That is beggar's fare, said the dame, when she fried eggs with the sausages.
Related quotes
My Favoured Fare
Some poets sing of scenery;
Some to fair maids make sonnets sweet.
A fig for love and greenery,
Be mine a song of things to eat.
Let brother bards divinely dream,
I'm just plain human, as you see;
And choose to carol such a theme
As ham and eggs and tea.
Just two fried eggs or maybe three,
With lacy rims and sunside up,
Pink coral ham and amber tea
Poured in a big, fat china cup.
I have no crave for finer fare;
That's just the chuck for chaps like me.
Aye, if I were a millionaire--
Just ham and eggs and tea.
When of life's fussiness I tire,
And on my skull I wear a cap,
As tartan-shawled beside the fire
I stroke the kitten on my lap:
Give me no broth and chicken breast;
My last repast shall hearty be . . .
Oh how I'll sup with chuckling zest
On ham and eggs and tea!
poem by Robert William Service

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Dont Quote Me On That
Its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slice.
Did you see the one, yeah yeah,
The one they wrote in the paper just the other day,
Well, well would you believe it,
Well what I said, they took it all the wrong way.
Now youve gotta be careful, bout what you say,
Cos theyve got a bad habit
Were you reading in between the lines?
Or is that what I said? , now I just cant remember
They seem to have a very good memory though
But as far as Im concerned, as as far as Im concerned
You don;t have to be black white, chinese or anything really
Just enjoy, shut up, listen and dance...
Its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that, dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that, please dont quote me
Dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that
Hey hey, you know something, I said I liked that guy,
But thats not what I read in the paper
I dont have anything against them,
Its just eggs bacon and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that please dont quote me
Dont quoe me on that
Dont quote me on that.
You know, now we get worried about what we say
We shouldnt be that way
You know, I dont care who comes,
Cos as far as Im concerned,
Its, eggs bacon beans and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that
Dontr quote me on that
Please dont quote me
Mama mama, you know Im still friends with mickey
They say I shouldnt like him anymore, because Im all white,
Well hes allright by me
Dont quote me on that
Please dont quote me
Dont quote me on that
Dont quote me on that
Now what I do, I bring all my old friends along to see the show
And if you have the wrong ideas well,
Its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slice
Dont quote me on that oh no
(dont quote me on that)
Please dont quote me
(dont quote me on that)
I never said that
(dont quote me on that)
Thats not what I meant
(dont quote me on that)
Well I suppose you could take it that way
(dont quote me on that)
But thats not what I meant to say
(dont quote me on that)
Wont you give me another chance
(dont quote me on that)
Please please
Dont quote me on that....
Id like to say thank you to pete, peter tosh
And all the other people who come and they believe in us for the fun and the music
Cos all Ive got to say to you press now is
Its all bacon beans and a fried slice
Eggs bacon beans and a fried slive
Go to maggies caff
132 liverpool road
Just down the road, just round the corner
Only theres not much corner
Its just chairs and tables and theyve even got a space invaders machine...
A cup of tea, thats fine for me,
Cos its all eggs bacon beans and a fried slive
Are you sure you turned that tape recorder off?
Are you sure? ,
Are you sure?
song performed by by Madness

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Sausage Sam
Our Sam is quite fussy when it comes down to food,
Unless it's just right she'll just sit there and brood;
But if truth it be told, when she's in the right mood,
She sure does love her sausages.
Now a sausage is only a long tube of meat,
That you cook on a grill in a great deal of heat;
But for these our Sammy would fly down the street,
'Cause she sure does love her sausages.
'The bigger the better' I once heard her say,
'I could eat two big jumbos then go out to play;
And for supper I'll eat two again, If I may,
'Cause I sure do love them sausages.'
A nice piece of lamb isn't her cup of tea,
And what she DOES eat wouldn't fill up a flea;
But at fighting I think she would kill forty-three
If they stood in the way of her sausages.
Now you wouldn't believe if you look at her figure,
How such fatty food just does not make her bigger;
If 'they' grew in the earth she would be a great digger,
I tell you she LOVES her sausages.
Well each to his own, I suppose that it's true,
And our Sam's got the right to like what she wants to;
When she gets up to heaven 'they'll' be on the menu,
Then FOREVER she'll be eating sausages.
(Written Sept 1994)
poem by John Carter Brown

