En.Citatepedia^®.ro

As Old George Said

Said old George Jones: 'All in a hundred years.
'Tis little time enough, and well may make
This youthful country proud among its peers
Of progress wooed and won for progress sake.
A splendid city shining by the sea
And all that count of wealth and worth she owns
Speaks well enough for our first century,'
Said old George Jones.

''Tis with a country much as 'tis with men:
The fevered morn o' life goes all for gain -
For all the things gain signifies; an' then,
We pause to con life's lesson o'er again
And find, if be that wisdom comes with years,
That gettin', gainin', holdin', scarce atones
Nor pays for all man's toil an' sweat and tears,'
Said old George Jones.

'Not with the golden profit won thro' trade,
Not with the tawdry treasure that we wrest
From this scarred earth, nor things men's hands have made
Comes any answer to man's age-long quest.
Not at the gates of such material goals
Nor pedigreed cities builded high with stones
Lies ought to serve or satisfy men's souls,'
Said old George Jones.

Said old George Jones, 'This is an old man's pray'r:
That gainin' shall not ever wholly serve
This land o' mine when I drift otherwhere
To seek what share o' peace I may deserve;
But that the treasure of the one true worth
Shall gleam at last above my whitening bones
For wiser mortals of a wiser earth,'
Said old George Jones.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me & Mrs. Jones

Me and Mrs. Jones, we got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We meet ev'ry day at the same cafe,
Six-thirty I know she'll be there,
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.
Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones,
Mrs. Jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We gotta be extra careful that we don't build our hopes too high
Cause she's got her own obligations and so do I,
Me, me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones,
Mrs. Jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
Well, it's time for us to be leaving,
Iit hurts so much, it hurts so much inside,
Now she'll go her way and I'll go mine,
But tomorrow we'll meet the same place, the same time.
Me and Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones.

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me And Mrs. Jones

Me and mrs. jones, we got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We meet ev'ry day at the same cafe,
Six-thirty i know she'll be there,
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite song.
Me and mrs., mrs. jones, mrs. jones, mrs. jones,
Mrs. jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
We gotta be extra careful that we don't build our hopes too high
Cause she's got her own obligations and so do i,
Me, me and mrs., mrs. jones, mrs. jones, mrs. jones,
Mrs. jones got a thing going on,
We both know that it's wrong,
But it's much too strong to let it cool down now.
Well, it's time for us to be leaving,
Iit hurts so much, it hurts so much inside,
Now she'll go her way and i'll go mine,
But tomorrow we'll meet the same place, the same time.
Me and mrs. jones, mrs. jones, mrs. jones.

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fruit of Earth

The winds that blow about the world
(Said Old George Jones)
See here all hope to ruin hurled,
See there triumphant flags unfurled,
Over chance-favored zones.
And no man's wisdom, no man's might
Foresees, much les controls
Some little breeze born of the night
That brings perchance a sudden blight
Or balm for tortured souls.

But growin' things and sowin' things
And watchin' of 'em grow
Not hastenin' things or slowin' things
Nor seekin' to be knowin' things
That men may never know.
'Tis so the kind earth pays a man
'Tis so content is made.
Not work, but worry slays a man;
I take what tricks Fate plays a man
An' sticks to Adam's trade.

The fears that creep about the earth
Vague fears and short-lived joys
What in reckonin' are they worth?
Too quickly swayed by grief or mirth
We live like foolish boys.
Year in, year out, earth mothers us
And offers livelihood,
This year ill fortune bothers us
Next year her bounty smothers us:
The sum of all is good.

'Tis futile man proposes things;
But Nature goes her ways
And God alone disposes things,
And Time alone discloses things
That rule our future says.
Earth yields me her fertility
And till she takes my bones,
I'll nought of man's futility.
For peace bides in humility
(Said Old George Jones).

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Faith of Old George Jones

War raged around this troubled world,
When I was but a lad,
And into battle men were hurled,
As some ambition mad
Moved kings on their unstable thrones
To bring the world unease.
Mad days, I'll grant (said old George Jones),
But not as mad as these.

They fought for power, fought for gain,
For land and plunder then;
They fought for ends that they made plain
And understood of men.
But in this strangely restless age,
And this world's changing scene,
Men fight and die while nations rage,
For visions half unseen.

