En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Savage

DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years of age,
Had killed a miner in a Leadville brawl;
Tried and condemned, the rough-beards curb their rage,
And watch him stride in freedom from the hall.

'Return on Friday, to be shot to death!'
So ran the sentence—it was Monday night.
The dead man's comrades drew a well-pleased breath;
Then all night long the gambling dens were bright.

The days sped slowly; but the Friday came,
And flocked the miners to the shooting-ground;
They chose six riflemen of deadly aim,
And with low voices sat and lounged around.

'He will not come.' 'He's not a fool.' 'The men
Who set the savage free must face the blame.'
A Choctaw brave smiled bitterly, and then
Smiled proudly, with raised head, as Dixon came.

Silent and stern—a woman at his heels;
He motions to the brave, who stays her tread.
Next minute—flame the guns: the woman reels
And drops without a moan—Dixon is dead.

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back From A Two-years' Sentence

Back from a two-years' sentence!
And though it had been ten,
You think, I were scarred no deeper
In the eyes of my fellow-men.
'My fellow-men--?' Sounds like a satire,
You think-- and I so allow,
Here in my home since childhood,
Yet more than a stranger now!

Pardon--! Not wholly a stranger--,
For I have a wife and child:
That woman has wept for two long years,
And yet last night she smiled--!
Smiled, as I leapt from the platform
Of the midnight train, and then--
All that I knew was that smile of hers,
And our babe in my arms again!

Back from a two-years' sentence--
But I've thought the whole thing through--,
A hint of it came when the bars swung back
And I looked straight up in the blue
Of the blessed skies with my hat off!
O-ho! I've a wife and child:
That woman has wept for two long years,
And yet last night she smiled!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monday Comes Around

Friday, Monday, comes around
She's a girl with the weight of the world on her big brown eyes
She's a girl who's been talking to herself to apologize
She'll never do it again she promised
But then she hasn't been all that honest
Can she trust herself to be herself
Or is she talking to herself again
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
When Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Monday comes wondering where do you run to find a second start
Where do you go when you're broke and alone and Friday falls apart
Yeah, yeah
All these questions are leaving her shaking
Can you be two girls in one
Can your heart bend this much without breaking
You know that you know and you can never have it both ways
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around
When Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Come around, when Monday comes around
Don't take it easy
Don't take it easy
Who says somebody's giving and taking, giving and taking
Everybody's taking away
(Monday comes around...)
Friday, Monday, comes around...

song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sailing To Philadelphia

[From Mark Knopfler's "Sailing To Philadelphia"]
I Am Jeremiah Dixon
I Am A Geordie Boy
A Glass Of Wine With You, Sir
And The Ladies I'll Enjoy
All Durham And Northumberland
Is Measured Up By My Own Hand
It Was My Fate From Birth
To Make My Mark Upon The Earth...
He Calls Me Charlie Mason
A Stargazer Am I
It Seems That I Was Born
To Chart The Evening Sky
They'd Cut Me Out For Baking Bread
But I Had Other Dreams Instead
This Baker's Boy From The West Country
Would Join The Royal Society...
We Are Sailing To Philadelphia
A World Away From The Coaly Tyne
Sailing To Philadelphia
To Draw The Line
The Mason-Dixon Line
Now You're A Good Surveyor, Dixon
But I Swear You'll Make Me Mad
The West Will Kill Us Both
You Gullible Geordie Lad
You Talk Of Liberty
How Can America Be Free
A Geordie And A Baker's Boy
In The Forests Of The Iroquois...
Now Hold Your Head Up, Mason
See America Lies There
The Morning Tide Has Raised
The Capes Of Delaware
Gome Up And Feel The Sun
A New Morning Is Begun
Another Day Will Make It Clear
Why Your Stars Should Guide Us Here...
We Are Sailing To Philadelphia
A World Away From The Coaly Tyne
Sailing To Philadelphia
To Draw The Line
The Mason-Dixon Line

song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stone

"And will you cut a stone for him,
To set above his head?
And will you cut a stone for him--
A stone for him?" she said.

