With a mule you have a son, with a son-in-law you only have a mule.
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Nature Has Her Rule
A donkey and a horse
made a mule
a mule and a mule
would'nt make one
could'nt do so
nature has her rule
she would play her cards well
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Me And The Mule
My old mule,
He's gota grin on his face.
He's been a mule so long
He's forgotten about his race.
I'm like that old mule --
Black -- and don't give a damn!
You got to take me
Like I am.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Give The Mule What He Wants
Mule want it
Mule want it Sunday
He'll eat it
He'll eat it in one day
How long...do I wait
Be the mule that you gotta be
Underwater
Underwater one day
Gonna sink it and make 'em think it's too late
For your love...for your love
Be the mule that you gotta be
song performed by by Queens Of The Stone Age from Queens Of The Stone Age
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ye Old Mule
Ye old mule that think yourself so fair,
Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,
For it is true, without any fable,
No man setteth more by riding in your saddle.
Too much travail so do your train appair.
Ye old mule
With false savour though you deceive th'air,
Whoso taste you shall well perceive your lair
Savoureth somewhat of a Kappurs stable.
Ye old mule
Ye must now serve to market and to fair,
All for the burden, for panniers a pair.
For since gray hairs been powdered in your sable,
The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable
To purchase it by payment and by prayer,
Ye old mule.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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Ye Old Mule
Ye old mule that think yourself so fair,
Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,
For it is true, without any fable,
No man setteth more by riding in your saddle.
Too much travail so do your train appair.
Ye old mule
With false savour though you deceive th'air,
Whoso taste you shall well perceive your lair
Savoureth somewhat of a Kappurs stable.
Ye old mule
Ye must now serve to market and to fair,
All for the burden, for panniers a pair.
For since gray hairs been powdered in your sable,
The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable
To purchase it by payment and by prayer,
Ye old mule.
poem by David McKee Wright
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Scent Of Mule
Kitty Malone sat on a mule
Was riding in style
When suddenly, like the sound of a buzzard's breaking
Kity felt laser beams being fired at her head
She said, "I hate laser beams
And you never done see me askin'
For a UFO
In Tomahawk County"
Well she kicked the mule
And it walked the path
And the aliens fired from behind
Till she stopped the mule
And she kicked the rump
And the big old mule took a big old dump
Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go
Take your laser beams away
Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go
You better stop that laser game
Or you'll smell my mule
She felt the fire against her neck
And it saddened her to feel it burn
When suddenly, like the sound of a breeding Holstein
Kitty said, "Stop, we ain't lookin' for fightin'
In Tomahawk County."
A little guy from the UFO
Came on out and said his name was Joe
She said, "Come on over for some lemonade
Just follow me now with the whole brigade"
Chorus
They walked into her cabin shack
They had never seen a southern home
And they liked it, better than their UFO
They liked it, they really liked it
They said, "Here's a place of elegance
Here we shower ourselves in lightness"
Chorus
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mule Skinner Blues
Well good morning captain
Good morning to you sir
Hey hey yeah
Do you need another mule skinner
Down on your new mud run
Hey hey yeah
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Well Im a lady mule skinner
From down old tennessee way
Hey hey I come from tennessee
I can make any mule listen
Or I wont accept your pay
Hey hey I wont take your pay
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Well hey hey little waterboy
Wont you bring your water round
Hey hey
If you dont like your job
Well you can throw your bucket down
Throw it down boy, throw it down
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Well Ive been working down in georgia
At a greasy spoon caf?
Hey that lovely joint
Just to let a no good man
Call every cent of my pay
Hey hey and Im sick of it
And wanna be a mule skinner
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Yodel-a-ee-he-he
He-he-he-he-he-he
Mule skinner blues
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scent Of A Mule
Kitty malone sat on a mule
Was riding in style
When suddenly, like the sound of a buzzards breaking
Kity felt laser beams being fired at her head
She said, I hate laser beams
And you never done see me askin
For a ufo
In tomahawk county
Well she kicked the mule
And it walked the path
And the aliens fired from behind
Till she stopped the mule
And she kicked the rump
And the big old mule took a big old dump
Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go
Take your laser beams away
Scent of a mule, you better watch out where you go
You better stop that laser game
Or youll smell my mule
She felt the fire against her neck
And it saddened her to feel it burn
When suddenly, like the sound of a breeding holstein
Kitty said, stop, we aint lookin for fightin
In tomahawk county.