They fight for theories untried,
Ideals, untested creeds,
And seek their ends thro' fratricide,
While hate's rank passion breeds.
On this red soil . . . Must I, a man
Unlettered, pierce the mist,
And bind myself so to some strange plan
Fascist or Socialist?

I am a man. It is enough.
I ply a peaceful trade.
What should I know of this queer stuff
Of which their dreams are made?
Small is the wisdom mankind owns,
But, as his knowledge grows,
It seems to me (said old George Jones),
His hard-won wisdom goes.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweetwater Jones

Sweetwater Jones
Went riding
out in to the country night
he left his phone still ringing
ringing by the t.v.'s light
goodbye to you new york city
goodbye to every thing it used to be
you sure can could look good
Emerald City
oh but now your just a drag on me
goodbye to the ringing phone
goodbye to the old grindstone
and what use to be Jimmy Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
Sweetwater Jones
keep on going
hey Jonese boy your'll doing find
smiling a smile and knowing
that your heading fore a better time
look at your face
hey its shinning
hey beaming like it never could
look at your eyes
hey you crying
but you never thought you fell so good
goodbye to the ringing phone
good,good,goodbye to the old grindstone
what used to be Jimmy Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
ohhhhhhhh
ohhhhhhhh Sweetwater Jones
what use to be Jimmy Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones
now they known as Sweetwater Jones

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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George Jones Reflects

It's up an' down, as me father said,
An' his as went before him
Good days could never turn his head
Nor the worst of seasons floor him.
(Said old george Jones). I've heard him say
Full many a time an' often,
'The man who knows no evil day
Ain't toughened so he can out-stay
Good times, in which men soften.'

See-saw. 'Tis the older law
That's ruled the world since Adam.
If men ain't sipped the bitter cup,
How can the good days cheer 'em up?
They never know they had 'em.
So, by-an'-large, I'm sorter glad
I've had a chance to share 'em
These long, lean years we've lately had.
Now good years come we've got the bad
With which we can compare 'em.

I've heard men say the land is done
Because the hard times fool 'em.
Poor simple loons, they ain't begun
To know the laws wot rule 'em.
'Men ain't learned yet to live on air,'
I've hard my ole dad chuckle.
'Stick to the land. All wealth lies where
Earth bids all men to seek it, e'er
When life gets near the knuckle.'

See-saw. 'Tis the olden law;
An' laws help them as learned 'em.
An' us ole stagers wot held fast
To earth, now clear days down at last,
Why, praise the Lord, we've earned 'em.
Hard earned (said old George Jones) most ways
High prized. New loads is lighter,
Us, who held fast can well spare praise,
Aye, even for then strengthenin' days
That makes these good days brighter.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have You Met Miss Jones?

Have you met Miss Jones
Someone said as we shook hands
She was just Miss Jones to me

Then I said Miss Jones
You're a girl who understands
I'm a man who must be free.

And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
And all at once I own the earth and sky

Now I met Miss Jones
And well keep on meeting till we die
Miss Jones and I

And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
And all at once I own the earth and sky

Now I met Miss Jones
And well keep on meeting till we die
Miss Jones and I
Miss Jones and I

Miss Jones and I

song performed by by Robbie Williams from Swing When You're Winning
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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George Jones Wonders

'When I was young,' said old George Jones
(And rumbling from his bearded lips,
His deep voice boomed in measured tones)
Them airyplanes an' motor-ships
Was never knowed in that far day.
The wind-blown craft that roamed the sea,
The stout draught horse, the bullock dray
Was quick enough for me like me.

'We lived and toiled and fared not ill:
Life was a thing to be enjoyed.
We sold out crops and ate our fill,
And heard few tales of unemployed.
But, lately, like some secret flame,
This world beheld a puzzling thing;
Peace, progress, plenty - yet, too came
Want, idleness and suffering.

'I asked a wine man from the town
Why, 'mid these riches, such ills are.
'Bad transport,' said he, with a frown,
And went off in his motor car.
I watched him racing down the road
To where, 'mid modern haste and fret,
This new world's tangled traffic flowed,
And scatched my head, more puzzled yet.

