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Angelyne
(cover: gary u.s. bonds. written by springsteen)
He was a bouncer in a joint called tonys body shop
She was a night cashier down at the stop n shop
He was kinda good-lookin
And she was kinda fun
They met neath that big oak tree
Out where the river runs
Little angelyne, little angelyne
As the sun goes down and the moonlight shines
Back of a greyhound bus sit two lovers entwined
Just big bill and little angelyne
She was just in from texas, didnt know her way around
So he took her to a roadhouse on the edge of town
In the beerhall light she looked so fine
And so he popped the question that was on his mind
It was a simple affair, only a friend or two
Preacher asked if they did, they said they do
She bought two tickets with her daddys american express
And hopped a greyhound bus in her wedding dress
Little angelyne, little angelyne
As the sun goes down and the moonlight shines
Back of a greyhound bus sit two lovers entwined
Just big bill and little angelyne
In a six dollar motel with the honey bun
With seven glorious days in the nevada sun
He played the tables, she pumped the slots full of dimes
They came back broke but they had a good time
Now many fell apart in the years come and gone
But big bill and little angel theyd last on and on
They held together when the times grew thin
A little boy that looked like her, and a girl that looked like him
So mister dont you pay it no mind
Let the sun go down and the moonlight shine
Back of a greyhound bus sit two lovers entwined
Just big bill and little angelyne
Little angelyne, little angelyne
As the sun goes down and the moonlight shines
Back of a greyhound bus sit two lovers entwined
Just big bill and little angelyne
Little angelyne, little angelyne
As the sun goes down and the moonlight shines
Back of a greyhound bus sit two lovers entwined
Just big bill and little angelyne
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Though the mastiff be gentle, yet bite him not by the lip.
Though your mastiff be gentle, do not bite his lip.
Ballade 1
The stag was very proud of his swiftness,
Of running ten miles in one breath,
And the wild boar was proud to be fierce,
And the sheep praised her woolly fleece,
And the horse its beauty, and the buck was proud
Of crossing the plain at a bound,
And the one proud of strength was the bull,
The ermine in having a furry skin;
And to them all he said from his shell:
'The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
What I see first are lions, leopards, bears,
Running the countryside, wolves and tigers
Under pursuit by greyhound and mastiff
And the shouts of men, so hated that if
They're caught each person will attack,
Because of the destruction of the flock;
They're thieves, treacherous and wicked,
And merciless, and for that detested.
Are they strong and fast? Good at a run?
The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
Many see him and the path he's on,
Enclosed in the shell he carries along,
They don't do him harm, they let him be,
And so he goes from week to week,
As many go in their own poor realm
Who live good lives in their simple gown,
And if the world gives them little at all,
They still go on with its good will.
And cow and calf have the meadow's run,
And the snail will get to Easter just as soon.
Prince, among the strong, the rich, the great
There's a lesson they rarely think about;
Their haste can't bring the future on:
The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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San Francisco Is a Lonely Town
Two happy people on a Greyhound bus,
We came here looking for a life for us,
But the nightlife is her new life and the only thing I've found is,
San Francisco is a lonely town.
Oh, there were good times for a little while,
But now her new friends say I cramp her style,
I guess I'm only in the way now and she don't need me hanging 'round,
San Francisco is a lonely town.
Now she's out there somewhere across the Bay
And she'll be wondering where I am when she gets in today
She'll find I've left her a one-way ticket home
And while she stands there crying all alone
And while the Greyhound keeps on rolling I'll pray the Lord she's found
San Francisco is a lonely town.
San Francisco is a lonely town
song performed by by Charlie Rich, lyrics by Ben Peters from The Fabulous Charlie Rich (September 1969)
Submitted by Varmint Tracks
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Paddy Casey
When Paddy Casey left the Clara road forever
The feeling was widespread he would be back
For he could never be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
Three times a week to Cork track he did journey
From Inchaleigh just out of Millstreet Town
Sometimes through Macroom and sometimes on the narrow high road
That winds along by Mushera up and down.
