The Song Of Old Joe Swallow
When I was up the country in the rough and early days,
I used to work along ov Jimmy Nowlett's bullick-drays;
Then the reelroad wasn't heered on, an' the bush was wild an' strange,
An' we useter draw the timber from the saw-pits in the range --
Load provisions for the stations, an' we'd travel far and slow
Through the plains an' 'cross the ranges in the days of long ago.
Then it's yoke up the bullicks and tramp beside 'em slow,
An' saddle up yer horses an' a-ridin' we will go,
To the bullick-drivin', cattle-drovin',
Nigger, digger, roarin', rovin'
Days o' long ago.
Once me and Jimmy Nowlett loaded timber for the town,
But we hadn't gone a dozen mile before the rain come down,
An' me an' Jimmy Nowlett an' the bullicks an' the dray
Was cut off on some risin' ground while floods around us lay;
An' we soon run short of tucker an' terbacca, which was bad,
An' pertaters dipped in honey was the only tuck we had.
An' half our bullicks perished when the drought was on the land,
An' the burnin' heat that dazzles as it dances on the sand;
When the sun-baked clay an' gravel paves for miles the burnin' creeks,
An' at ev'ry step yer travel there a rottin' carcase reeks --
But we pulled ourselves together, for we never used ter know
What a feather bed was good for in those days o' long ago.
But in spite ov barren ridges an' in spite ov mud an' heat,
An' dust that browned the bushes when it rose from bullicks' feet,
An' in spite ov cold and chilblains when the bush was white with frost,
An' in spite of muddy water where the burnin' plain was crossed,
An' in spite of modern progress, and in spite of all their blow,
'Twas a better land to live in, in the days o' long ago.
When the frosty moon was shinin' o'er the ranges like a lamp,
An' a lot of bullick-drivers was a-campin' on the camp,
When the fire was blazin' cheery an' the pipes was drawin' well,
Then our songs we useter chorus an' our yarns we useter tell;
An' we'd talk ov lands we come from, and ov chaps we useter know,
For there always was behind us OTHER days o' long ago.
Ah, them early days was ended when the reelroad crossed the plain,
But in dreams I often tramp beside the bullick-team again:
Still we pauses at the shanty just to have a drop er cheer,
Still I feels a kind ov pleasure when the campin'-ground is near;
Still I smells the old tarpaulin me an' Jimmy useter throw
O'er the timber-truck for shelter in the days ov long ago.
I have been a-driftin' back'ards with the changes ov the land,
An' if I spoke ter bullicks now they wouldn't understand,
But when Mary wakes me sudden in the night I'll often say:
`Come here, Spot, an' stan' up, Bally, blank an' blank an' come-eer-way.'
An' she says that, when I'm sleepin', oft my elerquince 'ill flow
In the bullick-drivin' language ov the days o' long ago.
Well, the pub will soon be closin', so I'll give the thing a rest;
But if you should drop on Nowlett in the far an' distant west --
An' if Jimmy uses doubleyou instead of ar an' vee,
An' if he drops his aitches, then you're sure to know it's he.
An' yer won't forgit to arsk him if he still remembers Joe
As knowed him up the country in the days o' long ago.
Then it's yoke up the bullicks and tramp beside 'em slow,
An' saddle up yer horses an' a-ridin' we will go,
To the bullick-drivin', cattle-drovin',
Nigger, digger, roarin', rovin'
Days o' long ago.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Two Samaritans and the Tramp
A TRAMP was trampin’ on the road—
The afternoon was warm an’ muggy—
And by-and-by he chanced to meet
A parsin ridin’ in a buggy.
Said he: “As follerers ov the Loard,
To do good offices we oughter!”
An’ from a water-bag he poured,
An’ guv the tramp, a drink er water.
The parsin he went rattlin’ ’ome
To ware his fam-i-lee was thrivin’,
The tramp went on until he met
A bullick-driver, bullick drivin’—
“It’s bilin’ ’ot,” the driver sed
As soon’s the dirty tramp drawed nearer,
And from a little keg he poured,
And giv the tramp a pint of beer—“ah!”
