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Sweep before your own door first before you sweep before the doorsteps of your neighbors.
Sweep first before your own door, before you sweep the doorsteps of your neighbors.
Sweep before your own door before you sweep before others.
We Dont Live Here No More
Make believe your on a boat with no water around.
Picture yourself at a circus, without any clowns.
Pretend that youre on a highway, without any end.
Then empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
Draw me a picture of an island without any seas.
Show me a map of the whole world without boundaries.
Build me a home without windows or doors to go in.
Then empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
-----
Dream of a time when the tides ebbing now rise again.
Then you will know that to die is not really to end.
Living and dieing are both your most intimate friends.
So empty the ashtray,
Sweep up the floor,
Put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
If somebody calls in the morning,
Just say we dont live here no more.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pick Up That Broom and Sweep, Boy
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
Nobody's peepin' on the way you sweep.
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
And you wont sleep,
If you don't eat.
So I suggest get off your seat...
Grab that broom and commence to sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
Nobody's peepin' on the way you sweep.
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
And you wont sleep,
If you don't eat.
So I suggest get off your seat...
Grab that broom and commence to sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
So don't try sneakin' tippy toe on your feet,
Across this floor because it creaks.
And when that happens...
My dog Pete,
Will do his best to sink his teeth.
Right into your funky meat.
And you'll go screamin down the street.
And I'll report you to the police.
Who will bring you back here...
Once again until you sweep.
And it you don't do it,
You'll join those who've been deleted!
'You better pick up that broom,
And sweep, boy! '
~I gotcha 'boy' ol'man! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorry
Wring out my guilt and hang it on the line
It's been raining all week
It won't get a chance to dry
I've been looking around the pantry for a box of
Sorries
I'm all run out yeah I'm all run out
Its not that hard to say I know
Its not that hard to say I know
Its not that hard to say so why can't I say it now
And its been swelling up inside like the kitchen
Sponge
It's in the back of my throat
It's in the tip of my tongue
If I could sweep it out the door
That could be the end
But this wind keeps blowing it in again
It's not that hard to say I know
It's not that hard to say I know
It's not that hard to say so why can't I say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
And I've been locking all the doors and drawing all the blinds
It always seems to find its way back inside
If I could sweep it out the door that could be the end
But this wind keeps blowing it in again
So why can't I say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
Say it now
song performed by by Bic Runga from Drive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Could Be!
spring...
redemption, rebirth.
the limbs of death bud,
the grasses sing
from their deep stillness.
shave the head,
let go of...
the arms of darkness,
frozen blankets of snow.
sweep the floors,
sweep the ashes,
leave the past for the fire.
scarred souls become gardens,
life birthed from experience.
that stranger smiling at the door,
could be love... could be!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Straight To My Heart
Well in a hundred years from now
They will attempt to tell us how
A scientific means to bliss
Will supercede the human kiss
A sub atomic chain
Will maybe galvanize your brain
A biochemic trance
Will eliminate romance
But why ever should we care
When there are arrows in the air
Formed by lovers ancient art
That go straight to my heart
A future sugar coated pill
Would give our lovers time to kill
I think theyre working far too much
For the redundancy of touch
But what will make me yours
Are a millions deadly spores
Formed by lovers ancient art
That go straight to my heart
Come into my door
Be the light of my life
Come into my door
Youll never have to sweep the floor
Come into my door
Be the light of my life
Come into my door
Come and be my wife
Ill be true. to no one but you
If its a future would we fear
We have tomorrows seeds right here
For you can hold them in your hand
Or let them fall into the sand
But if our love is pure
The only thing of which were sure
Then you can play your part
And fly straight to my heart
If I should seek immunity
And love you with impunity
Then the only thing to do
Is for me to pledge myself to you
But they only dealt one card
So for me it is not hard
Youre the bright star in my chart
You go straight to my heart
Come into my door
Be the light of my life
Come into my door
Youll never have to sweep the floor
Come into my door
Be the light of my life
Come into my door
Come and be my wife
Ill be true. to no one but you
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweep before your own door before you look after your neighbour's.
Sweep in front of your own door before you look after your neighbor's.
If every man would sweep before his own door, the city would soon be clean.
If every man would sweep his own door-step the city would soon be clean.
Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean.
quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweep the dirt from in front of your own door, and don't worry about your neighbour's.
I Am Not Your Broom
Now broom, you must now sweep for me
The dust it fills my room
No, john, I will not sweep for you
For I am not your broom
What nonsense are you speaking, broom
My words you must obey
Another life awaits me and
Im leaving you today
I am not your broom
I am not your broom
Ive had enough, Im throwing off
My chains of servitude
I am not your broom
I am not your broom
No longer must I sweep for you
For I am not your broom
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We'll Sweep Out The Ashes In The Morning
(Joyce Allsup)
Emmylou Harris & Barry Tashlin
We know it's wrong to let this fire burn between us
We've got to stop this wild desire in you and in me
So we'll let the flame burn once again until the thrill is gone
Then we'll sweep out the ashes in the morning.
We're two people caught up in the flame that has to die down soon
I didn't mean to start this fire and neither did you
So tonight when you hold me tight we'll let the fire burn on
And we'll sweep out the ashes in the morning.
--- Instrumental ---
Each time when we meet we both agree that it's for the last time
But out of your arms I'm out of my mind
So we'll taste the thrill of stolen love tonight until the dawning
And we'll sweep out the ashes in the morning.
Yes, we'll taste the thrill of stolen love tonight until the dawning
And we'll sweep out the ashes we'll sweep out the ashes
We'll sweep out the ashes in the morning...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of Shadows
"Sweep thy faint strings, Musician,
With thy long lean hand;
Downward the starry tapers burn,
Sinks soft the waning sand;
The old hound whimpers couched in sleep,
The embers smoulder low;
Across the walls the shadows
Come, and go.
Sweep softly thy strings, Musician,
The minutes mount to hours;
Frost on the windless casement weaves
A labyrinth of flowers;
Ghosts linger in the darkening air,
Hearken at the open door;
Music hath called them, dreaming,
Home once more."
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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