The Murrumbidgee Shearer
Come, all you jolly natives, and I'll relate to you
Some of my observations—adventures, too, a few.
I've travelled about the country for miles, full many a score,
And oft-times would have hungered, but for the cheek I bore.
I've coasted on the Barwon—low down the Darling, too,
I've been on the Murrumbidgee, and out on the Paroo;
I've been on all the diggings, boys, from famous Ballarat;
I've loafed upon the Lachlan and fossicked Lambing Flat.
I went up to a squatter, and asked him for a feed,
But the knowledge of my hunger was swallowed by his greed.
He said I was a loafer and for work had no desire,
And so, to do him justice, I set his shed on fire.
Oh, yes, I've touched the shepherd's hut, of sugar, tea, and flour;
And a tender bit of mutton I always could devour.
I went up to a station, and there I got a job;
Plunged in the store, and hooked it, with a very tidy lob.
Oh, yes, my jolly dandies, I've done it on the cross.
Although I carry bluey now, I've sweated many a horse.
I've helped to ease the escort of many's the ounce of gold;
The traps have often chased me, more times than can be told.
Oh, yes, the traps have chased me, been frightened of their stripes
They never could have caught me, they feared my cure for gripes.
And well they knew I carried it, which they had often seen
A-glistening in my flipper, chaps, a patent pill machine.
I've been hunted like a panther into my mountain lair.
Anxiety and misery my grim companions there.
I've planted in the scrub, my boys, and fed on kangaroo,
And wound up my avocations by ten years on Cockatoo.
So you can understand, my boys, just from this little rhyme,
I'm a Murrumbidgee shearer, and one of the good old time.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Know What Boys Like
Boys, boys
He you wanna know something?
Boys, boys
Boys like girls
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I seem them looking (looking)
I make them want me
I like to tease them
And they want to touch me
I never let them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me
I got my cat moves
That so upsets them
Zippers and buttons
Fun to frustrate them
They get so angry
Like pouty children
Denied their candy
I laugh right at them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I think you're special
I might let you
You're so much different
I might let you
There's no one like you
I might let you
Or would you like that?
I might let you
Sucker!
Boys, b-b-boys
Boys, b-b-b-boys
G-g-g-g-got what boys want
G-g-g-got
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
Yeah, I know what boys like
Come on girls, you know what they like
It ain't no secret
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Shall Rule This American Nation?
Who shall rule this American Nation?
Say, boys, say!
Who shall sit in the loftiest station?
Say, boys, say!
Shall the men who trampled on the banner?
They who now their country would betray?
They who murder the innocent freedmen?
Say, boys, say!
"No, never! no, never!"
The loyal millions say;
And 'tis they who rule this American Nation!
They, boys, they!
Who shall rank as the family royal?
Say, boys, say!
If not those who are honest and loyal?
Say, boys, say!
Then shall one elected as our servant,
In his pride, assume a regal sway?
Must we bend to a human Dictator?
Say, boys, say!
Shall we tarnish our national glory?
Say, boys, say!
Blot one line from the wonderful story?
Say, boys, say!
Did we vainly shed our blood in battle?
Did our troops resultless win the day?
Was our time and our treasure all squander'd?
Say, boys, say!
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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About a horse
from the village older boys
chased and caught a horse
an old horse and tied it to a tree
put oil on its hooves and lit it
away went that old horse
busting through fences and gates
trying to escape the fire
but the fire went with it
poem by Marton Dezso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boys Boys
These days
I'm so lost
In this fog
This isn’t my last
Time
Of being caught up
This isn’t my last
Time
Fighting for love
I’m so lost
In this fog
Of boys
Boys boys
There my pain
Boys boys
There my smiles
Boys boys
There my guards
Boys boys
There my fog
It’s the boys
That keeps me in this haze
It’s the boys
That causes all our pain
There here
And their there
There everywhere
There everywhere
It’s the boys
That we can blame
Why do boys
Have to hurt us
The way they do
Why do they
Have to all attack
At once
Its they army of boys
The army of toys
There our
Boy toys
Boy toys
Army boys
Boys boys
There my pain
Boys boys
There my smiles
Boys boys
There my guards
Boys boys
There my fog
It’s the boys
That keeps me in this haze
It’s the boys
That causes all our pain
There here
And their there
There everywhere
There everywhere
It’s the boys
That we can blame
These days
I’ve been so lost
It’s always a maze
And so much it coast
To get out of it
Then you’re right back in
Again
I’m caught up
I’m caught up
In this
Fight for love
I’m lost
In this maze
This maze
And fog
Of boys
I’m chocked up
I’m caught up
Oh what do I do
What do I do
To get out
Boys boys
There my pain
Boys boys
There my smiles
Boys boys
There my guards
Boys boys
There my fog
It’s the boys
That keeps me in this haze
It’s the boys
That causes all our pain
There here
And their there
There everywhere
There everywhere
It’s the boys
That we can blame
poem by Tessa Monaghan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tambaroora Jim
He never drew a sword to fight a dozen foes alone,
Nor gave a life to save a life no better than his own.
