Since the Cities are the Cities
FOOLS can parrot-cry the prophet when the proof is close at hand,
And the blind can see the danger when the foe is in the land!
Truth was never cynicism, death or ruin’s not a joke,
“Told-you-so” is not a warning—Patriotism not a croak.
Blame will aid no man nor country when the dark days come at last—
As with men so with a nation, and the warning time is past.
Our great sins were of omission, and the dogs of war are loosed—
And we all must stand together when those sins come home to roost.
Since the cities are the cities and shall stand for evermore,
Let us justify our being, be it peace or be it war.
For because we are the townsfolk, and have never ridden far
Shall we call the bush to aid us that has made us what we are?
Westward went our brothers, fighting distance, drought, and loneliness
While we lived in light and comfort knowing nothing of distress,
We who never shared the hardships when the sunset led them on,
Now’s our time, O street-bred people, with our faces to the dawn!
They have conquered with the cross-cut and the wedges and the maul,
With the spade and axe and mattock and the saddle-packs and all,
They have mighty work before them for the sake of you and me—
Let us stand up to our duty! We’re the Rearguard by the Sea.
Days of gibes at “street-bred people” by the street-bred bards are done—
Shall the man who lays the yard-stick never learn to lay the gun?
Shall the crouched type-writer toiling for his home in days like these
Touch the button the less firmly when we play on other keys?
We have seen in many countries what the street-bred men can do—
In the desert, scrub and jungle they were men who battled through!
Human weeds of grand endurance winning where the strong men quailed,
Pigeon-chested leaders leading on where beef-born courage failed.
Street-bred people down the ages—beggars, mobs and democrats—
Fought through many desperate sieges (fought on horseflesh, dogs and rats)
When their own cowed country failed them, then the city soul was proved—
“Street-bred people” died in thousands for the cities that they loved.
In the days when strength was needed—days of pike and axe and sword—
Daylight found the peaceful burghers ready, keeping watch and ward.
Clerks and tailors fought like heroes at the gates and in the trench—
(Even Falstaff brought his herrings with some slaughter through the French).
Every man should have a cottage and a garden to defend,
But the “should-be” is for ever—cities stand until the end,
Every farmer has a country that he loves when war-drums roll—
Every clerk may have a city that he loves with heart and soul.
Fat or lean, we all are sinners—lean or fat we all would be;
High or low or lean or fatted, ’tis for Nationality.
It will be till all is ended, as it was since all began—
’Tis the head and not the feathers! ’tis the heart and not the “man”!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Related quotes
Street Player
Ill never forget those aimless years
Street sounds swirling through my mind
Trouble was often in the air
So we fought to forget our despair
Im a street player
And Ill play you a song
cause you know, my heart & soul
Will carry, carry on
Carry on
Carry on
Carry on
City lifes the only way
Street corners and billiard halls was our home away
Lessons learned still help me today
Im a street player
Ive seen it all
Hitmen, thieves and many a brawl
But as you see I still stand tall
It was such a small space in time
I never knew that I would find
A musical path for all to see
Anxiety into ecstacy
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Ive seen it all
Hitmen, thieves and many a brawl
But as you see I still stand tall
It was such a small space in time
I never knew that I would find
A musical path for all to see
Anxiety into ecstacy
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canada First
To home and Country shouts we raise I
For Home and Land to Heaven we cry !
In Home and Country let us live
For Home and Land we stand to die !
This Land us bred : these Hills are ours :
These Mighty Floods that seaward roll
We know no masters but ourselves
We know no bounds this side the pole !
God gave to us these Reaching Woods :
The Spreading Lakes we sail upon ;
We hold them for our children's right
And who is he intrudes thereon?
And we shall till the Rolling Plains
That reach into the setting sun ;
'Tis our Dominion to extend
To coasts that lave the Great Ocean.
To Home and Country shouts we raise !
For Home and Land to Heaven we cry !
