Were every one to sweep before his own house, every street would be clean.
Related quotes
Were everyone to sweep in front of his own house, every street would be clean.
If each person would sweep before his own house, the city would soon be clean.
Our House
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweep the house with a broom in may and you'll sweep the luck of the house away.
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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If everyone swept the pavement in front of his house, the whole street would be clean.
Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clean Up The World
Clean Up The World
Where have we gone?
We’ve drifted away
Too many years
Nothin’ to say
Too many years
Intentional lies
Too many years
Collegiate-laundered hipplets
Drivin’ us to demise
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Along came McRonald
We got in its way
Too many years
Puppeteers played
Too many years
Stealing us blind
Too many years
Of totalitarians smothering us from the right
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Their Wall Street money’s been holdin’ us fast
Ideals shallow and vain
They sell us all just to make it last
Revolution of ‘89 today
We got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Self-centered cosmos
Material gain
Too many years
Deflecting their blame
Too many years
Stuffin’ their cart
Too many years
Deceit inside the head
Instead of love in their heart
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its grave
Copyright 1992 Will Fiala
poem by Will Fiala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Hard to Grow
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But they've been stopped...
Hitting bottom from the top.
Dropped and blocked.
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending...
Swoosh
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
Oh Lawd it's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to clossssuup.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
These doors will not be opened again!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Exceptions Made
And now...
The clean up!
Like none ever done.
Some will not be in it for the healing of it!
Many will sit in bitterness.
In divisions that they are accustomed.
They will not accept,
A participation without choice.
There is a clean up that is going to be done!
By everyone.
There will be no exceptions made!
All of those you see,
Looking from the windows,
Inside the house?
If they wish to eat and sleep in comfort...
They will work the fields,
And yield to discipline!
They, them, those and others...
Will sweep the dirt,
Everyone let collect.
'This' will become your reality!
'He will never be 'my' president! '
I doubt if that is a concern of his.
He prefers the title...
Chief Delegator!
What is his concern...?
Everyone will do their chores!
Complete assignments.
And 'earn' their right to complain.
Including you!
You see those obstacles?
Those hurdles to be jumped?
Those problems to be solved!
They are tremendous.
Embrace them!
Consider them yours!
The best way to get familiar...
I suggest?
Less protest.
This is the 'change' you can believe in!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Out Of My House
(hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!)
When you left, the door was
(slamming!)
You paused in the doorway
(slamming!)
As though a thought stole you away.
(slamming!)
I watched the world pull you away.
(lock it!)
So I run into the hall,
(lock it!)
Into the corridor.
(lock it!)
Theres a door in the house
(slamming).
I hear the lift descending.
(slamming!)
I hear it hit the landing,
(slamming!)
See the hackles on the cat
(standing).
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it up).
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it up).
I am the concierge chez-moi, honey.
Wont letcha in for love, nor money.
(let me in!)
My home, my joy.
Im barred and bolted and i
(wont let you in).
(get out of my house!)
No strangers feet
Will enter me.
(get out of my house!)
I wash the panes,
(get out of my house!)
I clean the stains away.
(get out of my house!)
This house is as old as I am.
(slamming.)
This house knows all I have done.
(slamming.)
They come with their weather hanging round them,
(slamming.)
But cant knock my door down!
(slamming.)
With my key i
(lock it).
With my key i
(lock it).
This house is full of m-m-my mess.
(slamming.)
This house is full of m-m-mistakes.
(slamming.)
This house is full of m-m-madness.
(slamming.)
This house is full of, full of, full of fight!
(slam it.)
With my keeper i
(clean up).
With my keeper i
(clean it all up).
With my keeper i
(clean up).
With my keeper i
(clean it all up).
I am the concierge chez-moi, honey.
Wont letcha in for love, nor money.
(its cold out here!)
My home, my joy.
Im barred and bolted and i
(get out of my house!)
(wont let you in).
(get out of my house!)
No strangers feet
(get out of my house!)
Will enter me.
(get out of my house!)
I wash the panes.
(get out of my house!)
I clean the stains.
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Wont enter me.
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Yeah! wont let you in!
(get out of my house!)
(get out of my house!)
Let me in!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the memories!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the devil dreams!
I will not let you in!
Dont you bring back the reveries.
I turn into a bird,
Carry further than the word is heard.
Woman let me in!
I turn into the wind.
I blow you a cold kiss,
Stronger than the songs hit.
I will not let you in.
I face towards the wind.
I change into the mule.
I change into the mule.
Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw-hee-haw-hee-haw-hee-haw...
Hee-haw! hee-haw! hee-haw!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House On Henderson
I can remeber all the times
When we would go blind
We would be dead on our feet
But it was fine we had good times
In the House on Henderson Street
We would play our music
And sing our songs
And drink in the heat
When the air wasnt on
In the cold, rain or shine, through hail and sleet
We always had goodtimes
In the house on henderson street
We would have kegs in the kitchen
And I was itching
For that sweet feeling in my mind
Throw a tire on the roof, scream in the streets
Filled up with alcohol, lets get something to eat.
Though my memories are hazy
And the nights were crazy
I wont forget the people we'd meet
But it was fine we had goodtimes
At the house on henderson street.
