Green Walls
I love all gum-trees well. But, best of all,
I love the tough old warriors that tower
About these lawns, to make a great green wall
And guard, like sentries, this exotic bower
Of shrub and fern and flower.
These are my land's own sons, lean, straight and tall,
Where crimson parrots and grey gang-gangs call
Thro' many a sunlit hour.
My friends, these grave old veterans, scarred and stem,
Changeless throughout the changing seasons they.
But at their knees their tall sons lift and yearn -
Slim spars and saplings - prone to sport and sway
Like carefree boys at play;
Waxing in beauty when their young locks turn
To crimson, and, like beaconfires burn
To deck Spring's holiday.
I think of Anzacs when the dusk comes down
Upon the gums - of Anzacs tough and tall.
Guarding this gateway, Diggers strong and brown.
And when, thro' Winter's thunderings, sounds their call,
Like Anzacs, too, they fall…
Their ranks grow thin upon the hill's high crown:
My sentinels! But, where those ramparts frown,
Their stout sons mend the wall.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Empire State Human
Since I was very young I realised
I never wanted to be human size
So I avoid the crowds and traffic jams
They just remind me of how small I am
Because of this longing in my heart
Im going to start the growing up
Im going to grow now and never stop
Think like a mountain, grow to the top
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
With concentration
My size increased
And now Im fourteen stories high
At least!!
Empire state human
Just a bored kid
Ill go to egypt to be
A pyramid
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ingavar
O, the trees grow straight and the trees grow tall,
And the trees grow all around;
And the long limbs sprout the trunks about,
Where the Davlo owl is found.
And the Davlo bird is most absurd
In the early days of June;
For he sings this song the whole day long,
To a strange, fantastic tune.
'O, ink, ink, ink! I sit and think;
I brood on the Wildwood Tree;
But, near or far, on Ingavar,
No ink, no ink I see.
And late or soon the swift cartoon
Must soar to the Utmost Star.
O, ink, ink, ink! I swoon! I sink!
O, inkless, Ingavar!'
O, the trees grow long, and the trees grow strong,
And the tress grow good and green,
And the gloomy shades steal thro' the glades
Where the Halgi Tit is seen.
And the Halgi Tit he loves to sit
On the frond of a swaying fern,
And croon, and croon, to a low, loose tune
This nervous, nude Nocturn.
'Chow-white, chow-white! All night, all night,
While the moon peeps thro' the leaves,
And the sad wind soughs thro' inlaced boughs,
Where the shadows creep like thieves.
I cry, and yearn for the Nude Nocturn!
O, I seek her near and far!
Chow-white, chow-white! I croon all night,
Thro' the glades of Ingavar.'
O, the trees grow pale, and tall trees quail,
And the sacred trees whisper soft.
And the startled bush it murmurs 'Hush!'
When the Denawk swoops aloft.
And, as he swoops, he shrieks and whoops
In a ruthless, Rhythmic way;
For twixt the trees and the sobbing breeze
The Denawk seeks his prey.
'Ho, rhyme, rhyme, rhyme! All fat and prime!
I live by rhyme alone!
In bush and town I hunt it down,
And tear it flesh from bone.
With a purpose grim for the synonym
I forage near and far;
And I rend my prey in a rhythmic way
On the gums of Ingavar.'
O, yearning trees! O, burning trees
O, trees that bend and sway!
The good brown earth that gave you birth
Is very damp to-day.
In mire and mud we slid we've slud;
Our boots are filled with slime
Farewell ye gums till summer comes
Farewell till Summertime.
The Davlo hoots, the Halgi toots,
The Denawk swoops no more
Alone to yearn, the Nude Nocturn
Adorns your leafy floor.