In Home and Country let us live
For Home and Land we stand to die !
poem by Robert Kirkland Kernighan
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Dancin' In The Streets (live)
Hey, comin' out around the world be ready for a brand new beat
Oh, summer's here and the time is right, oh, for dancing in the street
Dancing in Chicago (dancing in the street)
Down in New Orleans (dancing in the street)
In New York City (dancing in the street)
All we need is music, sweet music (sweet, sweet music)
They'll be music everywhere (everywhere)
They'll be laughing, singing, music swinging and dancing in the street
It doesn't matter what you wear just as long as you are there
They're dancing (dancing in the street) oh oh
This is an invitation across the nation the chance for folks to meet
There'll be swinging, swaying, music playing and dancing in the street
Philadelphia, PA now (dancing in the street)
Baltimore and D.C. (dancing in the street)
Can't forget them other cities (dancing in the street
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancing In The Streets
Hey, comin out around the world be ready for a brand new beat
Oh, summers here and the time is right, oh, for dancing in the street
Dancing in chicago (dancing in the street)
Down in new orleans (dancing in the street)
In new york city (dancing in the street)
All we need is music, sweet music (sweet, sweet music)
Theyll be music everywhere (everywhere)
Theyll be laughing, singing, music swinging and dancing in the street
It doesnt matter what you wear just as long as you are there
Theyre dancing (dancing in the street) oh oh
This is an invitation across the nation the chance for folks to meet
Therell be swinging, swaying, music playing and dancing in the street
Philadelphia, pa now (dancing in the street)
Baltimore and d.c. (dancing in the street)
Cant forget them other cities (dancing in the street)
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Yonge Street
See the people walkin up and down
See the people movin all around
On the streets of my hometown on yonge street
Longest street in the world they say
Summertime soon slips away
I hope Ill see you one fine day on yonge street
Everywhere you go in a city by the lake
Back there in the flow you may give a hand a shake
Everyone you pass seems to wanna say hello
Even late at night on the freshly fallen snow
See the children jumpin all around
See the parents looking up and down
Upon the streets of my hometown on yonge street
Its a mean street if you choose
Its a lean street when you lose
An in-between street when you cruise on yonge street
Everywhere you go in a city by the lake
Youll be sure and find its a case of give and take
Everyone you pass seems to want to say hello
Even late at night when the streets are all aglow
Its the longest street in the world
With the most feet in the world
Another street where boy meets girl on yonge street
See the people walkin up and down
See the people movin all around
Those are the streets of my hometown on yonge street
Everywhere you walk people almost say hello
Even late at night when the streets are all aglow
On yonge street
On yonge street
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Fighting Man
Everywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy
cause summers here and the time is right for fighting in the street, boy
Tell me what can a poor boy do
cept for sing for a rock n roll band
cause in this sleepy l.a. town
Theres just no place for a street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
Do you think the time is right for a palace revolution
Where I live the game to play is compromise solution
Well then what can a poor boy
cept for sing for a rock n roll band
cause in this sleepy l.a. town
Theres just no place for a street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Hey my name is called disturbance
Ill shout and scream, Ill kill the king, Ill rail at all his servants
Well what can a poor boy do
For sing for a rock n roll band
In this sleepy l.a. town
Theres just no place for
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Aint Got The Blues
Well, Im a little light-headed
But my body feels the same
And it feels like fallin on down
And find another name
But the sand in my shoes
May trickle to my brain
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more tame
Oh yeah, something more tame
Oh yeah, something more tame.
Well the sound of the drums
Is pounding in my head
Like ten thousand dancers
With bodies full of lead
And I feel like a bull
With an eye-full of red
Well, I aint got the blues
But something better bred
Oh yeah, something better bred
Oh yeah, something better bred.
If tomorrow sees another
Kind of farm I know
Well, the people and the soldiers
And the gypsies groan
It would be like a wonder
And I cannot let it go
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more slow
Oh yeah, something more slow
Oh yeah, something more slow.
But the people in the cities
And the other ones too
Aint got too many wonders
That theyre not tied to
And I cant help but feeling
As Im wearing straight through
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more true
Oh yeah, something more true
Oh yeah, something more true.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welsh History
We were a people taut for war; the hills
Were no harder, the thin grass
Clothed them more warmly than the coarse
Shirts our small bones.
We fought, and were always in retreat,
Like snow thawing upon the slopes
Of Mynydd Mawr; and yet the stranger
Never found our ultimate stand
In the thick woods, declaiming verse
To the sharp prompting of the harp.
