Beaver do better work than the Corps of Engineers.
Related quotes
the D Am song
dam
beaver dam
a beaver dam
has a beaver dam
beaver has a beaver dam
the beaver has a beaver dam
friend the beaver has a beaver dam
my friend the beaver has a beaver dam
because my friend the beaver has a beaver dam
dams because my friend the beaver has a beaver dam
beaver dams because my friend the beaver has a beaver dam
like beaver dams because my friend the beaver has a beaver dam
i like beaver dams because my friend the beaver has a beaver dam
-to be played on a guitar and sung, only playing the chords D and Am(a minor)
poem by Daniel Cook
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Somethins Wrong With The Beaver
(kinky friedman & panama red)
She climbed the stairs that mornin
Found him rather pale
His eyes they were the color
Of half-drunk ginger ale.
Faithful as a magnavox
Hung-up on a song
She cried down to the breakfast nook,
ward, theres something wrong.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
The beaver I believe-uh is gone.
Beaver was a dreamer,
Never got it right.
Died in livin color,
Lived in black an white.
Faithful as a magnavox
Hung-up on a song
She cries down to the breakfast nook,
ward, theres something wrong.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ward!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
The beaver I believe-uh is gone.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ward!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Lord!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ooh!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ha!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Beaver, huh!
Somethins wrong with the beaver.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Engineers
All that we are
Is all that we need to be
All that we know
Is you and machinery
Were engineers
We are your heartbeat
We are your night life
We are your 'low-line
We keep you alive for now
Were engineers
We are your voice
We are your blood flow
We are your eyes
Were all you need to know
Were engineers
All that we are
Is all that youd love to be
All that we know
Is hate and machinery
Were engineers
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our fish, our recreation, our irrigation and all our uses of the Missouri River are threatened if the drought continues and the Corps of Engineers decisions aren't changed.
quote by Mike Rounds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sappers
When the Waters were dried an' the Earth did appear,
("It's all one," says the Sapper),
The Lord He created the Engineer,
Her Majesty's Royal Engineer,
With the rank and pay of a Sapper!
When the Flood come along for an extra monsoon,
'Twas Noah constructed the first pontoon
To the plans of Her Majesty's, etc.
But after fatigue in the wet an' the sun,
Old Noah got drunk, which he wouldn't ha' done
If he'd trained with, etc.
When the Tower o' Babel had mixed up men's ~bat~,
Some clever civilian was managing that,
An' none of, etc.
When the Jews had a fight at the foot of a hill,
Young Joshua ordered the sun to stand still,
For he was a Captain of Engineers, etc.
When the Children of Israel made bricks without straw,
They were learnin' the regular work of our Corps,
The work of, etc.
For ever since then, if a war they would wage,
Behold us a-shinin' on history's page --
First page for, etc.
We lay down their sidings an' help 'em entrain,
An' we sweep up their mess through the bloomin' campaign,
In the style of, etc.
They send us in front with a fuse an' a mine
To blow up the gates that are rushed by the Line,
But bent by, etc.
They send us behind with a pick an' a spade,
To dig for the guns of a bullock-brigade
Which has asked for, etc.
We work under escort in trousers and shirt,
An' the heathen they plug us tail-up in the dirt,
Annoying, etc.
We blast out the rock an' we shovel the mud,
We make 'em good roads an' -- they roll down the ~khud~,
Reporting, etc.
We make 'em their bridges, their wells, an' their huts,
An' the telegraph-wire the enemy cuts,
An' it's blamed on, etc.
An' when we return, an' from war we would cease,
They grudge us adornin' the billets of peace,
Which are kept for, etc.
We build 'em nice barracks -- they swear they are bad,
That our Colonels are Methodist, married or mad,
Insultin', etc.
They haven't no manners nor gratitude too,
For the more that we help 'em, the less will they do,
But mock at, etc.
Now the Line's but a man with a gun in his hand,
An' Cavalry's only what horses can stand,
When helped by, etc.
Artillery moves by the leave o' the ground,
But ~we~ are the men that do something all round,
For ~we~ are, etc.
I have stated it plain, an' my argument's thus
("It's all one," says the Sapper),
There's only one Corps which is perfect -- that's us;
An' they call us Her Majesty's Engineers,
Her Majesty's Royal Engineers,
With the rank and pay of a Sapper!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Beavers In The Bathroom
There are beavers in the bathroom
swimming circles in the tub
where the beavers have decided
to convene their swimming club.
In their little beaver Speedos
and their beaver bathing caps,
they've been splashing rather happily
while practicing their laps.
