Money from poor men and balls from dogs, impossible to hide.
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Got You By The Balls
Hey mister businessman
Head of the company
Are you looking for a lady
One who likes to please?
Hey mister businessman
This one likes to tease
With a special service
In french quantities
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
And shes calling all the shots
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Hey mister businessman
High society
She can play the school girl
And spank you all you please
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
She dont go overtime
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
(kiss your balls goodbye)
Hang it left, hang it right,
Got you by the balls
Got your shorts, got your curlies
Got you - by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Yeah, yeah
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
song performed by by AC-DC

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogs (Homage)
Man’s best friend?
Why?
There is nothing quite as cute as a puppy
Dogs are more than pets, they’re companions
Dogs are fiercely loyal
Dogs protect life & property, even to their own demise
Dogs do not judge their masters
Dogs are grateful for any food fed them
Dogs can be trained to carry, guide, search, rescue and hunt
Dogs are great listeners
Dogs are ready to play anytime
Dogs are emotional sponges that absorb human misery
Dogs are wonderful match-makers and buffers
Dogs can chase away “The blues”
You can take a dog’s balls and he’ll still love you
Yes,
Dogs are 'Man’s best friend'
After all God is Dog spelled backwards...
poem by Ray Lucero

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A Man With Money
She wants a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
He buys her things she calls him honey,
she calls me poor boy,
What good could it do,
to give a love pure and true,
when any fool could understand,
she thinks that money makes the man,
She wants a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
She wants the things she'll buy with money,
not a poor boy,
a man with money,man with money,man with money,
Just down thwe street,
I know a place
When there asleep,
I'll cover my face,
I'll break the lock,open the door,
I'll slip inside, I'll rob the store,
Then I'll be a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
I'll buy her things, she'll call me honey,
not a poor boy,
A man with money, man with money, man with money, man with money
song performed by by Who

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suburbia
Lost in the high street, where the dogs run
Roaming suburban boys
Mothers got a hairdo to be done
She says theyre too old for toys
Stood by the bus stop with a felt pen
In this suburban hell
And in the distance a police car
To break the suburban spell
Lets take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
Break the window by the town hall
Listen, the siren screams
There in the distance, like a roll call
Of all the suburban dreams
Lets take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
I only wanted something else to do but hang around
Its on the front page of the papers
This is their hour of need
Wheres a policeman when you need one
To blame the colour tv?
Lets take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
Take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide, run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
Run with the dogs tonight
In suburbia
You cant hide
In suburbia
In suburbia
In suburbia
In suburbia
In suburbia
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fur Balls Are Coming!
The fur balls are coming!
The fur balls are coming!
Along with the tree mice
and the needle balls.
Joining them are the half dogs,
Floozy and Flossy,
Brutus and Sweetie Pie
and not forgetting Uncle Phidias.
They arrived once before
twenty years ago,
but no one took much notice of them.
So just watch this space
and I will be telling you
when they will be arriving again.
7 February 2009
poem by David Harris

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Balls
Im ever upper class high society
Gods gift to ballroom notoriety
I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say Ive got
The biggest balls of all
Chorus:
Ive got big balls
Ive got big balls
And theyre such big balls
Dirty big balls
And hes got big balls
And shes got big balls
But weve got the biggest balls of them all
And my balls are always bouncing
My ballroom always full
And everybody cums and cums again
If your name is on the guest list
No one can take you higher
Everybody says Ive got
Great balls of fire
Chorus
Some balls are held for charity
And some for fancy dress
But when theyre held for pleasure
Theyre the balls that I like best
My balls are always bouncing
To the left and to the right
Its my belief that my big balls
Should be held every night
Chorus
And Im just itching to tell you about them
Oh we had such wonderful fun
Seafood cocktail, crabs, crayfish...
Ball sucker
song performed by by AC-DC

