you on the stairs
How could you ever guess lookin at my face
How closely I share your taste
How well I know your place
Even the clothes you wear
Ive seen them when youre not there
You say that you can win win win
If you know how to play the game
But while youre out there playing you see
Theres something you should know
She spends your money
She spends your money
She spends your money
She spends your money on me
This town has turned me into what I have become
This town dresses you up like a stranger
This town hangs around in the doorway and tells me Im late
This town takes us down, takes us down
I feel like Im losing you to this town
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Most Unhappy Chase The Money
With that mind that you have,
And all the things that you can do...
Why you only chase,
The money?
Why you only chasing for the money.
Why the money.
Why you only chasing money.
With that mind that you have,
And other things to pursue.
Why you only chase,
The money?
Why you only chasing for the money.
Why the money.
Why you only chasing after money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
People most unhappy find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
And those unhappy people find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
People most unhappy find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
And those unhappy people find it hard to believe.
They are not the only ones with pockets empty.
And for them it isn't funny when the money stops coming.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
Only money.
People most unhappy chase the money.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Town
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
The cars leave their trails of hot & cold light inside my head
Like burned-in long exposure pictures
The wheels spin slowly backwards
Strobing in the amber light
And the rain comes down and washes my brain
But it dont get clean
This town has turned me into what I have become
This town dresses me up like a stranger
This town performs in the window like the ultimate gift
This town takes us down
I feel like Im losing you to this town
We were saving our money for half of our lives
We were saving our dreams
And we came to this place to make the chances real in the big city
But Ive been counting the days Ive been watching you change
And I can feel it dying
The noise outside takes you in its arms like a lamb to a lion
And down there somewhere among the noise
The magazine dolls and the big money boys
Move silently on their easy heels
They move silently on their greasy wheels
This town has turned me into what I have become
This town dresses you up like a stranger
This town hangs around in the doorway and tells me Im late
This town takes us down, takes us down
I feel like Im losing you to this town
The morning breaks and I watch you awake and this town takes you down away from me again
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If It Was About A Lot Of Money
If it was about a lot of money...
My mind would be,
Trimmed in dollar bills.
With-my-thoughts-on a million of them,
And a caring less of my fellowman.
And if it was about a lot of money...
I'd ignore,
Every two cents made.
By anybody wanting to deliver to me,
Any consciousness attached to common sense.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money...
I wouldn't be concerned about the suffering seen.
And if it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
And if it was about a lot of money...
My eyes wouldn't cry when I see these scenes.
If it was about a lot of money...
My mind would be,
Trimmed in dollar bills.
With-my-thoughts-on a million of them,
And a caring less of my fellowman.
If it was about a lot of money...
I'd ignore,
Every two cents made.
By anybody wanting to deliver to me,
Any consciousness to instigate.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money...
I wouldn't be concerned about the suffering seen.
I'd fill my pockets and get away!
If it was about a lot of money.
I'd fill my pockets each and everyday.
If it was about a lot of money.
I'd fill my pockets and get away!
If it was about a lot of money.
I'd fill my pockets up and run the other way.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
If it was about a lot of money.
And if it was about a lot of money...
There wouldn't be a single word I would say.
I wouldn't have concerns or feel this way.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Digging Real Deep
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch or a feel of return.
And a lesson's not learned,
That...
A deposit made to dip,
For tasty lips...
Took too many dips,
To withdrawn the end of it.
And there will be no return...
You put that last deposit in your pocket,
And then you split...
With it.
You put that last deposit in your pocket,
And then you split...
With it.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch or a feel of return.
And a lesson's not learned,
That...
A deposit made to dip,
For tasty lips...
Took too many dips,
To withdrawn the end of it.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
IS...
Digging real deep.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
IS...
Digging real deep
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep.
In empty pockets.
Dig!
Digging real deep,
In empty pockets...
For a touch of return,
Long ago had been burned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Can Not Live Without That Fix
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
Less is the significance.
And the importance,
Of one's quality of life.
Once the having of money,
And the affect of it...
Became the impression,
One wanted to make.
To flaunt and have it,
And from their pockets drip!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
And the satisfaction teased,
Would increase with a taste...
For more of it.
Until those not having it,
Were quickly despised.
And with character assassinations...
There became a rise of ruined lives,
With deciet, lies and alibis!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
Drifting in mental fits,
Are those today being weened away from it.
