The City is a Poet
Church basements with AA meetings
Creeds have reached into the walls
Moved by the coffee shop art
Farmers market with no GMO's
Organic friends and underground papers
Open museums alive with symbols
The rivers and old train depot
I buy you a flower for your hair
We glide down sun set streets
Castles and stores
Mannequins dressed for a haberdashery
Garlic bread and wine
High heels click like clocks
A kiss under the cathedral lights
I am the university
You are the plays
These stones quarried in blues
The jazz of urban night
Papers, names, street signs, ghosts
Grave yards like whispering time
They all come out in the bells
The city is a poet
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Bed of Ghosts
Red wolves under the purple moon
She sighs like the wet tide
I have entered a dark door
Parallax lace tubes of silk
Covered in her golden pain
Eyes like castles of strange stone
Walls as high as broken glass
Maybe awakenings are over
Maybe the end is just a mirror
Is love another passport to pain
Now the circus bells sound like thunder
Pigeons feed on park benches
She loves gargoyles on the old church
We walk shrouded in rain
Panhandlers amidst the saved
Gothic lights from a forest of gray
Her red 5-inch heels click the cement
Everyone in a role
Everyone caught like a bomb shelter
We wait for a libido of silk doom
True love like a frozen river
Time settles sand in valleys of sorrow
Childhood oaks with boughs of dreams
No refuge in the ancient masks
Old swings where children played
First friends with granite memories
Joy like a vague painting, a wish
We hold hands under the lost neon
We talk of a future that already is gone
Make love to the images of silver swords
She loves midnight when darkness plays
The romance of Ann Rice
Vampires with garter belts
Moons that seem to melt into whips
Actors of Eugene O’Neil
Tennessee Williams and Poe
Blues and jazz as sultry as eyeliner
We kiss like wild wolves
Lioness that prowls these streets
I lay on a bed of ghosts
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Depot Street
I live on the west side, by the county reservoir
And she lives down on depot street, behind the city hall
Behind the city hall
Her fathers name is macintosh, her mothers name is pearl
And they live down on depot street, shes my little girl
Shes my little girl
Down on depot street, Im gonna see my baby
Depot street, Im gonna see my girl
Depot street, baby, baby, baby
Depot street, behind the city hall
We aint got no money, we dont have no car
We stay down on depot street, just dancin in the park
Dancin in the park
And her sister doesnt like me, but I dont really care
I know the only reason is she wants me for herself
She wants me for herself
Down on depot street, Im gonna see my baby
Depot street, Im gonna see my girl
Depot street, baby, baby, baby
Depot street, behind the city hall
Shes my baby, shes my girl
And we aint been to college, we both quit high school
There was way too many people there makin way too many rules
Makin way too many rules
So we got no education, but we dont care at all
Cause it dont mean much on depot street, behind the city hall
Behind the city hall
Down on depot street, Im gonna see my baby
Depot street, Im gonna see my girl
Depot street, baby, baby, baby
Depot street, behind the city hall
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Papers
He realized that she was new 2 love
Naive in every way
Every schoolboys fanstasy she was
Thats why he had 2 wait
If he poured his heart into a glass
And offered it like wine
She could drink and be back in time for the morning papers
They could take a walk down the oceanside
Make a wish on every wave
They could find a carousel
And ride or kiss in every cave
They could contemplate the entire universe
Or just one star
Or just how far was the walk 4 the morning papers
Let me play it for u one time, oh oh
Well
Hey
Shucks
Why is age more than a number when it comes 2 love?
Should we ask the ones who speculate
When they dont know what its made of?
Should we ask the moonlight on your face
Or the raindrops in your hair
Or should we ask the man who wrote it there in the morning papers?
Should we ask the moonlight on your face
Or the raindrops in your hair
Should we ask the man who wrote it there in the morning papers?
