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Lord Have Mercy On The Working Man
(Kostas)
All around I hear the sound of money
But I ain't got a nickel to my name
And everywhere I look I see temptation
She stands on every corner and calls my name.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the rich man busy dancing
While the poor man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Uncle Sam's got his hands in my pockets
And he helps himself each time he needs a dime
Them politicians treat me like a mushroom
'Cause they feed me bull and keep me in the blind.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the rich man busy dancing
While the poor man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Hey, St. Peter, look down for a minute
And see this little man about to drown
There's quicksand all around and man I'm in it
Please help me up Lord, 'cause I'm going down.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the rich man busy dancing
While the poor man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the fat man busy dancing
While the thin man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Please Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Please Lord, have mercy on the working man...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Money
More info about this song in the song database
My older brother tommy was a lineman rest his soul
His job was hanging hot wires on them high-line power poles
Every morning bright and early hed climb way up in the sky
And I never understood it so one day I asked him why
Chorus:
He said it pays big money and man Im into that
It pays big money if youre willing to take a chance
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money but he sure cant spend it now
Well, my late uncle charlie was this demolition hound
Hed travel across the country blowing buildings to the ground
He carried a case of dynamite seemed everywhere he went
He smoked them big long cigars and hed wink at you and grin
Repeat first chorus
Well now the moral of this story boys, is dont go getting yourself killed
Be kind to your rich relatives they just might put you in their will
Chorus:
That pays big money and were all into that
It pays big money and big moneys where its at
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money and were rolling in it now
Chorus:
It pays big money having foolish kin
It pays big money guess I owe it all to them
Let me show you something sonny, take a look at this bank account
It pays big money; lets all spend some of it now
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crime Pays
Music: hall
Lyrics: hall/oates/s. allen
I know you know all the pros and cons
They help you get to everything you want
Greasing policemen bending all the rules
Make them an offer that they cant refuse
One crime baby I cant forgive
The kind that hurts where I live
Im a nice guy I try to wait and see
If youll get caught or go free
You stole my heart and left me blue
It look like crime pays for you
You do it and you get away
It seem like crime pays
Crime pays
Beat the heat but you couldnt pay me off
Youre staying cool no matter what it costs
You get caught youll never do the time
I have to say youve got a way with one crime baby I cant forgive
The kind that hurts where I live
Its all too clear but I still dont see
Why all the guilty go free
You stole my heart and left me blue
It look like crime pays for you
You do it and you get away
It seems like crime pays
Crime pays
It seems like crime pays
Crime pays
Catch a thief and let her go
You wont get back the love she stole
Shake her down but she dont mind
cause she commit the perfect crime ok, ok
You know I know youre a pro and con artiste
Oh baby youre a false alarm
Why do I try to play it by the rules
I was the victim but Im not a fool
You stole my heart and left me blue
It looks like crime pays for you
You do it and you get away
It seems like crime pays
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollywood Holiday
I rode my motorcycle through a watermelon patch
Right on the california freeway
I took my holy Bible on my blessed boogie woogie drive
Cause I know I know I know
Where I go oh lord theyre gonna bless me jive
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
I parked my motorcycle on hollywood and vine
And sang till my red blood turned boiling blue
I took my sole survival and bore my cross on a string
Cause I know I know I know
What I dear I bear my charm to king
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not the employer who pays the wages. Employers only handle the money. It is the customer who pays the wages.
quote by Henry Ford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disease is the tax which the soul pays for the body, as the tenant pays house-rent for the use of the house.
quote by Ramakrishna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The body pays for a slip of the foot, and gold pays for a slip of the tongue.
The body pays for a slip of the foot and gold pays for a slip of the tongue.
The men who start out with the notion that the world owes them a living generally find that the world pays its debt in the penitentiary or the poor house.
quote by William Graham Sumner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poor Bloke's Prayer
My electricity bill I just cannot pay
Dear God when I need you where are you today
You don't seem to listen when to you I pray
And when I need your help from me you turn away.
The prayer of the poor bloke on poverty street
For his children he cannot afford to buy meat
His wife is unwell in bed feeling run down
A poor family on the poor side of the town.
He prays but God never pays heed to his prayer
Life can be so tough for one on welfare
On a below poverty line income and job opportunities rare
Of how real poverty feels he is all too aware.
If your wife and children are hungry and payment on your bills overdue
To positive thinking 'tis hard to stay true
You pray to your God for assistance but your prayer God does not heed
And your so called friends do not wish to know you in your times of need.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Go For Simplicity My Friend
i go for simplicity my friend
because i am poor
i do not go for sophistication
because i am poor
i do not complicate matters
because i am poor
i do not want you to misunderstand
because i am poor
i do not want you to think some more
because i am poor
i do not want to convince you
because i am poor
i do not want you to be with our side
because we are poor
i want all things in their simplified forms
because we cannot afford
any other form of convolutions
we cannot afford another revolution
it will be expensive
and we have no more years to give
to pay for the sponsors
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Big business never pays a nickel in taxes, according to Ralph Nader, who represents a big consumer organization that never pays a nickel in taxes.
quote by Dave Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Widow At Windsor
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead?
