Something In The Papers
'What's in the paper?' Oh, it's dev'lish dull:
There's nothing happening at all-a lull
After the war-storm. Mr. Someone's wife
Killed by her lover with, I think, a knife.
A fire on Blank Street and some babies-one,
Two, three or four, I don't remember, done
To quite a delicate and lovely brown.
A husband shot by woman of the town
The same old story. Shipwreck somewhere south.
The crew, all saved-or lost. Uncommon drouth
Makes hundreds homeless up the River Mud
Though, come to think, I guess it was a flood.
'T is feared some bank will burst-or else it won't
They always burst, I fancy-or they don't;
Who cares a cent?-the banker pays his coin
And takes his chances: bullet in the groin
But that's another item-suicide
Fool lost his money (serve him right) and died.
Heigh-ho! there's noth-Jerusalem! what's this:
Tom Jones has failed! My God, what an abyss
Of ruin!-owes me seven hundred clear!
Was ever such a damned disastrous year!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Big Money
More info about this song in the song database
My older brother tommy was a lineman rest his soul
His job was hanging hot wires on them high-line power poles
Every morning bright and early hed climb way up in the sky
And I never understood it so one day I asked him why
Chorus:
He said it pays big money and man Im into that
It pays big money if youre willing to take a chance
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money but he sure cant spend it now
Well, my late uncle charlie was this demolition hound
Hed travel across the country blowing buildings to the ground
He carried a case of dynamite seemed everywhere he went
He smoked them big long cigars and hed wink at you and grin
Repeat first chorus
Well now the moral of this story boys, is dont go getting yourself killed
Be kind to your rich relatives they just might put you in their will
Chorus:
That pays big money and were all into that
It pays big money and big moneys where its at
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money and were rolling in it now
Chorus:
It pays big money having foolish kin
It pays big money guess I owe it all to them
Let me show you something sonny, take a look at this bank account
It pays big money; lets all spend some of it now
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The River
When my wife died I used to walk alone by the river,
but I don’t go near there any more.
Lost souls who had drowned used to speak to me
of the lives they had once before.
Every time I went they asked me to enter the water,
‘It will clear your mind, ’ they said.
I told them that I had never learned how to swim
and drowning is the only thing I dread.
One early morning I was walking along the river-bank
and the bank collapsed beneath my feet.
I found myself being swept along by the raging current
and saw my wife drowning in the deep.
Several of the dead I used to talk with held me under,
my breath expired and I just sank.
My wife pulled me up from the river’s depths
and a fisherman revived me on the bank.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bulletproof
Limb by limb and tooth by tooth
It's tearing up inside of me
Everyday, every hour wish that I
Was bullet proof
Wax me
Mould me
Heat the pins and stab them in
You have turned me into this
Just wish that it
Was bullet proof
Was bullet proof
So pay me money and take a shot
Lead-fill the hole in me
I could burst a million bubbles
All surrogate
And bullet proof
And bullet proof
And bullet proof
And bullet proof
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Would You Believe It?
One year ago I wished that I
A banker great might be
With a hundred million dollars
And financial majesty;
A mighty Wall Street banker
With a whopping lot of power
And an income of somewhere around
A thousand plunks per hour;
A solid Wall Street banker
With securities in sacks
And with clever men to show me
How to pay no income tax;
A wealthy Wall Street banker
Who raked in cash like hay;
I wished that just a year ago—
And I wish the same today.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Bloke With Heaps Of Money
The old bloke with heaps of money was buried yesterday
Yet for his funeral services and his burial the town charities will pay
For all the money that he had by him hidden away
At least a couple of million so those who knew him say.
He never fathered children he never had a wife
Earning money and hiding it was his great joy in life
He did not trust the banks at all so his millions he did hide
And of where his hidden fortune is the secret with him died.
He lived in a one bedrooom basement apartment he paid the cheapest rent
And he saved as much as he could save he never wasted a cent
In his very early seventies he died quite suddenly
The millionaire in money who died in poverty.