Crazed in protests...
With voices raised demanding,
And with their minds splitting into pieces!
A feeding of greed has done this.
At the expense of their consciousness!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
And just like addicts!
They can not live without that fix!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
They want yours and mine!
And anything that looks like it!
MONEY
MONEY
MONEY
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Astounding
Rusted metal in moonlight, orange. Monkeys can't hold it,
So they even are not worth good graces.
But who, friend, is? Motorcycle men towing old ladies,
flipping off those they pass in hatred and self-satisfaction,
Scream to be mocked, for the pomp,
Their absurdity as Camus' absurdity. And today, Whitsunday, meaninglessly, the tarantulas at the pulpit, experts in raking in dough,
Grab our soulless hearts, tug the strings of their pulpits.
Bankers are select money-grubbers, Who get off when they overfee the poor, so they can float in heated pools.
Oil concens drain your pockets as you refuel:
You are playing their fool.
And the journey you prolong unto death
Is to make the rich richer;
But bless their bloated suicide rates,
As they sit transfixed by Fox News,
Empty-headed, lily-livered, drunk with deep pockets.
Out for the honor of no one,
Not themselves either,
Because there is direct pay
Dearly in coming
Birth, stillborn,
Conjoined at the pockets with empty holes.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Empty Hands
He rode in town on a white horse
With nothing in his hands
He came to gather his people
And take them to their promised land
When he came he knew there would be bloodshed
But still no violence made his plans
He came to fight in a battle
With no guns or money
But with his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands
With his empty hands
They said hey boy what you lookin'at
As they eyed his dreaded mane
He said my father has sent me
I've come back to reclaim
The children whose hearts
Were so whole and pure
Now it's you who'll die in pain
So they lynched the man
Who fooled the word
And all the children gathered
In his empty hands
In his empty hands
The children ..... empty hands
In his empty hands
With his empty hands
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Let Love Rule
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Needs Money
(a duet with ray walker)
(words & music by randy starr)
Im on the right track for lots of kissin
So that old greenback, I wont be missin
All the greatest things in life are free
Who needs money, not me
Cash or credit, it doesnt matter
Long as my bank books keep growin fatter
Easy street is my favorite avenue
Who needs money, I do
Just pity all those millionaires they never can relax
Because theyre always worryin about their income tax
Why waste time on high financin, Id rather spend it on good romancin
What if my pockets are empty as can be
Who needs money, not me
Tell me about it
Some folks save it, some folks lend it
But as for me I want to spend it
Give me some green and my skies will be blue
Who needs money, I do
Stocks and bonds, they only bore me
Interest holds no interest for me
Who wants to sit in the lap of luxury
Who needs money, not me
When I go to bed at night instead of counting sheep
I start counting dollar bills and then I fall asleep
Making money never thrills me
Its making love that really kills me
What can I lose with my philosophy
Who needs money, not me
What do you want
I want a big yacht, I can cruise in
The kind that girls just cant refuse in
All it takes is a million or two
Who needs money, I do
Any time some gal starts flirtin
Now that Im broke I know for certain
She really digs my personality
Tell me, who needs money not me
Povertys the only thing that money cannot buy
So rich or poor it pays to have m-o-n-e-y
A gal whos tender, thats what I love
Its legal tender, I want a pile of
Just let my liquid assets overflow
You cant take it with you when you go
So, who needs money
That lovely, lovely money
Who needs money, not me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty pockets never held anyone back. Only empty heads and empty hearts can do that.
quote by Norman Vincent Peale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Lamentations of an Upright Doctor
Oh God, my lord, I want to be upright!
Could I send patients with pockets empty?
When poor and sick a person comes to me.
My conscience tells me whatever is right.
Though he be rich, could I him ever fleece?
Where is the need for too costly treatment,
Except to take back money for my rent?
I can’t charge him hence, exorbitant fees.
When cure can come for rupees only ten,
Then all I need to do is speak kind words;
Can I waste money ev’n if he affords?
Where is the need to admit him often?
God, let me keep my ethics in this world!
Heaven is not attained by any gold.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money
Money money money
Everybody wants some
No money church can't run
Money for this
Money for that
No life without it
Can't sleep
She says hell
In this house
If she don't get it!