They've been studying the butterfly,
the backstroke and the crawl,
and it's obvious they like it
and they're having quite a ball.
For we hear them all the time
but we don't see them anymore,
ever since they built a beaver dam
behind the bathroom door.
poem by Emily Wimetal
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Cock Up Your Beaver
When first my brave Johnie lad came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown;
But now he has gotten a hat and a feather,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu' sprush,
We'll over the border, and gie them a brush;
There's somebody there we'll teach better behaviour,
Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Stand by the Engines
On the moonlighted decks there are children at play,
While smoothly the steamer is holding her way;
And the old folks are chatting on deck-seats and chairs,
And the lads and the lassies go strolling in pairs.
Some gaze half-entranced on the beautiful sea,
And wonder perhaps if a vision it be:
And surely their journeys no sorrow nor care,
For wealth, love, and beauty are passengers there.
But down underneath, ’mid the coal dust that smears
The face and the hands, work the ship’s engineers.
Whate’er be the duty of others, ’tis theirs
To stand by their engines whatever occurs.
The sailor may gaze on the sea and the sky;
The sailor may tell when the danger is nigh;
But when Death his black head o’er the waters uprears,
Unseen he is met by the ship’s engineers.
They are thrown from their feet by the force of a shock;
They know that their vessel has struck on a rock.
Now stand by your engines when danger appears,
For all may depend on the ship’s engineers!
No thought of their danger! No mad rush on deck!
They stand at their posts in the hull of a wreck,
Firm hands on the valves; and the white steam appears;
And down with their ship go the brave engineers!
poem by Henry Lawson
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It will be hard work. It's always hard work, and hard work from everybody within the team - technical director, mechanics, drivers, engineers - everyone in the team.
quote by David Leslie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love As A Work Of Art
A work of art in which far more than just part
of the work, its feeling, can be all
it is composed of is far more than merest art:
it is the love in which all lovers fall.
The 12/30/10 WSJ listed the New Year resolutions of some major cultural figures. Olafur Eliasson, a Danish artist, best known in the U.S. for erecting man-made 'Waterfalls' around New York, said:
One of my goals for the year is to create a work of art that only consists of a feeling. I'm trying to work out how to get at that, how to define it as a work of art. There are obviously many feelings, but the one I'd like to create is the feeling of community. Highly abstract, I know.
I bought this solar-powered airplane, but right now it's all in pieces in a garage. Before I got it, it flew, but I took it apart so I could see if I could also turn it into a work of art. But aesthetics and aerodynamics didn't work out so well with me, and now it won't fly. So if the engineers can help put it back together, my goal is to fly it from Berlin to London this summer.
poem by Gershon Hepner
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I was put in the Air Corps. I was never educated to serve in the military, but soon my activities in the American Air Corps became very interesting to me.
quote by Leon Askin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In addition to serving overseas, the Peace Corps' Crisis Corps Volunteers have helped their fellow Americans.
quote by Solomon Ortiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As many will remember, a respected Army Corps economist filed a whistleblower complaint about the Corps' use of faulty data to justify lock and dam expansion.
I have to tell you that June Cleaver had a job in 'The New Leave It to Beaver.' She did. Sure, she was a council woman. She went to work. She wasn't a sit-at-home grandma. She went out, got a job.
quote by Barbara Billingsley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are in a time when the Peace Corps mission is more vital than ever, and the organization is at a 30-year high in the number of volunteers in the field. The Peace Corps is currently in 69 posts and serving 75 countries across the globe.
quote by Kenny Marchant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's true that the original idea was mine, but what you see today is the work of probably tens of thousands of the world's best engineers, all concentrating on improving the product, reducing the cost, things of that sort.
quote by Jack Kilby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wish the Peace Corps and its volunteers continued success and perseverance. We are grateful for their contributions to society and dedication to providing assistance where it is needed. May the Peace Corps continue its legacy of service, both at home and abroad.
quote by Kenny Marchant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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A Member Of The Corps
He was small for a Marine,
The dying boy there in the bed.
Three times he'd fought off cancer
but now, inside his head,
a serious infection
would claim his life instead.
Cody Green was only twelve.
All his life he'd loved the Corps.
They made him a navigator,
The insignia he wore.
An honorary soldier
A marine in time of war.
The crises was upon him.
He would not win this fight
A fellow member of the Corps
Stood honor guard all night
There would be a flag draped coffin
for this member of the Corps.
Cody Green, a Young Marine
A Marine in time of war..
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Payment
A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.
I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.
Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’
I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
O how I
work work work work work work work work
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work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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