Our kings died, or they were slain
By the old treachery at the ford.
Our bards perished, driven from the halls
Of nobles by the thorn and bramble.
We were a people bred on legends,
Warming our hands at the red past.
The great were ashamed of our loose rags
Clinging stubbornly to the proud tree
Of blood and birth, our lean bellies
And mud houses were a proof
Of our ineptitude for life.
We were a people wasting ourselves
In fruitless battles for our masters,
In lands to which we had no claim,
With men for whom we felt no hatred.
We were a people, and are so yet.
When we have finished quarrelling for crumbs
Under the table, or gnawing the bones
Of a dead culture, we will arise
And greet each other in a new dawn.
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gasoline Alley Bred
Woman, get your head out of curlers.
Time get your butt out of bed.
Get down your hats and baggage, my child.
Going back home,
going back to the homestead.
I'm a-gonna heat me some water,
and put a shine upon my shoes.
Telephone my ma,
Keep the room above Joe's
'Cause we're coming back,
coming back to the homestead.
Everything is packed,
getting back to the homestead.
This time, this time we'll stay.
I know that we could have made it;
we had ideas in our heads.
And I wish somehow
we could have saved it
but we're Gasoline Alley bred.
Yet the years haven't really been wasted,
and I know it in my head.
We did good for the life that we've tasted
'cause we're Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley bred
Woman, you can really believe it,
I did everything a man could do.
Breaking my back just to make us a dime.
That won't mean a damn
when no one wants to know you.
Woman, I know how you're feeling.
I've seen the hurt upon your face.
How many time do you think that I've cried?
Knowing every day that your heart was getting broken,
holdin' back your pride til you were nearly chokin'
Oh let's get away.
chorus
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Street
On the street
On the street
O, O, On the street
On the street
O, O, On the street
[Everybody dance]
[Watch for the difference]
On the street
{Breaking on broadway]
O, O, On the street
[Shaking on sunset strip]
On the street
[Like nobody booming supporting that]
Da, da, da, da, da ...
On the street
On the street
Dancing
On the street
On the street
Dancing
Dancing
On the street
On the street
[Twisting on the turnpipe]
Dancing
On the street
On the street
On the street ...
Da, da, da, da, ...
Dance on the street ...
song performed by by Madonna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Pigeons
Around my boots where I am sitting crumbs of bread they happily eat
The cheeky and colourful City pigeons so at home on the city street
Their cousins the rock pigeons of the Northlands in Town would feel so out of place
They once were the very same species though now quite a different race.
Introduced by humans to cities all around the World in busy towns they feel at home
Beyond the borders of suburbia the city pigeons seldom do roam
They build their flimsy nests of sticks on building ledges their young they hatch out in the Spring
Like their ancestors on trees they do not roost or nest Nature is such a wonderful thing.
Some people they like and feed the city pigeons whilst others do not like them at all
Though Nature cares for all of her children from the very great to the small
And wild-born things can be so adaptable in noisy environments they they've learned to dwell
The city pigeons of this one example in cities they do very well.
By the street seat around my boots they eat bread crumbs like house sparrows they are almost tame
They were born and raised in the city to be good at surviving their one claim to fame
Liked by some and disliked by others but that they are good at surviving none can deny
They are born and raised in the noisy city and in the city they do die.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guitar Street
Theres a crazy sense of duty
As he licks between his fingers
Wipes the ketchup from his face and hands
Theres a strong determination
That his teachers never witnessed
Never close enough to understand
Hes like a bull just bred for fighting
He dont deliver nothing
Outside the only thing that he knows
School report just says hes lazy
His brother says hes crazy
But take a look cos there he goes
Through the avenues of fashion
To the palaces of dreams
All the way down guitar street
To some guitars are hot-rods
All along the quest for macho
To others a would-be ticket out of town
For joe a six-string sten gun
In the panto-revolution
And stevies all just strictly sound
Hes like a bull just bred for fighting
He dont deliver nothing
Outside the only thing that he knows
School report just says hes lazy
His brother says hes crazy
But anyway take a look cos there he goes
Through the avenues of fashion
To the palaces of dreams
All the way down guitar street
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldiers Heart
sir
i am no normal person
i was no normal child
brought up in the country
one view in my mind
this country we live in
this place we call home
this is my england
with honour to the thrown
i'd fight for queen and country
if the call was made
i'd fight under the flag
this is my way
people think im crazy
people think im mad
this is no normal heart
it is the heart of the soldier
born and bred a soldier
the title i never took
instead im known as police officer
a baton is my rifle
different colour uniform
my boots the same as all the soldiers
my heart the sames as theirs
so when you ask me my name sir
the reply that you will get
i am but a soldier sir
and that i will never forget
Oh To Be Back Home In Ireland (To Jo)
Oh to be back home in Ireland now that April winds are blowing
And the weather getting milder and the green grass is a growing
And the breath of Spring is in the air and daylight hours grow long
And the skylark o'er the heather sings his merry April song.