But Trees, O, trees, what ecstacies
Thrill thro' you, root and spar,
When the Lord High Pot comes up to squat
In the Glades of Ingavar,
Afar,
Green glades of Ingavar.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Gray Fog Covers The Great Gums
When the gray fog covers the great gums and the pied currawongs they do call
You know heavy rain is approaching to Kalorama in late Fall
Across the high woodlands of Yarra Ranges the cool winds of early May blow
The mountain ash have seen many Seasons and with each Season taller they grow
The people who live near the high woods feel proud of their place of tall trees
The laughter of the kookaburras the mountain ash soughing in the breeze
When the gray fog covers the great gums you know that the Winter is near
The mountain air is a bit chilly in the Yarra Ranges in the Fall of the year,
The white cockatoos they are squawking their grating calls not a pleasant sound
Though quite pretty birds for to look at in the high woods their numbers abound
The king parrots and crimson rosellas quite beautiful birds to behold
In tree cavities they are born and 'tis said they live to be old
And the pied currawongs the big dark birds in the fog hidden woodland do call
And the rain clouds beginning to drizzle in Kalorama in the late Fall.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song of the Republic
Sons of the South, awake! arise!
Sons of the South, and do.
Banish from under your bonny skies
Those old-world errors and wrongs and lies.
Making a hell in a Paradise
That belongs to your sons and you.
Sons of the South, make choice between
(Sons of the South, choose true),
The Land of Morn and the Land of E'en,
The Old Dead Tree and the Young Tree Green,
The Land that belongs to the lord and the Queen,
And the Land that belongs to you.
Sons of the South, your time will come –
Sons of the South, 'tis near –
The "Signs of the Times", in their language dumb,
Fortell it, and ominous whispers hum
Like sullen sounds of a distant drum,
In the ominous atmosphere.
Sons of the South, aroused at last!
Sons of the South are few!
But your ranks grow longer and deeper fast,
And ye shall swell to an army vast,
And free from the wrongs of the North and Past
The land that belongs to you.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Flower
Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.
To and fro they went
Thro' my garden bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.
Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.
Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried,
"Splendid is the flower!"
Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.
And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Twenty-Fifth Of April
THIS day is Anzac Day!
Made sacred by the memory
Of those who fought and died, and fought and live,
And gave the best that men may give
For love of Land. It dawns once more,
And, though on alien sea and shore
The guns are silent all,
Yet we with pride recall
The deeds which gave it immortality.
Great deeds are deathless things!
The doer dies, but not the deed,
And, when upon that fateful April day
Our Anzacs, throwing all but love away,
Gave life and limb for Honour's sake,
With Freedom tremblingly at stake,
They lit a beacon-light
Imperishable, bright,
That evermore the Nation's soul shall heed.
Not Peace, not Peace alone
Can make a nation great and good
And bring it that full stature, strength, and grace
That fit it for an age-enduring place
In men's regard. Through storm and strife
It runs to sweet and noble life;
For through its veins there runs
The valour of great sons
Who died to give it stately nationhood.
This day is Anzac Day!
Made sacred by the thrilling thought
Of those who proved their souls, it reappears;
And thus 'twill dawn, and dawn through future years
Till Time our petty deeds efface,
And others, dwelling in our place,
Tell o'er, with tongue and pen,
The glorious tale again
Of how on beach and crag the Anzacs fought.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Forest Garden: A Promise of Spring
Spring surely must be near. High over head
The kind blue heavens bend to timbers tall;
And here, this morning, is the picture spread
That I have learned to love the best of all.
I hear Flame Robin call
His early love-song. Winter's might is sped;
And young crows now begin to fleck with red
This great green, living wall.
Picture of promise, that I count the best
Of many a fair familiar Bushland scene;
Lifting o'er all, the far mount's sunlit crest
Looks down where silver wattles lightly screen
Blue smoke, that peeps between
Their tall tops, from some settler's hidden nest
Looks down on golden wattles closely pressed
To blackwood's luscious green.
Before the dovecote, mirrored in the pond,
A veil diaphanous of drifting mist
Makes many a nimbus for grey gums beyond
Whose gaunt, grey limbs a mountain sun has kissed
To palest amethyst.
Now, stepping very daintily, with fond,
Soft cooings, fantails on the lawn respond,
To Spring, the amorist.
From the deep forest, on the clean crisp air,
The bushman's axe-blows echo sharply clear;
A soft cloud's tattered fleece drifts idly where
Glows azure hope. Impatient to appear
Springs now full many a spear
Of marching daffodils. Shorn of cold care,
The joyous bush birds vie with flutings rare.
