Those Foreign Engineers
Old Ivan McIvanovitch, with knitted brow of care,
Has climbed up from the engine-room to get a breath of air;
He slowly wipes the grease and sweat from hairy face and neck.
And from beneath his bushy brows he glowers around the deck.
The weirdest Russian in the fleet, whose words are strange to hear,
He seems to run the battleship, though but an engineer.
He is not great, he has no rank, and he is far from rich—
’Tis strange the admiral salutes old McIvanovitch.
He gives the order ‘Whusky!’ ere he goes below once more—
And ‘Whusky’ is a Russian word I never heard before;
Perhaps some Tartar dialect, because, you know, you’ll meet
Some very various Muscovites aboard the Baltic fleet.
And on another battleship that sailed out from Japan
The boss of all the engineers, you’ll find another man
With flaming hair and eyes like steel, and he is six-foot three—
His name is Jock McNogo, and a fearsome Jap is he.
He wears a beard upon his chest, his face you won’t forget,
His like was never found amongst the heathen idols yet;
His words are awesome words to hear, his lightest smile is grim,
And daily in the engine-room the heathen bow to him.
Now, if the fleets meet in the North and settle matters there,
Say, how will McIvanovitch and Jock McNogo fare?
But if you ken that Russian and that Jap, you needn’t fret,
They’ll hae a drap, or maybe twa, some nicht in Glesca yet.
Those foreigners will ship again aboard some foreign boat,
And do their best to drive her through and keep the tub afloat.
They’ll stir the foreign greasers up and prove from whence they came—
And all to win the bawbees for the wife and bairns at hame.
poem by Henry Lawson

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Related quotes
That crazy Russian
I heard the words that crazy Russian
Used together so many times
There is a chance they will stick together
In some foreign language, in a strange parlance
Like the bittersweet is not sweet or bitter
A strange tasting mix that is hard to describe
That crazy Russian is a complex expression
Where rules of language are hard to abide
Defying the norms, despite expectations
That crazy Russian is the last to stand
When money and power are driving forces
That is hard to imagine and understand
You made him a slave… So, slaves are in fashion
One likes it better, when one is on top
But, please, don’t blame that crazy Russian
The higher you climb, the harder the drop
***
December 20,2009
poem by Slava Olchevski

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Steam Engine
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Produced by: chip douglas
Mr. engineer, slow the engine down some more.
Youre movin just a little too fast,
Ive got my foot down clear to the floor.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
Mr. engineer, you see Ive got a little problem here.
My baby, shes aboard your train,
She says shes never comin back again.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
She told me good bye, she said Im leavin you behind.
I think Im gonna die, if I hear that whistle whine.
Mr. engineer, slow the engine down some more.
Youre movin movin just a little too fast,
Ive got my foot down clear to the floor.
Steam engine, engine 99
Steam drivers, rollin right on by.
(steam engines)gotta keep on keep on rollin.
(steam engines)shes gonna leave me behind.
(steam engines)i might as well go home.
(steam engines)shes gonna leave me behind.
(steam engines)i might as well go home.
song performed by by Monkees

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jock
There's a soldier that's been doing of his share
In the fighting up and down and round about.
He's continually marching here and there,
And he's fighting, morning in and morning out.
The Boer, you see, he generally runs;
But sometimes, when he hides behind a rock,
And we can't make no impression with the guns,
Oh, then you'll hear the order, "Send for Jock!"
Yes -- it's Jock -- Scotch Jock.
He's the fellow that can give or take a knock.
For he's hairy and he's hard,
And his feet are by the yard,
And his face is like the face what's on a clock.
But when the bullets fly you will mostly hear the cry --
"Send for Jock!"
The Cavalry have gun and sword and lance;
Before they choose their weapon, why, they're dead.
The Mounted Foot are hampered in advance
By holding of their helmets on their head.
And, when the Boer has dug himself a trench
And placed his Maxim gun behind a rock,
These mounted heroes -- pets of Johnny French --
They have to sit and wait and send for Jock!
Yes, the Jocks -- Scotch Jocks,
With their music that'd terrify an ox!
When the bullets kick the sand
You can hear the sharp command --
"Forty-Second! At the double! Charge the rocks!"
And the charge is like a hood
When they warmed the Highland blood
Of the Jocks!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