Three days before, a splintered rock
Had struck her lover dead--
Had struck him in the quarry dead,
Where, careless of a warning call,
He loitered, while the shot was fired--
A lively stripling, brave and tall,
And sure of all his heart desired . . .
A flash, a shock,
A rumbling fall . . .
And, broken 'neath the broken rock,
A lifeless heap, with face of clay,
And still as any stone he lay,
With eyes that saw the end of all.

I went to break the news to her:
And I could hear my own heart beat
With dread of what my lips might say;
But some poor fool had sped before;
And, flinging wide her father's door,
Had blurted out the news to her,
Had struck her lover dead for her,
Had struck the girl's heart dead in her,
Had struck life, lifeless, at a word,
And dropped it at her feet:
Then hurried on his witless way,
Scarce knowing she had heard.

And when I came, she stood alone--
A woman, turned to stone:
And, though no word at all she said,
I knew that all was known.

Because her heart was dead,
She did not sigh nor moan.
His mother wept:
She could not weep.
Her lover slept:
She could not sleep.
Three days, three nights,
She did not stir:
Three days, three nights,
Were one to her,
Who never closed her eyes
From sunset to sunrise,
From dawn to evenfall--
Her tearless, staring eyes,
That, seeing naught, saw all.

The fourth night when I came from work,
I found her at my door.
"And will you cut a stone for him?"
She said: and spoke no more:
But followed me, as I went in,
And sank upon a chair;
And fixed her grey eyes on my face,
With still, unseeing stare.
And, as she waited patiently,
I could not bear to feel
Those still, grey eyes that followed me,
Those eyes that plucked the heart from me,
Those eyes that sucked the breath from me
And curdled the warm blood in me,
Those eyes that cut me to the bone,
And cut my marrow like cold steel.

And so I rose and sought a stone;
And cut it smooth and square:
And, as I worked, she sat and watched,
Beside me, in her chair.
Night after night, by candlelight,
I cut her lover's name:
Night after night, so still and white,
And like a ghost she came;
And sat beside me, in her chair,
And watched with eyes aflame.

She eyed each stroke,
And hardly stirred:
she never spoke
A single word:
And not a sound or murmur broke
The quiet, save the mallet stroke.

With still eyes ever on my hands,
With eyes that seemed to burn my hands,
My wincing, overwearied hands,
She watched, with bloodless lips apart,
And silent, indrawn breath:
And every stroke my chisel cut,
Death cut still deeper in her heart:
The two of us were chiselling,
Together, I and Death.

And when at length my job was done,
And I had laid the mallet by,
As if, at last, her peace were won,
She breathed his name, and, with a sigh,
Passed slowly through the open door:
And never crossed my threshold more.

Next night I laboured late, alone,
To cut her name upon the stone.

poem by Wilfred Wilson Gibson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friday I'm In Love

I don't care if monday's blue
Tuesday's grey and wednesday too
Thursday i don't care about you
It's friday i'm in love
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday wednesday break my heart
Thursday doesn't even start
It's friday i'm in love
Saturday wait
And sunday always comes too late
But friday never hesitate...
I don't care if monday's black
Tuesday wednesday heart attack
Thursday never looking back
It's friday i'm in love
Monday you can hold your head
Tuesday wednesday stay in bed
Or thursday watch the walls instead
It's friday i'm in love
Saturday wait
And sunday always comes too late
But friday never hesitate...
Dressed up to the eyes
It's a wonderful surprise
To see your shoes and your spirits rise
Throwing out your frown
And just smiling at the sound
And as sleek as a shriek
Spinning round and round
Always take a big bite
It's such a gorgeous sight
To see you eat in the middle of the night
You can never get enough
Enough of this stuff
It's friday
I'm in love

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friday Night

Price/price
Well i was driving in my car
With fourteen women after me
Down fifth avenue
A friday night it just to be
She was standing on the corner
Thumbing a ride
I said,: hop in baby
Scoot closer by my side
Honey let's go riding you look so exciting
Where have you been hiding?
Chorus
Friday night, feeling right
Friday night, out of sight
Friday night, friday night
There's no telling what you'll find
Cruising on a friday night
She didn't say a word
She just kept those big blue eyes on me
I wondered what she could be thinkin'
As she put her little hand on my knee
I took another sip of malted brew
And then i looked in her eyes
And as i sank into her bbaby blues
I thought my oh my
There's no use in fighting you look so exciting
Where have you been hiding girl?
Chorus
Cruising on a friday night
Cruising on a friday night
Cruising on a friday night
Cruising on a friday night