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Junk The Magic Dragon
Mellow yellow acid kiss
Warhol painted callio-trips
Spining, spining, spin again
Coke, tar, crystal methane thrill
Cash in dime for a ride
My brain like eggs is cracked and fried
Cash in dime for a ride
My brain like eggs is cracked and fried
Junk the magic dragon
Lives, in my pain
Junk the magic dragon, yeah
Love will always end, it ends in pain
(?)
Bones are pulled so tight on skin
Like canvas tent poles or something
I need smiles on my lips
Oh, but it gives incentives
Cash in dime for a ride
My brain like eggs is cracked and fried
Cash in dime for a ride
My stone black jeans look just real fine
Junk the magic dragon
Lives, in my pain
Junk the magic dragon, yeah
Love will always end, it ends in pain
(?)
song performed by by Marilyn Manson

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I love eggs fried over medium.
quote by Slick Rick

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Dame Dame Dame (Amor Esta Noche)
El reloj
ya marc medianoche
y otra vez encontr
que tan slo me acompaña la TV
El soplar
de ese viento afuera
vive la deolacin
me oprime con angustia el corazn
No hay mas que soledad
nadie, ni por piedad
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
alguien que me ayude
a las sombras borrar
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
hasta que amanezca
ver el dia aclarar
Tantos hay
con gran suerte y fortuna
todo pueden conseguir
tan distinto a lo que tengo que vivir
Aburrida me encuentro esta noche
y la gran oscuridad
es mi siempre obligada amistad
No hay mas que soledad
nadie, ni por piedad
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
alguien que me ayude
a las sombras borrar
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
hasta que amanezca
ver el dia aclarar
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
No hay mas que soledad
nadie, ni por piedad
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
alguien que me ayude
a las sombras borrar
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
hasta que amanezca
ver el dia aclarar
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
alguien que me ayude
a las sombras borrar
Dame, dame, dame
amor esta noche
hasta que amanezca
ver el dia aclarar
song performed by by ABBA

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The Spaewife
OH, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.
An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Hoo a’things come to be whaur we find them when we try,
The lasses in their claes an’ the fishes in the sea.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why lads are a’ to sell an’lasses a’ to buy;
An’ naebody for dacency but barely twa or three.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Gin death’s as shure to men as killin’ is to kye,
Why God has filled the yearth sae fu’ o’ tasty things to pree.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
The reason o’ the cause an’ the wherefore o’ the why,
Wi’ mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

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Big T
BIG T LOVES HIS FOOD
ONCE IT’S EDIBLE..IT’S ALL GOOD
WE HOPE HE EATS NOTHING ELSE
BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY..HE’S OUT TO PLEASE HIMSELF
BISCUITS, ROLLS, SWEETS, ANYTHING CAN BE A TREAT
EGGS TWO AT A TIME, SAUSAGES, BACON..ANY MEAT
NICELY DONE AND HEAPED UP HIGH, WITH JUST A LITTLE MORE SALT
WE HOPE SOON THAT IT’LL BE HIS DECISION TO CALL A HALT.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers

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Dink's Song
(b.gibson/b.lomax/j.lomax)
This is a blues traditional that has been performed also by bob dylan. jeff performed it several times in his concerts, and he performed it also live on-air for the music faucet, a wfmu radio broadcast, on october 11 1992.
If i had wings like noah's dove
I'd fly up the river to the one i love
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
If i met your man, who was long and tall
I'd hit his body like a cannon ball
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
One of these days and it won't be long
Call my name and i'll be gone
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
I remember one night, a drizzling rain
Round my heart i felt an achin' pain
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
When i wore my apron low
Couldn't keep you from my do'
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
Now i wear my apron high
Scarcely ever see you passing by
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
Now my apron's up to my chin
You pass my door and you won't come in
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
If i had listened to what my mama said
I'd be at home in my mama's bed
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
song performed by by Jeff Buckley