Somebody help me sing it now
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Oh yes
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Go play
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la
Ok
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is Just A Visitor
Polished darkness groomed for a city
A city of pain
A city of games
A city that will blow your mind
Strangers are libraries
Ships of Venus by the moon
We wrestle with visitors
The normal is tragic and boring
Don’t you love a city at night?
Recluse in the lights
Confused like jazz
She walks into my life like a church
Now I am on my knees
Eclectic as Paris
Driven with the ambition of libido
The streets of Manhattan
Shops in the Village
Coffee like cocaine
She paints like Hendrix was alive
Central Park like Jackson Pollack
She says, “Baby, love is just a visitor
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday Papers
Mother doesnt go out any more
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes
But every weekend through the door
Come words of wisdom from the world outside
If you want to know about the bishop and the actress
If you want to know how to be a star
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress
You can read it in the sunday papers, sunday papers
Mothers wheelchair stays out in the hall
Why should she go out when the tvs on
Whatever moves beyond these walls
Shell know the facts when sunday comes along
If you want to know about the man gone bonkers
If you want to know how to play guitar
If you want to know about the other suckers
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to drive your car
If you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, sunday papers
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Soul
I am the walking city
The breathing collective
The art of day and night
The ideals riding to work
Labyrinth filling minds
Streams of consciousness
Grief groups and AA clubs
Stores and sales
Crafts and precision
Schools and design
Immigrants and dialects
Rap, blues, jazz, classical
Colloquiums, technology
Invention, pollution
Tea and don’t forget coffee
The city needs artist
Beautiful mad city
Cavalier yellow gold morning
Paint your canvas with hope
Let your soul show feeling
Some ideals can only be expressed
Constituted by emotion
Color the mood of spirit
Conception the child of perception
Parabolic myth shared in symbols
Uniqueness in the related social sea
Creative biochemistry converts feelings
Talent coming from genetic mystery
Talent as spiritual as angels
Music as strange as exotic fruit
Poetry like wine from the mind
Architecture where monuments breathe
Old and new convergence
Hubs quell like tides
Styles in the collective unconscious
Museums with purple pageantry
Limestone and marble
Exchange and variety
Culinary cuisine and ethnic diversity
Parks and horticulture
History in sculpture
Bridges like Roman aqueducts
City lights along the river
Live music and ringing bells
Cathedrals and spirals
We live in ghettos
We live in mansions
I am the insane pace
I am the civil Good Samaritan
Strippers and pimps
Busses, cars, trucks and trains
Jets flying overhead
Traffic and home sweet home
I was born in the mad beautiful city
Time for the dogs walk
City soul out for a stroll
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yesterday's Papers
Who wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
After this time I finally learned
After the pain and hurt
After all this what have I achieved
I've realized it's time to leave
Cause
Cho wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
Living a life of constant change
Every day means the turn of a page
Yesterdays papers are such bad news
Same thing applies to me and you
Who wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
Seems very hard to have just one girl
When there's a million in the world
All of these people just can't wait
To fall right into their big mistake
Who wants yesterdays papers
Who wants yesterdays girl
Who wants yesterdays papers
Nobody in the world
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Between The Buttons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High In The City
I got the time, I got my feet
Lets go hit the street
High in the city
High in the city
I got my mace and you got your knife
You gotta protect your own life
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive here in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
Lets not walk down sutton place
You know everybody there got an akitas
High in the city
High in the city
Dont wanna talk politics today
I feel too good let me have my way
High in the city
High in the city
Watch out for that guy on your right
Seen him on the news last saturday night
He was high in the city
High in the city
Hey, look theyre setting fire to that jeep
Theres not much you can keep
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
So many people feeling low
And theres only one way to go to
Get high in the city
High in the city
Lets grap a pie, lets hit the park
Ill kiss and hug you till it gets dark
Here in the city
Getting high in the city
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Bells
(Jay Livingston/Ray Evans)
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas day
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air
There's a feeling of Christmas
Children laughing
People passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on ev'ry street corner you'll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas day
Strings of street lights
Even stop lights
Blink a bright red and green
As the shoppers rush home with their treasures
Hear the snow crunch
See the kids bunch
This is Santa's big scene
And above all this bustle
You'll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas day
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas day...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bells
And the actresses relate
To the actor who comes home late
After the plays have gone down
And the crowds have scattered around
Though the city lights and the streets
No ticket could be beat
For the beautiful show of shows
Ah, broadway only knows
The great white milky way
It had something to say
When he fell down on his knees
After soaring through the air
With nothing to hold him there
It was really not so cute
To play without a parachute
As he stood upon the ledge
Looking out, he thought he saw a brook
And he hollered, look, there are the bells
And he sang out, here come the bells
Here come the bells, here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New York City Serenade
Billy, hes down by the railroad tracks, sittin low in the back seat of his cadillac,
Diamond jackie, shes so intact, she falls so softly beneath him,
Jackies heels are stacked, billys got cleats on his boots,
Together theyre gonna boogaloo down broadway and come back home with the
Loot,
Its midnight in manhattan, this is no time to get cute, its a mad dogs promenade,
So walk tall, or baby dont walk at all.
