I don't think Ed Sullivan had anything to do with Carib Song.
quote by Katherine Dunham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song of the World
such a wonderful song
song of life
song of death
wedding song
famine song
happy song
sad song
love song
all-american song
bullshit song
druggie song
girls' song
sweet song
crazy song
MY song
poem by Rachel Stoddard
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Sullivan Street
Take the way home that leads back to Sullivan Street
Cross the water and home through the town
Past the shadows that fall down wherever we meet
Pretty soon now I won't come around
I'm almost drowning in her sea
She's nearly fallen to her knees
Take the way home
Take the way home that leads back to Sullivan Street
Where all the bodies hang on the air
If she remembers
song performed by by Counting Crows from August And Everything After
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of Cockatoo Dock
Of all the docks upon the blue
There was no dockyard, old or new,
To touch the dock at Cockatoo.
Of all the ministerial clan
There was no nicer, worthier man
Than Admiral O'Sullivan.
Of course, we mean E. W.
O'Sullivan, the hero who
Controlled the dock at Cockatoo.
To workmen he explained his views --
"You need not toil unless you choose,
Your only work is drawing screws."
And sometimes to their great surprise
When votes of censure filled the skies
He used to give them all a rise.
"What odds about a pound or two?"
Exclaimed the great E. W.
O'Sullivan at Cockatoo.
The dockyard superintendent, he
Was not at all what he should be --
He sneered at all this sympathy.
So when he gave a man the sack
O'Sullivan got on his track
And straightway went and fetched him back.
And with a sympathetic tear
He'd say, "How dare you interfere,
You most misguided engineer?
"Your sordid manners please amend --
No man can possibly offend
Who has a Member for a friend.
"With euchre, or a friendly rub,
And whisky, from the nearest 'pub',
We'll make the dockyard like a club.
"Heave ho, my hearties, play away,
We'll do no weary work today.
What odds -- the public has to pay!
"And if the public should complain
I'll go to Broken Hill by train
To watch McCarthy making rain."
And there, with nothing else to do
No doubt the great E. W.
Will straightway raise McCarthy's screw.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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I'm Singing
I’m Singing…
I’m Singing a New Song…
Deep Inside my Heart…
It’s a Song…that is different from any other song I have sung before…
It is a Song of…
A Song of Hope,
A Song of Love,
A Song of Fate,
A Song of Peace,
A Song of Friendship,
A Song of Family,
A Song of Life,
A Song of Healing,
A Song of Strength,
A Song of Courage,
A Song of Light,
A Song of Flight…
My Heart is beginning to Soar…
I’m finally starting to Fly…
I’m Singing…
poem by Bleeding Heart
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Sing Me A Song
Sing me a song,
A song you and I know,
A song that will put me to sleep,
This song that I always listen to makes me cry,
Missing you with every inch on my heart,
Knowing that you will not return,
Sing me a song,
A song that will help me forget about you,
A song that will heal my heart,
A song of forgiveness,
Just sing a song,
A song that can not be forgotten,
A song so memorable,
Only a memory,
Sing me song,
A song that we will love,
A song we can not live with out,
Just sing me a song,
A song that only you and I know.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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The Shanty
THERE ARE tracks through the scrub, there’s a track down the hill,
And a track round the bend from M‘Courteney’s mill,
Where they slyly emerge from the bush and converge,
You’ll discover the humpy—the theme of this dirge—
That is used for the sale of O’Sullivan’s ‘purge.’
And if curses and cries,
And a blasting of eyes,
And a series of blasphemies fearful arise,
And a lunatic din,
And a racket like sin,
You can bet all you own the O’Sullivan’s in.
It’s a bark and slab hut, with a bar and a bunk,
And a man propped before it disgustingly drunk,
And a nameless galoot in a hand-me-down suit,
Straddling out on the grass, grim as death, and as mute,
Trapping millions of rabbits that run from his boot.
When eleven lie round
In all shapes on the mound,
And two navvies are fighting like fiends on the ground,
’Tisn’t needful to say
It’s the sweet Sabbath day,
And that trade at the shanty’s uncommonly gay.
Mrs. O’. makes the drinks, and O’Sullivan’s dart
Is to drink all he can to keep others in heart.