'Men say that times be mending now,
Maybe. But still they don't explain
This thing that worries me, somehow:
The more we get, the less we gain.
The more ships speed, the less they bring;
The more man has, the less he owns.
Why darn me! 'Tis a crazy thing!
It don't make sense,' said old George Jones.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. Jones

Mr. jones
Put a wiggle in your stride
Loosen up
I believe he'll be alright
Changing clothes
Now he's got ventilated slacks
Bouncing off the walls
Mr. jones is back!
Bulge out
And wind your waist
Tight pants
Got curly hair
Drinking cold beer
From metal cans
Moonshine
And handi-wipes!
Mr. jones is back in town
It's his lucky day
Hold up your hands and shout
Jones is on his way
Pitter pat
Mr. jones is back in town
Aces high
Now his pants are falling down
He looks so fine
In those patent leather shoes
Mr. jones, you look tired
I believe you'll be alright
Sales men
Conventioneers
Some rock stars
With tambourines
Short skirts
And skinny legs
Selling bibles
And real estate
It's a big day for mr. jones
He is not so square
Mr. jones will stick around
He's everybody's friend
Fast cars
And motorbikes
I'm sure glad
He's on our side
The jones gang
Down at the bar
Watch out, this time
They've gone too far
They call for mr. jones
They put him in charge
Mr. jones will help us out
He's a lucky guy
It is mr. jones' birthday party
For another year
In his hotel room party favors
It's a holiday

song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Censure Burners Of Books

The official British Government ban
on disgraced radical intolerant pastor
Terry Jones is appropriate justified.
A burn a Koran day campaign is wrong.
How would this ignorant pastor react
if Muslims burned Bibles in retaliation?
Is it not written thou shalt not judge?
Has Jones not heard of love thy neighbour?

Jesus said blessed are the peacemakers.
Burning religious books is not sowing peace.
If your neighbour slaps you turn the other cheek.
Jesus did not say slap your neighbour’s cheek.
Did Jones not learn after book burning Hitler?
Burning books Holy books leads to burning cities.
Be not like fool Jones cast not the first stone.
No true Christian or Muslim chews a hate bone.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Case for Kings

I've never had much truck with kings
(Said old George Jones). For all my days
My lot's been cast 'mid common thngs,
My path has run by humble ways.
Tho' I have live my life in what
Men call 'The shadow of the throne,'
No king disturbed my peace one jot,
And I have left them well alone.

But I have heard men rave and rant
Of great injustice, wrongs and rights
And all that maudlin, modern cant
Of liberty and freedom's fights.
But peacefully I've gone my way
And sought content on this bright earth.
I've harked to all they've had to say,
And summed it up for all it's worth.

But foreign lands have crushed their kings,
And raised new flags of strange design;
Yet all the liberty it brings
Seems, somehow, not one half of mine
In all those lands in this dread hour
Warring ambitions rise supreme;
And, in his crazy lust for pow'r,
Brother slays brother - for a dream.

Some wise man, in some book I read
(Said old George Jones) the seer explains
All human plans must have a head;
And, if it falls, black chaos reigns.
And can one doubt? When, far and wide,
Not freedom's gain, but freedom's loss
Follows the fall, with fratricide
'Mid those who would supplant the Boss.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chemical Love

People goin round
Tellin others they are square
Around and round in circles
Is a ride that goes somewhere
All you need to fly
Is a heart dying to try
A chemical love
Its a chemical love
Aint nothin to it
Gettin cash when you are broke
Doin lots of time
Is worth a little snort of coke
Infected needles
Can aid you in no time
Through chemical love
Youve got a chemical love
Some people crave for physical love
Some people crave material love
Yet fewer crave for spiritual love
Youve got a chemical jones
Youve got a chemical love
Yeah, a chemical love
Youve got chemical love
Some people find themselves hooked on the
Weirdest things
That have nothing to do with living
Gods gift to us is our life whats ours to him
If its not our love, then nothings given, given
Some people crave for physical love
Some people crave material love
Yet fewer crave for spiritual love
Youve got a chemical jones
For a chemical love
Yes its true
The best things in life are free
Not material
Chemical or physically
Try it for yourself
Youll get a guaranteed high
From spiritual love, natural miracle drug
Some people crave for physical love
Some people crave material love
Yet fewer crave for spiritual love
Youve got a chemical jones
Youve got a chemical love
Youve got a chemical love
For a chemical drug
Some people crave for physical love
Some people crave material love
Yet fewer crave for spiritual love
You need a spiritual jones
For that spiritual love
Im talking to you
We all could do with spiritual jones
For some spiritual love

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Creed of Old George Jones

A little of fretting, a little of getting,
A little of slaving and saving, may be;
A little of spending, a little of lending
And giving up living be easy and free:
But a man gathers, and all a man owns
Goes out at the finish (said old George Jones)
Like a spark in the dark, and the sum of his trying,
A name and a memory drifting and dying.