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was a man and a woman

i
There was a man and a woman
Who sinned.
Then did the man heap the punishment
All upon the head of her,
And went away gaily.

ii

There was a man and a woman
Who sinned.
And the man stood with her.
As upon her head, so upon his,
Fell blow and blow,
And all people screaming, "Fool!"
He was a brave heart.

iii

He was a brave heart.
Would you speak with him, friend?
Well, he is dead,
And there went your opportunity.
Let it be your grief
That he is dead
And your opportunity gone;
For, in that, you were a coward.

poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still Smiling........

Smiled When Mother Took Me Into Her Arms For The First Time,
Smiled When Saw World Outside The Hospital For The First Time,
Smiled Whenever Went To School,
Smiled Even Being Laughed At....
And Called A Fool....
Smiled When Stood First In The Class,
Smiled When I Wasn't Misunderstood..... At Last!
Smiled When My Poem Was Said Wow!
Smiled When Realised That Only Day Is Today....
And Time Is Now......
Smiled When Got My 'True' Love,
Smiled As I Always Felt We Are Two Doves,
Smiled Even When Came To Know He's Not Mine,
Smiled Even When He Married My Friend.....
And Raised A Toast Of Wine,
Smiled Even When Lost Every Hope,
Smiled Even When Wasn't Able To Cope,
Smiled Even When Knew My End Is Near,
Smiled And Enjoyed Cutting My Nerve.......
No Fear...............
Smiled At Every Moment Of My Life,
Whenever, Wherever And Never Cried.............

But Now, I'm Lying Under A White Cover,
Father Putting Me On Fire.........
With No Blessings Left To Shower.....
People Around Have Nothing To Do With My Death
But Are Crying.........
And I'm............
Still Smiling.................................

poem by Apurva Jain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dynamite

(r. stewart/a. taylor)
Oh, look out baby!
I got a stupid little job
Its driving me insane
With those keyhole people
All they do is complain
About the tattoo on my arm
The ring in my ear
But I dont even care, no no
I just live through the week
And when I see them boys
You know their two-tone suits
Theyre all unimportants
If you need a set of hubcaps
Or a car painted
Girl, why dont you follow me
Its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Yeah dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Play some sweet guitar, yeah
Well we meet on the corner
And we talk all night
About our wealth situation
At a rockn roll dive
We dont reach no conclusion
So the conversation turns to wise girls
And more pearls
I got a beat up old mustang
And I painted it black
Theres five in the front seat
And the rest in the back
Cruise up and down sunset
And watch all the jailbait roll by
Yeah its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Yeah yeah, its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, its all right
All right, all right, all right
All right
Are you ready baby, bring it on down now
Watch it, well, well, well
Listen, one of these days
And it wont be long
Gonna hear that radio
Playing my song
Ill be the darling of masses
No great pretender, not me, yeah yeah
Cause I can play this guitar
Hangin round my neck
Im in love with its power
I believe in its strength
I got a head full of ideas
Its driving me insane
But until then
Its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
Yeah dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
All right, all right, one time
Its dynamite, oh yes its dynamite
Its just dynamite on friday night
Its dynamite, its on friday night
Oh friday night
Its all right, all right, wired
Its dynamite on friday night
Under the big city lights
Its all right, all right
All together ...

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Friday

Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
Every Friday I look like a shit,
I loooooooook like a shit.

But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
But every Monday I am like a horn,
I aaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooorn.

I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
I work in the office of intercom,
Of iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinter cooooooom.

But every Monday I am like a horn,
And every Tuesday I am like a horn,
On Wednesday and Tuesday I am a horn,
I aaaaaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooooorn.

On every Friday I look like a shit,
My salary is more now a little bit.
But every Monday I am like a horn,
It looks as on Sunday I was born.

On Friday morning I am so glad
That by the evening I’ll look like a fad
Or may be like a dirty pig
Trying the ground to dig, dig, dig.

But…every Monday I am like a horn,
On certain Sunday I was born,
And every Friday I am like a shit.
My life is better........, a little bit.

More or less
It was my sincere confess.
Lol, lol, lol and loooooooool.
On every Friday there is no control.