Though he’s old in the hoof, and he reckons he’s proof
’Gainst infernalest liquors, in warp and in woof,
He’s quite frequently seen howling out on the roof.
For from fungus or fruits,
From old rags or from roots,
Grass, cabbages, pickles, old bedding or boots,
Or the leaves of the gum,
Or whatever may come,
Mrs. O’. can extract the most illigant’ rum.
They’ve no peace in the hut and no peace on the hill,
Mrs. O’. never sleeps and her hand’s never still;
And old constable Mack cannot hit on the track
As a man of the law. As a stranger in black
When he finds his way there he can’t find his way back.
There’s no signboard to see,
But those fools on the spree,
Or a man in his shirt shrieking prayers to a tree.
As for licenses—yar!
They don’t know what they are,
For they drink without license at Sullivan’s bar.
poem by Edward George Dyson
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The Sing Of A Song Of Life
a song in our eyes
a song in our imagery ears
a song in our hands
a song in our feet
It's a distant song
It's a future song
A song who says
beyond future, beyond distances, beyond nothing,
a song that resembles your life, so tell it
in a song as if you were telling it in a story
poem by Anye'a B. Pinnock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music Is My Life
I am just sitting here,
Making love to my guitar
Strumming out music,
My love doesn't stray too far.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Hugs and kisses come easy,
From the strings that I caress.
There is nothing more pretty,
Than my guitar in full dress.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
I am carried into ecstasy
With each note that floats out
Feel the music within me,
It's busting its way out.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Play the music with me,
Sing and raise your voice.
You will feel the love of Music,
Your heart will have no choice.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I'm singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Life cannot deny me love,
Or the music that's inside me
The melodies are my heart and soul,
And it will always be my decree.
REB (FEB 2012) Dedicated to Twig Sullivan, because music is her life
poem by Rik Bertrand
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My Music Is My Life
MUSIC IS MY LIFE
I am just sitting here,
Making love to my guitar
Strumming out music,
My love doesn’t stray too far.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Hugs and kisses come easy,
From the strings that I caress.
There is nothing more pretty,
Than my guitar in full dress.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
I am carried into ecstasy
With each note that floats out
Feel the music within me,
It’s busting its way out.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Play the music with me,
Sing and raise your voice.
You will feel the love of Music,
Your heart will have no choice.
My music is my life,
And my love is a heart filled song.
As long as I’m singing,
I know there can be no wrong.
Life cannot deny me love,
Or the music that’s inside me
The melodies are my heart and soul,
And it will always be my decree.
REB (FEB 2012) Dedicated to Twig Sullivan, because music is her life
poem by Rik Bertrand
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I never liked making albums.
quote by Jim Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sing of song
it's a song without title
a song without word
a song without sound
a song in our eyes
a song in our ears
a song in our hands
a song in our feet
We are singing the song
without title
a nameless song
It's a distant song
It's a future song
A song who says:
beyond future, beyond distances,
beyond nothing, beyond always
a song in a single colour
that we don't see
many colours
much colours
unknown colours
this was
a song of your mother
a song of your grandmothers
a song of one very old woman
Sleep, sleep my little love
Dream, dream my little love
when you close open your wide eyes
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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Tell me, Connie, is your mother still dead?
quote by Ed Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I used to get nervous so I took up Yoga to help me calm down.
quote by Jim Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homosexuality is like the weather. It just is.
quote by Andrew Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never had a Christmass at home for about 10 years.
quote by Jim Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well I know I was contracted to Polydor so they couldn't use my name.
quote by Jim Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All of us are much more human than otherwise.
quote by Harry Stack Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My mother, she's like, She can work on herself.
quote by Nicole Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Song
I have no song
But still I sing
I let my voice
Fly on wing
For even though
My heart is bare
I have a song
Yet to spare
The song I sing
It has not one word
But far and wide
It's ever heard
My song is
Universal see
Song of wild
Always free
Sung by many
Sung by one
Sung beneath
A dying sun
Song of joy
Yet song of pain
Song of long nights
In the rain
Song of battles
Song of strife
Song of death
But also life
I'll sing untill
I have no breath
And then I'll sing
My song in death
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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I hope to soon be in contact with the man who is searching for Noah's ark.
quote by Jim Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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