I doubt that he could feel happy in heaven
If he could not watch two greyhounds course a hare
In January at the Millstreet Coursing Meeting
In the Town Park I fancy he's still there.
He is one I still remember Paddy Casey
I knew him since I was a five year old
He was a cheerful and kindhearted fellow
And you well might say he had a 'heart of gold'.
I recall his renowned track bitch Rainbow Lady
Duhallow's fastest greyhound in her prime
At Cork track she won many open races
And bettered thirty seconds every time.
He had so many friends around Cork County
And the feeling was widespread he would be back
For Paddy could not be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Time I Saw Him
(michael masser/pam sawyer)
Last time I saw him
He sweetly kissed my lips
Last time I saw him
He said:Ill be back for more of this
Last time I saw him
We were crying at the bus
I knew he hated leaving
But he had to set us up
I gave him money
I know I invested well
Mamma doesnt trust him
But he loves me I can tell
Each time the greyhound
Arrives at nine o clock
But I dont start my crying
till that last mans gotten off
Last time I saw him
Last time I saw my honey
Last time I saw him
He was greyhound-bound
But Im still waiting here
Without a fear
That bus will someday turn around
I had no letter
Its been six months, maybe better
I try forgetting him
But I love him more then ever
I have decided
Ive waited long enough
If there was nothing wrong
He would return right on that bus
There must be trouble
So Im leavin on the double
If he cant get to me
I know he needs me desperately
Last time I saw him
Last time I saw my honey
Last time I saw him
He was looking fine
And as he waved goodbye
He said dont cry
Im coming back, no rain or shine
Last time I saw him
Last time I saw my honey
Last time I saw him
He was greyhound-bound
And as he waved goodbye
He said dont cry
Im coming back, no rain or shine
La de da, la da do
Do la da da, da da da
Last time I saw him
He was looking fine
And as he waved goodbye
He said dont cry
Im coming back, no rain or shine
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde
The first time we met you were a kennel maid,
You gave me a tip I got me forecast paid,
You were holding a greyhound in trap number one,
Your white coat was shining in the afternoon sun.
Now we're both together,
We're never gonna break apart, no no,
'Cause we're a happy couple you and me,
With a greyhound at either knee.
I'll have ten shillings to win on Camera Flash, young man,
What dog's that, it's a deuce, look at it.
There was nothing in my life bigger than beer,
There was nothing in my life bigger than beer,
'Ceptin' you, little darling,
'Ceptin' you, little darling,
We're a happy couple you and me,
With a greyhound at either knee.
We go to the dog track on Saturday night,
We put all our money on a dog that we like,
A kiss and a cuddle, a hot meat pie,
Two dollar tickets and a starry sky.
There was nothing in my life bigger than beer,
There was nothing in my life bigger than beer,
'Ceptin' you, little darling,
'Ceptin' you, little darling,
We're a happy couple you and me,
With a baby on either knee.
Yes it's you little darling,
Yes it's you little darling,
Now it's you little darling,
Now it's you.
Girl, where's me wage packet ?????,
Ah I'll put twenty-five knicker please on Gallop Printer,
Oh, I hope the wife don't find out,
Yes, it's sure to win, isn't it,
Yes, I know, it's a good dog, I saw it run at White City,
Just last week, broke the record, Gallop Printer,
Nice dog, yes, lovely form, lovely buttocks.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunspots In The House Of The Last Scapegoat
It was on the rotating eyes
It was all on the same postcard
It was all on the same damn shirt
Said to sleep in the same sears camp house
It was all in the great state parks
It was all on the same greyhound
It was all so many miles
Beneath the dirty brown dirt
Twenty miles down the islands
The biggest mall on earth
It was all in the same rest stop
It was wall on the same damn shirt
It was all on the same greyhound
Sunspots
In the house of the late scapegoat
Be aware the paints still peeling
All muscle cars made of lead
I got myself a fine fine fine fine friend
It was all in the next gray ghost
It was all in the same damn place
The parts to pound attractive
Your feeling you owe on your size is bleeding
Sunspots
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unwed Fathers
In an appalachian, greyhound station
She sits there waiting, in a family way
Goodbye brother, tell mom I love her
Tell all the others, Ill write someday
Chorus:
From an teenage lover, to an unwed mother
Kept undercover, like some bad dream
While unwed fathers, they cant be bothered
They run like water, through a mountain stream
In a cold and gray town, a nurse says lay down
this aint no playground, and this aint home
Someones children, out having children
In a gray stone building, all alone
On somewhere else bound, smokey mountain greyhound
She bows her head down, hummin lullabies
your daddy never, meant to hurt you ever
he just dont live here, but youve got his eyes
Repeat chorus:
Well, they run like water,
Through a mountain stream
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the long run, the greyhound kills the hare.