It was fine when we lost our minds
At the house on henderson street.
poem by Blaine McCanless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The house on henderson
I can remember all the times
When we would go blind
We would be dead on our feet
But it was fine we had good times
In the House on Henderson Street
We would play our music
And sing our songs
And drink in the heat
When the air wasn't on
In the cold, rain or shine, through hail and sleet
We always had good times
In the house on Henderson street
We would have kegs in the kitchen
And I was itching
For that sweet feeling in my mind
Throw a tire on the roof, scream in the streets
Filled up with alcohol, lets get something to eat.
Though my memories are hazy
And the nights were crazy
I wont forget the people we'd meet
But it was fine we had good times
At the house on Henderson street.
It was fine when we lost our minds
At the house on Henderson street.
poem by Blaine McCanless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here In My House
Here in my house.
My dreams are filled in the here and now.
Here in my house.
Things seem so estranged.
Life's closer to being changed.
Where I live there is a numbness.
There's an emptiness waiting to be undone.
Here in my house.
I need peace and solitude.
I want the happy interlude.
Where's the happiness?
Why the sappiness?
Here in my house.
I want a lover to feed me.
Come and take me to bed.
Save my room for my heart to be filled.
Here in my house.
Outside, life torments and plays with the wind.
You get caught up in the bum rush.
When love comes, it hurts too much.
You don't want to let go.
Here in my house.
Let's sweep away our cares.
Find a place to get our anger out.
Constructively, with every whimp of passion.
Love rules out your heart.
That what love does.
Here in my house.
You want it too much.
Here in my house.
poem by Raven Brent
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A House called Lonely (A Trilogy in three parts)
There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti
painted by a rebelious youth.
Such a lonely house and an oh such a tired one,
one that has lost all it's fun.
Stairs and rafters all gone to pot all that is left
is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden, it's just a house condemend
by the council without no pardon. Poor lonely house someones
forgotton dream, now describing lifes social scene.
This lonely house stands in the way because their building
a By Pass or a new motorway.
The house called lonely could be any where, in the town, the
country or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting
for you to say 'if only'
poem by Sylvia Spencer
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On The Street
On the street
On the street
O, O, On the street
On the street
O, O, On the street
[Everybody dance]
[Watch for the difference]
On the street
{Breaking on broadway]
O, O, On the street
[Shaking on sunset strip]
On the street
[Like nobody booming supporting that]
Da, da, da, da, da ...
On the street
On the street
Dancing
On the street
On the street
Dancing
Dancing
On the street
On the street
[Twisting on the turnpipe]
Dancing
On the street
On the street
On the street ...
Da, da, da, da, ...
Dance on the street ...
song performed by by Madonna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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George And The Chimney-Sweep
HIS petticoats now George cast off,
For he ws four years old;
His trousers were of nankeen stuff,
With buttons bright as gold.
'May I, ' said George, 'just go abroad,
My pretty clothes to show?
May I, mamma? but speak the word;'
The answer was, 'No, no.'
'Go, run below, George, in the court,
But go not in the street,
Lest boys with you should make some sport,
Or gipsies you should meet. '
Yet, though forbidden, he went out,
That other boys might spy,
And proudly there he walk'd about,
And thought–'How fine am I!'
But whilst he strutted through the street,
With looks both vain and pert,
A sweep-boy pass'd, whom not to meet,
He slipp'd–into the dirt.
The sooty lad, whose heart was kind,
To help him quickly ran,
And grasp'd his arm, with–'Never mind,
You're up, my little man.'
Sweep wiped his clothes with labour vain,
And begg'd him not to cry;
And when he'd blacken'd every stain,
Said, 'Little sir, good-bye. '
Poor George, almost as dark as sweep,
And smear'd in dress and face,
Bemoans with sobs, both loud and deep,
His well-deserved disgrace.
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Street
She lives on love street
Lingers long on love street
She has a house and garden
I would like to see what happens
She has robes and she has monkeys
Lazy diamond studded flunkies
She has wisdom and knows what to do
She has me and she has you
She has wisdom and knows what to do
She has me and she has you
I see you live on love street
Theres this store where the creatures meet
I wonder what they do in there
Summer sunday and a year
I guess I like it fine, so far
She lives on love street
Lingers long on love street
She has a house and garden
I would like to see what happens
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ive Got A Thing About Seeing My Grandson Grow Old
I buy the nicest things from a supermarket store
Vitamin land and marzipan and I know just what theyre all for
Ive organized my useless life in a way Ive never done before
Even visit the dentist now
Chorus:
But Ive got no time for silly chitter chatter
Im on my way
Cuz while my bloods still warm and my mind doesnt matter
Im hoping to stay
Because Ive got a thing about seeing my grandson grow old
I just cant wait to see that city on the moon
With air conditioned gardens thatll play your favorite tune
Ill see my feet upon that street if its the last thing that I do
Even sweep the roads to be there
Chorus
Ill see my feet upon that street if its the last thing that I do
Even sweep the roads to be there
Chorus
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You come before me this morning with clean hands and clean collars. I want you to have clean tongues, clean manners, clean morals and clean characters.
quote by John Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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