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The Fall of Jock Gillespie
This fell when dinner-time was done --
'Twixt the first an' the second rub --
That oor mon Jock cam' hame again
To his rooms ahist the Club.
An' syne he laughed, an' syne he sang,
An' syne we thocht him fou,
An' syne he trumped his partner's trick,
An' garred his partner rue.
Then up and spake an elder mon,
That held the Spade its Ace --
God save the lad! Whence comes the licht
"That wimples on his face?"
An' Jock he sniggered, an' Jock he smiled,
An' ower the card-brim wunk: --
"I'm a' too fresh fra' the stirrup-peg,
"May be that I am drunk."
"There's whusky brewed in Galashils
"An' L. L. L. forbye;
"But never liquor lit the lowe
"That keeks fra' oot your eye.
"There's a third o' hair on your dress-coat breast,
"Aboon the heart a wee?"
"Oh! that is fra' the lang-haired Skye
"That slobbers ower me."
"Oh! lang-haired Skyes are lovin' beasts,
"An' terrier dogs are fair,
"But never yet was terrier born,
"Wi' ell-lang gowden hair!
"There's a smirch o' pouther on your breast,
"Below the left lappel?"
"Oh! that is fra' my auld cigar,
"Whenas the stump-end fell."
"Mon Jock, ye smoke the Trichi coarse,
"For ye are short o' cash,
"An' best Havanas Couldna leave
"Sae white an' pure an ash.
"This nicht ye stopped a story braid,
"An' stopped it wi' a curse.
"Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel' --
"An' capped it wi' a worse!
"Oh! we're no fou! Oh! we're no fou!
"But plainly we can ken
"Ye're fallin', fallin' fra the band
"O' cantie single men!"
An' it fell when sirris-shaws were sere,
An' the nichts were lang and mirk,
In braw new breeks, wi' a gowden ring,
Oor Jocke gaed to the Kirk!
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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On The Atchison, Topeka & The Sante Fe
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Do you hear that whistle down the line
I figure that its engine number 49
Shes the only one thatll sound that way
On the atchison, topeka and the santa fe
See the old smoke rising round the bend
I reckon that she knows shes gonna meet a friend
Folks around these parts set the time of day
From the atchison, topeka and the santa fe
Here she comes whoo oo oo oo
Hey jim, you better get the rig whoo oo oo oo
Shes got a list of passengers thats pretty big
And theyll all want a lift to browns hotel
cause lots of them been traveling for quite a spell
All the way from philadel phi a
On the atchison, topeka and the santa fe
All aboard! all aboard!
Let her rip, let her rip, mr. engineer
Gotta go, gotta go far away from here
While the man at the fire, shovels in the coals
Stick your head out the cab and watch the drivers roll
See the towns and the roads go a whizzing by
Fare-the-well laramie and rocky mountain high
Yes sirree, here we are, going all the way
Mustnt quit till we hit califor ni a
See the old smoke rising round the bend
I reckon that she knows shes gonna meet a friend
Folks around these parts set the time of day
From the atchison, topeka and the santa fe
Words and music by johnny mercer and harry warren
song performed by by John Denver

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Russian Girl
Ive been frozen, now its so hot I can barely see
Ive been cutting them down so they cant make fun of me, yeah
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Young child sitting all alone
Hot child, she wants to take you home
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Russian girl, Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
song performed by by Liz Phair

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Crusher
Now I wanna wrestle in the garden
I'm on my way to stardom
I know I'm ready I know I'm great
But first I have to get in shape
Cause I've got my eyes on the Russian Bear
Gonna tear him up I swear
This guy thinks he's the champion
Gonna take his belt and beat him!
I'm the crusher king of the ring
I'm ready for a match with the Russian Bear
Gonna pile drive him pull his hair
I might have a foreign object in my trunks
I might have to use on that punk
Got the hardest hold you can put on anyone
If you're my victim you're beaten
I'm a lean mean fighting machine
Powerful and strong like King Kong
I'm the crusher king of the ring
Started having second thought I was scared as hell
The last thing I wanted was to hear them ring the bell
I mean the Russian Bear could probably
tear me limb from limb
He'd probably grin be real happy with himself
This is not good for my health
I'm not coming out of the dressing room
And get beaten up by that goon
Go back to Russia go back home!
Don't wanna get a broken bone
Or a lump on my head
Ain't gonna hide under the bed
I'm the crusher king of the ring
I'm the Crusher
song performed by by Ramones

