God made man merely to hear some praise of what he'd done on those Five Days.
quote by Christopher Morley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Days Of Farewall
Be careful How you walk
These days are evil Look how you talk
I hear there are people that are listening
This mystery Is up to you
So you be careful What you do
I know There are people who are wondering
These are the days of farewell
Halfway undecided That's our peace That's our peace
Be careful The friends you keep
He might not really Be your friend
He belongs To the wishing and the wandering
Be careful Too much at stake
You don't want ever To be wronged
Don't you ever Let the dirty business make you clean
These are the days of farewell
Halfway undecided That's our peace Amen Amen
Glory be to God I will bless the Lord at all times
His words shall continually be in my mouth with praise
For I am here today 'cause He said that I would live
There's no reason why HIV shouldn't have missed my daughter and my life
But it did Through the eyes of God, he saw fit for me to be here
I will praise the Lord at all times
As we live in the last days the Devil will always be up under my feet
And I will praise his name
Hallelujah
Don't you pretend To be something
That you are not Hear me my friend
I'll tell you what I know It will only sicken you
Let us be grateful For what you've got
Help me to know What I am not
Of my friend There are people who are wondering
These are the days of farewell
It's undecided It's undecided
Oh my friend Oh my friend Oh my friend
My friend My friend My friend
It's undecided
Too much Too much Too Much
Too much at stake for you and me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Are The Days
Ah ah
Heres a song
About living in the past
If it was so good then
How come it didnt last?
If it helps you
Ill put it in a phrase
Those were the times
But these are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
The times youre smiling back on
Had that great sitcom
It hardly compensated
For the terror of the bomb
Let me help
cause youre looking through a haze
Those were the times
These are the days
These are the days
Hey hey hey
These are the days
Can you hear me now?
These are the days
Look around look around look around
These are the days
These are the days
Hey hey live today
These are the days
Its time to put the past away
These are the days
The more you do the more you say
These are the days
The more I need to get away
Youre longing for a time
There never was
Now tell me the truth
Youre looking for the reason
Its because
Youre fighting for youth
But if I have to listen any more
To fantasy talk
Or any other bug you have
Im leaving
Now Im not saying
Everything is really great
Hey hey hey
After sixteen years
Of legalised class hate
Why waste time
Looking back for things to praise?
Those were the times huh
But these are the days
These are the days
Looking back in history
These are the days
Time to get contempory
These are the days
The past is not the place to be
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praise
Some praise their birth, the day they were born.
Some praise the eve and some the morn.
But I, my love praise only you,
all that you are and all that you do.
You, who are worthy to all mankind
can always seem somehow to find
how to care for me and do my bid.
And in the doing have never hid
the feeling of joy in the doing
or the contentment you display in the wooing.
So, deservedly you have all my praise
on every one of my God-given days.
Dedicated to my husband LEO
for 54 years.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Days Of Farewell
Be careful how you walk
These days are evil look how you talk
I hear there are people that are listening
This mystery is up to you
So you be careful what you do
I know there are people who are wondering
Chorus:
These are the days of farewell
Halfway undecided thats our peace thats our peace
Be careful the friends you keep
He might not really be your friend
He belongs to the wishing and the wandering
Be careful too much at stake
You dont want ever to be wronged
Dont you ever let the dirty business make you clean
Chorus:
These are the days of farewell
Halfway undecided thats our peace amen amen
Glory be to God I will bless the lord at all times
His words shall continually be in my mouth with praise
For I am here today cause he said that I would live
Theres no reason why hiv shouldnt have missed my daughter and my life
But it did through the eyes of god, he saw fit for me to be here
I will praise the lord at all times
As we live in the last days the devil will always be up under my feet
And I will praise his name
Hallelujah
Dont you pretend to be something
That you are not hear me my friend
Ill tell you what I know it will only sicken you
Let us be grateful for what youve got
Help me to know what I am not
Of my friend there are people who are wondering
Chorus:
These are the days of farewell
Its undecided its undecided
Oh my friend oh my friend oh my friend
My friend my friend my friend
Its undecided
Too much too much too much
Too much at stake for you and me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lord, I give you all my praise. (To the tune of down at the cross)
O Lord, My God, I give you all my praise
You have cared for me all my days
You have comfort and strengthen me
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes, God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O’ Lord, My God, to you I lift my hand
You will bless me right where I stand
You will guide me along the way
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O Lord My God to you I sing my praise
I surrender and beg for your grace
Please O’ Lord, forgive all my sins.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O Lord, my God I need your help today
Please send some aid quickly my way
Problems are so bad I can hardly pray
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes, God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O Lord, My God, thanks for all you have done
You have empowered me to overcome
Now, I can claim my battle as won
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes God has been good to me.