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Discover The Universe
Eggs are falling! Eggs are falling! !
Of blackberries, strawberries and rasberries;
The man with the Bible is about to read.
Of the walking-talking Bible,
Of red wine and candle lights of hope!
Discover the universe by learning the unknown.
Eggs are falling! Eggs are falling! !
The world is with much darkness around us;
Where, a teacher always becomes a student.
Of the half-moon stables,
Of the full-moon houses,
In the middle of St.Pauli with my words;
This universe is full of new things to learn from.
Of the lines of poetry,
Of the acts of love and peace;
Eggs are falling! Eggs are falling! !
Of red rooms of roses,
Of blue rooms of love;
Respectable to a muse so sweet like,
Roses of the night!
To walk through the Saxon forest like,
An art by the mile;
From dusk to dawn like,
An African in blue!
A poem by the yard,
Of fried potato-chips and fish;
To walk along the Elbe from sunrise to sunset.
Along the ykes of love,
Alpong the muse of one's heart;
These are the views of the walking-talking Bible with,
Everyone on board! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Beggar To Beggar Cried
'TIME to put off the world and go somewhere
And find my health again in the sea air,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And make my soul before my pate is bare.-
'And get a comfortable wife and house
To rid me of the devil in my shoes,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And the worse devil that is between my thighs.'
And though I'd marry with a comely lass,
She need not be too comely -- let it pass,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'But there's a devil in a looking-glass.'
'Nor should she be too rich, because the rich
Are driven by wealth as beggars by the itch,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And cannot have a humorous happy speech.'
'And there I'll grow respected at my ease,
And hear amid the garden's nightly peace.'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'The wind-blown clamour of the barnacle-geese.'
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Love's Menu: Pommes de Terre Frites
Fried potatoes is a dish
Good as any one could wish:
Cheap it is, and appetizing;
Turn a saint to gormandizing:
Good and cheap and tasty too,
Just the thing for Love's Menu.
Love is dainty, and his food,
Even though common, must be good:
Love hath little to disburse,
So his fare must fit his purse:
Love hath fickle appetite,
We his palate must invite:
Crisp and hot, the price a sou,
Fried Potatoes, Love's Menu.
poem by William Gay

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Dame Amor
(graham russell, michael sherwood, jimmy haun)
No basta pintar un cuadro
Solo de ti mismo
Si los colores son para dos...
Te quiero, te quiero
No basta sonar diamantes
Cuando en tu mano los diamantes
No reflejan un puro amor
Te quiero, te quiero
Caer lentamente, que sensacion!
Como una vez yo a ti le ame
Ahora te amo mas y mas
Dame amor,
Dame amor, dame todo lo que das
Dame tiempo
Y esperanzas
Dame tu corazon
No basta guardar secretos
Secretos con ti mismo
Si la verdad quieres susurrar
Que remos...
Te quiero
Recuerdos...nos llaman
Es esto una realidad
Como una vez yo a ti te ame
Ahora vuelvo a un por mas
Dame amor
Dame amor
Dame todo lo que das
Dame tiempo
Y esperanzas
Dame tu corazon
Dame amor
Dame fuerza
Dame lo que quieras dar
Sin cesar
Y sin fin
Dame todo lo que dos
Sostemne
Ensename
Tomame por completo
Porque nuestros corazones
Se merecen uno al otro
Dame amor
song performed by by Air Supply

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Name Sakes
BUT where's the brown drifter that went out alone ?
-Roll and go, and fare you well-
' Was her name
Peggy Nutten?
' That name is my own.
Fare you well, my sailor.
They sang in the dark, ' Let her go ! Let her go ! '
And she sailed to the West, where the broad waters flow;
And the others come back, but . . . the bitter winds blow.
Ah, fare you well, my sailor.
The women, at evening, they wave and they cheer.
-Roll and go, and fare you well-
They're waiting to welcome their lads at the pier.
Fare you well, my sailor.
They're all coming home in the twilight below;
But there's one little boat. . . . Let her go ! Let her go!
She carried my heart, and a heart for the foe.
Ah, fare you well, my sailor.
The
Nell
and the
Maggie
, the
Ruth
and the Joan,
-'-Roll and go, and fare you well-
They come to their name-sakes, and leave me alone.
Fare you well, my sailor.
And names are kep' dark, for the spies mustn't know;
But they'll look in my face, an' I think it will show;
Peggy Nutten's my name. Let her go ! Let her go!
Ah, fare you well, my sailor.
poem by Alfred Noyes

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Green Eggs & Ham
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
I do not like them here or there
I do not like them anywhere
I do not like them in a boat
I would not, could not, with a goat
I will not eat them in the rain
I do not like them on a train
I do not like them in a box
I will not eat them with a fox
I do not like them in a house
I would not, could not, with a mouse
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
Green eggs and ham
Green eggs and ham
Dont like green eggs and ham
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic

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Cafe Of Dreams
welcome to the cafe
the cafe of dreams
the cattle stand dry
dry of mouth parched
awaiting their slaughter
so that a tired worker
may enjoy a good steak
meat pie or sausages
ground meat salt herbs spices
fried lovingly in your frying pan
not young mince meat dying
politic rhetoric in Afghanistan
slaugherhouse cafe is open
not only for teenagers who
dine 'Café des Abbatoirs'
die daily like passing cattle
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Finnan
Wan they shew me thee inkbluts, I like to pretend I dunt recognize em. It pisses them uf methinks, but eats thee only way twe get me jollys ere. Not give em too much powr. Yeah. Thataways they'll nevr be able twe take away me sowle. The one that luks like a vagina…I tell em luks like a butterfly. I tell em they all luk like butterflies when we both know they aint no butterflies left on this ere earth. They all flew away thru that big ole in the the North Pole twe be wit God in evn. One of thee inkbluts came alive on thee paper while they were testin me, but nvr wood I say not a thing. I tried twe tell em once the prepaid turns on the tele on in me room and they hurt me. I wunt be makin that same mistake twice. For breakfast ever morn we get powdered eggs. I wish I knew the bloke invented powdered eggs. I'd ask im wut theys really made of. When I lived in Devon I worked on a chicken farm. They'd keep thee lights on night and day to keep thee hens a-layin. So, they's lots and lots of eggs and no need for make believe eggs. I slather em with ketchup remembering delicious steaks I use to make wit fried onions until I came ere. And gravy too. The blood…it nvr needed a lick a salt for flavorin.I guess I'll just stay ere until the butterflies metamorphasize and come back ome.
poem by Sara Fielder

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Don't Take It Personal
I feel you there,
Waiting for me.
Anticipating something I will say...
To excite your mind.
Or put you to sleep instead.
And each time I compose,
I regard it as a blessing to do so.
There are others who think of this...
As an artform they can quickly dismiss.
However...
There is much more to this,
Than the reading of lines...
For rhyme and how those rhymes might fit.
Or the prose of it and if it makes sense.
I practice the 'science of an artform'.
And it is going to change.
Just like all of nature does.
But nothing can describe how these 'messages' begin.
A poet lets it flow.
Others throw together pieces and bits...
Hoping someone reads it with an understanding,
In their minds that lingers and sits.
You know...
Like some who study for a quiz.
And 'think' they've got all the right answers?
Some submit their writings just for 'ratings'
As if to satisfy an ego.
And the greatest of those who do what they do...
Do it to let it go!
Look at Picasso's work.
Or read anything from Beck!
Haiku...?
'Two birds nestle in one nest.
Eggs yoke the heavens.
But none are white or fried.'
I...
On the other hand,
Feel extremely blessed and pleased...
God has awarded me this gift,
As a form of therapy.
And using this 'method' to release my thoughts,
To free them for others who are unsuspecting...
When I'm done with one revelation,
I am on to another one.
So if anyone anticipates what I have to say...
In the way I say it.
Don't take it personal.
I've already done that!
~Two birds nestle in one nest.
Eggs yoke the heavens.
But none are white or fried.~
*That makes absolutely no sense! *
Perhaps not to you.
But neither does this statement to me...
'Let us make man in 'our' image.'
What 'image' is that?
If the Creator is unseen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Satire II: En Excedent 'Ca Va' (Un Bout de Semiologie) 'Fare Fair' Excess (A Semiological Dig)
'Demandez vous de moi, 'Ca va? '? ' 'Ask of me, 'Fare fair? '? '
'Ca va? ...Ca va? ' 'Fare fair? ...Fare fair? '
'Ca va....Ca va? ' 'Fare fair....Fare fair? '
'Tout va.' 'All fair.'
'Beaucoup trop 'Ca va'.' 'Much too much 'Fare fair'.'
'Un 'Tout va'.' 'One 'All fair'.'
'O! la! la! le temps! ' 'O! la! la! the time! '
'Helas! un n'est pas tout va! ' 'Alas! One is not all fair! '
'Adieu! Mon Dieu! ' 'Good bye! My God! '
'Il est, et est Temps.' 'He is, and is Time.'
poem by Douglas Scotney

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