(P.S.—The “ah” is meant to stand for the tramp a-drinking ov it.)
I ain’t agin the temperance cause,
Nor yet no advocate ov drinkin’—
I only tells the yarn because—
Well, at the time it somehow seemed
Ter kind ov set me thinkin’.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Battling Days
So, sit you down in a straight-backed chair, with your pipe and your wife content,
And cross your knees with your wisest air, and preach of the ‘days mis-spent;’
Grown fat and moral apace, old man! you prate of the change ‘since then’—
In spite of all, I’d as lief be back in those hard old days again.
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel at times—but then,
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those hard old days again.
The land was barren to sow wild oats in the days when we sowed our own—
(’Twas little we thought or our friends believed that ours would ever be sown)
But the wild oats wave on their stormy path, and they speak of the hearts of men—
I would sow a crop if I had my time in those hard old days again.
We travel first, or we go saloon—on the planned-out trips we go,
With those who are neither rich nor poor, and we find that the life is slow;
It’s ‘a pleasant trip’ where they cried, ‘Good luck!’ There was fun in the steerage then—
In spite of all, I would fain be back in those vagabond days again.
On Saturday night we’ve a pound to spare—a pound for a trip down town—
We took more joy in those hard old days for a hardly spared half-crown;
We took more pride in the pants we patched than the suits we have had since then—
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those comical days again.
’Twas We and the World—and the rest go hang—as the Outside tracks we trod;
Each thought of himself as a man and mate, and not as a martyred god;
The world goes wrong when your heart is strong—and this is the way with men—
The world goes right when your liver is white, and you preach of the change ‘since then.’
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel times—but then,
In spite of all, we shall live to-night in those hard old days again.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Shanty On The Rise
When the caravans of wool-teams climbed the ranges from the West,
On a spur among the mountains stood `The Bullock-drivers' Rest';
It was built of bark and saplings, and was rather rough inside,
But 'twas good enough for bushmen in the careless days that died --
Just a quiet little shanty kept by `Something-in-Disguise',
As the bushmen called the landlord of the Shanty on the Rise.
City swells who `do the Royal' would have called the Shanty low,
But 'twas better far and purer than some toney pubs I know;
For the patrons of the Shanty had the principles of men,
And the spieler, if he struck it, wasn't welcome there again.
You could smoke and drink in quiet, yarn, or else soliloquise,
With a decent lot of fellows in the Shanty on the Rise.
'Twas the bullock-driver's haven when his team was on the road,
And the waggon-wheels were groaning as they ploughed beneath the load;
And I mind how weary teamsters struggled on while it was light,
Just to camp within a cooey of the Shanty for the night;
And I think the very bullocks raised their heads and fixed their eyes
On the candle in the window of the Shanty on the Rise.
And the bullock-bells were clanking from the marshes on the flats
As we hurried to the Shanty, where we hung our dripping hats;
And we took a drop of something that was brought at our desire,
As we stood with steaming moleskins in the kitchen by the fire.
Oh! it roared upon a fireplace of the good, old-fashioned size,
When the rain came down the chimney of the Shanty on the Rise.
They got up a Christmas party in the Shanty long ago,
While I camped with Jimmy Nowlett on the riverbank below;
Poor old Jim was in his glory -- they'd elected him M.C.,
For there wasn't such another raving lunatic as he.
`Mr. Nowlett, Mr. Swaller!' shouted Something-in-Disguise,
As we walked into the parlour of the Shanty on the Rise.
There is little real pleasure in the city where I am --
There's a swarry round the corner with its mockery and sham;
But a fellow can be happy when around the room he whirls
In a party up the country with the jolly country girls.
Why, at times I almost fancied I was dancing on the skies,
When I danced with Mary Carey in the Shanty on the Rise.
Jimmy came to me and whispered, and I muttered, `Go along!'
But he shouted, `Mr. Swaller will oblige us with a song!'
And at first I said I wouldn't, and I shammed a little too,
Till the girls began to whisper, `Mr. Swallow, now, ah, DO!'
So I sang a song of something 'bout the love that never dies,
And the chorus shook the rafters of the Shanty on the Rise.