Oh to be back home in Ireland the Country of my birth
The Land where I was bred and raised the greenest Land on Earth,
Land of the grassy valleys and scenic heather hills
Of murmuring brooks and rivers and rippling mountain rills.
I have travelled thousands of miles from my home in County Cork
I have been to London City and westward to New York,
I have seen the lights of Paris and the seven hills of Rome
But my heart is always yearning for my Country and my home.
And it's oh to be in Ireland now that April days are here
And the wildborn birds are singing in the Springtime of the year
And the wildflowers are a blooming and new leaves grow on the trees
In the Country I was raised in way beyond Atlantic seas.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Our street light
there we would sit
under the street light
free from the dark
just you and me
having a laugh
talking bout the good times
talking bout the bad
however messed up our lives were
watever pain we were in
the street light would heal us and set us free again
it was our getaway
it was our thing
the street light brought us together
the street light brought us the end
i still remember that street light like that special glow you had my friend
the street light brought us fun
the street light brought us love
the street light brought us warmth as we lay and look at the stars above
i was happy under the street light
as i knew you were too
comforting each other was all we used to do
the street light may be faded
the street light may be dull
but lets just remember the street light kept us going strong!
poem by Brad Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Australia's Federal Election 2007
November the twenty fourth is Australia's Election day the campaign for power begin
The winners govern for three years the prize is great to win
They have in them the lust for power they campaign for their own sake
The winners set to govern big egos are at stake.
Who wins or loses Government I can't say I much care
Since from the Election I don't stand to lose or gain of that much I'm aware
Big time politics can be a dirty game and smear politics is an in thing
On their opponents they rake the muck and their own praises they do sing.
Three right wing parties competing for power will not help those in poverty
A Nation without a Socialist Party seems a sad Nation to me
In a so called first World Country in big Cities homeless people on the street
Sleeping rough and searching rubbish bins for thrown out food to eat.
November the twenty fourth is Federal Election voting day and the days of cleanly fought campaigns is long gone
Twenty first century politics is a dirty game and the grab for power is on
The gap between the haves and the have nots is getting wider by the day
And whoever wins will not help the have nots and that seems sad to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Federal City
OH! the folly, the waste, and the pity! Oh, the time that is flung behind!
They are seeking a site for a city, whose eyes shall be always blind,
Whose love for their ease grows greater, and whose care for their country less—
They are seeking a site for a city—a City of Selfishness.
In ignorance, deafness, blindness, in the cities by the sea,
With waste of time and of money, and with local jealousy;
With Anti-Federal envy, and personal paltriness,
They are seeking a site for a city—while Australia moans in distress.
By the coast with the people crowding, where Australia’s danger lies,
By the hills and the clear, cool rivers, and under the softer skies,
Where the fat shall not melt, and the ranter grow cool in the fresh’ning breeze,
And the dwellers drivel in comfort and the boodlers swindle at ease.
They are seeking a site for a city in the beauty spots of the land,
While I see so plainly, my children, where the Federal towers should stand!
Where the heart of Australia beats strongest and highest in desert air.
Make a site for a Federal City, and build you your capital there!
Where the crowd should be drawn from the coast line to the great bush that cradled the race,
Where the bush might be armed and directed should the seaboard be lost for a space;
Where the waste should be watered and gardened, in the drought-land of Never Despair,
There build you your Federal City, and make you a paradise there.