The greyhound that starts many hares kills none.
Mountleader Rolf
On June the eight in the year 03 the champion blue brindled greyhound from Millstreet Town
Mountleader Rolf owned by Daniel and Geraldine O Mahony raced his way into renown
By winning the St Ledger Classic for his proud owners a great night
The son of Smooth Rumble and Mountleader Diva had his backers cheering loudly in delight.
Another champion greyhound from Millstreet had the St Ledger Final crowd
Cheering loudly at the trophy presentation and his owners happy and so proud
Were the toast of the night at Limerick and their track record holder at the track
Proved for his top class opposition far too tough a nut to crack.
But three months later in a final at Youghal his connections were out of luck
When their champion dog from Millstreet by tragedy was struck
He had to be put to sleep after taking a very heavy fall
Perhaps for the Mahonys in their many years of breeding and racing greyhounds their saddest night of all.
At the Limerick Track on St Ledger night he had proved himself a canine great
But the legendary dog known as Mountleader Rolf met with a tragic fate
In a big final at Youghal Track when he took a heavy fall
But he had his night of glory and greyhound racing fans him will recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is the nature of the greyhound to carry a long tail.
Why not be oneself That is the whole secret of a successful appearance. If one is a greyhound why try to look like a Pekinese
quote by Edith Sitwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fast as the hare runs, the greyhound outruns her, since he catches her.
All About You
In the Grandville greyhound station in the lightly drizzlin' rain
Sittin' on my suitcase goin' quietly insane all about you babe all about you
All about you and then no feelin' double dealin' things that you do
Uh every man in Grandville says he knows you well
Burn your ears if you could hear the stories that they tell
All about you babe all about you
All about you and then no feelin' double dealin' things that you do
[ guitar ] They say you're picked up every Thursday in a rich man's limousine
And some cat in San Quentin keeps on havin' nasty dreams
All about you babe...
[ guitar ] And now the summer sun may burn my back and these tears may dim my sight
But before I die there's a dirty book I'm gonna write
All about you babe...
[ guitar ] Yeah the Grandville greyhound station
I waited on that night tell me you ain't gonna show
And I just go on sing this silly song
All about you tell the world all about you
Tell 'em what you are and tell 'em what you wish yeah I'm gonna put your name in
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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11. Coffee & Dolls
It was a storefront for a small-time numbers runner,
pretending to be some sort of grocery. Coffeemakers
and Bustello cans populated the shelves, sparsely.
Who was fooled. The boxes bleached in the sun,
the old guys sat inside on summer lawn chairs,
watching tv. The applause from the talk shows and game shows
washed out the propped-open door like distant rain.
It closed for a few months. The slick sedan disappeared.
One spring day, it reopened, and this time a sign
decorated the window: COFFEE & DOLLS.
Yarn-haired, gingham-dressed floppy dolls
lolled among the coffee cans. A mastiff puppy,
the size and shape of a tipped-over fire hydrant,
guarded as the sedan and the old guys returned.
I don't know about you, but I've been looking
for a narrative in which suffering makes sense.
I mean, the high wail of the woman holding her dead child,
the wail that filled the street. I mean the sudden
fatal blooms on golden skin. I mean the crack deaths,
I mean the ice-cream truck that cruised the alphabets
and sold crack to the same deedle-dee-dee tune as fudgsicles.
I mean the raw scabs of the beaten mastiff, and many other
things.
poem by April Bernard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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