An army marches on its stomach.
quote by Napolean Bonaparte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An army marches on its stomach.
quote by Napoleon Bonaparte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Marches On
In the country
The farms and the orchards swell
With oranges and peaches
A little bit of truth as well
In the city
Politicians beat their drum
All the suits come a runnin'
It's all degeneration
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
In the country
Everybody thinks we're dumb
But we built the fire
Why'd you come and get you some?
In the city, skyscrapers touch the sky
What's the use in being so high up
When it's only gonna bleed you dry?
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
In the country
The stars shine brighter
Than in the city
In the country
In the country
In the city
I turn on the radio
Only leaves me down with the question:
What happened to our generation?
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
Oh yeah, yeah
Life Marches On
Oh yeah
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
Life Marches On
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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End Of The Book
Words & music: mike hudson and michael w. smith
On the day
You were saved
Heaven and hell marked you down
Angels praise
Devils raged
Life became a battleground
So when hell starts to move
And the enemy marches on you
Hang on, its a fight
Youve been marked by the army of night
Youre a target
When your heart
Loved the dark
Hell could just leave you alone
With your life
Filled with light
You have become quite a foe
So when hell starts to move
And the enemy marches on you
Hang on, its a fight
Its a battle of darkness and light
Chorus:
When things get bad and you cant stand to look
Its time to read to the end of the book
Dont put it down til you get to the end
When jesus come and his kingdom begins
til he comes
God the son
Teaches us to use the sword
And every fight
Has a light
When you know we win the war
So when hell starts to move
And the enemy marches on you
Hang on, its a fight
Youre a part of the army of light
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gas Hed Goes West
If I was half alive
Then you were dead
Subsistin' on that same old bread
It's the memory that hides
The whole wide world
It's the gas hed's love of america
It's the memory that hides
Take your photographs back
For the love of all gods
Our gas hed marches on
Our gas hed marches on
He's a bonified man
A star amongst his clan
And the only one that let me ride
It's the memory that dies
Our gas hed was right
When they lanced his skull
There was puss and light
It's the memory that dies
So take your photographs back
For the love of all gods
Our gas hed marches on
Our gas hed marches
It's the memory that dies
And make your photographs black
For the love of all gods
Our gas hed marches on
Our gas hed marches on
It's the memory that dies
So take your photographs back
For the love of all gods
Our gas hed marches on
Our gas hed marches
Gas hed is on the radio
song performed by by Live from Secret Samadhi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gas Head Goes West
If I was half alive
and you were dead
subsisiting on that same old bread
it's the memory that hides
the whole wide world
it's the gas hed's love of america
it's the memory that hides
take your photographs back
for the love of all gods
our gas hed marches on
our gas hed marches on
he's a bona fide man
a star amongst his clan
and the only one that let me ride
it's the memory that dies
our gas hed was right
when they lanced his skull
there was puss and light
it's the memory that dies
so take your photographs back
for the love of all gods
our gas hed marches on
our gas hed marches on
it's the memory that dies
and make your photographs black
for the love all gods
gas hed marches on
gas hed marches on
it's the memory that dies
so take your photographs back
for the love of all gods
our gas hed marches on
our gas hed marches on
gas hed is on the radio, radio, radio
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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March Of Time
Hours of lust, hours of tears passing by before my eyes
Today, tomorrow, yesterday. . .one life
Days of joy, day of sadness come and go to pass me by
A month, a year, one hundred years, they fly
Bridge: ohh, one day I will be gone to lead another life
Ohh, and this world will stop to turn around with me
cause
Chorus: time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On without us all, never stops, yes
Time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On and on and on, flies eternally
Times of peace, times of fights, constant movement is our life
Cant stop no more, not until. . .we die
We long for more. . .eternity, and maybe theres another life
This one is short, no matter how you try
Bridge: ohh, but never give up all the hope to lead a good life
No, dont waste your given time to make things worse
Chorus: time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
One without us all, never stops, yes
Time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On and on and on, flies eternally
Plese, please help me see, the best way to be
Make a change and we, live eternally
No more wasted years, no more wasted tears
Lifes too short to cry, long enough to try
Chorus: time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On without us all, never stops, yes
Time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On and on and on, flies eternally
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Marches On
(oooh, ohhh, mmmm)
The trade's on.
She drains emotion -
To drink from,
The breast of fortune
Dreams have frozen,
Crystal in the morning
Birthtime rose,
A thorn for coronation.
-
All arise from your rest
We'll find enough there to feed you.
Soon you'll belong to the blessed
Spare us your lives while we need you.
Loud, is the music, the crowd is ringing
Out, of my head as the winter marches on...