God has been so good me.
Yes God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
poem by Reginald Walker
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Her Praise
SHE is foremost of those that I would hear praised.
I have gone about the house, gone up and down
As a man does who has published a new book,
Or a young girl dressed out in her new gown,
And though I have turned the talk by hook or crook
Until her praise should be the uppermost theme,
A woman spoke of some new tale she had read,
A man confusedly in a half dream
As though some other name ran in his head.
She is foremost of those that I would hear praised.
I will talk no more of books or the long war
But walk by the dry thorn until I have found
Some beggar sheltering from the wind, and there
Manage the talk until her name come round.
If there be rags enough he will know her name
And be well pleased remembering it, for in the old days,
Though she had young men's praise and old men's blame,
Among the poor both old and young gave her praise.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Who I Am
You don't like my hair,
You don't like my dress.
You think I'm wrong;
That you know best.
Think you know better.
Think you got it all.
And right now,
My back's against the wall.
You say I should be here;
But I really should be there.
Come to think of it now,
I should be nowhere.
You say how I should live:
What, when, where, how.
But I'm telling you,
Back off right now.
I was made to praise God,
To live, love, and be free.
God made me:
He made me to be me.
Twasn't to be,
Chasing the stars.
Twasn't to be,
Who you are.
I was made to be me,
With none other alike.
So take a hint
And take a hike.
Made to praise,
Made to live,
Made to love,
Made to give.
Made like no other,
Made by the great I AM.
Just a unique worm,
That's who I am.
So take a deep breath and swallow...
This is who I am.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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In The Mornin
In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
When I praise Him I keep motivated.
And my heart is elevated!
Shaking trouble makers away.
When I praise Him I know He's my Savior,
Saving me from bad behavior.
And those who bait that hate,
Wont spoil my flavor.
In the mornin'
When I'm yawning at dawn,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
I've got faith so strong.
'Cause I'm blessed to know that God is with me,
All day long!
In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I,
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him!
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
And dedicated
'To my 'Roots'.
I keep re-booted! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Psalm 150
Praise God in his heavenly dwelling;
praise him in his mighty heaven!
Praise him for his mighty works;
praise his unequaled greatness!
Praise him with a blast of the trumpet;
praise him with the lyre and harp!
Praise him with the tambourine and dancing;
praise him with stringed instruments and flutes!
Praise him with a clash of cymbals;
praise him with loud clanging cymbals.
Let everything that lives sing praises to the Lord!
Praise the Lord!!
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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P r a i s e
Whatever that you think you lack – give that! ’ –
this saying, heard, lodged in my mind a space;
like seed that hides in earth – yet not inert:
its hidden clock an instrument of grace;
the mind, the soil, that meanwhile, does not know:
it neither knows what lies in its embrace,
nor its own precious nutrients which grow
this seed; nor sees the Sower, nor His grace –
until one day, when in some Spring of light,
I realised: I, meanly, denied – praise:
the praise of human beings in my sight;
and thus, the praise of that One source of praise..
so sought occasion, each and All to praise;
now Praise, with golden hand, seeds all my days.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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0186 Praise
'Whatever that you think you lack - give that! ' -
this saying, heard, lodged in my mind a space;
like seed that seems inert - yet, not inert;
its hidden clock an instrument of grace;
the mind, that soil which meanwhile does not know:
it neither knows what lies in its embrace,
nor its own precious nutrients which grow
that seed; nor knows the Sower; nor His grace -
until the day that in some Spring of light,
I realised: I, meanly, denied - praise:
the praise of human beings in my sight;
and thus, the praise of that one source of praise.
so sought occasion, each and All to praise;
now Praise, with golden hand, seeds all my days.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Psalm 150
Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep
Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love
Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground
Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song
Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free
Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds
Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace
Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart
Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead
Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone
Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing
Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns
poem by Frank McEleny
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You've Made Me Glad/Who Is Like The Lord
You put a song in my heart rythm in my step
Praise as my garment for the spirit of heaviness
Beauty for ashes joy for my pain
Love overwhelming causes me to say
(Chorus)
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
Lord I will rejoice because You have
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
Lord I will rejoice because You have made me glad
So I will lift my hands and lift my voice
The way I feel I have no choice
You made me glad
I'm gonna dannce and sing and shout for joy
And praise Your name I will rejoice
You made me glad
Lord we declare
Who can compare
Who would even dare
Cause there is no one like You
song performed by by Israel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praise God on High
Praise God on High
He sits there and knows why
The reason for each housefly
From fungi to the pie
Even those far and nearby
Praise God on High
The Owner of the Sky
The sweetness of July
The secrets of my Sigh
He knows them all
He sees my fall
With love install
I hear no yawl.