Spring surely must be near.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swingin' Douglas
There's a breeze about the mountains, it is singin' in the trees
A song to mock the little men who chose to live at ease,
Or play at toil or pleasure where their fellows crowd and push;
But put my good axe in my hand and leave me in the bush
And it's: Hey, boy!
Hi, boy!
Heave it in the wood!
Oh, the green bush is around us, and the smell of it is good,
The great bush is before us, and a giant's task to do,
And hearty men and hefty men alone may see it thro'.
So it's: Ho, boys!
Hey, boys!
Swing it with a will!
For the saws are howlin' hungry for logs down at the mill.
The hope for man is honest work, an' out-o'doors his place,
The good brown earth beneath him an' the clean breeze in his face;
The work for man is with his hands, his muscles strong as steel,
When health an' strength within him make him feel as he should feel.
Oh it's: Hey, boys
Shake her up!
Twenty logs to get!
The tail-rope's fouled a saplin' an' the boss is in a sweat.
He's swearin' like a trooper, for they're falling grubby wood;
The boy has broke the whistle-string, which isn't for his good.
But it's: Hey, boys!
Slog along!
Watch her when she goes!
An' ringin' down the gully runs the echo of the blows.
High above us, on the hill-top, where the tall trees rake the sky,
The cockatoos are craaking and the crimson parrots cry.
From below us, where the sawdust by the mill is gleamin' brown,
Comes the dronin' of the twin-saws while the boys are breakin' down.
An' it's: Ho, boys!
Let her go!
Watch her, how she sways!
An' the loggin' truck goes lurchin' down the crazy wooden ways,
With the driver at the brake-rope - Oh, that truckie has a nerve!
An' he howls a merry 'Hoop-la!' as she swings around a curve.
Then it's: Hey, boys!
Plug ahead!
Feed the greedy mill!
We have fed her logs in dozens, but she's shriekin' for 'em still.
When you test the strength that's in you, oh, it's good to be alive
In the green bush, the clean bush, an' with your fellows strive...
There's Simon, of the sniggin' gang, in trouble with his log.
An' he slews her with a cant-hook as she wallows in a bog.
But it's: Hey, boys!
Steady, boys!
Haul away the slack!
An' the shackled giant's snakin' down the deeply-furrowed track.
Now the boss he swears to heaven that the timber's all bewitched,
An' Simon toils like seven men to get the tackle hitched.
An' it's: Ho, boys!
Right away!
Slew her at the nose!
An' the old winch coughs an' clatters every time the whistle blows.
The crowded world may call at times, but here I'd rather be,
With the strong men, the brown men, who work along with me;
With the good tan on their faces an' the clear look in their eyes
That come to men who ply their trade beneath the open skies:
The rough men,
The straight men,
With coarse words on the tongue.
An' hearts that work can never break an' minds that must kepe young.
Oh, it's swingin', swingin' Douglas with a strength you glory in,
Where willin' hands are honoured hands, an shirkin' is the sin -
An' it's: Hi, boys!
Clear, boys!
More to feed the mill!
An' the great tree whistles downward to a crash that shakes the hill.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time For Heroes
We search for an answer,
And when it appears
We can challenge the world with our sweat and our tears.
Through winning and losing,
The brave never bend,
The hero keeps fighting, standing tall in the end.
Time can change anything...and mend any fall.
The moment of truth is facing us all,
It's time for the hero to stand tall.
It's a time for heroes,
Time to answer the call,
It's a time for the hero in us all.
We carry the flame
For all to see
The fire and the passion, of what we can be.
Sometimes we must fight,
But we never bend
The hero keeps fighting, standing tall in the end.
Love can change anything...it's inside of us all
To reach out a hand whenever we fall.
It's time for the hero to stand tall.
It's a time for heroes,
Time to answer the call,
It's a time for the hero to stand tall.
It's a time for heroes,
When our back's to the wall
It's a time for the hero...in us all
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks
Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks
Sit together, building blocks;
Shuffle-Shoon is old and grey,
Amber-Locks a little child,
But together at their play
Age and Youth are reconciled,
And with sympathetic glee
Build their castles fair to see.