Loud is the music the sky is bringing
Out of my head as the winter marches on...
Loud, is the music, the crowd is bringing
Out, of my head as the winter marches on...
Loud is the music the sky is ringing
Out of my head as the winter marches on...
And on...
Winter marches on...
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Photosynthesis
If you were to exhale oxygen
along with all the plants
by the archaic mouth of photosynthesis,
the whole earth would smell of ozone.
This happens before the rain,
when the rebel raindrops army marches
and the odd dust bounces around.
poem by Andrei Langa, translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Grafted Into the Army
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
I told them the child was too young, alas!
At the captains forequarters, they said he would pass,
they'd train him up well in the Infantry class,
so they grafted him into the Army.
Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell way down in Alabammy;
I though they would spare a lone widder's heir,
but they grafted him into the Army.
Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
they have grafted him into the Army;
it seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
but they grafted him into the Army.
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
but Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair
when they grafted him into the Army.
Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
they have grafted him into the Army;
a picket beside the contented field,
they have grafted him into the Army.
He looks kinder sickish -- begins to cry,
a big volunteer standing right in his eye!
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
now they've grafted him into the Army.
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Army Of Pathos
An Army of pathos
Marches on into the plains of our lives.
Hungry kids, dead grannies and forsaken huts...
There were life and laughter once.
No agendas die, the politician who learnt at the Oxford repeats,
'Don`t panic, things will be alright soon'.
How can he sleep tonight?
An Army of flickering hopes
Struggles to bring solace to the masses.
Soaring summer heat and reports of sunstrokes...
There were still such times not so bad!
No enjoyments are called off as the haves still chill out their lives,
Let the drowning ones go deep, the survivors must rejoice.
How will this phase come to an end?
The ghosts of the Palastine kids killed
By the incorrigible Isrelites haunt the minds.
When will these armies fade out for ever?
The Nargese licked off the lands of Myamnar
And the army regime said 'no' to the helping hands!
What a nasty human fate it is to be under one`s ego.
The Black Obama may just have paradise for a short span.
But will the Whites honour him over the White Mcain at last?
And Putin in disguise shall rule over Russia yet.
An army of pale sentinels let out a cry weak.
There used to be a life different..
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When ego is fed…
Someone would remember me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would be grateful to me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would broadcast of me:
My stomach goes full.
Someone would long for me:
My stomach goes full.
Whenever ego gets food,
The stomach is fed without food.
05.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stomach with food
Dont full
Fill your stomach...at
Food...
Stomach is
Full fill
The food...
Only at only
With waste of
Basket...
Making
At your stomach...
Drink...
Eat...
A llways
With your stomach
Limet... limet...
Healf stomach
Is good...
Bada full food
Eating...
Mothley once
ok...
Every day
Not better for
Your body health...
Diside to eat food...
Daily...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Right in Front of the Army
"Where 'ave you been this week or more,
'Aven't seen you about the war'?
Thought perhaps you was at the rear
Guarding the waggons." "What, us? No fear!
Where have we been? Why, bless my heart,
Where have we been since the bloomin' start?
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army
Teaching 'em how to fight!"
Every separate man you see,
Sapper, gunner, and C.I.V.,
Every one of 'em seems to be
Right in front of the army!
Most of the troops to the camp had gone,
When we met with a cow-gun toiling on;
And we said to the boys, as they walked her past,
"Well, thank goodness, you're here at last!"
"Here at last! Why, what d'yer mean?
Ain't we just where we've always been?
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army,
Teaching'em bow to fight!"
Correspondents and Vets in force,
Mounted foot and dismounted horse,
All of them were, as a matter of course,
Right in the front of the army.
Old Lord Roberts will have to mind
If ever the enemy get behind;
For they'll smash him up with a rear attack,
Because his army has got no back!
Think of the horrors that might befall
An army without any rear at all!
Right in the front of the army,
Battling day and night!
Right in the front of the army,
Teaching 'em how to fight!
Swede attaches and German counts,
Yeomen (known as De Wet's Remounts),
All of them were, by their own accounts,
Right in the front of the army!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Stop Running
Time marches on
I learn to crawl, I learn to walk
You couldnt stop me from running
Stop me from running
Before I heard my name
Before I learned to talk
I knew I was running to something
Running to something
Into the arms of my god
Time marches on
And I awaken to the world
And Im still running to something
Running to something far away
Unseen by the others in the herd
Im only running to something
Running to something
Into the arms of my dream
I cant stop running
I cant stop running
I have a vision of myself breaking the finish line string
I still can hear it
This dream is calling
So Ill keep running
Time marches on
I start to trip, I start to fall
And now Im running from something
Running from something on my tail
Cant turn to look, cant hear the call
Im only running from something
Running from something
Running in fear I will fail
Meanwhile
Time marches on and on
And the strength to run may soon be gone
Now I watch the young ones coming
And its on their legs Im running
Into the arms of my god
Can you hear it? can you hear it?