He lived because he had been born—the hero of my song—
And fought the battle with his fist whene’er he fought a wrong.
Yet there are many men who would do anything for him—
A simple chap as went by name of ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
He used to keep a shanty in the ‘Come-and-find-it Scrub,’
And there were few but knew the name of Tambaroora’s pub.
He wasn’t great in lambing down, as many landlords are,
And never was a man less fit to stand behind a bar—
Off-hand, as most bush natives are, and freckled, tall, and slim,
A careless native of the land was ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
When people said that loafers took the profit from his pub,
He’d ask them how they thought a chap could do without his grub;
He’d say, ‘I’ve gone for days myself without a bite or sup—
‘Oh! I’ve been through the mill and know what ’tis to be hard-up.’
He might have made his fortune, but he wasn’t in the swim,
For no one had a softer heart than ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
One dismal day I tramped across the Come-and-find-it Flats,
With ‘Ballarat Adolphus’ and a mate of ‘Ballarat’s’;
’Twas nearly night and raining fast, and all our things were damp,
We’d no tobacco, and our legs were aching with the cramp;
We couldn’t raise a cent, and so our lamp of hope was dim;
And thus we struck the shanty kept by ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
We dropped our swags beneath a tree, and squatted in despair,
But Jim came out to watch the rain, and saw us sitting there;
He came and muttered, ‘I suppose you haven’t half -a-crown,
‘But come and get some tucker, and a drink to wash it down.’
And so we took our blueys up and went along with him,
And then we knew why bushmen swore by ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
We sat beside his kitchen fire and nursed our tired knees,
And blessed him when we heard the rain go rushing through the trees.
He made us stay, although he knew we couldn’t raise a bob,
And tuckered us until we made some money on a job.
And many times since then we’ve filled our glasses to the brim,
And drunk in many pubs the health of ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
A man need never want a meal while Jim had ‘junk’ to carve,
For ‘Tambaroora’ always said a fellow couldn’t starve.
And this went on until he got a bailiff in his pub,
Through helping chaps as couldn’t raise the money for their grub.
And so, one rainy evening, as the distant range grew dim,
He humped his bluey from the Flats—did ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
I miss the fun in Jim’s old bar—the laughter and the noise,
The jolly hours I used to spend on pay-nights with the boys.
But that’s all past, and vain regrets are useless, I’ll allow;
They say the Come-and-find-it Flats are all deserted now.
Poor ‘Tambaroora’s’ dead, perhaps, but that’s all right with him,
Saint Peter cottons on to chaps like ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
I trust that he and I may meet where starry fields are grand,
And liquor up together in the pubs in spirit-land.
But if you chance to drop on Jim while in the West, my lad,
You won’t forget to tell him that I want to see him bad.
I want to shake his hand again—I want to shout for him—
I want to have a glass or two with ‘Tambaroora Jim.’
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wild Boys
Wild boys, wild boys, wild boys
Wild boys
Wild! (wild)
Boys! (boys)
The wild boys are calling on their way back from the fire
In august moons surrender to a dust cloud on the rise
Wild boys fallen far from glory, reckless and so hungered
On the razors edge you trail because theres murder (murder)
By the roadside in a sore afraid new world
They tried to break us, looks like theyll try again
Wild boys.. never lose it
Wild boys.. never chose this way
Wild boys.. never close your eyes
Wild boys.. always shine
You got sirens for a welcome, theres bloodstain for your pain
And your telephone been ringing while youre dancing in the rain
Wild boys wonder where is glory where is all you angels
Now the figureheads have fell?