A little guy from the ufo
Came on out and said his name was joe
She said, come on over for some lemonade
Just follow me now with the whole brigade
Chorus
They walked into her cabin shack
They had never seen a southern home
And they liked it, better than their ufo
They liked it, they really liked it
They said, heres a place of elegance
Here we shower ourselves in lightness
Chorus
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Election set a trend
Despite dismal performances,
The mule has been reelected
By the mixed population
Of horses and mules in the stable.
The whole mules voted for the mule.
The opponent horse lost the race.
The horses divided themselves
And voted on ideology.
The victory of the mule is
Due more to the racial backing
Than to the performance reckoning,
An ugly trend set for the first time.
08.11.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Who does not venture gets neither horse nor mule, and who ventures too much lose horse and mule.
The Mule
No one sees the things you do
Because I stand in front of you
But you drive me all the time
Put the evil in my mind
Used to sing and say my prayers
Live my life without a care
Now I have become a fool
Because I listened to the mule
How can I change when my mind is a friend
Of a lucifer hid in the ground
Just another slave for the mule
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is true that Mr. Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, after which there was a commitment to give 40 acres and a mule. That's where the argument, to this day, of reparations starts. We never got the 40 acres. We went all the way to Herbert Hoover, and we never got the 40 acres. We didn't get the mule. So we decided we'd ride this donkey as far as it would take us.
quote by Al Sharpton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Picture On A Café Wall
A farmer and his mule are kicking
up dust on their way to Messines.
The mule has very long ears and
the farmer wears a big, black hat.
Side by side they walk the yonder
yet, they have time to get there.
The road is asphalted now, and
dust settles on the grassy verge.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Raconteur tells about the Election
A Zealot has painted his stubborn mule black & white stripes.
And then the mule became a Zebra.
This idiot wants to enrol his pet to the coming race.
Early in the morning he goes to the racecourse with his Zebra for practice.
There are no any restrictions it seems
Donkeys, mules, ponies, zebras and dogs all are allowed for the annual rat race?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When Dacey rode the Mule
’TWAS to a small, up-country town,
When we were boys at school,
There came a circus with a clown,
Likewise a bucking mule.
The clown announced a scheme they had
Spectators for to bring—
They’d give a crown to any lad
Who’d ride him round the ring.
And, gentle reader, do not scoff
Nor think a man a fool—
To buck a porous-plaster off
Was pastime to that mule.
The boys got on he bucked like sin;
He threw them in the dirt.
What time the clown would raise a grin
By asking, “Are you hurt?”
But Johnny Dacey came one night,
The crack of all the school;
Said he, “I’ll win the crown all right;
Bring in your bucking mule.”
The elephant went off his trunk,
The monkey played the fool,
And all the band got blazing drunk
When Dacey rode the mule.
But soon there rose a galling shout
Of laughter, for the clown
From somewhere in his pants drew out
A little paper crown.
He placed the crown on Dacey’s head
While Dacey looked a fool;
“Now, there’s your crown, my lad,” he said,
“For riding of the mule!”
The band struck up with “Killaloe”,
And “Rule Britannia, Rule”,
And “Young Man from the Country”, too,
When Dacey rode the mule.
Then Dacey, in a furious rage,
For vengeance on the show
Ascended to the monkeys’ cage
And let the monkeys go;
The blue-tailed ape and the chimpanzee
He turned abroad to roam;
Good faith! It was a sight to see
The people step for home.
For big baboons with canine snout
Are spiteful, as a rule—
The people didn’t sit it out,
When Dacey rode the mule.
And from the beasts he let escape,
The bushmen all declare,
Were born some creatures partly ape
And partly native-bear.
They’re rather few and far between,
The race is nearly spent;
But some of them may still be seen
In Sydney Parliament.