"When I grow to be a man"
(So the wee one's prattle ran),
"I shall build a castle so--
With a gateway broad and grand;
Here a pretty vine shall grow,
There a soldier guard shall stand;
And the tower shall be so high,
Folks will wonder, by-and-by!"
Shuffle-Shoon quoth: "Yes, I know;
Thus I builded long ago!
Here a gate and there a wall,
Here a window, there a door;
Here a steeple wondrous tall
Riseth ever more and more!
But the years have levelled low
What I builded long ago!"
So they gossip at their play,
Heedless of the fleeting day;
One speaks of the Long Ago
Where his dead hopes buried lie;
One with chubby cheeks aglow
Prattleth of the By-and-By;
Side by side, they build their blocks--
Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anzac Day
Patriotic men and women from sixty down to sixteen
Rode proudly on their horses in the famed Anzac green
Followed by the women of the Red Cross in their renowned white and red
On this day every April they honour the war dead.
Up to the war memorial where a large crowd stand around
And at the front of the congregation old 'Diggers' to be found
Old veterans of World war 2 they show their years in gray
Their war medals pinned to their lapels their bravery on display.
A lone bugler played the last post to honour the war dead
And an old man who was standing near i saw him bow his head
And tears were trickling down his face his thoughts were far away
Some noble men who were his friends in foreign Country lay.
We are gathered here this morning the ageing speaker said
To commemorate true heroes our great and brave war dead
They made the ultimate sacrifice and at a young age they did die
And we have them in part to thank for the freedom we enjoy
For our soldiers who died in foreign wars for their souls let us pray
It's only to remember them that we have Anzac day
Their bones may lay in foreign fields but in history they survive
And the spirit of the Anzac is still very much alive.
He thanked the old war veterans who marched in the parade
How can we thank you enough for the sacrifice you've made
You risked your lives in cause of peace 'we salute you today'
You noble men who won the war in Country far away.
He thanked the red cross women the finest in the Land
And the bugler who played 'The Last Post' and the six piece marching band
And the horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And he asked the band to finish up by playing 'God save the Queen'.
And the band played 'God save the Queen' but not 'Advance Australia Fair'
And i who doesn't believe in war could only feel aware
That in Britain they don't play the Australian anthem when they honour their war dead
Was it for Britain or Australia that young Aussie blood was shed? .
The horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And the bugler played the last post and the band played 'God Save The Queen'.
And a war veteran spoke of Aussie war dead their bones in Europe lay
At least they are remembered still on every Anzac Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where have all the trees gone Dad?
Dad! When I was in school the teacher showed me a picture of a tree
I've never seen one of those before, tall and handsome and brown and green you see
Do you remember seeing a tree when you were young? My teacher says there were many
She says that they grew all over the world but now days there aren't any
What did they look like? Did they blow in the wind?
Did the leaves fall in the autumn or was it in spring?
How high did they grow? Did they sway to and fro?
Did they look pretty covered in winters first fall of snow?
Dad, teacher says they'll grow no more, she says the climate has changed forever
She says we're all poorer now and explained to us how we'll have to suffer together
I heard that there was a tree that grew as tall as a skyscraper
But they cut it down and mulched it up to make us all new paper
It would be nice to see trees growing proud and strong
Reaching up to the sky with their branches so long
But that's just a dream I know I'll never see
It's just a vision in a picture never to be reality for me
My teacher said there used to be birds that lived amongst the bows
They flew around from branch to branch but we don't have those either now
What are nuts and berries and fruit the trees all used to bear?
My teacher says they were things we could eat at the end of every year
Well do you remember seeing a tree when you were young then Dad?