Jimmy burst his concertina, and the bullock-drivers went
For the corpse of Joe the Fiddler, who was sleeping in his tent;
Joe was tired and had lumbago, and he wouldn't come, he said,
But the case was very urgent, so they pulled him out of bed;
And they fetched him, for the bushmen knew that Something-in-Disguise
Had a cure for Joe's lumbago in the Shanty on the Rise.
Jim and I were rather quiet while escorting Mary home,
'Neath the stars that hung in clusters, near and distant, from the dome;
And we walked so very silent -- being lost in reverie --
That we heard the settlers'-matches rustle softly on the tree;
And I wondered who would win her when she said her sweet good-byes --
But she died at one-and-twenty, and was buried on the Rise.
I suppose the Shanty vanished from the ranges long ago,
And the girls are mostly married to the chaps I used to know;
My old chums are in the distance -- some have crossed the border-line,
But in fancy still their glasses chink against the rim of mine.
And, upon the very centre of the greenest spot that lies
In my fondest recollection, stands the Shanty on the Rise.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Of These Days
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
And Im gonna try
And thank them all for the good times together.
Though so apart weve grown.
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
And Im gonna thank,
That old country fiddler
And all those rough boys
Who play that rock n roll
I never tried to burn any bridges
Though I know I let some good things go.
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
From down in l.a.
All the way to nashville,
From new york city
To my canadian prairie home
My friends are scattered
Like leaves from an old maple.
Some are weak, some are strong.
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drivin Around
(eric carmen/david smalley)
Long hot days
Well be catchin the rays
(oh baby) long hot days
Well be catchin the rays
You know my tape deck is blastin
My cars fast
When school lets out
And the summers here
Well have some time for the sun
Throw my notebooks out
And put my car in gear
cause well be havin some fun
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
You know my tape deck is blastin
My cars fast,
With my girl by my side
We can go for a ride
To find a place we can dance
And when it gets real dark
We can stop in the park
And have a backseat romance
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
You know my tape deck is blastin
My cars fast,
Im drivin around, yeah
Ill be waitin all through the year
Just to get you alone with nobody near
Baby dont be late
cause I just cant wait
All I wanna do is make love to you
With my girl by my side
We can go for a ride
To find a place we can dance
And when it gets real dark
We can stop in the park
And have a backseat romance, yeah
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
You know my tape deck is blastin
My cars fast,
Im drivin around, oh yeah
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
You know my tape deck is blastin
My cars fast,
Im drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Drivin around
(long hot days well be catchin the rays)
Mama, well be drivin around, and around and around
Well be drivin around
song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Of These Days
Wish someone would tell me when
I wont think of you again
Ill get past the emptiness and
Let a little happiness back in
Pretending that you came
Leaves me half way there
One of these one of these days
Ill be completely over you
Heaven knows how long it will take
And one of these one of these days
Ill find somebody wholl love your memories away
One of these days
One of these days
Some how some way
Ever since youve been gone
Time has a way of dragging on and on
Friends drive by for company
But Im not much company for long
Oh ill get past the what was
If I live long enough
One of these one of these days
Ill be completely over you
Heaven knows how long it will take
And one of these one of these days
Ill find somebody wholl love your memories away some way
One of these days
One of these days
Some how some way
One of these one of these days
Ill be completely over you
Heaven knows how long it will take
And one of these one of these days
Ill find somebody wholl love your memories away some way
One of these days
One of these days one of these days
One of these days some how some way
One of these days one of these days
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seven Days
I dont care if the rain dont shine
Oh, I dont care if the sun dont fall
You are the one in a million, child
And you knew that I would call
Thoughts of you alone with me
I cant slow them down
But I cant sleep at night
Because youre not around
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
To be waiting for you girl
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
To be without you girl
Ive tried every kind of distraction
But nothing will ease this pain
There is only one solution, girl
So why do you make me wait
Got to say I didnt think
That I could read your mind
But I cant sleep at night
cause baby youre on mine
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
Oh, I miss you girl
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
To be without you
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
Just too long
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lament For Leaf Loss
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the days are growing darker and the night lasts long
But listen for the flutter of each shrivelled tear
As it drops in golden leaf-fall of the fading, dying year.