A little of blund'ring, a little of wond'ring,
A little of scheming and dreaming when young;
A little of grieving; a little believing,
In secret, strange things that come slow to the tongue;
For every man is a being apart,
And none may look deep in his fellow-man's heart
Scholars and strangers, chance met in life's college;
But tolerance grows with the sum of our knowledge.

And I, who have tarried o'er long with the living,
Have come to a creed that gives hope of content;
In getting and spending is grief; but in giving
Is all that this riddle of life ever meant.
For life is a riddle; an, tho' I grow old,
Still fit as a fiddle, to one creed I hold:
'Tis getting moves man while to life he is cleaving;
But giving looms large when it comes to his leaving.

A little of sorrow, of plans for tomorrow,
A little of helping the weak and the fool;
A little of laughter, and all that comes after
Is one lesson learned in life's arduous school,
For all a man gathers, and all a man owns
But ends in a heartache (said old George Jones),
Like a spark in the dark comes an end to his living,
And all that live after, the sum of his giving.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Between Pensioners

''Tis precious stuff,' said old George Jones
'When men sore needs a fall;
Tho' how or why it comes, I owns
I ain't got clear at all.
Some sez that in the sun, a spot
Controls it in some way.'
'It's this 'ere wireless, like as not,'
Said old Pete Parraday.

'Wireless,' scoffed grey-haired Joey Park.
'Wot wireless did they use
When ole man Noah sailed the ark?
It's them black cockytoos.
Last week I seen more than a few,
An' then wot did I say '
''Tis wireless - I'm tellin' you!'
Said old Pete Parraday.

'Cockies? Sun-spots?' said Daddy Shore,
'Jist foolish talk an' vain.
It's this 'ere Abbysinian war
An' guns as causes rain.
Ain't it been proved by natcharil laws
Time an' again, the way '
'It's this 'ere wireless is the cause,'
Said old Pete Parraday.

Said old George Jones, 'Ain't you ashamed
To talk the way you do?
It's providence gits mostly blamed
When things is lookin' blue.
Ain't the rain now due? For ain't we got
O'er all this world full sway?'
'Too right. But wireless helps a lot,'
Said old Pete Parraday.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Down-Hill Track

The dawnin' of prosperity
Recalls (said old George Jones)
When I was young, a song we sung,
In none too sober tones,
When easy, breezy days were here,
An' cash was wildly spent.
Small good it done to anyone;
But this is how it went:

'Oh, toil with a will to the summit of the hill.
It's the luggin' an' the tuggin' does the trick,
But be careful of the dropp when you've labored to the top,
An' the fool who makes the pace too quick.
For there's more loads spilled, an' there's more men killed,
Where the road runs to the valley down below;
So, restrain that eager itchin'; sit well back into the britchin'.
Go slow, Sonny-lad, go slow!'

I've lived me life (said old George Jones)
An' learned me lesson well:
The pampered flesh clothes no old bones,
As history's headstones tell
The 'Champagne Charlies' of my day,
The short an' merry run
High livin's tucked more men away
Than hard times ever done.

Oh, dig in yer toes where the up'ard track it goes.
It's the strivin' an' the drivin' does the trick.
But take it steady, son, when yer on the down'ard run;
'Tis the fool who makes the pace too quick.
For the most men trips when the down grade dips,
An' there's more stones a'lurkin' for your toe.
Save yer wind an' spare yer muscle for the next long uphill tussle.
Go slow, Sonny-lad, go slow!

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have You Met Miss Jones?