The like of which I have just explained and a pleasure I've never had
What do you mean they died out long ago, long before you were born
Now I'll never know why we cut them all down and my heart will always be torn.
poem by Glenn Ford
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Tough Llittle Boys
TOUGH LITTLE BOYS
I NEVER ONCE BACKED DOWN FROM A PUNCH
WELL ID TAKE IT SQUARE ON THE CHIN
I FOUND OUT FAST THAT BULLIES JUST LAUGH
I HAVE TO STAND UP TO HIM
I DIDNT CRY WHEN I GOT A BLACK EYE
AS BAD AS IT HURT I JUST GRINNED
WHEN TOUGH LITTLE BOYS GROW UP TO BE DADS
THEY TURN INTO BIG BABIES AGAIN
SCARED ME TO DEATH WHEN YOU TOOK YOUR FIRST STEPS
ID FALL EVERYTIME YOU FELL DOWN
YOUR FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL I CRIED LIKE A FOOL
I FOLLOWED YOUR SCHOOL BUS TO TOWN
I DIDNT CRY WHEN OLD YELLER DIED AT
LEAST NOT IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS
WHEN TOUGH LITTLE BOYS GROW UP TO BE DADS
THEY TURN INTO BIG BABIES AGAIN
IM A GROWN MAN BUT AS STRONG AS I AM
WELL SOMETIMES ITS HARD TO BELIEVE
HOW ONE LITTLE GIRL WITH LITTLE BLONDE CURLS
COULD TOTALLY TERRIFY ME
IF YOU WERE TO ASK MY WIFE WOULD JUST LAUGH
SHED SAY ID KNOW ALL ABOUT MEN
WHEN TOUGH LITTLE BOYS GROW UP TO BE DADS
THEY TURN INTO BIG BABIES AGAIN
WELL I KNOW ONE DAY I WILL GIVE YOU AWAY
IM GONNA STAND THERE AND SMILE
BUT WHEN I GET HOME AND IM ALL ALONE
WELL I SIT IN YOUR ROOM FOR A WHILE
WELL I DIDNT CRY WHEN OLD YELLER DIED
WELL AT LEAST NOT IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS
WHEN TOUGH LITTLE BOYS GROW UP TO BE DADS
THEY TURN INTO BIG BABIES AGAIN
WHEN TOUGH LITTLE BOYS GROW UP TO BE DADS
THEY TURN INTO BIG BABIES AGAIN
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ma Baker
She was the meanest cat
In old chicago town
She was the meanest cat
She really moved them down
She had no heart at all
No no no heart at all
She was the meanest cat
Oh she was really tough
She left her husband flat
He wasnt tough enough
She took her boys along
cos they were mean and strong
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she taught her four sons
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - to handle their guns
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she never could cry
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - but she knew how to die
They left a trail of crime
Across the u.s.a.
And when one boy was killed
She really made them pay
She had no heart at all
No no no heart at all
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she taught her four sons
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - to handle their guns
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she never could cry
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - but she knew how to die
She met a man she liked
She thought shed stay with him
One day he formed with them
They did away with him
She didnt care at all
Just didnt care at all
- here is a special bulletin.
Ma baker is the fbis most wanted woman.
Her photo is hanging on every post office wall.
If you have any information about this woman,
Please contact the nearest police station...
- dont anybody move! the money or your lives!
One day they robbed a bank
It was their last foray
The cops appeared too soon
They couldnt get away
And all the loot they had
It made them mighty mad
And so they shot it out
Ma baker and her sons
They didnt want to hang
They died with blazing guns
And so the story ends
Of one who left no friends
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she taught her four sons
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - to handle their guns
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she never could cry
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - but she knew how to die
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she taught her four sons
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - to handle their guns
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - she never could cry
Ma ma ma ma - ma baker - but she knew how to die
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writings On The Wall
The writings on the wall brother
Your life is in your hands
Its up to you to see the writings on the wall.
It looks you in the eye mister
Its time we stand up tall
Go see and understand the writings on the wall.
Strange we hold on to things that have no grace
Or power
While death holds on to us much more with every
Passing hour
And all the time you thought it would last
Your life, your friends would always be
til theyre drunk away or shot away or die away
From you.
Theres nothing that you need sister
The lord is in you all
Life is designed to see the writings on the wall.
The musics in the air mothers
You may have heard it call
To you that you may see the writings on the wall.
Be careful going home sister
Be watchful down that road
Youve got a lot of love sister
More to grow.