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All Souls Day
All Souls Day
Suddenly a big hole opened up in the sea, the ship sank into it; the vessel
rests on the bottom where shiny star fish light up the dark before they are
swallowed by sharks.The captain on his bridge, cook in his galley, the first
engineer in the engine room, as it was dinner time when she sank, her crew
are in the mess room, dancing ghoulishly around as the sea gently sighs.
And sometimes the skeletal face of the deck boy peeks through a porthole
asks when the ship arrives in New York, a girlfriend waiting for him; there is
a moment of hilarity as dead sailors’ moves about free of man’s burden.
The cook rests in a in a large pot tells himself he must wake up, bake bread
and do the bloody the dishes as he tries to get his cigarette lighter to work.
Her captain bobs up and down trying to find his charts, maps of the oceans
currents and wonders why the radar isn’t working. The engineer is trying to
find out why the engine stalled. I knew them all, but dastardly left them in
Rio de Janeiro just because I met a girl called Maria.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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The Crusher
Now I wanna wrestle in the garden
I'm on my way to stardom
I know I'm ready I know I'm great
But first I've got to get in shape
Cause I got my eye on the Russian Bear
Gonna tear him up I swear
This guy thinks he's the champion
Gonna take his belt and gonna beat him!
I'm the crusher king of the ring (4x)
I'm ready for a match with the Russian Bear
Gonna pile drive him pull his hair
I might have a foreign object in my trunks
I might have to use on that punk
Got the hardest hold you can put on anyone
If you're my victim you're beaten
I'm a lean mean fighting machine
Powerful and strong like King Kong
I'm the crusher king of the ring (4x)
Started having second thoughts I was scared as hell
The last thing I wanted was to hear them ring the bell
I mean the Russian Bear could probably tear me limb from limb
He'd probably grin be real happy with himself
This is not good for my health
I'm not coming out of this dressing room
And get beaten up by that goon
Go back to Russia go back home!
Don't wanna get a broken bone
Or a lump on my head
I ain't gonna hide under the bed
I'm the crusher king of the ring (4x)
I'm the crusher
I'm the crusher
Yeah me to know
song performed by by Ramones from Adios Amigos

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet IX
TO THE COUNTESS HELÉNE ZAVADOWSKY.
WHEN our young Queen put on her rightful crown
In Gothic Westminster's long-hallow'd walls,
The eye upon no lovelier sight look'd down
Than thou, fair Russian! Memory still recalls
The soft light of thy sapphire-colour'd eyes,
The rich twine of thy simply-braided hair,
And the low murmur of the crowd's surprise
To see thee pass along so strangely fair.
Nor didst thou charm by looks and smiles alone,--
Thy 'broken English' had its share of grace;
For something in thy accent and thy tone
So match'd the beauty of thy gentle face,
We seem'd to hear our old familiar words
Set to some foreign lute or harp's melodious chords!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