And lovers war with arrows over secrets they could tell
They tried to tame you, looks like theyll try again
(chorus)
-
(chorus) (chorus) (chorus)
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Recruit's Ball
Fiddler loquitur
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddlestick, fiddlestick,
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddle for a king!
Heigh, pretty Kitty! heigh, jolly Polly!
Up with the heels, girls! fling, lasses, fling!
Heigh there! stay there! that's not the way there!
Oh Johnny, Johnny,
Oh Johnny, Johnny,
Ho, ho, everybody all round the ring!
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddlestick, fiddlestick,
Heigho, fiddlestick, fiddle for a king!
Heigh, pretty Kitty! heigh, jolly Polly!
Up with the heels, girls! swing, girls, swing!
Foot, boys! foot, boys! to 't, boys! do 't, boys!
Ho, Bill! ho, Jill! ho, Will! ho, Phil!
Ho, Johnny, Johnny,
Ho, Johnny, Johnny,
Ho, ho, everybody, all round the ring!
Deuce take the fiddle,
Deuce take the fiddle,
Deuce take the jolly fiddle, deuce take the fiddler!
Here goes the fiddle,
Here goes the fiddle,
Here goes the jolly fiddle, here goes the fiddler!
Ned, boy! your head, boy!
She'll strike you dead, boy!
There she goes at your nose!
Deuce strike you dead, boy!
Call, boys! bawl, boys!
Deuce take us all, boys!
Here we go, yes or no,
Deuce take us all, boys!
Deuce take the wall, boys,
Deuce take the floor, boys,
Deuce take the jolly floor,
Deuce take us all, boys!
There goes the wall, boys!
There goes the door, boys!
Round they swing in a ring!
There goes the floor, boys!
Lad, wench, roof, floor,
Wench, lad, wall, door!
Curse the ground, spin it round!
Deuce take us all, boys!
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Greenland Whale Fisheries
[the pogues version]
------------------------------------------
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
And of march the eighteenth day,
We hoisted our colors to the top of the mast
And for greenland sailed away, brave boys,
And for greenland sailed away.
The lookout in the crosstrees stood
With spyglass in his hand;
Theres a whale, theres a whale,
And a whalefish he cried
And she blows at every span, brave boys
She blows at every span.
The captain stood on the quarter deck,
The ice was in his eye;
Overhaul, overhaul! let your gibsheets fall,
And youll put your boats to sea, brave boys
And youll put your boats to sea.
Our harpoon struck and the line played out,
With a single flourish of his tail,
He capsized the boat and we lost five men,
And we did not catch the whale, brave boys,
And we did not catch the whale.
The losing of those five jolly men,
It grieved the captain sore,
But the losing of that fine whalefish
Now it grieved him ten times more, brave boys
Now it grieved him ten times more.
Oh greenland is a barren land
A land that bares no green
Where theres ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow
And the daylights seldom seen, brave boys
And the daylights seldom seen.
[greenland fisheries]
------------------------------------------------
twas in eighteen hundred and fifty-three
And of june the thirteenth day,
That our gallant ship her anchor weighed,
And for greenland bore away, brave boys,
And for greenland bore away.
The lookout in the crosstrees stood
With spyglass in his hand;
Theres a whale, theres a whale,
Theres whalefish he cried
And she blows at every span, brave boys
She blows at every span.
The captain stood on the quarter deck,
And a fine little man was he;
Overhaul, overhaul! let your davit tackles fall,
And launch your boats for sea, brave boys
And launch your boats for sea.
Now the boats were launched and the men aboard,
And the whale was full in view.
Resolved was each seaman bold
To steer where the whalefish blew, brave boys
To steer where the whalefish blew.
We stuck the whale the line paid out,
But she gave a flourish with her tail,
The boat capsized and four men were drowned,
And we never caught that whale, brave boys,
And we never caught that whale.
To lose the whale, our captain said,
It grieves my heart full sore,
But oh! to lose (those) four gallant men
It grieves me ten times more, brave boys
It grieves me ten times more.