Fish lady, fish lady, fish lady she baits them tenement walls,
She wont take cornerboys, aint got no money, and theyre so easy,
I said, hey baby wont you take my hand, walk me down broadway,
Im a young man and I talk real loud, yeah, baby walk real proud for you.
So shake it away, so shake away your street life, shake away your city life,
And hook up to the train, hook up to the night train, hook it up hook up to the, hook up to the train,
But I know that she wont take the train, no she wont take the train,
No she wont take the train, no she wont take the train
Shes afraid them tracks are gonna slow her down,
And when she turns this boyll be gone
So long, sometimes you just gotta walk on.
Hey vibes man, hey jazz man play me your serenade
Any deeper blue and youre playin in your grave
Save your notes, dont spend em on the blues boy,
Save your notes, dont spend em on the darlin yearlin sharp boy,
Straight for the church note ringin, vibes man sting a trash can
Listen to your junk man, listen to your junk man,
Listen to your junk man, listen to your junk man,
Hes singin, singin, singin, singin.
All dressed up in satin, walkin past the alley.
Watch out for you junk man, watch out for your junk man,
Watch out for your junk man.
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monday Papers
I dont want to go out any more
I read the news, I cant believe my eyes
I push the table against the door
You know Ive had it with the world outside
If you want to know about the murderers and junkies
If you want to know about the lower east side
Now they got a map shows you where to get your monkey
You can read it in the monday papers, monday papers
Some people like a little gore
Some people always at the scenes of crimes
Now they can watch the tv more
Now they can get it in the sunday times
If you find it hard to handle what you see on page one
You can pull the funnies out and have some laughs
Take a drink and maybe you can laugh at ronald reagan
You can read it in the monday papers, read it in the monday papers
Monday papers dont ask no questions
Monday papers dont get no lies
Monday papers dont raise objection
Monday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to be a star
Ladies - if you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the monday papers, read it in the monday papers
Monday papers dont ask no questions
Monday papers dont get no lies
Monday papers dont raise objection
Monday papers dont got no eyes
Monday papers dont ask no questions
Monday papers dont get no lies
Monday papers dont raise objection
Monday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, monday papers
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blues, The Jazz, The City
The city is jazz under neon lights
The jazz is blues stoned
And the city never forgets this
Like the heart never forgets to pulse
And the stars never forget to shine in the night
But it takes jazz to move it, to move it all
So the jazz is the beat that always burns
So the heavens continue to shine on and shine all
The jazz soothes the souls of the children
Though the city is old, the jazz is young
Thus the jazz, fast and heavy, radiates the city
She returns her to her ember glow in night
The city is high on the hill and low in the valley
She is the heart, the blessed nectar, the blossom shower
The jazz glows in prosperous tombs
She serves the crashing wave of the monsoon, to the city's bay, to the ancient harbor, across bold rivers, to lakes nestled in the safety of moors and battlefields, and sings to the forest and soaks the timber and every reborn city is cloaked in the fingertip of jazz
Since jazz destroys and creates, it is the fire, and so the smoke rises higher
Hark the newborn guff of jazz