Before you get paid
Taxman grab it
Buy something
He grab it again
When money pressure hit
You cannot afford to get sick
Doctors want some
And if you dead without it
You will not be buried
Not even in the sticks
Money money money
It's like blood
It's the way world runs
Need money for food
Need money for fun
If you have no money
Blood a go run
Man join the army
To get some of it
Would be alive
If he had it
Money money money
Where is the money?
Have to get money
Before the day is done
Donkey cough
When you are broke
No money
Donkey don't eat
Everything stops
Earth can't turn
Have to have money
Even some to burn
Money money money
Where did it go?
Pocket is empty
And I just got paid
Maybe my woman took it
Thought I had it made
Thought I had a hundred
But I don't have twenty
Now I am in trouble
I have to leave yard
But I can't leave
If I don't have any
What a thing this is
Money! money! money!
Eh!
12/4/09
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money is always there but the pockets change; it is not in the same pockets after a change, and that is all there is to say about money.
quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Charity Begins At Home
A shake of the tin
The money drops in, but is it a sin
Youre standing in rags
Youre selling your flags
But who gets the dough at the end of the day
We saw your drop-dead fancy wheels
Your little house up on the hill
But when your conscience pricks
A little sacrifice sweetens the pill
So keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
We take to the stage
The audience rave, were doing our bit
A heavenly cast, a blast from the past
Theres a song to be sung, will it make number one
We wanna see your money roll
But our eyes are on the hall of fame
'cos business is business
And hits are the name of the game
So keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
Everywhere that we turn
There are mouths to be fed
How can we sleep
The battle goes on while were
Safe in our beds
So dont turn away
No dont turn away
Your doors are locked
You switch on the box to take in a show
You think that youre safe
But here comes that face
And wouldnt you know its that message again
They want to take your plastic cash
Your hand reaches out to the phone
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
Everywhere that we turn
There are mouths to be fed
How can we sleep
The battle goes on while were
Safe in our beds
So dont turn away
No dont turn away
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity begins at home
Keep your hands in your pockets
Charity wont leave you alone
(repeat 5x)
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cursed be he above all others Who's enslaved by love of money. Money takes the place of brothers, Money takes the place of parents, Money brings us war and slaughter.
We say that anytime budgets are balanced and an ample savings account has been set aside, government should just stop collecting taxes. Better to leave that money in the pockets of those who earned it, than to let it burn a hole, as it always does, in the pockets of government.
quote by Mitch Daniels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Takes Me Away From Myself
TIME TAKES ME AWAY FROM MYSELF
Time takes me away from myself
Money also-
It is too late to do what I could have done forty years ago
Still I must go on
Faltering, fearing, wondering whether the health or the money
Will run out first or somehow together-
Old and coughing
Sick and unafraid-
Forcing myself to try and move
Even if only on a page-
Time takes me away from myself
And when I go 'all goes' as the man said
Time takes me away from myself
And I write anyway.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money
Money
Money
Money
Important
Useful
Necessary
Money
Money
Money
Wealthy
Middle
Poverty
Money
Money
Money
Save
Give
Spend
Money
Money
Borrow
Lend
Money
Money
Foe
Friend
Money
Money
Master
Slave
Money
Money
Satisfied
Crave
Money
Money
Laugh
Cry
MoneyMoney
Live
Die
Money
Money
Sick
Well
Money
Money
Heaven
Hell
poem by Howard Simon
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Desperate Ain't Lonely
I try not to drink,
'cause if I sit and think I'll go crazy
Desperate ain't lonely
Though I've been high
Pockets are empty
In the daytime I'm lonesome in the nightime I'm sad
The letter I wrote,
took words from my throat I was saying
Lay on the roadside
I guess the mailman was drunk
The message was urgent
How lazy a state where you don't live no-one
So I try not to drink,
'cause if I sit and think I'll go crazy
Desperate ain't lonely
Though I've been high
Pockets are empty
In the daytime I'm lonesome in the nightime I'm sad
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desperate Ain't Lonely
I try not to drink,
'cause if I sit and think I'll go crazy
Desperate ain't lonely
Though I've been high
Pockets are empty
In the daytime I'm lonesome in the nightime I'm sad
The letter I wrote,
took words from my throat I was saying
Lay on the roadside
I guess the mailman was drunk
The message was urgent
How lazy a state where you don't live no-one
So I try not to drink,
'cause if I sit and think I'll go crazy
Desperate ain't lonely
Though I've been high
Pockets are empty
In the daytime I'm lonesome in the nightime I'm sad
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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