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the light is growing dimmer and the night lasts long
But listen for the echoes of the summer’s breeze
As it gossips with the branches of the leafless poplar trees.
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the frost is growing grimmer and the night lasts long
But listen for the rustle of lost autumn leaves
And the crying of the dewdrops as the barren forest grieves.
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the mood is growing glummer and the night lasts long
But listen for the whispers of the coming spring
When the buds begin their bursting and the birds begin to sing.
Sing no more for the days that are gone
For the light will soon be stronger and the night less long
And listen to the rhythm of season’s song
As spring will soon be with us while the winter won’t be long.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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The Passing of Scotty
WE THROW us down on the dusty plain
When the gold has gone from the west,
But we rise and tramp on the track again,
For we’re tired—too tired to rest.
Darker and denser the shadows fall
That are cramping each aching brow—
Scotty the Wrinkler! you’ve solved it all,
Give us a wrinkle now.
But no one lieth so still in death
As the rover who never could rest;
And he’s free of thought as he’s free of breath—
And his hands are crossed on his breast.
You have earned your rest—you brave old tramp—
As I hope in the end we will.
Ah me! ’Twas a long, long way to camp
Since the days when they called you “Phil’.
What have they done with your quaint old soul
Now they have passed you through?
But we can’t but think, as our swags we roll,
That it’s right, old man, with you;
You learned some truth in the storm and strife
Of the outcast battler’s ways;
And you left some light in the vagabond’s life
Ere you vanished beyond the haze.
One by one in the far ahead,
In the smothering haze of drought—
Where hearts are loyal and hopes are dead—
The forms of our mates fade out.
’Tis a distant goal and a weary load,
But we follow the Wrinkler home,
As, staggering into the short, straight road,
From the blind branch tracks we come.
We leave our mark and we play our part
In the nation’s pregnant days,
And we find a place in the Bushman’s heart
Ere we vanish beyond the haze.
poem by Henry Lawson
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These Days
Well I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking these days
These days
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do for you
And all the times I had a chance to
And I had a lover
But it's so hard to risk another these days
These days
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
Well it's just that I've been losing for so long
So I'll keep on moving
Things are bound to be improving
These days
One of these days
These days I sit on cornerstones
And count the time in quartertones to ten
My friend
Don't confront me with my failures
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ive Been Out Walking
This song appears on the album for everyman as these days with slightly different lyrics.
Ive been out walking
I dont do too much talking these days
These days
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to
I stopped my ramblin
I dont do too much gamblin these days
These days
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my way
And I wonder if Ill see another highway
And I had a lover
I dont think Ill risk another these days
These days
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
Well its just cause Ive been losing so long
Well Ill stop my dreamin
I dont do too much schemin these days
These days
These days Ill sit on cornerstones
And count the time in quartertones to ten
Please dont confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drifting Sun
Music :ulrich roth
Lyrics:ulrich roth
Well, Im sitting on a stone
Sitting all alone
Daisies are rolling down the mountain
Well see the lonesome tramp
Whos living in the damp
Nobodys in the valley
Shine on, shine on sun
Oh its so cold right here
Shine on, shine on sun
Shine on all night long
All night long
Baby doll, Im sad and blue
Glossy wings will carry you
Well, midnight sun will never shine
These ravings of a fool
Youre thinking all about him all the time
Shine on, shine on sun
Oh its so cold right here
Shine on, shine on sun
Shine on all night long, all night long
All night long, yeah
One day baby told you sun just fades away
Forgot your life is fading, now hes in the grave
Some days like drifting haze
Some days like glowing blaze
Some days like tides of light
Some days like tides of night
One day baby told you sun just fades away
Forgot your life is fading, now hes in the grave
Some days like drifting haze
Some days like glowing blaze
Some days like tides of light
Some days like tides of night