The winter star doth now appear,
So, boys well anchor weight;
Its time to leave this cold country
And homeward bear away, brave boys
And homeward bear away.
Oh greenland is a dreadful place
A land thats never green
Where theres ice and snow, and the whalefishes blow
And the daylights seldom seen brave boys
But the daylights seldom seen.
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bushman's Song
I’M travellin’ down the Castlereagh, and I’m a station hand,
I’m handy with the ropin’ pole, I’m handy with the brand,
And I can ride a rowdy colt, or swing the axe all day,
But there’s no demand for a station-hand along the Castlereagh. +
So it’s shift, boys, shift, for there isn’t the slightest doubt
That we’ve got to make a shift to the stations further out,
With the pack-horse runnin’ after, for he follows like a dog,
We must strike across the country at the old jig-jog.
This old black horse I’m riding—if you’ll notice what’s his brand,
He wears the crooked R, you see—none better in the land.
He takes a lot of beatin’, and the other day we tried,
For a bit of a joke, with a racing bloke, for twenty pounds a side.
It was shift, boys, shift, for there wasn’t the slightest doubt
That I had to make him shift, for the money was nearly out;
But he cantered home a winner, with the other one at the flog—
He’s a red-hot sort to pick up with his old jig-jog.
I asked a cove for shearin’ once along the Marthaguy:
“We shear non-union here,” says he. “I call it scab,” says I.
I looked along the shearin’ floor before I turned to go—
There were eight or ten dashed Chinamen a-shearin’ in a row.
It was shift, boys, shift, for there wasn’t the slightest doubt
It was time to make a shift with the leprosy about.
So I saddled up my horses, and I whistled to my dog,
And I left his scabby station at the old jig-jog.
I went to Illawarra, where my brother’s got a farm,
He has to ask his landlord’s leave before he lifts his arm;
The landlord owns the country side—man, woman, dog, and cat,
They haven’t the cheek to dare to speak without they touch their hat.
It was shift, boys, shift, for there wasn’t the slightest doubt
Their little landlord god and I would soon have fallen out;
Was I to touch my hat to him?—was I his bloomin’ dog?
So I makes for up the country at the old jig-jog.
But it’s time that I was movin’, I’ve a mighty way to go
Till I drink artesian water from a thousand feet below;
Till I meet the overlanders with the cattle comin’ down,
And I’ll work a while till I make a pile, then have a spree in town.
So, it’s shift, boys, shift, for there isn’t the slightest doubt
We’ve got to make a shift to the stations further out;
The pack-horse runs behind us, for he follows like a dog,
And we cross a lot of country at the old jig-jog.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mountain Station
I bought a run a while ago,
On country rough and ridgy,
Where wallaroos and wombats grow --
The Upper Murrumbidgee.
The grass is rather scant, it's true,
But this a fair exchange is,
The sheep can see a lovely view
By climbing up the ranges.
And She-oak Flat's the station's name,
I'm not surprised at that, sirs:
The oaks were there before I came,
And I supplied the flat, sirs.
A man would wonder how it's done,
The stock so soon decreases --
They sometimes tumble off the run
And break themselves to pieces.
I've tried to make expenses meet,
But wasted all my labours,
The sheep the dingoes didn't eat
Were stolen by the neighbours.
They stole my pears -- my native pears --
Those thrice-convicted felons,
And ravished from me unawares
My crop of paddy-melons.
And sometimes under sunny skies,
Without an explanation,
The Murrumbidgee used to rise
And overflow the station.
But this was caused (as now I know)
When summer sunshine glowing
Had melted all Kiandra's snow
And set the river going.
And in the news, perhaps you read:
`Stock passings. Puckawidgee,
Fat cattle: Seven hundred head
Swept down the Murrumbidgee;
Their destination's quite obscure,
But, somehow, there's a notion,
Unless the river falls, they're sure
To reach the Southern Ocean.'
So after that I'll give it best;
No more with Fate I'll battle.
I'll let the river take the rest,
For those were all my cattle.
And with one comprehensive curse
I close my brief narration,
And advertise it in my verse --
`For Sale! A Mountain Station.'