And when those legislators fight,
And drink, and act the fool,
Just blame it on that torrid night
When Dacey rode the mule.
A.B. (Banjo) Pasterson
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Stubborn
Stubborn, stubborn
He was stubborn as a mule.
He refused to budge
in the world so cruel.
'Cause what good would it do,
one step or two?
It would get him nowhere
'cause the word's so cruel.
Stubborn, stubborn.
He was stubborn as a mule.
His eyes were defiant
with fire and fuel.
He'd been born into pain
where no one had cared.
He was alone in the world
but never was he scared.
He was just stubborn.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Albert
Set your mind on things above than earthly things,
And do set your acts of love to all in peace than hate;
For we all neeed to learn more from time to time.
Set my son on my own mule and,
Give my son the laws of my rule;
For, i am very feeble in my old age.
Albert, i am too wise to be a fool in my old age;
And i do hope you will learn a lot from me like,
The rich man with his son on his mule.
Have you not heard that i am very rich? !
Then, try to learn the lines of my muse when it touches you;
For Yahweh has brought me laughter and joy.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Yesterday Is Gone
Yesterday is gone but,
Another day has come for us today;
Like each man and his mule.
Of a Royal line to muse with the muses,
Shall the shadow go ten steps forward of backwards?
Yesterday is gone and today is here with us;
But, what is love going to do on this matter?
From the wadi of Egypt to the Euphates River,
The golden lampstands are there for you;
From the least to the greatest,
By the Habour River i do stand and pray;
Like a pupil's work to the teacher.
Tomorrow is what we look for,
Like each man and his son;
But my mind is on you like,
Each woman and her daughter.
Into the land of Ararat,
Of words written down for us to read;
Like each man and his mule.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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16 Shells From A 30-06
Words and music by tom waits
Plugged 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
And the black crow flew through
A hole in the sky
And I spent all my buttons on an old pack mule
And I made me a ladder ftom a pawn shop marimba
And I leaned it up against a dandelion tree
Leaned it up against a dandelion tree
Leaned it up against a dandelion tree
Well I cooked them feathers on the iron spit
And I filled me a sachel full of old pig corn
And I beat me a billy from an old french horn
And kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Kicked that mule to the top of the tree
Blew me a hole bout the size of a kickdrum
And I cut me a switch from a long branch elbow
Im gonna whittle you into kindlin
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
Whittle you into kindlin
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
Well I slept in the hotter of a dry creek bed
And I tore out the buckets from a red corvette
Tore out the buckets from a red corvette
Lionel, dave and the butcher made three
You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinny bone tree
With the strings of a washburn
Stretched like a clothesline
You know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Me and that mule scrambled right through the hole
Im gonna whittle you into kindlin
Black crow 16 shells ftom a thirty-aught-six
Whittle you into kindlin
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
Now I hold him prisoner in a washburn jail
And I strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
Strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
Bang on the strings just to drive him crazy
And I strum it toud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Strum it loud just to rattle his cage
Im gonna whittle you into kindlin
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
Whittle you into kindlin
Black crow 16 shells from a thirty-aught-six
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Charge Of The Mule Brigade
Half a mile, half a mile,
Half a mile onward,
Right through the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!
Charge for the Rebs,' they neighed.
Straight for the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!'
Was there a mule dismayed?
Not when their long ears felt
All their ropes sundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to make Rebs fly.
On! to the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
Breaking their own confines
Breaking through Longstreet's lines
Into the Georgia troops
Stormed the two hundred.
Wild all their eyes did glare,
Whisked all their tails in air
Scattering the chivalry there,
While all the world wondered.
Not a mule back bestraddled,
Yet how they all skedaddled -
Fled every Georgian,
Unsabred, unsaddled,
Scattered and sundered!
How they were routed there
By the two hundred!
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered;
Followed by hoof and head
Full many a hero fled,
Fain in the last ditch dead,
Back from an ass's jaw
All that was left of them, -
Left by the two hundred.
When can their glory fade?
Oh, what a wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Mule Brigade,
Long-eared two hundred!
poem by Anonymous Americas
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