Travelling along a tropic highway
Crazy as the world goes round and round
Hallowed heaven, night or day
Burning thing has putting the sun away
Shine on, shine on sun
Let it shine on all night long
Shine on, shine on sun
Let it shine on all night long
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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30 Days Out
We fell in love and I made you the world
I spent all my time tryin to satisfy you, girl
Just one thing that I cant figure out [? ]
Closer I get, farther baby I am out [? ]
30 days, 30 days out
Well Im six days runnin but Im 30 days out
30 days, 30 days out
With every kiss you leave a little shadow of doubt
The roof was leakin honey where we live
And Im wonderin whats that something that you wont give
I started loving you but I gotta stop
You got me mostly waitin for that other shoe to drop
30 days, 30 days out
You keep me six days runnin but Im 30 days out
30 days, 30 days out
With every kiss you leave a little shadow of doubt
Tried to talk about whats goin on
You just smile and tell me baby there aint nothin wrong
In your smile theres a sign in red
It said thousand miles of hard road dead ahead
30 days, 30 days out
Yeah Im six days runnin but Im 30 days out
30 days, 30 days out
With every kiss you leave a little shadow of doubt
30 days, 30 days out
Well Im six days runnin but Im 30 days out
30 days, 30 days out
With every kiss you leave a little shadow of doubt
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4th Of July Asbury Park (Sandy)
We fell in love and I made you the world
I spent all my time tryin' to satisfy you, girl
Just one thing that I can't figure out [?]
Closer I get, farther baby I am out [?]
30 days, 30 days out
Well I'm six days runnin' but I'm 30 days out
30 days, 30 days out
With every kiss you leave a little shadow of doubt
The roof was leakin' honey where we live
And I'm wonderin' what's that something that you won't give
I started loving you but I gotta stop
You got me mostly waitin' for that other shoe to drop
30 days, 30 days out
You keep me six days runnin' but I'm 30 days out
30 days, 30 days out
With every kiss you leave a little shadow of doubt
Tried to talk about what's goin' on
You just smile and tell me
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Town Types No.1 - The Old Town
Fierce on the wheat-sown Mallee plain
The ruthless summer suns burned down,
And dust-storms, heralding the rain,
Swept thro' the street and on again
While tradesfolk cursed in the old white town.
Of sand and line-stone stoutly built,
She'd lived to prosper and to wilt,
Because, as all wiseacres knew,
'They went and brought the railway thro'.'
Deep-voiced, bewhiskered townsfolk these,
Remnant of pioneering days,
Full of high tales and memories
Of wild, rough work and wilder sprees,
When coach and teamster went their ways;
When men pushed out to newer land
And cash came easy to the hand
And went: The golden days men knew
'Before that put that railway thro'.'
Yet even in those days of stress -
Or seeming stress - the old town knew
Nothing of wnat or wretchedness;
For wealth was there and work to bless
All men who sought them work to do.
To me, a child in those far years,
Now as a time-dimmed dream appears
The olden life that once I knew
After the railway wandered thro'.
Like myths in some long-fabled tale -
Figures and scenes to conjure with
They seem. Yet 'spite the deepening veil,
Their memories grow never stales;
Big George, the lumper; Toll, the smith;
Long John, the snob - long have they slept
While suns burned down and dustorm swept
Across the Mallee plains they knew
Before men brought the railway thro'.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Days
Miserable grey, damp wet Days
Days shorter and winters Long
Long bleak dark Evenings
Evenings as black as pitch.
Bright frosty cold Mornings
Mornings glistening in the Sun
Sun shines cold as the Day
Day soon will become night.
Snow crisp and White
White flurries fall from the Sky
Sky as white as the Day
Day fades into a crisp evening.
Days engulfed with Floods
Floods devastating your Home
Home unfit to live In
In shelter we seek comfort.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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The Roaring Days
The night too quickly passes
And we are growing old,
So let us fill our glasses
And toast the Days of Gold;
When finds of wondrous treasure
Set all the South ablaze,
And you and I were faithful mates
All through the roaring days!
Then stately ships came sailing
From every harbour's mouth,
And sought the land of promise
That beaconed in the South;
Then southward streamed their streamers
And swelled their canvas full
To speed the wildest dreamers
E'er borne in vessel's hull.
Their shining Eldorado,
Beneath the southern skies,
Was day and night for ever
Before their eager eyes.