The old bloke with heaps of money was the meanest one in town
To be the town's greatest miser was his claim to renown
None ever sang his praises since praise he was not due
And where he hid his millions not one does have a clue.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tina Toledos Street Walkin Blues
Sweet talkin johnny push a john quicker than he spit
Street walkin tin with a crooked crown waitin for it
There she goes
She born in boston but the amtrak took her away
She lives in brooklyn but she works outta queens in the
Black limousines, money in the bank
Black limousines, money in the bank
Send it home
Tina toledo got a kid that lives with her ma
She takes the subway after school, makes up her face, changes clothes
There she goes
She feels the rain coming down on washington square
She gives the cops on the beat a little discount
And then, then, then its
Black limousines, money in the bank
Black limousines, money in the bank
Wend it home
Hard on the knees, money in the bag
Hard on the knees, money in the bag
Send it home for medical school
Rock herself to sleep with the rhythm of the rain
Beating like the be against the window frame
Of her hotel room
Rock herself to sleep with the tunes on the dash
Dont take no credit cards, she takes cash
Says, money, money, money in the bank
Money, money, money in the bank
Money, money, money in the bank
Money, money, money in the bank
It aint no easy life but it pays pretty good,
Keeps her out of the cold
It aint no easy life
But its silver and gold
Silver, silver, silver and gold
Tina toledos street walkin blues
Street walkin, wtreet walkin blues
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Under A Sky So Blue
This cynical town will never die
Something lost can’t be saved
Doesn’t matter the tears you cry
Can’t stop this way that’s been paved
I find it strange nothing new
Never knew it was a danger
Under a sky so blue
Never feared that stranger
What’s the point if it’s lost?
Something we want to hide
Who cares at what cost
As long as by the laws we abide
Don’t tell me to leave it be
Its wrong never been so right
Why, why won’t you see!
Where is that kind light?
Listen to their cries
So desperate needing a hero
Blinded by their simple lies
All their lives adding up to zero
But no this cynical town will never die
Something lost can’t be saved
Doesn’t matter the tears you cry
Can’t stop this way that’s been paved
poem by Rebecca Pepper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Painter’s Agony
I want to paint that river
And the scene behind it
The boat and the boatmen
I know everything about
That river
My association with the river
Many a hundred memories
Evenings and sunshines
Floods and slow water
I have lived my life
On the bank of that river
I want to paint
Paint it with the most beautiful colors
I want to borrow some colors
From the colors of paradise
And I love the town
That lives beside the river
Old and dusty
Where shall I take you
In that small town
Every nook and corner
Shall tell you that it knows me
I want to paint that town
In colors of heaven
I want to carry a few children
And take them on a tour
I want to see the town with their eyes
And then go to the riverbank
And meditate for a while
Drink the wine of nature
And get lost into the world of beauty
And flow with the river
Enter every house
My heart throbs in harmony
With every heart in the town
Give me colors divine
Colors from the other world
For I want to paint
That river and that town
(This poem is about a small town on the bank of river Indus)
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I’m So Lost
I’m so lost
I’m barely alive
I wouldn’t be missed
If I were to die
I’m so lost
only my bills would miss me
My girlfriend wouldn’t know
until she tried to kiss me
I’m so lost
all my lost things I’ve found
Not sure if it was them
or me on the ground
I’m so lost
I don’t remember my name
What I do
or from where I came
I’m so lost
Who even cares
No one understands
Just a lot of blank stares
I'm so lost
and all alone
I can't reach you
even on the phone
I’m so lost
Just wondering around
If I were any more lost
I would probably get found
poem by Rusty Gibson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Question
AND so in the death-darkened chamber they met,
The woman that once he had loved and the one he loved yet—
The wife who had warped his desire and the woman he could not forget.
They stood by the bier where between them he slept,
And the love he had lost in his wife to her swimming eyes leapt;
But the woman his life had belonged to—his paramour—spoke not nor wept.
It was only a story of sated desire—
Of a love merely sensual burnt to an ash by its fire,
And a husband who turned to a more luscious love that was his for the hire.
All had sinned. For the husband had killed by his clutch,
Rough-handed, the fruit of a love that had dropped at his touch.
One woman's great sin was not loving, his wife's was in loving too much.
And so he had died; it was over at last;
And across him the two women looked at each other aghast—
Across his cold corse, and across the cold corse of the loathsome dead Past!
Then the smouldering love of the wife leapt to flame,
And she poured forth her kisses upon him, and called on his name.
But the other said “No, he is nothing to you; soul and body I claim!”