The baptized funeral pyre
Hench jazz is the gospel, the good news
She returns though, always to the blues
Love the blue lady, her old cracked voice
The blues, the jazz, and the lady unite
To the bravery of her song she sang to the evil eyes of the Kodak dragon whose hair in the hiding bear under masks of hatred
The jealous lair, the haunt of despair
And jazz shines on, they can't stop her
The lady of the city sings to the farm
No choir can match the timbre of the lady
My first love,
She shines on for me when I am sad, through me in melancholy
And we join in joy, the lady sees all, feels all, and sings on
Rambunctious be the lady, the city, the blues
Who beat for hearts at night
From the slide trombone, the tut-tut-tut of the mighty snare
The brass milieu for brighter days and neon lights
The whimper
The whimper of the stand-up bass, who carries the beat, the jazz, the blues, the night
In your arms I am safe and sound, the sounds who hold me tight
And above all, upon the highest peak, the great black giants, the black hands and breath of jazz, food for the soul and fodder, who inspire all in the world
But the two giants upon the highest mountain compete for the night and walk away friends as we do
They too are the shine, the noble sheen, and while the lady sings, they dance, the boozers hound and prance, the lovers kneel and romance and the giants push the pebbles from beneath their mountain feet
Who knows how many souls the jazz saved, but I know she saved mine
The giants, trumpet and sax, and even the sweet other of New Orleans, a trumpet and voice, a demigod, and every other band and face and time
So the jazz soothed them too to be saved, as they played, we all played, and jazz shines for the night
And Jack drew the map in sketches, he saw the jazz, but the jazz sees all, and saves all who smile upon her because she loves all, but can only save those who hear her call because she is human
She is so human
She is the city of light of darkest night
But most of all I think on the lady
The lady is the city, sitting pretty, in a jam
The jam
The beat
The jazz
The lady
The city
The blues
Pushed forward by strongest beat, what a feat, and the children eat their meat
And meet those they should, the jazz rumbles on, singing the song, nothing wrong
And the lady smiles always because she is the beat of my heart, my soul
She blooms my flower
She waves my sound
She smiles
Smiles
The lady
With her cracked somber voice of the blues, the city, and jazz
She the great bell, cracked, she chimes for liberty, she chimes for freedom of the endless soul she saves
And the giants steamroll her, the angel ember young
And she flies in heaven where she belongs, singing for the city, the blues, the jazz
And love
poem by Jay Bradley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Boy Blues
Fireflies in dogfights
Runnin hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe--so head out
My hearts in the country
My feets in the city with you
All my friends are eatin sushi
Talkin bad about you know who-who-who
My tongues talkin riddles
But I just cant seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
And jump into the saddle with you-you-you
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Cats in the alley
Rats in my snakeskin boots
All my neighbors think Im crazy
And my girl thinks Im losin my cool-cool-cool
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Dont look to jesus to change your seasons
Its the american dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Cant seem to find no peace--so head out
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues, got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Les Mannequins
Eins, zwei, drei, vier.