©Larisa Rzhepishevska
March 16th,2011

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Party People... Friday Night

Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Just another day, sitting watching the clock
Tick tock, tick tock, but it feels like its stopped
Wishing time away, pushing monday through to friday
Im dreaming of the crowd; everybodys hanging out
Soft tops down, and were pumping the sounds
I can feel the vibe as were cruising the town
I cant wait til friday comes around
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
So, you all ready?
We just keep rocking on
Feeling good
Just til the break of dawn
Do what I gotta do, Ill do what they say,
But I swear that ship is coming my way
Im gonna kiss this place goodbye
Im gonna chase my destiny
Im gonna make it friday every day
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Bring, bring, telephone rings; tell me, baby, what youre saying
I know, sometimes, its hard to take it; trust me, baby, just believe
It
Monday, I know it goes so slow; tuesday, oh, I just dont know
Wednesday drives you crazy; thursdays over, man, its friday
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night

song performed by by 911
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jean Chouan

The Whites fled, and the Blues fired down the glade.
A hill the plain commanded and surveyed,
And round this hill, of trees and verdure bare,
Wild forests closed th' horizon everywhere.
Safe hold and rampart were behind the mount:
There the Whites halt, and their small numbers count.
Jean Chouan rose, his long hair floating free:
'None can be dead, since here our chief we see,'
They cried. Jean Chouan listened to the shot:
'Are any missing? No! Then tarry not,
But fly!' Around him women, children stood,
In terror. 'Sons, re-entering quick the wood,
Disperse yourselves!' As swallows scattering fly
On rapid wings when storms invade the sky,
They fled to thickets drowned in mist and shade,
And ran,—e'en brave men run when they're afraid.
Dread the disorder, when in trembling flight
Old men and infants at the breast unite,
Fearing or to be killed, or captive ta'en.
Jean Chouan, last, did with slow steps remain,
And often turned him back, and made a prayer.

Sudden, a cry within the glade you hear!
A woman 'mid a storm of bullets stood.
Already the whole band was in the wood;
Jean Chouan only stays. He turns, and sees
A woman burdened. Pale and weak, she flies;
Her naked feet, torn by the brambles, bleed;
She's all alone, and cries, 'To help me, speed!'
Jean Chouan mutters, ''T is Jeanne Madeleine.'
In line of shot, in middle of the plain,
On her the bullets with fierce fury pour.
Ah! God himself must bend the victim o'er,
And take her hand, and shelter 'neath his wing.
Death does such numerous darts around her fling,
She must be lost. 'There, help!' she loudly cries;
But fugitives are deaf, and fear denies.
The balls upon the helpless peasant ran.

Then on the hill which dominates the plain,
Jean Chouan bounded, manly, calm, and proud,
Dauntless. 'I am Jean Chouan!' called he loud.
The Blues cried, ''T is the chief!' and that brave form,
Engrossing all the thunder and storm,
Made Death his target change. 'Now take to flight!
He shouts; 'save yourself, sister!' Mad with fright.
Jeanne sped into the wood, her life to save.
Like pine on snow, or mast upon the wave,
Jean Chouan, whom death seemed to fascinate,
Drew up. The Blues see only him. 'I wait
What time your safety needs. Go, daughter, go!
Joy 'mong your kindred you again shall know,
Again sweet blossoms in your bodice place.'
And he alone it was who then did face
The storm of shot which fell on his great height,
Which seemed as if e'en then would win the fight.
The balls fell thick as hail. With scornful eye
He smiled and raised his sword, when suddenly,
As a bear struck in cavern deep and wide,
He felt a ball pierce thro' and thro' his side.
He stood, and said, ''T is well. Hail, Mary, maid!'
Then staggering towards the wood, he turned his head:
'Friends! friends! has Jeanne your shelter reached?' he cried.
'She's safe!' the voices from the wood replied.
Jean Chouan murmured, 'Good!' and dead he fell.