He is what nature's sprawl
The snowfall, the menthol, the cat call.
My faults he does not recall
Everything in Him is so beautiful.
Praise! Praise God on High
For He has the Perfect Eye.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To the hero of toil
Another days labour for the man at the front
another days work of sweat and of grunt
of straining of muscle of tendon and joint
no praise for the hero of toil
Head down and end up as he reshapes the earth
for the rich and the mighty he'll give all he's worth
with the spade and the hammer he was handed at birth
no praise for the hero of toil
In the darkest of climates he'll give it his last
he wont mumble or groan, he's just one of his class
with the spit on his hands he'll get on with the task
no praise for the hero of toil
Where would we be if it weren't for him
our lives would be dull and our futures be dim
yet he still carries on while the rich sip their gin
no praise for the hero of toil.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven
Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet Thy tribute bring!
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing?
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise the everlasting King!
Praise Him for His grace and favour,
To our fathers in distress!
Praise Him still the same for ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless!
Praise Him! praise Him!
Glorious in His faithfulness!
Father-like, He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows.
In His hands He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes,
Praise Him! praise Him!
Widely as His mercy flows!
Frail as summer's flower we flourish:
Blows the wind, and it is gone.
But while mortals rise and perish,
God endures unchanging on.
Praise Him, Praise Him,
Praise the high eternal One!
Angels, help us to adore Him;
Ye behold Him face to face:
Sun and moon, bow down before Him;
Dwellers all in time and space,
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise with us the God of grace!
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Sing a New Song
O sing a new song, to our God above,
Avoid profane ones, 'tis for holy choir:
Let Israel sing song of holy love
To him that made them, with their hearts on fire:
Let Zion's sons life up their voice, and sing
Carols and anthems to their heavenly king.
Let not your voice alone his praise forth tell,
But move withal, and praise him in the dance;
Cymbals and harps, let them be tuned well,
'Tis he that doth the poor's estate advance:
Do this not only on the solemn days,
But on your secret beds you spirits raise.
O let the saints bear in their mouth his praise,
And a two-edged sword drawn in their hand,
Therewith for to revenge the former days,
Upon all nations, that their zeal withstand;
To bind their kings in chains of iron strong,
And manacle their nobles for their wrong.
Expect the time, for 'tis decreed in heaven,
Such honor shall unto his saints be given.
poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye lands your voices raise;
Heaven and earth with loud accord,
Praise the Lord, for ever praise.
For his truth and mercy stand,
Past, and present, and to be,
Like the years of his right hand,
Like his own eternity.
Praise Him, ye who know his love;
Praise Him from the depth beneath;
Praise Him in the heights above;
Praise your Maker, all that breathe.
poem by James Montgomery
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All About You
hear our praises
hear your people sing
hear our hearts cry
your love is everything
and all will hear this shout
as the nations turn to you
and this will be your anthem
'cause we're all about you
and the world you promise
and all we have will give you praise
'cause we're all about you
and the world can't stop us
living your way, always
let our hearts break as we praise your name
let the earth shake
this is the sound of faith
and the walls will fall down
and religion will break
and the nations will hear this shout
can you hear the sound of faith?
all the walls are falling down
as all the nations praaise
and all the world will hear this shout
can you hear the sound of faith?
song performed by by Hillsong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm CL.
Praise ye the Lord, your Songs address
To praise His Holynes:
O praise Him in His pow'rs extent,
Who rules the firmament.
Praise Him for all His acts of might,
Our wonder which invite:
In praises due His greatness tell,
Which all things doth excell.
Praise Him with Trumpets lofty sound,
With Cornets shake the ground:
His praise the Psaltery inspire,
With the melodious Lyre.
Praise him with Timbrells, and advance
His honour in the Dance.
Praise Him with Organs, Violls, Flutes,
And the well-stringed Lutes.
With Cymbals loud Him magnify,
Praise Him on Cymbals high:
Let every creature, that hath breath,
His Maker praise till death.
poem by Henry King
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