It happened
I felt it happened
I was awake
I wasnt blind
I didnt think
I felt it happened
Now I belive in matter over mind.
And now you see we mustnt wait
The nearest moment that we marry is too late!
Have you met miss jones
Someone said as we shook hands
She was just miss jones to me
Then I said miss jones
Youre a girl who understand
Im a boy who must be free.
And all at once I lost my breath
And all at once was scared to death
And all at once I hold the eatrh and sky!
Now I met miss jones
And well keep on meeting till we die
Miss jones and i

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I really like Alan Jackson, in Country Music. I think he's really very, very talented along with George Jones, and Merle Haggard, the same old favorites.

quote by Tanya Tucker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mrs Jones

What are you gonna do today Mrs Jones
Are you gonna chase the pain away Mrs Jones
Or leave it sitting there waiting outside your door
Hoping to find the things you hoped would tell you more
About the dreams that seem to slip away

What are you gonna do today Mrs Jones
Are you going to face the bills to pay Mrs Jones
Or leave them sitting there waiting outside your door
Hoping to find the things you hoped would tell you more
About the dreams that seem to slip away

It's not as if Mr Jones could help in anyway
It's not as if Mr Jones the bills that he could pay

(Repeat first verse)

song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from B-Sides: Seasides & Freerides
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ain't Nothin' Like A Jones

I've got a jones in my bones.. woah oh..

I've been thinkin about you baby
I wanna tell you what's on my mind
cause you been hangin around me lately
now I'm reading between the lines

But I've been waitin on you
and you been waitin on me
(so tell me) so can we get together
in real love ecstasy

[Chorus]
Cause it ain't nothin like a Jones in ya bones
ain't nothin real as the feelin I feel
I'm sizing you up
cause I know what I want
you're breakin me down cause I need you near
said it aint nothin like a Jones in ya bones
ain't nothin real as the feelin I feel
I'm sizing you up cause I know what I want
you're breakin me down cause I need you near

I can see that you're ready baby
so wont you tell me what's on your mind
I've had enough of the games we're playing
and I've been feelin to make you mine

But I've been waitin on you
and you been waitin on me
so can we get together in real love ecstasy

Cause it ain't nothin like a jones in ya bones
ain't nothin real as the feelin I feel
I'm sizing you up
cause I know what I want
you're breakin me down cause I need you near
said it ain't nothin like a Jones in ya bones
ain't nothin real as the feelin I feel
I'm sizing you up cause I know what I want
you're breakin me down cause I need you near

It's time I express to you
the joy you bring
when we're together baby
can we be more then friends
I need to know
this waitin is drivin me crazy

do you got it I got a Jones make it hot
do you got it I got a Jones do you got it make it hot

[Chorus fade..]

song performed by by Tyrese from Tyrese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Roads' End

Old Ben, the pensioner, is going down to die.
Huddled in the mail-car, he turns a wistful eye
On this familiar forest scene, the wooded mountain wall;
And nought could lure him from it save the last stern call.
He has loved it with a fierce love no reason comprehends;
The great gums, the green ways, the rough bush friends.
But doctor says his tough old heart at last has let him down;
So he's off to be 'patched up a bit' in hospital in town.

'Patched up a bit'. . . He'd heard that talk when they took Badger Jack,
And Charlie Clem, and Lame Mick. But none of these came back.
Was it Mick went first? Or Charlie? (Lordy, Lord! How men forget.)
And now they're taking Ben away; and Ben not eighty yet.
The youngest, he, of six old hulks; and three have gone away;
Till now there's only George Jones left, and old Pete Parraday -
His oldest friend, Pete Parraday, who has his dog to mind.
The cruellest break of all, that was - leaving his dog behind.

Old Ben, the pensioner, sits huddled in the car;
And his filmed eyes seek the skyline where the timbered ranges are -
This kind, green place of singing bards, of tree and scrubland dense.
He hears their words of forced good cheer and jovial pretence:
Says old George Jones, 'In hospital you'll get real proper care.'
'An' mind,' says Pete, 'no sparkin' with them pretty nurses there.
Why, man, you'll be a two-year-old when you come back agen.'
'You keep your eye on my ole dawg, an' feed 'im good,' pipes Ben.

Then, 'All aboard!' the mailman shouts 'Now, Ben, mind them old bones!'
A hand-clasp from Pete Parraday, a pat from old George Jones,
And Ben, the pensioner, goes off on his last pilgrimage…
'Broke up reel fast,' growls old George Jones, 'considerin' his age.
Hey! Don't let that dawg foller him! Here, Rover, you behave.'
They watch the sick man turn about, and feebly try to wave.
Swiftly the car speeds round the bend; the echoes die away…
'Me next? Or maybe you, George,' says old Pete Parraday.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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