Football is a game of skill, we kicked them a bit and they kicked us a bit.
quote by Graham Roberts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Ive Been Kicked Around
Well Ive been kicked around
What do you see
Am I alright?
Im alright
I once had a heart
I was ripped from it
Chewed up then spat out
Like a cherry pit
And if I seem a little hard
Its just that Ive been kicked around
I dont know how I got this far
The way that Ive been kicked around
Uh huh
Well Ive been kicked around
What do you see
Am I alright?
Am I alright?
Well Ive been kicked around
What do you see
Am I alright?
Am I alright?
I once had a soul
It was torn from me
I wont cry a tear
I will carry me
And if I seem a little hard
Its just that Ive been kicked around
I dont know how I got this far
The way that Ive been kicked around
Dont worry, Im all right
So if I seem a little hard
Its just that Ive been kicked around
I dont know how I got this far
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Made Okay To Do It Your Way
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You complained,
That you couldn't take the weight.
And a waiting too late makes it okay.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A String Of Soap & An Ol' Tin Can!
I had a cat,
the cat had me,
a string of soap
and a mug for tea,
a 'walky talky' doll,
whoopee
and a piano
in our parlor.
I'd elastic bands
for a game we played
but I never
kicked an old tin can
for I never saw
tin cans.
I saw cigarette butts
and empty bottles.
I saw cold chips
and bits of trash,
I saw a dead rat
in our road
but I never saw
an old tin can.
No I never saw
an old tin can.
But now I know
he kicked tin cans
I'll spot a can
before I die
and when I do
and if I can
I'll kick a can
along our road.
Yeah, I'll kick can
for that dear man
and I'll be proud
I kicked a can,
yeah man....
an old tin can.
poem by Ruth Walters
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The AFL Football
He was exactly like his famous Dad
When he was all stitched up
Of this fact he was very glad
His father had a special role in the 2005 premiership cup
Don't laugh when I tell you
This story is very true
He was a football; Aussie made
With anyone else, he wouldn't ever trade
Of his father he was very proud
Cheer cheer roared the crowd
It was a moment that would certainly go
Down in sporting history; this for sure he did know
Leo Barry; what a mark indeed
All the Sydney Swans fans agreed
The sea of red and white
What a glorious sight
He only wished that he could have been there
With him, all of his special memories; his Dad always did share
In a game a football is an important part
Of it all; this is the heart
Without a football, there'd be no game
Which of course would be a crying shame
Thousands of people travel to the A N Z Stadium or S C Ground
To see a football thrown or kicked around
Everyone gets excited to see
The game being played passionately
The moment that is above the rest
Is when Adam Goodes passes every test
To kick the winning goal
He plays with his heart and soul
The football's father at last did retire
To always be like him; was his son's desire
AFL is at the top of every sports fan's game list
Never ever to be missed
poem by Rose Angel H
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Another Football Season
Another Football Season has just commenced having said so just the same
A lot of hype and excitement about a field game
For many from their life problems a relief of sorts
Suppose that's why the establishments created sports.
Some things do seem to change little from year to year
Of football fans discussing football one often does hear
They talk of their Club as if the Club they did own
'Tis from people like them that Football Clubs are grown.
They talk of team ratings and player stats and of last weekend's best on ground
And of who their team are due to play in the next round
And the forward with a goal for the taking who kicked a behind
Next week with the seconds a place he may not find.
Another Football Season commencing the barracker's wife
She does feel neglected but then such is life
He knows about Football and the words of the Club song
And his heart to the Club it does surely belong.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Football
I'm a football baby,
Rollin' round the field.
I've been passed and fumbled,
Till I don't know what I feel.
Everybody's the same,
They're all footballs too.
Setting up the big play
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby
In a football game
I'm a football baby
Run--kick
Life's a football game,
As every chump and champ knows.
We don't touch, we collide,
Till we're worn out inside.
We're kicking each other,
Right where it hurts,
Setting up the big play,
And trying to score.
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Block--pass
I'm a football baby,
In a football game
I'm a football baby,
Run---kick---hit---goal .
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Their Football Team To Them Important
Their flags and their banners they are waving with joy and excitement they shout
The hero has kicked the winning goal but what are they shouting about
To them it should not really matter 'tis only a game of football
But to them it is very important and their's is the best team of all.
At least that is how they do see it their lives revolves around their team
When their team win a huge boost to their egos and a loss bad for their self esteem
Last week their team lost in a thriller but their loss reduced them to tears
And tonight they will sing their Club song in the Local and celebrate with a few beers.
They look forward to the football Season and they live for the love of the game
And on their bedroom walls a poster sized photograph of their heroes and they know every player by name
Why do they take football so serious they talk about it at work every day
But suppose each of us have our own passions and each to their own one might say.
Their flags and their banners they are waving as proudly they sing their Club song
And they look forward to next weekend's game each day till then for them too long
Their football team to them important their lives revolve around the game
And each time their heroes are defeated the umpires for the loss they will blame.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kicked Around
Ive been pulled to pieces, Ive got an arm over here,
Ive got a leg over there, Ive got my ass somewhere upside down,
But Im back, Im here to tell you Im back, better than before,
Cant keep a good thing down, uh-uh.
