Engine Of The Soul
Build me an engine -lady of my dream,
Let it be powered by eternal steam.
May patience be your tool of design,
Planning completeness with a cunning mind.
To drive the pistons of a soul's production,
We need fire with extreme combustion.
This fire from the fervor of powerful prayer
Will create the steam with warmth to spare.
The engine comes to life with a blast and a toot,
And begins to harvest the spiritual fruit.
Run on my soul, with speed aplenty;
For the harvest is rich and the prayers are many.
poem by Albert Price
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Steam Engine
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Produced by: chip douglas
Mr. engineer, slow the engine down some more.
Youre movin just a little too fast,
Ive got my foot down clear to the floor.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
Mr. engineer, you see Ive got a little problem here.
My baby, shes aboard your train,
She says shes never comin back again.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
She told me good bye, she said Im leavin you behind.
I think Im gonna die, if I hear that whistle whine.
Mr. engineer, slow the engine down some more.
Youre movin movin just a little too fast,
Ive got my foot down clear to the floor.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
(steam engines)gotta keep on keep on rollin.
(steam engines)shes gonna leave me behind.
(steam engines)i might as well go home.
(steam engines)shes gonna leave me behind.
(steam engines)i might as well go home.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Janice and You at Waterloo Station
At Waterloo Station
the steam engines
puffed powerful steam
reaching up
to the rooftop
and you stood there
hands in your pockets
your nose sniffing in
the white and grey smell
you can taste it
on your tongue
and Janice beside you
her eyes looked up
at the rooftop
as the steam
reached high
her hands clutching
the small bag
I want to be a train driver
when I'm older
you said
I want to smell
that smell
and breathe in
that steam and shovel
coal in the engine
maybe you will
Janice said
maybe you'll be
on a train like that
big and black
and powerful
she put her hand
under your arm
and squeezed
Gran said we can be
what we want
if we want it
bad enough
Janice added
you felt her hand
under your arm
sensed her squeeze it
we went to the seaside
on a big black train
like this last year
you said
and I put my head
out the train window
and my mum said
keep your head in
or a train
will knock it off
that'd be horrible
Janice said
she clutched
closer to you
as the steam train
puffed out more steam
and the sound was loud
and powerful
and she said
maybe
when you're an engine driver
you can take me
to the seaside
with Gran
yes
you said
and if you come
to the engine
before you take off
I can show you
the engine
and how powerful it is
and she smiled
and put her head
on your shoulder
yes
you said softly
when I grow up
and when I am older.
poem by Terry Collett
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Steam-train to the stars
there would be no count-down
or blast-off
no excessive speed
just a gradual accelaration
no need for cumbersome attire
a blazer or a sweater would suffice
they're off
roof-top height
then the clouds
or is it steam
or smoke
or fire
no it's the setting sun
and then the parachutes
we counted three
the engine-driver
the fireman
and the guard
someone observed
jokingly
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Build A Fire (lenny Dee Remix)
Pulled up to rest, let the engine cool awhile.
Open the beans, gather wood for the fire.
I hum this tune, to all the girls I've known.
Should I care, about the chances I've blown?
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
They're gonna build a fire
They're gonna build a fire
When daylight breaks, I'll be down that road.
Rockman 'an me, with a lighter load.
We'll stop fo r lunch, in some taco bar.
Lee Marvin on the jukebox, 'Wanderin Star'.
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
Build a fire, they're gonna build a fire
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Build A Fire
Pulled up to rest, let the engine cool awhile.
Open the beans, gather wood for the fire.
I hum this tune, to all the girls Ive known.
Should I care, about the chances Ive blown?
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
Theyre gonna build a fire
Theyre gonna build a fire
When daylight breaks, Ill be down that road.
Rockman an me, with a lighter load.
Well stop for lunch, in some taco bar.
Lee marvin on the jukebox, wanderin star.
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
Build a fire, theyre gonna build a fire
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Of The Steam-powered Trains
Like the last of the good ol puffer trains,
Im the last of the blood and sweat brigade,
And I dont know where Im going, or why I came.
Im the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.
Im the last of the good old renegades.
All my friends are all middle class and grey,
But I live in a museum, so Im okay.
Im the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.
Like the last of the good ol choo-choo trains,
Huff and puff till I blow this world away,
And Im gonna keep on rollin till my dying day.
Im the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.
Like the last of the good ol puffer trains,
Im the last of the soot and scum[? ] brigade,
And all this peaceful living is drivin me insane.
Im the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.
Im the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I guess the two things I was most interested in were telescopes and steam engines. My father was an engineer on a threshing rig steam engine and I loved the machinery.
quote by Clyde Tombaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When steam first began to pump and wheels go round at so many revolutions per minute, what are called business habits were intended to make the life of man run in harmony with the steam engine, and his movement rival the train in punctuality.
quote by George William Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hindus' Karma Theory
Soul had no pain without body.
Body has no pain without soul.
Soul, liberated has no pain.
Body, dead, lost senses for pain.
Engine with oil runs the car.
Without oil, the car won't move.