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The Golden Boat
Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain.
I sit on the river bank, sad and alone.
The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended,
The river is swollen and fierce in its flow.
As we cut the paddy it started to rain.
One small paddy-field, no one but me -
Flood-waters twisting and swirling everywhere.
Trees on the far bank; smear shadows like ink
On a village painted on deep morning grey.
On this side a paddy-field, no one but me.
Who is this, steering close to the shore
Singing? I feel that she is someone I know.
The sails are filled wide, she gazes ahead,
Waves break helplessly against the boat each side.
I watch and feel I have seen her face before.
Oh to what foreign land do you sail?
Come to the bank and moor your boat for a while.
Go where you want to, give where you care to,
But come to the bank a moment, show your smile -
Take away my golden paddy when you sail.
Take it, take as much as you can load.
Is there more? No, none, I have put it aboard.
My intense labour here by the river -
I have parted with it all, layer upon layer;
Now take me as well, be kind, take me aboard.
No room, no room, the boat is too small.
Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full.
Across the rain-sky clouds heave to and fro,
On the bare river-bank, I remain alone -
What had has gone: the golden boat took all.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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Grey Wolves Grey
The Russian march is soft and slow,
Through dust and heat, or slush and snow,
When the Russian skies hang grey and low
To the frontiers far where the Russians go;
And they march to-night and they march to-day
Like the grey wolves grey, like the grey wolves grey.
Nor song nor sound their track reveals,
Save the ceaseless “clock” of the waggon wheels;
But a rift in the mist shows a glint of sun
On the long, dark shape of a toiling gun;
And they strain by night and they drag by day
To a distant goal, like the grey wolves grey.
As the horses toil at the ends of trains,
And the ends of roads on the Blacksoil Plains.
And Ivan digs in the frozen clay,
And he rolls the logs a bed to lay
For a gun that’s five hundred miles away,
But as sure to come as the grey wolves grey.
He is marching on with a purpose grand,
For brother Slav in another land;
Whose tongue, perchance, he cannot understand.—
But he knows the cry from the far-away,
And he smells the blood like the grey wolves grey.
And Ivan’s wife in her den at home,
While hunger looms and his lean wolves come—
With her grey-black bread like the Darling mud,
And her tea-bricks bound with the bullock’s blood—
She shields her cubs by night and day
Like the crouching sluts of the grey wolves grey.
And I march with Ivan where’er he be,
With the foreign blood that is strong in me,
And the love and the hate that is fantasy,
Like the ghosts of a father’s memory.
With the blood that is strange to us to-day
As the strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey.
Grey wolves,
Grey wolves—
The strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey.
poem by Henry Lawson

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Thats Him Over There
I see your face in this room full of faces,
Im trying hard not to stare,
Strange to see you again, here of all places,
Thats him over there.
My baby looks the same as he did when I met him,
Id know that laugh anywhere,
It was foolish of me to think Id forget him,
Thats him over there.
I wish I could be the girl at his side,
The one who has taken my place,
Can everyone see what Im trying to hide,
Isnt it written all over my face?
I guess that you kow what extremes I have gone to,
To prove that I didnt care,
You were so anxious to meet the dream Ive hung onto,
Well, thats him, thats my jim, over there.
song performed by by Nina Simone, music by Marilyn Bergman, Lew Spence

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under Your Breath
Hangin' in the underground
Before a train back out of town
Away from you
All the lights that disappear
In the tunnels way down here
It's quite a view
Sometimes I wish I were deaf
Then I wouldn't hear the words you say
Under your breath
Under your breath
Locked away in your room
On the phone with someone who
She thinks out loud
Thought she found the right to leave
Think of the things you used to need
And I'd run out
Sometimes I wish I were deaf
But I hear the words you say
Under your breath
Under your breath
Anything that you put on me
All the things your head needs, You believe
Read my mind 'Cause I can't say anything
The sick heart potion
Two parts pain
One part true again
Sometimes I wish I were deaf
But I hear the words you say
Under your breath
Under your breath
song performed by by Whiskeytown

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Under Your Breath
Hangin' in the underground
Before a train back out of town
Away from you
All the lights that disappear
In the tunnels way down here
It's quite a view
Sometimes I wish I were deaf
Then I wouldn't hear the words you say
Under your breath
Under your breath
Locked away in your room
On the phone with someone who
She thinks out loud
Thought she found the right to leave
Think of the things you used to need
And I'd run out
Sometimes I wish I were deaf
But I hear the words you say
Under your breath
Under your breath
Anything that you put on me
All the things your head needs, You believe
Read my mind 'Cause I can't say anything
The sick heart potion
Two parts pain
One part true again
Sometimes I wish I were deaf
But I hear the words you say
Under your breath
Under your breath
song performed by by Whiskeytown