Peasant, O peasants! True, ye chose not well,
But still your memory has not lessened France.
Great were ye in your fierce, dark ignorance,—
Ye, whom your kings, wolves, priests, and savage wood
Made bandits of, were valiant knights and good.
Through all your frightful yoke and errors foul
You had mysterious flashes of the soul;
Bright rays at times from out your blindness flew.
Hail! I, the banished, am not hard on you:
Exile!—I know the cottage roof to spare.
We are proscribed, and you but phantoms are!
Brothers, we all have battled, but we sought
The future; you, benighted lions! fought
To keep the past. We strove to climb the height;
You strove no less to sink in gulfs of night.
All warred, and martyrs were, by different course,
Without ambition and without remorse,—
We to shut hell, you to keep wide the tomb.
Yet on your brows from high does radiance come;
Fraternal love and pity can unite
The sons of day with children of the night.
And Hero of the Darkness! in this lay
For you I mourn,—I, Soldier of the Day.

poem by Victor Hugo
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10:10 A.M.

10: 10 AM

by Inro Lavil

09-13-12

Woman, Woman
This may be respectful but you held me an extra month
Three blood gushed out before I was beamed by
Sunlight and you were not in a right time to deliver
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I might be adamant but you molded me too early
I might be the biggest fool on this world
And I hated it when you made me intelligent like them
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I might be so selfish but you still treated me normal
I'm not normal since I am an extra month held by you
And everyone looks at me with piercing eyes
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I did my best but you angrily pushed me to be more of me
I wanted to do this and that but your eyes always watched me
Like you're some kind of omniscient being in clouds
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I was not prepared but why did you leave me abruptly?
All these tupperwares around me hid to me your stains
The name of the pain that you have also hidden to me
Woman, why did you betray me?

Woman, Woman
Your loss gave me no Merry Christmas since you left me
I had two graduations you failed to attend and now
The third is coming, when will I hear you're proud of me?
Woman, why did you leave me?

Woman, Woman
I am free to choose my path but yours is still the one
The one I still chose since you're not here, I will
Run the steps you have walked and try to surpass them
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I was waiting for you on the gate every afternoon you came
Now that you are not here, no one is asking me today
'How's your day? ' which I've done when you're still here
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
How will I move on from you when the life I chose is yours?
How will I know that you are proud of me or glad
Of all the achievements I got most of which I've done for you?
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I have never understood how much love you have given me
Since 10: 10 AM of April until 11: 10 AM of the 13th day
Of November almost eight years ago, maybe beyond my birth
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I can be considered mature but I still lone for your kiss
I still blame you for things I can't do but still thank
You because you taught me that freedom is not really free
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I call you woman because I want to how show you I'm big now
But I still long to call you Mama, yet
No ears will be a landing place for those words now
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, how can I return the love you've shown
When you are already inside that concrete box and
Your soul's somewhere far from where I stand now

poem by Inro Lavil
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A Quiet Night With The Boys

Weekends weekends everywhere
And quite a lot to drink
The sobriety of weekdays
Is something that i think
Is balanced by those other days
When elephants seem pink
Monday was a sober day
And Tuesday too as well
Wedneday it got really hard
And Thursday felt like hell
Friday started peacefully
But then came Friday night
Which started off a weekend
Of not feeling too bright
Why do we even tolerate
Such obvious abuse
I spent three hours this morning
Just looking for my shoes
I felt quite young and sprightly
Last night at half past one
But come ten o'clock this morning
My head felt like a bomb
Had been let off right inside it
That clamouring of noise
When all it was just going to be
Was a quiet night with the boys.

poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friday Let Me Down

Lyrics: daryl hall, john oates, sara allen
Music: john oates
Dial your number
Tape reply:
Im not at home right now, but leave your name
And I will call you friday night. call you friday good bye.
Hearing you and waiting make the days drag slowly
On the phone, oh no the tape again
Dont say not at home, no way
Friday let me down tonight
Weekend comes I try again
I hear the same recording
Hasnt changed
Im not at home right now. leave your name and I will call you.
Friday let me down tonight.

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faith II

THROUGH the long night, the deathlong night,
Along the dark and haunted way,
I knew your hidden face was bright--
More bright than any day.

And when the faint, insistent moan
Rose from some weed-grown wayside grave,
I said, 'I do not walk alone;
'Tis easy to be brave.

I never turned to speak with you,
For all the way was dark and long,
But all the shadows' menace through
Your silence was my song.

