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Unlucky In Love
Writers: leo sayer & frank farrell
The rain is falling through the window
Down the walls on the floor
Im sitting in a station and Im wondering
Ooh can it rain any more
When youre so far down
Theres no getting up again
Oh Im so alone
And Im to blame
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in love
Guess it always ends up that way
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in my life
Guess itll always be the same
Im the only one to blame
Why oh why am I unlucky in love
The train is standing on the platform
But my feet are stuck to the floor
Maybe in another town Ill get lucky
Yeah if I could reach that carriage door
But when youre so far down
Aint no getting up again
Oh Im so alone
And Im to blame
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in love
Everything I touch turns to dust
Unlucky in love
Unlucky in love
Never needed anything quite as much
A womans voice and a womans touch
Why oh why am I unlucky in love
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chant Of The Blues
(nathaniel cole)
I don't know why i'm so doggone unlucky today.
Just got the news that my best gal has left me to stay.
Things were pretty rosy,
We got along so fine.
Until another guy moved in
And handed her a line.
I don't know why i'm so doggone unlucky today.
So i decided to try and get her off my mind.
Started to walkin', to see what enjoyment i'd find.
Was invited to a party,
Then there was a fight.
A fella got a whippin'...
You guessed it right.
I don't know why i'm so doggone unlucky today.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never have anything to do with an unlucky place, or an unlucky man. I have seen many clever men, very clever men, who had not shoes to their feet. I never act with them. Their advice sounds very well, but they cannot get on themselves; and if they cannot do good to themselves, how can they do good for me?
quote by Rothschild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Gone Wrong (A Nightmare Song and an Answer to the Evangelists)
Christ spoke to me from the gallows
And burned a hole in my heart.
He said I'd never be the same again,
I'd always feel pain.
He set me apart from my fellows.
He's nailed me to a system of belief
That brings me endless grief.
Christ speaks to me from the gallows.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gallows Pole
Hangman, hangman, hold it a little while,
Think I see my friends coming,
Riding a many mile.
Friends, did you get a little silver?
Did you get a little gold?
What did you bring me, my dear friends,
To keep me from the gallows pole?
What did you bring me to keep me from the gallows pole?
I couldnt get no silver, I couldnt get no gold,
You know that were too damn poor
To keep you from the gallows pole.
Hangman, hangman, hold it a little while,
I think I see my brother coming,
Riding a many mile.
Brother, did you get me some silver?
Did you get a little gold?
What did you bring me, my brother,
To keep me from the gallows pole?
Brother, I brought you some silver,
I brought a little gold,
I brought a little of evry thing
To keep you from the gallows pole.
Yes, I brought you to keep you from the gallows pole.
Hangman, hangman, turn your head awhile,
I think I see my sister coming,
Riding a many mile, mile, mile, mile, mile.
Sister, I implore you, take him by the hand,
Take him to some shady bower,
Save me from the wrath of this man,
Please take him,
Save me from the wrath of this man, man.
Hangman, hangman, upon your face a smile,
Pray tell me that Im free to ride,
Ride for many mile, mile, mile.
Oh, yes, you got a fine sister,
She warmed my blood from cold,
Brought my face to boiling hot
To keep you from the gallows pole,
Your brother brought me silver,
Your sister warmed my soul,
But now I laugh and pull so hard
And see you swinging on the gallows pole
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unlucky Stars
(micky dolenz)
Micky dolenz music (bmi)
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
From justus
It breaks my heart to say goodbye
I know that I deserve to cry
I know that time will see me through
But in this mean time
All I dream about is you
Unlucky stars are in my sky
My fortune teller, she saw me and cried
She said that I might have to wait
My lucky ship is lost
And comin in too late
Unlucky stars
Unlucky stars
Venus and mars
Are up in arms
If now its time to let to
Give me some time to let you know
That I adored you till the end
I couldnt stand another day without a friend
I couldnt stand another day without a friend
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both the cross and the gallows are made of wood.
The gallows is not made for the rich, but for the head of the peasant.
Divorce
Why do we have to slaughter
our love in the gallows
of rudeness and indifference?
Why do we have
to chop off our love
with the sharp knives
of hate, anger and fear?
Why do we have to come
to these gallows
and slaughter our love?
Why do we have to proclaim
the death of our love?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friday The 13th
To many the number thirteen
is a number to avoid and beware of,
add Friday in front of the number,
and you have a very scary day.
To me the number thirteen,
has always been always been a lucky one,
and Friday the thirteenth,
even luckier still
Then again, if you are superstitious
any number can be unlucky.
If you want to think it so,
it just depends on how positive you are.
Now if you think negative,
you will be that way to,
so in your thinking,
just be like me.
Positive is lucky, negative is unlucky,
so train you mind,
to think positive
all the time.
13 July 2007
poem by David Harris
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Hangman's Gallows
Hangman's Gallows
By: Adam M. Snow
The hangman cometh,
to the gallows oaken,
the reapers awaken,
to mend the broken.
The mourners mourn,
a soul that was scorn.