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Admiral Death
Boys, are ye calling a toast to-night?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
Fill for a bumper strong and bright,
And here's to Admiral Death!
He's sailed in a hundred builds o' boat,
He's fought in a thousand kinds o' coat,
He's the senior flag of all that float,
And his name's Admiral Death!
Which of you looks for a service free?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
The rules o' the service are but three
When ye sail with Admiral Death.
Steady your hand in time o' squalls,
Stand to the last by him that falls,
And answer clear to the voice that calls,
'Ay, Ay! Admiral Death!'
How will ye know him among the rest?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
By the glint o' the stars that cover his breast
Ye may find Admiral Death.
By the forehead grim with an ancient scar,
By the voice that rolls like thunder far,
By the tenderest eyes of all that are,
Ye may know Admiral Death.
Where are the lads that sailed before?
(Hear what the sea-wind saith)
Their bones are white by many a shore,
They sleep with Admiral Death.
Oh! but they loved him, young and old,
For he left the laggard, and took the bold,
And the fight was fought, and the story's told,
And they sleep with Admiral Death.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt

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Russian Roulette
Take it or leave it Ive heard it been said
All this spring fevers just way over my head
Stealing my moments, taking up all my time
Its playing russian roulette with my mind
Its none of my business baby just whats going on
Im not going to wait till somebody throw me a bone
Im way out on a limb now, and nothing seems to rhyme
Its playing russian roulette with my mind
I think that youve caught on, that youve been used and all
Im going down new orleans, Ive got to see dr. john
Got my mojo working everything will be fine
Stop playing russian roulette with my mind
Its not easy baby when everything starts getting out of control
Hang on your hat now, hang on to your soul
Dont worry baby, I wanna throw you the line
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
Too many hustlers, Ive been here before
None of them really know just who that you are
Everything gets contracted and space gets confined
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette
Theyre playing russian roulette with your mind
song performed by by Van Morrison

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Russian Lullaby
Where the dreamy volga flows
Theres a lonely russian rose
Gazing tenderly
Down upon her knee
Where a babys brown eyes glisten
Listen
Evry night youll hear her croon
A russian lullaby
Just a little plaintive tune
When baby starts to cry
Rock-a-bye my baby
Somewhere there may be
A land thats free for you and me
And a russian lullaby
song performed by by Irving Berlin

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Sweet William's Farewell to Black-ey'd Susan: A Ballad
1 All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
2 The streamers waving in the wind,
3 When black-ey'd Susan came aboard.
4 Oh! where shall I my true love find!
5 Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
6 If my sweet William sails among the crew.
7 William, who high upon the yard,
8 Rock'd with the billow to and fro,
9 Soon as her well-known voice he heard,
10 He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below:
11 The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,
12 And, (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.
13 So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,
14 Shuts close his pinions to his breast,
15 (If, chance, his mate's shrill call he hear)
16 And drops at once into her nest.
17 The noblest captain in the British fleet,
18 Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.
19 'O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,
20 My vows shall ever true remain;
21 Let me kiss off that falling tear,
22 We only part to meet again.
23 Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be
24 The faithful compass that still points to thee.
25 'Believe not what the landmen say,
26 Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind:
27 They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,
28 In ev'ry port a mistress find.
29 Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
30 For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.
31 'If to far India's coast we sail,
32 Thy eyes are seen in di'monds bright,
33 Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,
34 Thy skin is ivory, so white.
35 Thus ev'ry beauteous object that I view,
36 Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.
37 'Though battle call me from thy arms
38 Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
39 Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms,
40 William shall to his dear return.
41 Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
42 Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye'.
43 The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
44 The sails their swelling bosom spread,
45 No longer must she stay aboard:
46 They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head.
47 Her less'ning boat, unwilling rows to land:
48 'Adieu', she cries! and wav'd her lily hand.
The Skeleton & The Roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
I am the fairground man at heart
I run the roundabout this part
I fill this fair but custom have I none
I turn the handle round so fast it makes my elbow ache
Nobody seems to care
No-one rides upon my roundabout no longer anymore
Oh what a horrid fair!
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Money there is none - Im thinner than a skeleton
But wait a minute, Im so thin
That all these aches and pains could be a chance for me
I could be a horror or a ghost in a ghost train
I think Ill go and see
I meet the man who runs the ghost train
He says, youre just great!
Ill pay you top class wages
If youll just hang from this gate
A year is passing lots of food and money come my way
Oh lucky man am i
But whos this telling me, youre fired!
Youre much too fat to be a ghost, be on your way!
So here I am
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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