How can I be a folk? I'm from the suburbs you know.
quote by John Fahey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was described as Sex and the Suburbs. It's so not that. Because on Sex and the City, those women told each other everything; on our show, it's much more like the real suburbs - nobody tells anybody anything. Everything's a secret.
quote by James Denton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hide Away Folk Family
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away
Tippy-toe to the front door, mother,
cause theres a guy with a long, long fuse
And the one thing you cant hide is all the fear you feel inside
As the fuse is spelling out these words
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away
Tippy-toe to the flat-bed, father,
Because theyre pouring out our gasoline
And sadly the cross-eyed bears been put to sleep behind the stairs
And his shoes are laced with irony
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away
Hello. this is leslie down with the daily home astrology report.
Taurus: contemplate domestic turmoil.
Aquarius: abandon hope for future plans.
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away (hide away)
Hide away (folk family) folk family (or else someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away
Hide away
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Folk Don't Talk
On the day she died they all came,
though I was shocked they recalled her name
but they drank our booze and ate our cake
yeah they ate our cake alright.
Maybe they meant well
maybe not
but you can't keep dead folk company
for dead folk, they don't talk.
Nobody came and nobody called
when she was ill and dying.
Nobody seemed to care at all
and now they're all here crying.
Maybe they meant well
maybe not
but you can't keep dead folk company
for dead folk, they don't talk.
So I sat there dazed and out of control
listening to them talking,
but when she were alive, the house was still,
just me and mother sighing.
Maybe they meant well
maybe not
but you can't keep dead folk company
for dead folk, they don't talk.
And afterwards, when they all went
I carried out her last requests.
I moved her gas fire, paid the rent
and left a note to the dairyman.
Nobody came and nobody called
when she was ill and dying.
Nobody seemed to care at all
and if they say they did, they're lying.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fairie's Fair
Who’s that dancing on the moonlight air,
Heel tapping, Toe-heel rapping?
Oberon opening the fairies’ fair
To jig away sorrow on the grave of Care.
Come along, old folk, cold fork, bold folk,
Drop your shears at the midnight stroke.
Elves are crying: "Who’ll come buying
Jugs of Joy from a fairy’s cloak?"
Mab is sitting on a silver shoe,
Bright eyes laughing, Light lips quaffing
Airy bubbles from a cup of dew,
Her bracelets tinkle with delights for you.
Come along tall folk, small folk, all folk,
Race the stream where the fat frogs croak,
Buy a bobbin! There goes Robin
Tying Time to a daisy’s yoke!
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London Types:
Time, the old humourist, has a trick to-day
Of moving landmarks and of levelling down,
Till into Town the Suburbs edge their way,
And in the Suburbs you may scent the Town.
With Mount Street thus approaching Muswell Hill,
And Clapham Common marching with the Mile,
You get a Hammersmith that fills the bill,
A Hampstead with a serious sense of style.
So this fair creature, pictured in The Row,
As one of that 'gay adulterous world,' whose round
Is by the Serpentine, as well would show,
And might, I deem, as readily be found
On Streatham's Hill, or Wimbledon's, or where
Brixtonian kitchens lard the late-dining air.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Of Music
Music is like a city
The genres are the suburbs
The bands, the streets
The albums, the buildings
And the songs, the apartments
The streets get inspiration from other streets
They duplicate then alter them slightly.
The city is very busy and there are always
People driving through looking and listening
The city is growing every day.
The suburbs larger and larger
And some join together.
The streets longer and longer
And some old and tattered.
The building will always stay the same
But they will always be new.
The city will always keep growing
As the music goes on.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Folk rock was my real roots. I did a few gigs as a folk artist, in the style of Fairport Convention.
quote by Alan Parsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Kenny first came to me, I think he was thinking of making a nice little folk record, but in my opinion, folk music had come to an end and I felt he needed to go to the next step, the next generation.
quote by Jim Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I really understand what that process is all about and how important it is, especially with young folk and creative folk that love looking for some platform that makes it easier for them to express themselves.
quote by Mick Fleetwood
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Town By The Sea
Here only the air that you breathe it is free
All else you pay for in the Town by the sea
The sea air is cleaner you do hear some say
Yet few happy faces for to brighten one's day.