They looked at each other awhile. Said the wife wearily,
“He is mine; for I loved him, and ever shall love him; let be!”
But the other sneered, “No, he is mine, and mine only, because he loved me!”
Then the two laid their hands on the body between;
And fought for it, wife against paramour, fiercely, unseen—
For the body diseased and polluted, as ever his spirit had been.
And this is a question for answer in Hell:
To which of the two did his spirit belong, can you tell?
Think, was it the woman he loved, or the one who had loved him too well?
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Waiting To Be Saved
I heard about this story in the news today,
About a man who lost his senses, lost his way,
About a man who had his will taken away.
He took his life but not before he made them pay.
So go on ask yourself the question
(Are you convinced that you're ok?)
Are you convinced that you're ok?
(So go on ask yourself the question)
And often times it makes you wonder...
Are we not that safe?
I heard this story about this woman yesterday,
A 27 year old teacher of 5th grade,
Kid bought a gun to school and took her life away,
The politicians placed the blame,
And nothing changed!
And I feel it today, (Feel it today)
It feels like nothing else, nothing else I am waiting to be saved.
HELPLESS!
I feel it today, (Feel it today)
It feels like nothing else, nothing else I am waiting to be saved.
So go on ask yourself the question
(Are you convinced that you're ok?)
Are you convinced that you're ok?
(So go on ask yourself the question)
And often times it makes you wonder...
Are we not that safe?
And I feel it today, (Feel it today)
It feels like nothing else, nothing else I am waiting to be saved.
HELPLESS!
I feel it today, (Feel it today)
It feels like nothing else, nothing else I am waiting to be saved.
I heard a story from the media today,
About a man who lost his senses, lost his way,
About a woman who was taken yesterday,
About the children who may never see the light of day!
And I feel it today, (Feel it today)
It feels like nothing else, nothing else I am waiting to be saved.
HELPLESS!
And I feel it today, (Feel it today)
It feels like nothing else, nothing else I am waiting to be saved.
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Never The God...
Your eyes bright, eager and trusting,
Where do we go from here, my son,
I spent my essence, loving and lusting,
Chasing a paper god, my son.
I turned my sword to a feathered quill,
Ensnared your mother’s heart, my son,
She loved the god in the paper spill
But never the god in your father, son.
We came together when life was full
And loved at the morning light, my son,
‘Til she grew heavy and I grew dull
While you just quickened and grew, my son.
Then you burst out like a single star
That beamed from our both horizons, son
We loved you more than the what-we-were
Than ever we loved each other, son.
So she grew bitter and sharp of tongue
And I went back to the pen, my son,
But all the words that I’d ever sung
Unravelled in desolation, son.
And when she left, she took you too,
The light in my life went out, my son,
I would she’d loved me as I loved you
But love is a laceration, son.
Now you have grown, the world’s ahead,
Your eyes are eager and bright, my son;
Don’t spend your essence on paper gods
Or trust in a woman’s love, my son.
For dreams and all ambitions fade
When a woman leaves in a storm, my son,
Remember the price that your father paid;
Love sought and lost in a rhyme, my son.
13 September 1991
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Super Woman
She is very strong, does not complain about anything
she makes mistake, but still moving forward
Her husband is so proud of her
She takes responsibility husband home or not.
She did do all the paper works and gave her husband to sign.
She do everything, by herself. Everything
Super woman, who is like her?
She is every woman, wonder woman.
You know when you see her.
poem by Modupe Obatuyi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Freedom Park
Build your monument to a war
that you have lost at Cuito Cuanavale
and try to deceive the world
about your victory
which was rather your huge loss
and hail Russians and Cubans as your heroes
and we who have paid the cost
knows where victory really laid
and that no bugle ever played its last farewell
to the enemy we sent to hell
and although no one mourns our dead
most of us live on instead.
We do not need to be on any
honour wall
or to be associated
with your heroes
who mowed down people
praying in a church
and set off bombs in the street.
We never lost any battle
nor a war
and our honour is in the lives
of every man, women and child
who in a way are still free.
[Reference: “The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.” Jannie Geldenhuys.1994. At the front. P240. Johanathan Ball Publishers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Town Types No.17- Mr Bodge the Banker
Mr Bodge, the banker, was a power in the land;
His city bank had granted him an autocratic hand;
For our town was most remote from commerce centres then,
And only Mr Bodge could know who were our solid men.