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salvation
if reincarnation
be true, how many
men, women, dogs, cats
pigs have to die before
a single soul is saved?
i would say Poor cats,
poor dogs, poor poor animals
and lucky you soul...
there is a crowd to work
for your salvation
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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If I Had A Million In Money
Though money will not save you from the reaper and your mental depression won't cure
I'd rather be wealthy and unhappy than to be unhappy and poor
For how can some one poor be truly happy and it does not make much sense to me
When some says he is happy go lucky though he is living in poverty?
If I had a million in money I could help out a needy few
For if you are a poor ordinary battler not much to help out can you do
I know what it feels like without money one might say tell us something new
And that money can speak any language as ever happens to be true.
You may be a well meaning person a kind soul with a heart of gold
But lack of money is your major drawback the same old story as of old
And without money you cannot do much for others though you can help them in some other way
Like doing work for some needy person without asking for any pay.
If I had a million in money I could help a few friends in need
And others would say he is generous and by good example he lead
But I am as poor as a church mouse and I've never been financially secure
And like everyone lacking in money I cannot do much for the poor.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Your Masters Are Paid Millions
Masters of small spinning balls
golf balls tennis balls baseballs
basket balls foot balls
are worth millions
should be paid millions
each year for services
services to society
services to local global community
but police nurses teachers
should be paid menial wages
such are not main players
players of great glory games
what is their service
service to the community worth
is it really worth so little
let me entertain you
while you watch watch watch
watch a poor police person take a bribe
watch a poor nurse sell some work drugs
watch a teacher change careers
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Impossible
If they had ever told me how sweet a kiss could be
I would have said impossible, impossible for me
And if they said Id find you beyond the rainbows end
I would have said impossible, impossible, my friend
To dream about what might have been
Is strange enough for me
But now it seems Im living in
A dream too beautiful to be
If they had said a moonbeam could calm a stormy sea
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
song performed by by Nat King Cole, music by Steve Allen, lyrics by Steve Allen (1956)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh To Be Wealthy And Famous
Oh to be wealthy and famous living in a big house by the sea
With a Rolls Royce in my garage of money worries quite free
Seen as a successful person with heaps of money to spend
Everyone would want to know me everyone would be my friend.
I could help the poor and needy for others I could do good
I could help you out then poor fellow instead of saying I would help you if I could
Money it speaks every language pity the poor and downtrod
Surely there is nothing greater than money the great paper god.
I could do wonders with money help those in dire poverty
Be an example to others to worthy causes donate generously
Instead I struggle for survival one of the poor of our Street
Life for me an uphill battle struggling for to make ends meet.
Oh to be wealthy and famous the wealthiest man in the Town
I could be generous with money help those financially down
Instead I am just a poor battler who would wish to be my friend
I who must be careful with money and count every dollar I spend?
poem by Francis Duggan

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Big Ball's In Cowtown (feat. Asleep At The Wheel)
George Straight & Ricky Skaggs & Asleep At The Wheel
(Big balls in cowtown, yeah.)
(Come on fiddle.. yeah... sure)
Working on the railroad, sleeping on the ground,
Eating saltine crackers, ten cents a pound.(ha)
Chorus:
Big balls in cowtown - well all go down.
Big balls in cowtown - well dance around.
(Ehhhh, come here ma, the hogs done got me).
--- Instrumental ---
(yea...) (mind if I sing one George)
Ill go to cowtown, Ill dance around.
Board up your windows - big balls in town.
Chorus:
Big balls in cowtown - well all go down.
Big balls in cowtown - well dance around.
--- Instrumental ---
Put on your new shoes, put on you gown.
Shake off them sad blues - big balls in town.
Chorus:
Big balls in cowtown - well all go down.
Big balls in cowtown - well dance around.
(Come on Ricky, fiddle now.)
--- Instrumental ---
Everybodys smiling, you cant find a frown. (ha)
Girls are all happy cause big balls in town. (that's right)
Chorus:
Big balls in cowtown - well all go down.
Big balls in cowtown - (yeah...a)
Big balls in town... (Haa...)
song performed by by George Strait

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money
When I had money, money, O!
I knew no joy till I went poor;
For many a false man as a friend
Came knocking all day at my door.
Then felt I like a child that holds
A trumpet that he must not blow
Because a man is dead; I dared
Not speak to let this false world know.
Much have I thought of life, and seen
How poor men’s hearts are ever light;
And how their wives do hum like bees
About their work from morn till night.
So, when I hear these poor ones laugh,
And see the rich ones coldly frown—
Poor men, think I, need not go up
So much as rich men should come down.
When I had money, money, O!
My many friends proved all untrue;
But now I have no money, O!
My friends are real, though very few.
poem by William Henry Davies