I never sought to take your hand,
For all the way was long and rough;
I taught my soul to understand
That love was strength enough.

Then, suddenly, the ghosts drew near,
A ghastly, gliding, tomb-white band;
I called aloud for you to hear,
My hand besought your hand.

No voice, no touch--the thin ghosts glide
Where in my dream I dreamed you were--
Night, night, you are not by my side,
You never have been there!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Saturday Night

(chuck cannon/jimmy stewart)
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y
I gotta get out of these coveralls
Theyre throwin a dance at the union hall
I just got paid so I got a little cash
I been workin all week gonna have me a blast
Monday, tuesday, humpday, wednesday, thursday, friday
Take up all of my life, and that aint right
I get my rest on sunday
But I have a little fun on saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y
Im gonna wash and wax my truck
I got a date with lady luck
She gonna wear her dancin shoes
And we gonna get just a little footloose
Monday, tuesday, humpday, wednesday, thursday, friday
Take up all of my life, and that aint right
I get my rest on sunday
Then I have a little fun on saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night
Saturday night
Well the band just played their last song
But me and my baby gonna party on, you know thats right
Gonna find another place with a neon light
Cant go home its saturday night
Monday, tuesday, humpday, wednesday, thursday, friday
Take up all of my life, and that aint right
I take my rest on sunday
Then I have a lot of fun on saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y, saturday night
S.a.t.u.r. all dressed up saturday night
S.a.t.u.r. ready saturday night
S.a.t.u.r.d.a.y all dressed up, ready to go, come on baby lets hit the road

song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Grieving Mother

The patriots celebrating the war has been won
But the grieving mother weeps for her dead son
Who died a young hero in a war far away
His twenty third birthday it would be today.

Out of the young war dead war heroes are made
This morning she did not go to watch the parade
Instead she placed flowers on the grave where her son lay
And knelt on the grass for awhile for to pray.

She sees her son's death as a waste of a good young life
He never had the chance to make the young woman he loved his wife
He surely would have made a wonderful dad
One of the joys in life that he never had.

Today had he been alive he'd have been twenty three
Her son was a brave man none braver than he
She wept at his grave whilst through the streets of the town
The patriots did proudly parade up and down.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friday Mourning

Friday mourning
I'm dressed in black
Douse the houselights
I'm not coming back
For years I warned you
Through tears I told you
Friday mourning
There comes a time
A flaw that breaks
This very smug mug of mine
This dawn raid
Soon put paid to all the things
I whispered to you at night time
And I will never stand naked
In front of you, or if I do
It won't be for a long time
Look once to me, Look once to me - then look away
Look once to me, Look once to me - then look away
And when they haul me down the hall
And when they kick me down the stairs
I see the faces all lined up before me
Of teachers and of parents
And bosses, who
All share a point of view
"You are a loser"
"You are a loser"
Friday / Friday mourning
Dressed in black
I won't be coming back
Friday / Friday mourning
Dressed in black
I won't be coming back

song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Street

Sometimes when I'm walking down this lonely street,
Well, it sure don't seem like twenty years,
Since I went walking down this lonely street
And the smell of perfumed ladies filled the air
This street ain't got no name, dead end is in the river,
And I lived where I hated life day by day,
There wasn't nothing I could do to shake a cold night shiver,
'Cause to move up Lonely Street you had to have some say
Gambling is bad luck down on Lonely Street
And it sure ain't no place to be when a man gets sore
You know I killed a man and I paid all I can,
With twenty years on a chain gang,
For the flesh and the blood on that jailhouse floor
Sometimes when I'm walking down this lonely street
I get caught up in a dream that won't let me go
And as the bright lights flash up and down this lonely street
My mind rolls back the years long time ago
I see my baby stumblin' around with tears in her eyes
And as I reach out for her she falls on the floor
She mumbles through bloody lips about a bad man, robber, raper,
And in my gut I know I got one to score
The word was comin' down, down on Lonely Street
That the bad man was a dead man if he crossed my trail
Every night I'd walk up and down this Lonely Street
I get stinkin' drunk, and always in jail,
One night they threw me in with a man they called the mangler
He was caught on the street makin' some old whore,
I remember he was quite proud of that,
So half-crazed I shot him,
And I cried in the blood on that jailhouse floor

song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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