Your judgment comes,
now's the end,
like a dying friend,
laying you at rest,
in a hollowed coffin,
as they dance and jest.
The mark of noose,
around your neck,
if weakness may excuse.
They dance and dance,
they jest and jest,
your blood drips to the deck.
To the blood of dawn,
to the black of dusk,
all tears are gone,
and all who brusque.
All's unspoken,
you're forsaken.
The children screaming,
mothers stopped dreaming,
your body's hanging,
from a waning noose.
All you've done,
your life's abuse.
By dawn the reaper weary,
as time grew dark and eerie.
The hangman cometh,
to the gallows oaken,
with a gauntlet of raw,
for you, who's broken.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Upon The Thief
The thief, when he doth steal, thinks he doth gain;
Yet then the greatest loss he doth sustain.
Come, thief, tell me thy gains, but do not falter.
When summ'd, what comes it to more than the halter?
Perhaps, thou'lt say, The halter I defy;
So thou may'st say, yet by the halter die.
Thou'lt say, Then there's an end; no, pr'ythee, hold,
He was no friend of thine that thee so told.
Hear thou the Word of God, that will thee tell,
Without repentance thieves must go to hell.
But should it be as thy false prophet says,
Yet nought but loss doth come by thievish ways.
All honest men will flee thy company,
Thou liv'st a rogue, and so a rogue will die.
Innocent boldness thou hast none at all,
Thy inward thoughts do thee a villain call.
Sometimes when thou liest warmly on thy bed,
Thou art like one unto the gallows led.
Fear, as a constable, breaks in upon thee,
Thou art as if the town was up to stone thee.
If hogs do grunt, or silly rats do rustle,
Thou art in consternation, think'st a bustle
By men about the door, is made to take thee,
And all because good conscience doth forsake thee.
Thy case is most deplorably so bad,
Thou shunn'st to think on't, lest thou should'st be mad.
Thou art beset with mischiefs every way,
The gallows groaneth for thee every day.
Wherefore, I pr'ythee, thief, thy theft forbear,
Consult thy safety, pr'ythee, have a care.
If once thy head be got within the noose,
'Twill be too late a longer life to choose.
As to the penitent thou readest of,
What's that to them who at repentance scoff.
Nor is that grace at thy command or power,
That thou should'st put it off till the last hour.
I pr'ythee, thief, think on't, and turn betime;
Few go to life who do the gallows climb.
poem by John Bunyan
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Hanging-In-There!
From the gallows of mental death...
That is where they claim to hang!
People who speak,
Words of defeat.
To let it known...
Their lives are not their own!
Or dreams wished to fulfill,
They desire with motivation to keep.
Doing things just to get by...
Is a sad commentary,
For those 'trying' to survive.
Instead of finding a purpose for themselves...
They await in hesitation,
For an approval made to live their lives!
And doing nothing else but 'hanging-in-there'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Villonaud: Ballad Of The Gibbet
SCENE: 'En ce bourdel ou tenons nostre estat.'
It being remembered that there were six of us with Master Villon, when
that expecting presently lo be hanged he writ a ballad whereof ye know:
‘Freres humains qui apres nous vivez.'
Drink ye a skoal for the gallows tree!
Francois and Margot and thee and me,
Drink we the comrades merrily
That said us, 'Till then' for the gallows tree!
Fat Pierre with the hook gauche-main,
Thomas Larron 'Ear-the-less',
Tybalde and that armouress
Who gave this poignard its premier stain
Pinning the Guise that had been fain
To make him a mate of the 'Haulte Noblesse'
And bade her be out with ill address
As a fool that mocketh his drue's disdeign.
Drink we a skoal for the gallows tree!
Francois and Margot and thee and me,
Drink we to Marienne Ydole,
That hell brenn not her o'er cruelly.
Drink we the lusty robbers twain,
Black is the pitch o' their wedding dress,
Lips shrunk back for the wind's caress
As lips shrink back when we feel the strain
Of love that loveth in hell's disdeign,
And sense the teeth through the lips that press
'Gainst our lips for the soul's distress
That striveth to ours across the pain.
Drink we skoal to the gallows tree!
Francois and Margot and thee and me,
For Jehan and Raoul de Vallerie
Whose frames have the night and its winds in fee.
Maturin, Guillaume, Jacques d'Allmain,
Culdou lacking a coat to bless
One lean moiety of his nakedness
That plundered St. Hubert back o' the fane:
Aie! the lean bare tree is widowed again
For Michault le Borgne that would confess
In 'faith and troth' to a traitoress,
'Which of his brothers had he slain?'
But drink we skoal to the gallows tree!
Francois and Margot and thee and me:
These that we loved shall God love less
And smite always at their faibleness?
Skoal!! to the gallows! and then pray we:
God damn his hell out speedily
And bring their souls to his 'Haulte Citee'.
poem by Ezra Pound
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But there's no point in looking back and saying I was unlucky.
quote by Jamie Redknapp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm one of those unlucky people who had a happy childhood.
quote by Jonathan Coe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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