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That Money Speaks Every Language
That money speaks every language has often been said before
And what also applies to money is much always wants more
And that moneyed people rule the World is something we all know
The more money they accumulate the more their power does grow.
Compared to those in poverty the millionaires seem few
And in saying that money speaks every language is not saying anything new
For every millionaire there is thousands in poverty
It is money and the lack of it that causes inequality.
That with money speaks every language most surely would agree
That's how it was and that's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
The poor sad pauper of the street to greatness none inspire
It is those who have heaps of money that others do admire.
Their dreams of success and wealth and fame so many do pursue
And that money speaks every language so happens to be true
For the poor of the poor suburb success seems far away
And the gap between the haves and the have nots is widening by the day.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Impossible!
it is impossible to believe in compassion,
and to just stand by watching injustice upon
injustice being heaped on the backs of the poor!
it is impossible to be spiritual without being
human enough to feel the hunger of the hungry!
impossible to believe in love without being angered
when you see countless people being thrown
away and cast to the side like human trash!
it is impossible to remain silent when you can
hear the thundering tears of the children!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Money O! Money
Money, money and money,
The world runs after money;
Some die ‘cause of money,
And some die for money.
The money rules the world,
The world is its creator.
But now the world is afraid -
For the money has turned to be its destroyer.
The money is the ruler,
The world is its slave;
The money has turned the world -
Into a grave.
The money drew the line -
Between the rich & the poor;
The money created infelicity,
That’s to be sure.
poem by Nilesh Roy

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Ball Of Kerrymuir
Four-and-twenty virgins come down from Inverness,
And when the Ball was over, there were four-and-twenty less,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all..
There was doin' in the parlor, there was doin' on the stones,
But ya couldn't a hear the music for the wheezin' and the groans,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The undertaker, he was there, all wrapped up in a shroud,
Swingin' from the chandelier, and peein' on the crowd,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The village cripple, he was there, ah he could not do much,
So he lined the ladies against the wall, and he did 'em with his crutch,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
Miss Mary McPherson was standin' way up front,
Some posies in her hand, and a carrot in her(unintelligible mumble),
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The Village postman, he was there, but the poor man had the pox,
He could not do the lassies, so he did the letter box,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
The Village Magician, he was there, he gave us all a laugh,
He pulled his foreskin over his head, and he vanished up his ass,
Singin' balls to your partner, your ass against the wall,
If ya never been had on a Saturday night, ya never been had at all.
song performed by by Jim Croce

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Dogged by comparisons
Behind the gym on the non-stop route out of town
and the housing estate and the light industrial
awaiting a so-called ‘developer’
there’s this park – correction, Dogshit Central;
once, I guess, it was a ‘common’; now,
even ‘civic amenity area’ is too good for it;
at the far end, an occasional gardener clips a hedge,
prunes the few rose bushes once a year;
this end, it’s all railings and rough grass
and dogs.
Not dogs and people; dogs. At weekends,
dogs and people, yes; balls and sticks are thrown,
exercise taken, tails wagged;
humans are human once again..
weekdays, how convenient
to combine the dog-walkies with
the shopping; leave them there for an hour or so,
they’ll be safe, make their own entertainment..
so – no balls, no sticks, no masters – what do they do?
Today, there’s five of them in a merry pack,
tongues out, tails flying, bounding around half-turning,
eager for more joy, more joy,
using twice the energy they’d use for rabbit-stalking…
celebrating their dogness, and pure being, celebrating life itself…
Now gather their five owners in a posse…
a sorry bunch of humans,
uncomfortable in the company of their kind,
at best, living the wild life through their dogs,
at worst, not fit to own a dog…
don’t you wonder that dogs
don’t lose their sanity, their joy,
their faithfulness, their loyalty,
having to look after the spiritual welfare
of this two-legged and unnatural,
inferior and drearier
branch of evolution, the human race?
They who bury their hopes and fears
to dig them up again tomorrow,
to chew them over in regret and guilt...
poem by Michael Shepherd

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Rascal
He prowls among the dogs
With fearless pride
Dogs attack him
He does not run, nor hide
The cockiness in his walk
As he troddens from step to step
The dogs chase him
With unrelentless effort
He reverses the attack
As we laugh with glee
The Rascals run
A cat chases dog
How can this be?
poem by Matt Mondschein

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