She 'as ships on the foam -- she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.
(Ow, poor beggars in red!)
There's 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses,
There's 'er mark on the medical stores --
An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind
That takes us to various wars.
(Poor beggars! -- barbarious wars!)
Then 'ere's to the Widow at Windsor,
An' 'ere's to the stores an' the guns,
The men an' the 'orses what makes up the forces
O' Missis Victorier's sons.
(Poor beggars! Victorier's sons!)
Walk wide o' the Widow at Windsor,
For 'alf o' Creation she owns:
We 'ave bought 'er the same with the sword an' the flame,
An' we've salted it down with our bones.
(Poor beggars! -- it's blue with our bones!)
Hands off o' the sons o' the Widow,
Hands off o' the goods in 'er shop,
For the Kings must come down an' the Emperors frown
When the Widow at Windsor says "Stop"!
(Poor beggars! -- we're sent to say "Stop"!)
Then 'ere's to the Lodge o' the Widow,
From the Pole to the Tropics it runs --
To the Lodge that we tile with the rank an' the file,
An' open in form with the guns.
(Poor beggars! -- it's always they guns!)
We 'ave 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor,
It's safest to let 'er alone:
For 'er sentries we stand by the sea an' the land
Wherever the bugles are blown.
(Poor beggars! -- an' don't we get blown!)
Take 'old o' the Wings o' the Mornin',
An' flop round the earth till you're dead;
But you won't get away from the tune that they play
To the bloomin' old rag over'ead.
(Poor beggars! -- it's 'ot over'ead!)
Then 'ere's to the sons o' the Widow,
Wherever, 'owever they roam.
'Ere's all they desire, an' if they require
A speedy return to their 'ome.
(Poor beggars! -- they'll never see 'ome!)
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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One difference between French appeasement and American appeasement is that France pays ransom in cash and gets its hostages back while the United States pays ransom in arms and gets additional hostages taken.
quote by William Safire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man In The Middle
Like an inventor
He is a symbol of a new age
He glides above the realms
Of you and me
He flows through your life
And makes you feel quite small
You may sit up in your chair
He doesnt care at all
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
His gowns come from paris
Occasionally from rome
He can go anywhere
Say back to his home
He flows through your life
And makes you feel quite small
Flashing to the white collars
Ha, he doesnt care at all
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
Please...
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
Hes the man in the middle
You can tell which way he lays
Hes the man in the middle
And he realises
And he realises
And he realises
Beauty pays
Please...
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interpretations
They are not poor.
They are triumphant in re-enacting 'lack'!
They are not ignorant.
They have chosen to stay away from knowledge.
And that seems to be a fact!
They are not lazy.
They choose to receive,
And 'give' that perception.
They are far from subservient,
But welcome it as a form of reception.
They have been freed to do as they please,
And leave interpretations to others
Who pay to be entertained by these sights...
Never keeping conversations dull,
For those who dwell with such druthers.
They know this!
And that is why everyone pays.
Whether we are amused or not...
By these admissions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wants And Needs
everytime your hands close
on something you want, someone
else's hands are empty of
what they need.
the difference between needs
and wants, is the difference
between freedom and slavery.
be careful of what you want!
every transaction has a cost.
who pays the cost... and in the
end who pays for that?
dont let what you want own you!
dont take your wants at the expense
of someone else's needs.
we came into this world naked,
we will leave the same way.
what we cling to is only a hindrance.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Almost all the noblest things that have been achieved in the world, have been achieved by poor men; poor scholars, poor professional men, poor artisans and artists, poor philosophers, poets, and men of genius.
quote by Albert Pike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Small Plot Of Land
Poor soul
Spit upon that
Poor soul
He never knew what hit him
And it hit him so
Poor dunce
He pushed back the pigmen
The barbs laughed
The fool is dead
Poor dunce
Hes less than within us
The brains talk
But the will to live is dead
And prayer cant
Travel so far these days
The talk of your life
Standing so near
To innocent eyes
Poor dunce
Swings thru the tunnels
And claws his way
Is small life so manic
Are these really the days
Poor dunce
Poor dunce
Poor soul
Poor soul
Poor soul
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Coquette, and After (Triolets)
I
For long the cruel wish I knew
That your free heart should ache for me
While mine should bear no ache for you;
For, long--the cruel wish!--I knew
How men can feel, and craved to view
My triumph--fated not to be
For long! . . . The cruel wish I knew
That your free heart should ache for me!
II
At last one pays the penalty -
The woman--women always do.
My farce, I found, was tragedy
At last!--One pays the penalty
With interest when one, fancy-free,
Learns love, learns shame . . . Of sinners two
At last ONE pays the penalty -
The woman--women always do!
poem by Thomas Hardy
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