For people from the suburbs a weekend get away
From the noise and pollution they live with every day
Two days by the sea does cost them two days pay
Sea-side towns not cheap to stay in such is life some might say.
The old town by the sea is a bright and breezy place
Though few people here with a smile on their face
Mid sunday afternoon their drive back to the suburbs is about to begin
Their two day break went so fast in life 'tis hard to win.
Even in the Winter a quiet time of year
Accomodation in the town by the sea seems quite dear
So few smiling faces around me I do see
And only the air that you breathe does seem free.
poem by Francis Duggan
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We had a certain kind of really big prestige among, I suppose not just intellectual folk, but a sort of nice middle class intelligent folk of a very urban nature.
quote by Adolph Green
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down the airy mountain
Down the airy mountain
Through the rushing glen
We daren't go a- hunting
For fear of little men-
Good folk bright folk
trooping all together
With redcap, green coat and
white owl feather.
poem by Willow Cochrane
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Suburbs Of Moscow
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Out on my own
In the suburbs of moscow
Out in the rain
Walking down this long avenue
Out to the crowds in the square
Feelings are high everywhere
But the feeling is gone
And I cant break away
(living in moscow)
Out in the cold
(so cold)
When theres nowhere to stay
Look at the girl
Gazing through the window
Clutching her books
Memorising every line
Keep your belief at the start
This was the faith in my heart
But the feeling is gone
And I cant break away
(living in moscow)
Out in the cold
(so cold)
When theres nowhere to stay
Where can we go
In the suburbs of moscow
Watching the rain
Beating down empty streets
Yes, the feeling is gone
And I cant break away
(living in moscow)
Out in the cold
(so cold)
When theres nowhere to stay
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Mine, Not Yours
Paradise, about to get lost,
Artisans losing sheen,
Intrusion ad invasion,
Did they ask the folk?
Felons barging into the territory,
Annihilating whatever coming their way,
Trampling over the agreed upon,
Deteriorating the beautiful vistas.
Shitty personas plundering the dell,
Screeching, “It’s mine, not yours.”
But did they enquire about the folk?
Gimcrack acts and fractious intruders,
With daggers, proceeding,
Blood flowing in rills,
Bloodshed in ginormous quantities,
Flanked by his entourage, came he
Attired in white, howled he,
“I am the czar here.”
Fractious figure, yelled he,
“I am the monarch here.”
Paradise heaving with crimson hues,
Snowcaped rocks blackened.
But did the folk permit you?
Blasts and sounds and echoes,
Lament and mourn and groan.
Paradise lost, we doomed.
Atrocities and deterioration and despise.
But did the folk support you?
Demagogue playing a gimmick,
Folk lured and invitation to hooliganism,
Holocaust all around,
Where would the kids and adults take refuge?
But did the folk walk along with you?
CONTRIBUTED BY: -
NEHA SHARMA
ENGLISH (HONS.) 2nd YEAR
JDMC, DU
poem by Neha Sharma
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A 4th World
Here we are under these particular stars
Here we stand Victorian
Where the white folk can grow to no so
Very little about the black folk
The same folk who rightfully own
This piece of beauty that we call our home
Well negativity is often heard from society
With conviction they preach
Not even knowing of whom they speak
I guess its each to there own
Those that want to will know
I guess its each to there own
Because from the top the views are old and grey
Well I feel so ashamed
Of this system and these ways
The tiny hearts that lead our nation
And tiny minds that let them in
And I see your confusion
I see your pain
I see your pain and your confusion
And theres still some with my skin
Who still try and hide the reason
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes I remember a house
Sometimes I remember a house
in the eastern suburbs of Pretoria
and there at a time I was with you
and were you aware of my feelings then?
I remember the mystery of your humanity and that house
in the eastern suburbs of Pretoria
and the electric blanket and I was there more than at home
and I was under your spell, from the way that you looked at me.
I remember the mystery of your humanity and that house
and moment after moment
you were with me
and I was under your spell, from the way that you looked at me
and that place I cannot get out of my thoughts
Sometimes I remember a house
where you were with me
and I at a time with you.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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