The credit goes to the engine.
Burdon of the fruit goes with soul.
The soul finds an entrance in a birth.
With it come the fruit of the past.
As long as the sin carried over,
The soul enters birth after birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Myself with you.
You cannot stop this engine
From running
Fed as it is with the nuclear energy
Of self-determination
You cannot block this again with
Any call for kindness your face of sobriety & propriety
Sustained as it is with the pride
Of its sufficiency, this engine of life
Away from human drama this engine
Of love and belief of self
Plunges into an eternal destination
Or damnation, or whatever
This engine must go, on and on
Unstoppable unconquered unhindered
This engine I call
Myself with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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64
Myself with you.
You cannot stop this engine
From running
Fed as it is with the nuclear energy
Of self-determination
You cannot block this again with
Any call for kindness your face of sobriety & propriety
Sustained as it is with the pride
Of its sufficiency, this engine of life
Away from human drama this engine
Of love and belief of self
Plunges into an eternal destination
Or damnation, or whatever
This engine must go, on and on
Unstoppable unconquered unhindered
This engine I call
Myself with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Iron Lady
A proud, regal, majestic and elegant machine,
She's a magnificent sight, this metal powered dream
Pulsating over hundreds of miles of railway track,
Never once to be found, ever looking back,
Onward with a purpose, watch how she races,
Visiting destinations, in so many far off places,
Pushing on, with such vigorous determination,
Giving not one thought, or one moment's hesitation,
Dedicated loyal service, she's an engine so supreme,
That romantic iron lady, from the golden age of steam.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting On The Wheat Harvest
as you sow brothers sisters so you wheat harvest reap
as a grain of wheat dies germinates bears fruit to heap
Jesus will completely clean up threshing floor gather his wheat
chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire hell suffering heat
an enemy came in over sowed weeds in among seed wheat
reapers harvest collect weeds burn them saving only wheat
Satan demands sifts men as wheat to blow away in sifting wind
Son of man will send angels to gather chosen ones from ill wind
a grain of wheat falls into the ground dies then bears fruit new life
so hate soul temptation in this world safeguard soul for eternal life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Locomotive
A big locomotive has pulled into town,
Heavy, humungus, with sweat rolling down,
A plump jumbo olive.
Huffing and puffing and panting and smelly,
Fire belches forth from her fat cast iron belly.
Poof, how she's burning,
Oof, how she's boiling,
Puff, how she's churning,
Huff, how she's toiling.
She's fully exhausted and all out of breath,
Yet the coalman continues to stoke her to death.
Numerous wagons she tugs down the track:
Iron and steel monsters hitched up to her back,
All filled with people and other things too:
The first carries cattle, then horses not few;
The third car with corpulent people is filled,
Eating fat frankfurters all freshly grilled.
The fourth car is packed to the hilt with bananas,
The fifth has a cargo of six grand pi-an-as.
The sixth wagon carries a cannon of steel,
With heavy iron girders beneath every wheel.
The seventh has tables, oak cupboards with plates,
While an elephant, bear, two giraffes fill the eighth.
The ninth contains nothing but well-fattened swine,
In the tenth: bags and boxes, now isn't that fine?
There must be at least forty cars in a row,
And what they all carry -- I simply don't know:
But if one thousand athletes, with muscles of steel,
Each ate one thousand cutlets in one giant meal,
And each one exerted as much as he could,
They'd never quite manage to lift such a load.
First a toot!
Then a hoot!
Steam is churning,
Wheels are turning!
More slowly - than turtles - with freight - on their - backs,
The drowsy - steam engine - sets off - down the tracks.
She chugs and she tugs at her wagons with strain,
As wheel after wheel slowly turns on the train.
She doubles her effort and quickens her pace,
And rambles and scrambles to keep up the race.
Oh whither, oh whither? go forward at will,
And chug along over the bridge, up the hill,
Through mountains and tunnels and meadows and woods,
Now hurry, now hurry, deliver your goods.
Keep up your tempo, now push along, push along,
Chug along, tug along, tug along, chug along
Lightly and sprightly she carries her freight
Like a ping-pong ball bouncing without any weight,
Not heavy equipment exhausted to death,
But a little tin toy, just a light puff of breath.
Oh whither, oh whither, you'll tell me, I trust,
What is it, what is it that gives you your thrust?
What gives you momentum to roll down the track?
It's hot steam that gives me my clickety-clack.
Hot steam from the boiler through tubes to the pistons,
The pistons then push at the wheels from short distance,
They drive and they push, and the train starts a-swooshin'
'Cuz steam on the pistons keeps pushin' and pushin';
The wheels start a rattlin', clatterin', chatterin'
Chug along, tug along, chug along, tug along! . . . .
poem by Julian Tuwim
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Quiet Steam
Released as b-side of digging in the dirt single, 1992.