Well Ive been kicked around, never thought that I could fall,
Thought that I was standing tall, turned out I was the ball,
And you know what, and i, and i, and Ive been kicked around,
Baby after all, I took all the shots you called,
Turned out I was the ball, you kicked you pushed.
And Ive been kicked around, and Ive been upside down,
Oh Ive been bounced around, kicked around,
Im gonna get you, get you, your very momma will regret you,
Im going to stomp and drag you to your knees,
Your very papa will forget you, kicked around.
Oh i, oh i, oh Ive been bounced around,
Let me tell you, Im here to tell you,
You can get up, you can put all the pieces back together,
Yeah, dont let him stomp on you baby, get up now!
I said you made me feel so small, bouncing me against the wall,
Just like I was the ball, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!
Oh i, oh i, oh i, oh Ive been kicked around,
Now look at me baby, (trips alone) paved the memories you gave me,
My eyes are open, eyes are open, now I can see,
Youre nothing but a bad, bad memory,
Im all together now, all together now,
Im the biggest ball you ever did see, Im gonna roll on you,
Im gonna fall on you, Im gonna stomp on you,
Im gonna punch on you, Im gonna choke on you,
Im gonna rip you, drag you to your knees,
Your very papa will regret you!
No need to come begging to me, my heart is deaf to your plea,
The hurt you have planted has grown much in me,
Im gonna lie to you, get away from me!
Oh i, oh i, oh i, oh Ive been kicked around,
And Ive been upside down, been kicked around,
Yeah, here I am, Im back, Im all together,
Cant keep a good woman down, Im big and tall,
Listen to me, just listen to me, just look at me,
Im back, here I am, hear me coming....
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Insomnia and the Hole in the Universe
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
My brother kicked his feet to sleep and I sang the dirge song
My brother never missed a beat
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
My brother kicked his feet to sleep and I sang the dirge song
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
song performed by by Live from Secret Samadhi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because I was small, I was getting the hell kicked out of me playing football.
quote by Burt Bacharach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kicked In The Teeth
Two faced woman with the two faced lies
I hope your two faced living made you satisfied
Tell me baby I was your only one
While youve been running around town with every mothers son
Told your story about the women like you
Told your story about the things you do
I used to think that you were sugar and spice
I shouldve listened to my mothers advice
Chorus:
Kicked in the teeth again
Sometimes you lose, sometimes you win
Kicked in the teeth again
Aint this misery ever gonna end?
And Ive been kicked in the teeth
Kicked in the teeth again
Two faced woman, such a crying shame
Dont know nothing, youre all the same
You run around, hope you had your fun
You never know whos gonna win till the race been run
Chorus
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sun By Amy Boothby - Age 10 years
The sun is a beach ball covered in sand,
Warming up this little land.
It's been kicked into the blue sky,
By a boy on the beach, that kicked it too high.
It races you home, wherever you may be,
Who will win, you'll have to wait and see.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sickened By the Wicked and Kicked
So many moaning thrown under the bus.
And overdosed by phonies...
Now busted of trust.
And O.D.'d by these phonies,
They once believed.
O.D.'d by straight phonies,
They chose not to see!
So sad are these believers,
Deceived to grieve.
With hearts they show to others,
Upon on their sleeves.
And signs of empathy don't come at all!
To those spoiled by a lifestyle fed to fall.
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
So many moaning thrown under the bus.
And overdosed by phonies...
Now busted of trust.
And O.D.'d by these phonies,
They once believed.
O.D.'d by straight phonies,
They chose not to see!
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
So sad are these believers,
Deceived to grieve.
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
With hearts they show to others,
Upon on their sleeves.
And signs of empathy don't come at all!
To those spoiled by a lifestyle fed to fall.
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And signs of empathy don't come at all!
'You and me too.
Used and abused!
And...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked in the rear!
And O.D.'d by these phonies,
We once believed.
O.D.'d by straight phonies,
We chose not to see!
Now...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked.
Now...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked.
Now...
Sickened by the wicked and kicked.
Now...
Sickened by the wicked.
Sickened by the wicked.
Sickened by the wicked and kicked! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kick
Sometimes you kick
Sometimes you get kicked
Sometimes you kick
Come on come on come on come
I look around unsatisfied
At what theyre giving me
Then I think to myself
Is there someone else
Who feels the same as me
Do you feel the same baby
When my back is broken
When the mountain moves away
All the dreams and promises
That we give
We give away
Sometimes you kick
Sometimes you get kicked
Sometimes you kick
Sometimes you get kicked
Look ahead
But dont mix it up
Baby look ahead
To better days and better ways
Make peace with flesh and blood
Make peace with your love
Nothing more I could ask of you
In the end this is the truth
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Shattered the Mirror
I kicked the mirror with my boot,
Then I finally saw how different I looked.
I loved looking at me.
So I kicked the mirror again,
I looked ever more different,
Just the way I wanted to look.