Nous sommes immobiles [we are immobile]
Dans la vitrine [in the window]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
On nous observe [People watch us]
Nous sentons vivre notre pouls [we feel our pulse]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous regardons alentours [we are looking around]
Et nous changeons de pause [and we change to pause]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous commencons a marcher [we begin to walk]
Et nous brisons la glace [and we break the glass]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous faisons quelques pas [we take a few steps]
A l'interieur de la ville [to the inner city]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous rentrons dans un club [we go into a club]
Et commencons a danser [and begin to dance]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins [We are the mannequins]
Nous sommes les mannequins ... [We are the mannequins
song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Journey To Lisbon
Winter Journey to Lisbon
Up rua Garrett I walked and it’s steep, in Baixa, the old heart
of Lisbon, past a shop that sells lottery tickets that sits beside
a shop that sells religious artifax, which is next door to a shop
that sells Cartier watches, if you buy a ticket and win, there is
money to decorate you mother’s grave and to buy a watch for
yourself. At the top of the street there is café Brasilia it used to
be Fernando Pessoa’s drinking den, the place is full of solemn,
nice Portuguese who, dressed for the occasion, drink nice cups
of coffee, their forefathers used looked down on Fernando,
irreverent poets and writers must go and drink elsewhere.
The master poet is now a statue sits outside in the rain and has
his picture taken by tourists, one wonders what he thinks of it all
as he sees the statue of Antonio Ribero Chiado, a poet who lived
in the sixteen hundred, the Largo is called after him he is bald and
is dressed like monk. From Largo Chiado I could see the harbour
where tug boats ply their trade on grey waters; the church
“Incarnacao” where Antonio used to pray is beautifully restored,
but empty god had left by the backdoor, the front door was too
heavy, but I saw woman weeping near a statue of Christ, “opium
for the people? ” Yes, why not?
It is getting dark the Portuguese are swallowed up by the Metro
as middle aged men with folded cardboard boxes, look for a shop
doorway where to bed down; and over this scene hovers Amalia,
the great Fado singer, she came from poverty too, famous in her
own life time she had the sense to be a friend of the powerful and
made it to the top. When her friends toppled from power she was
out in the cold, but not for long the Portuguese quickly forgave her.
Fine rain falls on Fernando’s hat and Antonio’s bald head, empty
streets the city sleeps and leaves the space to cats, the sleepless,
whores and their sad clients.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silver Bells
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air theres a feeling like christmas
Children laughing, people passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on every street corner you hear
Silver bells, silver bells
Its christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be christmas day
Strings of street lights
Even stop lights
Blink a bright red and green
As the shoppers rush home with their treasures
Hear the snow crunch
See the kids bunch
This is santas big scene
And above all the bustle you hear
Silver bells, silver bells
Its christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be christmas day
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Bells
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air theres a feeling of christmas
Children laughing, people passing
Greeting smile after smile
And on every street corner you hear
Silver bells, silver bells
Its christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be christmas day
Strings of street lights, even stop lights
Blink a bright red and green
As the shoppers rush home with their treasures
Hear the snow crunch, see the kids hunch
This is santas big scene
And above all the bustle you hear
Silver bells, silver bells
Its christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be christmas day
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Java Blues
Rick danko
I walked into a diner
And the blonde behind the counter
She asked if she could help in any way
Hell, I knew by her smile
Her number I could dial
If I was in the need of company
But as I bought some java
Instead she brought me a cup of chicory
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
Dont pour me water just fill up my cup
You know it takes a lot just to keep me up
Cost may be more than you care to pay
What good is money compared to fightin pain
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
The taste of java is like a cocaine rush
Nobodys gonna stop me from drinkin too much
Down in bolivia the people are insane
They want as much for coffee as they do for cocaine
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
The coffees got me now..
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
I got the java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh the coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues!
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The City
He is just a boy in the city
Dressed the same hes uniformly pretty
He knows its the time
He can read the signs
He can really change
In the city
The best dressed boy in town he thinks its funny
Half a dozen jobs makes his money
He is just a boy in the city
Friday night propels walter mitty
Its about time
He can read the signs
A night on the town
In the city
Monday is a work day
Tuesdays much the same
Wednesday comes and goes away
Thursdays back again
Friday night is sunday in the morning
Monday brings the weekends final yawning
Now its about time
He has crossed the line
He is miles away
In the city
(city!)
(city!)
(city!)
(city!)
Now its about time
He can read the signs
He can really change
It is on his mind
He has crossed the line
He has gone once more
From the city
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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