A.B. (Banjo) Paterson
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Mates
I came up to-night to the station, the tramp had been longish and cold,
My swag ain't too heavy to carry, but then I begin to get old.
I came through this way to the diggings -- how long will that be ago now?
Thirty years! how the country has altered, and miles of it under the plough,
And Jack was my mate on the journey -- we both run away from the sea;
He's got on in the world and I haven't, and now he looks sideways on me.
We were mates, and that didn't mean jokers who meets for a year or a day,
We meant to go jogging together the whole of the blooming long way.
We slept with one blanket between us the night that we run from the port,
There was nothing above us but heaven, yet we took it as jolly good sport.
And now he's the boss of a station, and I'm -- well, the bloke that you see;
For he had the luck and I hadn't, and now he looks sideways on me.
We pegged out a claim on the Dunstan, there used to be gold in them days,
There's blokes that still sticks to the digging, but Lord only knows how it pays;
For the country as far as I've seen it's as chock full of holes as a sieve
With the Chinkies amullocking through it, and yet them coves manage to live.
But when Jack took me to the cradle, the place was a wonder to see,
We washed out a fortune between us, and now he looks sideways on me.
We both fell in love with one woman -- she worked in a pub for a spell;
It ain't the best place for an angel, but angels ain't better than Nell;
For she was as good as they make 'em and hadn't a notion of ill --
It's long years and years since we parted, and seems I'm in love with her still!
But Jack was the handsomest fellow -- I saw how the thing had to be;
He got the best wife on the diggings, and now he looks sideways on me.
I left him, I just couldn't stand it -- I knew it was better to part;
I couldn't look on at the wedding with a pain like a knife at my heart!
I never said nothing to no one -- we didn't whack out all the gold;
I wanted my mate to be happy without my own yarn being told.
So I went to the coast by the steamer, and now I'm the bloke that you see;
He told me to go to the wharè, it seems he looks sideways on me.
There's steps coming down to the wharè -- some other poor bloke on the road;
'Taint nothing to him to get growled at, the boss ain't a bloke that he knowed.
Too dark to make out who's a-coming -- he's crossing the plank at the creek;
The years and the whisky are telling, my eyesight begins to get weak.
What's the odds? it ain't like me to whimper, and all that's gone by had to be,
But the old times came crowding around me to see him look sideways on me.
What, Jack! Why, old man, you don't mean it? You didn't right know it was me?
Well I'm altered -- it ain't for the better -- never mind, never mind, let it be.
O mate, the long years since we parted -- there's a blooming great lump in my throat --
I ain't been as glad, mate, I tell you, since the time that we run from the boat.
You ain't a bit altered -- you're crying -- why, Jack, don't be sorry for me,
I'm that glad that I think I'll go cranky -- and I thought you looked sideways on me.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Few Ole Country Boys
Not too many years ago
When dreams were coming true
I'd reach for inspiration
Sometimes it would be you
I'd hear you on the radio
I sure did like your sound
Say it's good to know there's still
A few ol' country boys around
From the smoke it's hard to tell
What's coming down the line
We heard you were a fast train
Coming out of Caroline
We wondered what you were haulin'
When you rolled into to town
Say it's good to know there's still
A few ol' country boys around
You must have felt that same old feeling
More than once or twice
Guitars pressed against our hearts
Under the neon lights
I've got to say that feeling is the best that I have found
Lord it's good to know there's still
A few ol' country boys around
There's a lot of truth you know
In our kind of songs
About the life you're living
And how love's done you wrong
As long as there's a jukebox
And a honky tonk in town
It's good to know there's still
A few ol' country boys around
It's good to know there's still
A few ol' country boys around
song performed by by Randy Travis, translated by George Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancing With The Big Boys
Somethings going on in society
(dancing with the big boys)
You chew your fingers and stare at the floor
(dancing with the big boys)
One wrong word and youre out of sync
Talking bout a hands on policy
(big boys)
Death to the trees
(dancing with the big boys)
They werent bad, they werent brave
Nothing is embarrassing
(dancing with the big boys)
There are too many people, too much belief
(dancing with the big boys)
Where theres trouble theres poetry
(dancing with the big boys)
Your family is a football team
(big boys)
This dot marks your location
(dancing with the big boys)
Loneliness in a free society
(dancing with the big boys)
(big boys)
This can be embarrassing
(big boys)
Dancing with the big boys
(dancing with the big boys)
(big boys)
(big boys)
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tommy's Dead
YOU may give over plough, boys,
You may take the gear to the stead,
All the sweat o' your brow, boys,
Will never get beer and bread.