It shall be a world-wide object-lesson; it shall stand while a bushman is true,
And I tell you the bushmen will build it to show what a nation can do;
And there shall Australia sit queenly, and there shall her children be schooled,
For, I say, from the heart of Australia shall the whole of Australia be ruled.
poem by Henry Lawson
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That Great Waiting Silence
Where shall we go for prophecy? Where shall we go for proof?
The holiday street is crowded, pavement, window and roof;
Band and banner pass by us, and the old tunes rise and fall—
But that great waiting silence is on the people all!
Where is the cheering and laughter of the eight-hour days gone by?
When the holiday heart was careless, and the holiday spirit high—
The friendly jostling and banter, the wit and the jovial call?
But that great waiting silence is over the people all.
Oh! but my heart beats faster—and a gush that was nearly tears:
Clatter of hammers on iron! and Australian Engineers!
Goods from Australian workshops—proud to the world at last
(And I see, in a flash from the future, Australian guns go past).
The morning sun-glare, softened by a veil, like frosted glass—
There is no breath of a head-breeze as the Labour banners pass,
There seems no sign of a danger or a change for the workers now—
But for some great, new-born spirit the banners seem to bow.
Where shall we go for our platforms? Where shall we go, indeed?
Shall we follow the cackle of women that follow the jesting Reid,
Through indifferent-seeming cities—and the browned men straight and tall?
But that great waiting silence is on the people all.
Twist and tangle and mystify, bully, and weep and bluff;
Marry the truth to a glaring lie, and say it is good enough;
Boast of your vice and villainy—in your virtue rant and bawl—
But that great waiting silence is over the people all!
Brothers, who work with shovel or pen, labour by day and night:
Brothers, who think of the hearts of men, ponder and speak and write;
Work for Australia’s destiny, content till you hear the call,
For the spirit that builds a nation is over the people all.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Main Street Eyes
This whole country is scared of failure.
My head keeps trying to sell me ambition.
But in my heart, I want self-respect.
Theres a conflict.
Boy, I feel so outgunned today
But Ill get up and fight back, anyway
You and I aare not huge mainstream stars
But unlike them, were really what we are
We got main street eyes
Watchin as the big boys roll by
Under rotten television skies
We got main street eyes
I saw a kitten squashed in the street
I read about a plastic surgeon and his art collection.
We are played for suckers all the time
Phony rock and roll
Its a crime
I dont want to dip myself in trash
I dont want to give myself for cash
We got main street eyes
Tryin to do whats decent with our lives
Under funny television skies
We got main street eyes
Walkin around sometimes
I see a tension under the surface
People are just about ready to explode.
So hold me, and trust me
I love you, dont worry.
Keep your main street eyes
Keep your main street eyes
Keep your main street eyes
Eyes
Eyes
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wake Me!
Wake me when the war is over
Then tell me who won the fight,
“ hoorah ” for us if we have won,
and if we lost, then GOD wasn't on our side.
Then let me know just why we fought
And the reasons that we might die
Refresh my memory of this war once more
So never again must I ask why.
And if anyone asks if I did fight
While I was station way over there,
Thank them all and tell them of course I did
And thank them for keeping me in there prayer.
And tell them all no medals home will I bring
As I fought just for home and glory,
“MMM”, I like how that sounded
I think That will be my story.
I never fought for hate or for love
Never fought for the red, black, yellow or white
I never fought for riches or for wealth
I fought for my leaders, as they told me to fight.
Wake me when this war is over
Or tell me when the fighting is done
So I can discard my gun and put on my boots
And then head home, to my wife and son.
And tell them all I served my country well
Please tell them one lie after another
And tell them all I fought for GOD and Country
And also of course for my friends and mother.
And tell them while I was way over there
I fought hard each and every day
I killed for truth and I killed for justice
And every night for my sins to GOD I would pray.
So much sadness came from this war
Sadness I seen each and every way
How much I miss my family and home
And how I so hate in being afraid.
And when you do tell of my story
Don't tell it so sad to cause any to weep
Because during this war I did not a thing
Because as you know, all I did was sleep.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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