Stand back
Stand back
What are those dogs doing, sniffing at my feet
Theyre onto something, pickin up, pickin up
This heat
This heat
Give me steam
How you feel can make it real
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as anything you see
Get a life in this dreamers dream
You know your culture from your trash
You know your plastic from your cash
When I lose sight of the track
You know the way back
But I know you
You know your stripper from your paint
You know your sinner from your saint
Whenever heavens doors are shut
You get them open, but
I know you
Give me steam
And how you feel can make it real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as anything you see
Get a life in this dreamers dream
You know your green from your red
You know the quick from the dead
So much better than the rest
You think youve been blessed
But I know you
You know your ladder from your snake
You know the throttle from the brake
You know your straight line from the curve
Youve got a lot of nerve
But I know you
Give me steam
And how you feel can make it real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as any place youve been
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Oh yeah, I need steam
Feel your steam around me
Turning up the heat
I start to dream aloud
You move my hands and feet
Wont you step into this cloud
Of steam
This steam
Give me steam
How you feel can make it real
Real as anything youve seen
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Give me steam
How you feel can make it so real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Help me yeah
Comin alive
In your steam
Comin alive
In your steam
Comin alive
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steam Dreams
In this day of electric and diesel, very rarely is seen,
A shining locomotive, which is powered by steam.
Back in the days, when my parents were born,
The sight of a steam train was quite the norm.
Whenever a steam train catches my eye,
I stand, watching in awe, as it passes by.
‘Oh wow! Look! ’ I say, as I point a finger,
And the memory of it in my mind will linger.
Steam trains will never completely die out,
As, thankfully, there’s still quite a few about.
About a steam train, there’s something really quite dramatic.
And at the chance of riding on one, people are often ecstatic.
I remember seeing The Flying Scotsman at Salisbury station,
And I stood there marvelling at it with such great admiration.
The engine and all of its carriages just looked so smart.
The sight of such a train, never fails to quicken the heart.
Steam trains are so very elegant in their style.
To spot one, enthusiasts will travel many a mile.
It strange to think that years ago, they were all the rage,
When, they are such a very rare sight, in this day and age.
The sight of the world famous Orient Express,
Is one which will never ever fail to impress.
Through the windows, you can see the plush seats,
Where excited passengers will sit down and eat.
On board, the historic carriages of brown and cream,
They serve expensive champagne and gourmet cuisine.
Sat in a world of pure indulgence, passengers glide,
Through the green and pleasant British countryside.
The carriages have all been restored to their former glory;
If they could talk, I’m sure they could all share quite a story.
The carriages have been described as ‘palaces on wheels’,
And I would really love to know just how that feels.
Still being a very rare sight in these modern times,
I fancy taking a trip on a steam train, to sit and dine.
I guess you would have to pay quite a princely sum,
But I think it would be worth it, just to travel on one.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Cooking Recalls The Past
The steam is hissing from the spout
As the pressure cooker pushes it out
Takes my back to my childhood past
As great steam engines go flying past
Huffing and puffing plumes of smoke
You cough and splutter it makes you choke
The ground it shakes under foot
As you hear that high pitched toot
Traveling along its metal road
Its boiler bubbling to near explode
As it carries its heavy load
Driver on his footplate stood
Face covered in oil and with soot
Proud was he as was his dad
For an engine driver he was glad
Timer rings cooking done
Brings me back form times of childhood fun
25 10 10
Chellaston
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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Just A Dream
First we want and then we desire
The soul is consumed by need and fire
To build and create becomes the passion
And by doing our will, will become the action.
To build and construct will become the need
That desire in our mind and soul we must feed
We sweat and we will fight for it to survive
It will become our child as we gave it life.
We will watch it grow every step of the way
And we are there with it every night and day
But before our accomplishment there was a scheme
And before that; its beginning was just a dream.
Randy McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Heart's On Fire
Whoa, Yeah
When your heart's on fire,
Runnin' on the edge.
Do you know what I mean?
When your heart's on fire, yeah.
That's the only time your soul runs free.
Gotta get away, get a little freedom.
Somethin' of my own.
People wanna say, what I should be.
Why can't they leave me alone?
Don't know if the way I feel,
Hunger is the word.
I can't keep it inside.
I can feel the heat,
And the pressure's on.
Gotta break away, just to stay alive.
And my heart's on fire.
And I'm runnin' on the edge,
Do you know what I mean, Ooh.
When your heart's on fire, yeah.
That's the only time your soul runs free.
Tearin' up the road,
Listen to the engine scream.
Give it all that she has.
Push it to the line,
But never lookin' back,
As I live each day like the last.
You can try, for what you want,
And get what you deserve.
Don't let go of your dream.
When you bet your life,
You can have it all.
When it's do or die,
There's no inbetween.
If your heart's on fire.
Livin' on the edge.
Ooh, and you're burnin' up, Whoa.
Oh yeah.
You can live the way you want,
There's nothing to regret.
Every move you make,
And every chance you get.
When your heart's on fire.
And runnin' on the edge.
Do you know what I mean, Ooh.
When your heart's on fire, yeah.
That's the only time your soul runs free.
When your heart's on fire, runnin' on the edge.
Do you know what I mean?
Whoa, Oh.
Heart's on fire.
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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