So Mr Bodge within his bank reigned with a pride immense,
And rich men and poor men, they paid him deference;
For who could know when droughts would come to jeopardise some plan?
And one word from Mr Bodge might save or sink a man.
He shone among the 'silvertails,' a leading social light,
Well dressed, well groomed and painfully polite.
He entertained the Governor, when he was in our town,
Magistrates and M.P.'s and others of renown.
In full beards and top hats, with such a fancy spread
That the fat cook at Flynn's pub went nearly off her head
Cold collations, caviare, foods till then unknown,
And all were sure that Mr Bodge had money of his own.
He beamed on Peter Connor when he came into the bank,
For Connor was our squatter and a man of social rank.
He beamed on all the 'silvertails' of his exclusive set;
He frowned on cocky farmers who were over-long in debt.
'My bank considers character,' he'd sternly say to those.
'If you can't pay the fifty pounds, I fear we must foreclose.'
And, tho' small men called him a snob, most of the town agreed
That Mr Bodge, tho' hard at times, was very just indeed.
He once went on extended leave, and all the town's elect
Gave him a champagne send-off. 'Twas the least one might expect.
But when he overstayed his leave there was a mighty din,
The bank sent its inspectors up and called its money in
Or tried to. But old Connor failed, and Collins at the store,
The chemist and the auctioneer and half a dozen more.
And men long talked with bated breath of that depression dire
When Mr Bodge, the banker, left the old town in the mire.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Memories of a River
Each river has a bunch of stories to tell
The story of dreams failed
Of lost love
Of the burning truth and the hot smell
Of life real
The river even knew the pain
Of thoughts going parallel
With their hands never yielding to a touch
The injured lives
The deceit killed a heart
And the river knew it before
Lust reigned in one
And the river could see it in the eyes
And waited for the injured soul
Each day the river waited for the silent cries from afar
The sighs of the world thronged on its shore
And the delight of the paper boats,
Will it survive the sighs?
Again the monsoon came late
But the river was wet with memories
poem by Meenu Alex
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God Save The South
It was a red hot night night in mobile
Sweat glistened on the reverends chin
His mohair suit was shinin
He told us all about sin
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
Across the street in the pool hall
Bubba put the eight ball down
Its a high five celebration
They passed the jack around
Its wall to wall in wall street
Were livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Shut your mouth
Some long haired boys with guitars
Playin behind the chicken wire
Theyre goin up to new york city
Gonna sing about atlantas fire
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
So,yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Successful
Some folks say success is all about money.
Well if that's the case
I'm a failure honey.
I've got a few dollars
saved up for bad times
but none of them came
from committin' any crimes.
Now Mr Jones is successful.
He drives a big car.
He has a fancy house and boat
and every 4 years he wants my vote.
But I guess he's successful
'cause he's got lots of money.
I read in the papers
Mr. Jones is dyin'
but surely they can fix him
with all that money.
'Cause he's successful,
Isn't he honey?
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guess I Just Lost My Head
I really dont mean to stare
I was only trying to memorize you there
You know I meant no harm
Its just that the starlight in your eye
Gave me a chill, nearly made me cry
Im sure its very clear
(*) I dont know whats goin down
Youre gonna ruin this poor girl from out of town
I like the way you move so much that
(**) I guess I just lost my head
I know we should really know much better
I guess I just lost my head
I know we dont really know each other
So pardon the things I said
Wont you tell me youll forgive me
I dont mean to intrude
Its just that I dont want to break this mood
(dont want to break this mood here tonight)
And if I hold your hand its just cause
Theres something in the things you say
That wraps me up and really puts me away
But everybody knows
Repeat (*)
Repeat (**)
Repeat (*)
I guess I just lost my head
I know we should really know much better
I guess I just lost my head
(Ive got the feeling inside)
I know we dont really know each other
(and I love you)
So pardon the things I said
(I need your loving tonight)
Wont you tell me youll forgive me
Guess I lost it
Guess I lost it
I guess I just lost my head
(cause youve been making me crazy)
I know we should really know much better
I guess I just lost my head
I know we dont really know each other
So pardon the things I said
Wont you tell me youll forgive me
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!