The seed's waste, I know, boys,
There's not a blade will grow, boys,
'Tis cropped out, I trow, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
Send the colt to fair, boys,
He's going blind, as I said,
My old eyes can't bear, boys,
To see him in the shed;
The cow's dry and spare, boys,
She's neither here nor there, boys,
I doubt she's badly bread;
Stop the mill to-morn, boys,
There'll be no more corn, boys,
Neither white nor red;
There's no sign of grass, boys,
You may sell the goat and the ass, boys,
The land's not what it was, boys,
And the beasts must be fed:
You may turn Peg away, boys,
You may pay off old Ned,
We've had a dull day, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
Move my chair on the floor, boys,
Let me turn my head:
She's standing there in the door, boys,
Your sister Winifred!
Take her away from me, boys,
Your sister Winifred!
Move me round in my place, boys,
Let me turn my head,
Take her away from me, boys,
As she lay on here death-bed,
The bones of her thin face, boys,
As she lay on her death-bed!
I don't know how it be, boys,
When all's done and said,
But I see her looking at me, boys,
Whenever I turn my head;
Out of the big oak tree, boys,
Out of the garden-bed,
And the lily as pale as she, boys,
And the rose that used to be red.
There's something not right, boys,
But I think it's not in my head,
I've kept my precious sight, boys, --
The Lord be hallowéd!
Outside and in
The ground is cold to my tread,
The hills are wizen and thin,
The sky is shrivelled and shred,
The hedges down by the loan
I can count them bone by bone,
The leaves are open and spread,
But I see the teeth of the land,
And hands like a dead man's hand,
And the eyes of a dead man's head.
There's nothing but cinders and sand,
The rat and the mouse have fed,
And the summer's empty and cold;
Over valley and wold
Wherever I turn my head
There's a mildew and a mould,
The sun's going out overhead,
And I'm very old,
And Tommy's dead.
What am I staying for, boys,
You're all born and bred,
'Tis fifty years and more, boys,
Since wife and I were wed,
And she'd gone before, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
She was always sweet, boys,
Upon his curly head,
She knew she'd never see't, boys,
And she stole off to bed;
I've been siting up alone, boys,
For he'd come home, he said,
But it's time I was gone boys,
For Tommy's dead.
Put the shutters up, boys,
Bring out the beer and bread,
Make haste and sup, boys,
For my eyes are heavy as lead:
There's something wrong i' the cup, boys,
There's something ill wi' the bread,
I don't care to sup, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
I'm not right, I doubt, boys,
I've such a sleepy head,
I shall nevermore be stout, boys,
You may carry me to bed.
What are you about, boys?
The prayers are all said,
The fire's raked out, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
The stairs are too steep, boys,
You may carry me to the head,
The night's dark and deep, boys,
Your mother's long in bed,
'Tis time to go to sleep, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
I'm not used to a kiss, boys,
You may shake my hand instead.
All things go amiss, boys,
You may lay me where she is, boys,
And I'll rest my old head:
'Tis a poor world, this, boys,
And Tommy's dead.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancing With The Big Boys
Bowie/pop
Somethings going on in society
(dancing with the big boys)
You chew your fingers and stare at the floor
(dancing with the big boys)
One wrong word and youre out of sync
Talking bout a hands on policy
(big boys)
Death to the trees
(dancing with the big boys)
They werent bad, they werent brave
Nothing is embarrassing
(dancing with the big boys)
There are too many people, too much belief
(dancing with the big boys)
Where theres trouble theres poetry
(dancing with the big boys)
Your family is a football team
(big boys)
This dot marks your location
(dancing with the big boys)
Loneliness in a free society
(dancing with the big boys)
(big boys)
This can be embarrassing
(big boys)
(dancing with the big boys)
(big boys)
(big boys)
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boys Are Back In Town
Guess who just got back today
Them wildout boys, that'd been away
Haven't changed, had much to say
But man I still think them cats are great
They were asking if you were around
How you was, where you could be found
Told them you were living downtown
Driving all the old men crazy
The Boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I Said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
You know that chic who used to dance a lot?