Feet dont fail me now
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mrs. Ward
On friday afternoon at three o'clock
A passing lady looked into a shop
Her eyes lit up as this the sign she read
Recruiting office, that is what it said
Exacitedly she stepped inside to see
How her sons would fair if they were militry
The man in charge to her was very sweet
And said, "please sign here on this little sheet"
But when she got home her mind grew many fears
The message from the soldiers in the war rang in her ears
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
At six o'clock the lads came home from work
She told them what she'd done, they went beserk
We'll have to go to war and fight and die
And mrs. ward she wiped a tear from her eye
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Defeat?
WHO is it speaks of defeat? —
I tell you a Cause like ours
Is greater than defeat can know;
It is the power of powers!
As surely as the earth rolls round,
As surely as the glorious sun
Follows the great world moon-wave,
Must our Cause be won!
What is defeat to us? —
Learn what a skirmish tells,
While the great Army marches on
To storm earth's Hells!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Acres Wild
Ill make love to you
In all good places
Under black mountains
In open spaces.
By deep brown rivers
That slither darkly
Through far marches
Where the blue hare races.
Come with me to the winged isle ---
Northern fathers western child.
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marches of acres wild.
Ill make love to you
In narrow side streets
With shuttered windows,
Crumbling chimneys.
Come with me to the weary town ---
Discos silent under tiles
That slide from roof-tops, scatter softly
On concrete marches of acres wild.
By red bricks pointed
With cement fingers
Flaking damply from sagging shoulders.
Come with me to the winged isle ---
Northern fathers western child.
Where the dance of ages is playing still
Through far marches of acres wild.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Army Dreamers
B.f.p.o.*
Army dreamers.
Mammys hero.
B.f.p.o.
Mammys hero.
Our little army boy
Is coming home from b.f.p.o.
Ive a bunch of purple flowers
To decorate a mammys hero.
Mourning in the aerodrome,
The weather warmer, he is colder.
Four men in uniform
To carry home my little soldier.
What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didnt have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Tears oer a tin box.
Oh, jesus christ, he wasnt to know,
Like a chicken with a fox,
He couldnt win the war with ego.
Give the kid the pick of pips,
And give him all your stripes and ribbons.
Now hes sitting in his hole,
He might as well have buttons and bows.
What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didnt have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of all that
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers, oh...
(b.f.p.o.)
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
Army dreamers.
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Army, O, My Army!
My Army, O, my army! The time I dreamed of comes!
I want to see your colours; I want to hear your drums!
I heard them in my boyhood when all men’s hearts seemed cold;
I heard them as a Young Man—and I am growing old!
My army, O, my army! The signs are manifold!
My army, O, my army! My army and my Queen!
I used to sing your battle-songs when I was seventeen!
They came to me from ages, they came from far and near;
They came to me from Paris, they came to me from Here!—
They came when I was marching with the Army of the Rear.
My Queen’s dark eyes were flashing (oh, she was younger then!);
My Queen’s Red Cap was redder than the reddest blood of men!
My Queen marched like an Amazon, with anger manifest—
Her dark hair darkly matted from a knifegash in her breast
(For blood will flow where milk will not—her sisters knew the rest).
My legions ne’er were listed, they had no need to be;
My army ne’er was trained in arms—’twas trained in misery!
It took long years to mould it, but war could never drown
The shuffling of my army’s feet in the hunger-haunted town—
A little child was murdered, and so Tyranny went down.
My army kept no order, my army kept no time;
My army dug no trenches, yet died in dust and slime;
Its troops were fiercely ignorant, as to the manner born;
Its clothes were rags and tatters, or patches worn and torn—
Ah, me! It wore a uniform that I have often worn!
The faces of my army were ghastly as the dead;
My army’s cause was Hunger, my army’s cry was “Bread!”
It called on God and Mary and Christ of Nazareth;
It cried to kings and courtesans that fainted at its breath—
Its women beat their poor, flat breasts where babes had starved to death.
My army! My army—I hear the sound of drums
Above the roar of battles—and, lo! my army comes!
Nor creed of man may stay it—nor war, nor nation’s law—
The pikes go through the firing-lines as pitchforks go through straw—
Like pitchforks through the litter, while empires stand in awe.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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