This time, I kicked the mirror,
Till it made sounds of sharp shattering.
I looked gorgeous now in front of this mirror.P
I wanted to be shattered again!
Post shattering, I screamed hooray,
For my shattered look became me and I smiled.
The reason I shattererd this mirror,
Was that this mirror was my own self-image,
This mirror showed me bad,
So the self-improvement,
Was a happy thing not sad.
poem by Vera Sidhwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Say Hallelujah
Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone
Close your eyes
And bow your head
To rest your soul
And to praise the dead
Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone
Dry your eyes
And stand upright
Put a smile on your face
He wouldnt want us to cry
The sun will rise
The stars will shine
Turning day to dusk
And night to dawn
Well pass on
But until that time
Say Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Say Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone
Have mercy
Its a wonderful life
Eternal rest for the weary
Mourners party tonight
Say Hallelujah
Throw up your hands
The bucket is kicked
The body is gone
Wave your hands
But dont say goodbye
Were all gonna meet you
On the other side
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My old football
YOU can keep your antique silver and your statuettes of bronze,
Your curios and tapestries so fine,
But of all your treasures rare there is nothing to compare
With this patched up, wornout football pal o’ mine.
Just a patchedup wornout football, yet how it clings!
I live again my happier days in thoughts that football brings.
It’s got a mouth, it’s got a tongue,
And oft when we’re alone I fancy that it speaks
To me of golden youth that’s flown.
It calls to mind our meeting,
’Twas a present from the Dad.
I kicked it yet I worshipped it,
How strange a priest it had!
And yet it jumped with pleasure
When I punched it might and main:
And when it had the dumps
It got blown up and punched again.
It’s lived its life;
It’s played the game;
Its had its rise and fall,
There’s history in the wrinkles of that wornout football.
Caresses rarely came its way in babyhood ’twas tanned.
It’s been well oiled, and yet it’s quite teetotal, understand.
It’s gone the pace, and sometimes it’s been absolutely bust,
And yet ’twas always full of bounce,
No matter how ’twas cussed.
He’s broken many rules and oft has wandered out of bounds,
He’s joined in shooting parties
Over other people’s grounds.
Misunderstood by women,
He was never thought a catch,
Yet he was never happier
Than when bringing off a match.
He’s often been in danger
Caught in nets that foes have spread,
He’s even come to life again
When all have called him dead.
Started on the centre,
And he’s acted on the square,
To all parts of the compass
He’s been bullied everywhere.
His aims and his ambitious
Were opposed by one and all,
And yet he somehow reached his goal
That plucky old football.
When schooling days were ended
I forgot him altogether,
And ’midst the dusty years
He lay a crumpled lump of leather.
Then came the threat’ning voice of War,
And games had little chance,
My brother went to do his bit
Out there somewhere in France.
And when my brother wrote he said,
‘Of all a Tommy’s joys,
There’s none compares with football.
Will you send one for the boys?’
I sent not one but many,
And my old one with the rest,
I thought that football’s finished now,
But no he stood the test.
Behind the lines they kicked him
As he’d never been kicked before.
Till they busted him and sent him back
A keepsake of the war.
My brother lies out there in France,
Beneath a simple cross,
And I seem to feel my football knows my grief,
And shares my loss.
He tells me of that splendid charge,
And then my brother’s fall.
In life he loved our mutual chum
That worn-out football.
Oh you can keep your antique silver
And your statuettes of bronze
Your curios and tapestries so fine
But of all your treasures rare
There is nothing to compare
With that patched-up worn-out football—
Pal o’ mine.
----------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- --
poem by John Milton Hayes
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I Remember The Time
I remember the time when the Gaelic Footballers of Millstreet
In the Cork County Senior Championship for the best were a hard team to beat
But time does bring change as some like to say so
And that is going back a few decades ago.
Nowadays with Duhallow's best junior footballers Millstreet cannot compete
The downturn for them one can say is complete
But in sport as in life few things stay the same
And Gaelic Football after all is only a game.
The glory days for Millstreet Gaelic Football may be gone
But in the Town in view of Clara life as usual goes on
Though Millstreet glory days in sport Millstreet people like to recall
There is far more to life than Gaelic Football.
Of the North Cork Gaelic Football Clubs Millstreet were to the fore
And against the County's best they often kicked a winning score
And though no Gaelic Senior Football team in Millstreet today
Life as usual goes on in the Town far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You May Know A Lot About Your Favourite Game
You may know a lot about your favourite game
And from your commentaries and writings on it you know of wealth and fame
But there's more to life than talking of and writing of football
And about other things you seem to know little at all
By the followers of football your type are well known
And they look up to you as one in a class of your own
They well may be happy your praises to sing
For football to them is an important thing
But by other than me it has been said before
That football is just a game that and little more
For many from life's cares a brief getaway
To cheer on their team in the game of the day
And you football writer and commentator and sporting celebrity
You may seem enlightened to many but not so to me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If I liken the Pacific War to a football match, I can say to you that the first half is over, we have kicked off after the interval, and we are going to carry the ball into enemy territory for a smashing victory.
quote by John Curtin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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