Every night she'd be on the floor, shaken what she got
Man when I tell you she was cool she was red hot
I mean she was steamin'
And that time over at Johnny's place
When this chic got up and slapped Johnny's face
Man we just fell about the place
What that chic don't wanna know forget 'er
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
Spread the word around
Guess who's back in town
You spread the word around
Friday night they'll be dressed to kill
Down at Dino's bar and grill
The drinks will flow and blood would spill
If the boys wanna fight you better let 'em
That kid rocks down at the corner blasting out my favourite song
The nights are getting warmer and won't be long
Wont be long till the summer comes
Now that the boys are here again
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
(Spread the word around)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(The boys are back, the boys are back)
The boys are back in town again
They're hanging out at Dino's
The boys are back in town again
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boys Keep Swinging
1.2.3.4
Heaven loves ya
The clouds part for ya
Nothing stands in your way
When youre a boy
Clothes always fit ya
Life is a pop of the cherry
When youre a boy
When youre a boy
You can wear a uniform
When youre a boy
Other boys check you out
You get a girl
These are your favourite things
When youre a boy
Boys
Boys
Boys keep swinging
Boys always work it out
Uncage the colours
Unfurl the flag
Luck just kissed you hello
When youre a boy
Theyll never clone ya
Youre always first on the line
When youre a boy
When youre a boy
You can buy a home of your own
When youre a boy
Learn to drive and everything
Youll get your share
When youre a boy
Boys
Boys
Boys keep swinging
Boys always work it out
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Locked The Boys Out?
Once I saw some boys
Outside a gate
They had come to school
But they were very late
Everywhere was closed
All about
It caused me to wonder
Who locked the boys out?
I saw a group
On the outside
It was graduation day
But they had come to play
The girls were inside ready to go
But for the boys it was not so
They were outside walking all about
I asked who locked the boys out?
I observed some boys
Wasting their lives away
For them
Life was only about play
In school they refused to learn
Diminishing their ability to earn
Their decisions caused them to loose their clout
Tell me, tell me who looked the boys out?
I noticed a gang
At the corner of a street
They had gathered together
There to meet
Only profanity
Came out of their mouth
I asked the question
Who locked the boys out?
I found some lads
In a prison cell
Who confided in me
That they were living in 'hell'
They longed to be flourishing and free
Instead they were chained in misery
Staked out in a desert's deadly drought
Will somebody please tell me who locked the boys out?
Too many boys all around the world
Are on the outside looking in
Reaping the harvest
Of their fathers sin
Some are tying to get in
But their chances seem so slim
So I ask with a serious, solemn shout
Who locked the boys out?
poem by Howard Simon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cinema
You can have girls and girls
You can have boys and boys
You can have sex and violence
You can have space age toys
You can have anything that you think will fit
As long as its box office, as long as its a hit
Cinema, cinema
You can have birdmen and snowmen
You can have women in red
Hero taxi drivers talk about evil dead
Black hats and white hats you know what I mean
A flashdance welder and jesus in jeans
Cinema, cinema
Norma jean has gone with the wind
And well never, never see her no more
Jimmy dean you drove that machine
Chased a dream, chased a dream
Weve been up the junction, down the yellow brick road
Weve got beauty with beast
And a prince with a toad
Weve got future adventures
You believe man can fly
Put on your 3-d glasses
Get a shark in the eye
(mccafferty, sweet, charlton, ngnew)
Publishing copyright:m.a.c.s. music
Copyright 1986 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd., dunfermline
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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100 Holes Of Traps
I am walking as if in the air!
Because of traps set down before me;
And i have to watch every step that i take.
Life is not easy at times,
But it needs somebody with a strong heart and a dream to carry on!
Because kindness can be very deceitful and beauty can be vain at times.
100 holes of traps set down before me,
But my mind is still stronger than the woods! !
For i do have my faith and dreams to carry on;
And my steps are now being taken with care.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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