The brooding bush, awakened,
Was stirred in wild unrest,
And all the year a human stream
Went pouring to the West.
The rough bush roads re-echoed
The bar-room's noisy din,
When troops of stalwart horsemen
Dismounted at the inn.
And oft the hearty greetings
And hearty clasp of hands
Would tell of sudden meetings
Of friends from other lands;
When, puzzled long, the new-chum
Would recognise at last,
Behind a bronzed and bearded skin,
A comrade of the past.
And when the cheery camp-fire
Explored the bush with gleams,
The camping-grounds were crowded
With caravans of teams;
Then home the jests were driven,
And good old songs were sung,
And choruses were given
The strength of heart and lung.
Oh, they were lion-hearted
Who gave our country birth!
Oh, they were of the stoutest sons
From all the lands on earth!
Oft when the camps were dreaming,
And fires began to pale,
Through rugged ranges gleaming
Would come the Royal Mail.
Behind six foaming horses,
And lit by flashing lamps,
Old `Cobb and Co.'s', in royal state,
Went dashing past the camps.
Oh, who would paint a goldfield,
And limn the picture right,
As we have often seen it
In early morning's light;
The yellow mounds of mullock
With spots of red and white,
The scattered quartz that glistened
Like diamonds in light;
The azure line of ridges,
The bush of darkest green,
The little homes of calico
That dotted all the scene.
I hear the fall of timber
From distant flats and fells,
The pealing of the anvils
As clear as little bells,
The rattle of the cradle,
The clack of windlass-boles,
The flutter of the crimson flags
Above the golden holes.
. . . . .
Ah, then our hearts were bolder,
And if Dame Fortune frowned
Our swags we'd lightly shoulder
And tramp to other ground.
But golden days are vanished,
And altered is the scene;
The diggings are deserted,
The camping-grounds are green;
The flaunting flag of progress
Is in the West unfurled,
The mighty bush with iron rails
Is tethered to the world.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Days Without You
Waking up with tears in my eyes
Knowing I may never see you again
Is like someone is stabbing me in my heart
And twisting the knife until it comes out
I know you don’t think of me
Cause you are not like that
Your too matcher for that
But I can’t to get you off my mind
It’s not fair that you can do it and
Then act like nothing happened at all
I feel like I'm being pulled apart
And you’re just fine
Or do you think of me no
No that’s what I want
And it's my entire fault
That I can’t stop thinking about you
I'm just a tramp
That can’t pass up an opportunity to get some
You are so much better then me
You deserve better then this
Then me
You deserve much more then what I can give you
I'm just a stupid teen that can’t seem to control her hormones
But I will give you all I can give you
Your wish is my command
Hours pass on by like a 300 car train
The days pass on by with out you
Like slugs crossing the road
But as slow and painful the days are with out you
Somehow I make it throw
But if I had it my way
There will not be many more days
I have to suffer with out you
Until I see you once more
But days without you
Are days with out you
And I can’t change that
I have nothing to look forward to
Other then more
And more
Days with out you
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Days
[ jackson browne ]
Ive been out walking
I dont do too much talking these days
These days, these days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do for you
And all the times I had the chance to
I had a lover
Well I dont think Ill risk another these days
These days if I seem to be afraid to live the life
That I had made in song
Well its just, its just that Ive been losing so long
Looong...well....
I stop my dreaming
I wont do too much scheming these days
These days, these days I sit on cornerstones
And count the time quarter tos til ten, my friend
Please dont confront me with my failures
I have not forgotten them
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ever have one of 'those' days
Did you ever have one of “those” days
A day at least twenty seven hours long
A day in which nothing much went right
Yet also, a day when… nothing went wrong
One of those days that does absolutely nothing’
One of those days that could have phoned itself in
One of those days you could’ve fit so much stuff in
But you didn’t…and ain’t that a sin.
A day… that had it gone any slower,
Would have started goin’ in reverse
until’ it turned into yesterday and..
What could possibly be worse?
Tomorrow would become today then
Well that’s what could go wrong!
And I’d have another one of “those” days
A day at least thirty hours long
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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