The writings on the wall brothers
Your life is in your hands
Its up to you to see the writings on the wall
I hope that you may see the writings on the wall.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Tall Shorty
They call me the long tall shorty
cause I know what love is all about
They call me long tall shorty
cause I know what love is all about
Well I can tell you where the lights go
Oh, when they go out
Girls, if you get lonely
Dial 4-2-4-6-8-9
Well, girls, if you get lonely
Dial 4-2-4-6-8-9
And your troubles will be over
Ill even give you back you dime
Oh yeah
I like em long, I like em tall
I like em short, and that aint all
Now when I die, dont bury me deep
Just put some women to my head, to my feet
Tell all the world now, to come and peep
Long tall shorty now has gone to sleep
Whoa now
I like em long, I like em tall
Oh yeah
They call me long tall shorty
cause I know what love is all about
They call me long tall shorty
cause I know what love is all about
Well I can tell you where the lights go
Oh, when they go out
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tough Little Boys
I never once, backed down from a punch.
I'd take it square on the chin.
Well I found out fast a bullys just that and you got to stand up to him.
So I didn't cry when I got a black eye as bad as it hurt I just grinned.
But when tough little boys grow up to be Dads
They turn into big babies again.
Scared me to death when took your first steps,
Well I'd fall everytime you fell down.
Your first day of school,
I cried like a fool, I followed your school bus to town.
Well I didn't cry when ol Yeller died
at least not in front of my friends.
But when tough little boys grow up to be
Dads they turn into big babies again.
Well I'm a grown man and as strong as I am.
Well sometimes it's hard to believe,
One little girl with little blonde curls can totally terrify me.
If you were to ask my wife would just laugh ,
she'd say I know all about men,
how tough little boys grow up to be Dads
they turn into big babies again.
Well I know one day I'll give you away
and I'm goin to stand there and smile.
When I get home and I'm all alone,
I'll sit in your room for awhile.
Cause when tough little boys grow up to be
Dads they turn into big babies again
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Struggle..
Life is tough for every single flower,
that has to endure the mighty power,
Life is tough for every single flower,
that has to do it alone over and over.
Has to sway to the tune of the wind,
has to dance to the beat of the rain,
has to tolerate the moods of the sun,
has to settle high on thin stem.
Life is tough for every single flower,
that blooms with hope and willpower,
to face every obstacle on its way,
to be victorious every day.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im In Love
Mom is talking on the phone talking to her agent
Got a big role in the egg & i
Dad is in the hall checking the replacements
Got the underware in overdrive
Somethings going on
I can hear the rumble getting louder on the quiet side
Call it what you want
Some will call it hunger
Some will call it everything in sight
So let the girls wear pants
Let the young boys dance in twos
And the walls? paint em blue!
cause Im in love with you
Summer turns to fall every single summer
Its a wonder that were still around
Well I could build a wall, I could be a bummer
I could tell you everythings down
Oh somethings going on
I can hear the grumble getting quiet on the louder side
Call it what you want
Some will call it thunder
Someone else will call it dynamite
So let the girls romance
Give the young boys dancing shoes
And the walls? paint em blue!
cause Im in love
Im in love with bees & birds (Im in love)
Im in love with the sun (Im in love)
Im in love with thought of the day
When the world is one (Im in love)
Im in love with the boys and girls (Im in love)
Im in love with the rain
Im in love with the sound you make
When you call my name
Sounds like peace again
Somethings awful wrong falling down is easy
Its the getting up thats getting hard
Call it what you want it can be misleading
But it can also take you where you are
Well I can hear them all talking to their faces
This is not the way you want to be
Take it to the wall or any other place
And you will see what Ive been trying to mean
So let the young girls dance
With the young boys dancing too
And the walls? paint em blue!
cause Im in love
Im in love with the boys and girls (Im in love)
Im in love with the sun (Im in love)
Im in love with thought of the day
When the world is one (Im in love)
Im in love with bees & birds (Im in love)
Im in love with the rain
Im in love with the sound you make
When you call my name
Sounds like peace again
Im in love (Im in love)
Yeah!
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sons And Daughters
There's a place in the city they call the Archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
and I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldn't know I was with them no more
When they said, "Where's me dad?" She'd say, "He's a star!"
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and I've got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage breaks up you're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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