Last Hard Bible
I sold my last hard bible
Just to pay my bills
I called my mother
To reserve me in her will
And the pay I'm getting every Thursday night
Well it just don't seem enough
Well money can buy me a hell of a lot
But it sure won't buy me love
Well I brought me a car
And I brought me a roadtrain
Car won't go
Trains to slow
So I found me a mansion
On the highest hillside
Bigger then this town
But it don't feel like home
I sold my last hard bible
Just to pay my bills
I called my mother
To reserve me in her will
And the pay I'm getting every Thursday night
Well it just don't seem enough
Well money can buy me a hell of a lot
But it sure won't buy me love
I spent my cash
On a brand new heartache
I spent my time
Trying to make it back
He took my heart
And he took my savings
He took the train
And left me on the track
I sold my last hard bible
Just to pay my bills
I called my mother
To reserve me in her will
And the pay I'm getting every Thursday night
Well it just don't seem enough
Well money can buy me a hell of a lot
But it sure won't buy me love
song performed by by Kasey Chambers from The Captain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I Have Reserved Time to Write This; Why?
I sat in the nature reserve
Watching the animals playing football
I was just a reserve
Not in the first eleven
I had a seat in the theatre reserved
I watched the play unfold
I not an actor I’m too reserved
I’m in the audience where I belong
I was called up by the army
Served before; but they wanted me to re-serve
I was playing tennis; the ball went wide
They made me re-serve
Reserve your energy
Reserve your nerve
Keep your humour in reserve
Keep your reserve in reserve
I reserve the right to say you asked me to write this
And I have kept the best in reserve
You will have to reserve an appointment
With a proper poet after you’ve read this
An anagram of reserve
Is reverse
I wish I could reverse time
Then I wouldn’t have wrote this
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother may I
Mother may I
throw food around
because I am contrary as an infant?
Mother may I
play in the mud
because I like when you have to bathe me?
Mother may I
eat all the cookies
just because they taste so yummy?
Mother may I
draw on the walls
because I like your attention?
Mother may I
not do my homework
because I want to grow up faster?
Mother may I
stay out all night
because I feel like I'm suffocating at home?
Mother may I
have sex in your bed
because you arn't home to know about it?
Mother may I
borrow the car
so my friends and I can get high on the bridge?
Mother may I
take the TV
because I'll need something to do at college?
Mother may I
borrow some money
because I spent all of mine on the raised cigarette tax?
Mother may I
take you for granted
because I don't know any better?
Mother may I
have an abortion
because I am scared to become you so quickly?
Mother may I
cry in your arms
because I finally know what it feels like to be used?
Mother may I
come home to you
because I still love you more than anything?
Mother may I
have another cookie
because now I know to ask?
Mother may I
take your advice
because I want to know if he's right for me?
Mother may I
fall in love
because I want to be whole?
Mother may I
have your grandchild
because I want to be just like you?
Mother may I
give her your name
because she's just as beautiful to me as you are?
Mother may I
love you forever
because you are my loving mother and never gave up on me?
poem by Erica Francis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I would not have done, if I knew it earlier..
When you called me other day,
and told me your sad story,
I should have listened to you, not have done it.
When you called me middle of the night,
and told me that you had given up all hopes,
I should have listened to you only, not have done that.
When you came to my house,
cried your heart out,
I should have listened to you ONLY, not have done that.
When you made a hell out my weak heart,
pestered me to part the hard earned money,
I should have listened to you, not have lent the cash.
When I call you now,
You already changed your phone number,
several times.
When I come to your house,
your neighbors have become old,
and you shifted to a new house.
When I manage to get your new number,
and call you, you do tell me,
that I called the wrong number.
If I knew it earlier,
that you bargained my affection for money,
I would not have lent you the money,
at least I still have a friend or a relative intact.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Singin' The Blues
I've been working so hard,
Just came home from my job.
Looked down in my wallet,
Good God, I've been robbed.
Now where can my money be,
All my hard-earned pay?
What am I going to do now?
I got my bills to pay.
You got me singin' the blues,
And I'm paying all my dues.
You got me singin' the blues,
Ain't got nothing to lose.
I got to tell you I got the blues down in my pockets.
People, what did I say?
Bills are gonna rob me tomorrow,
Why I need my ten dollars today.
Chorus
Ain't no way to get even
Because, you know what I mean,
Every time I make me some money
Somebody's going to take it from me.
Chorus
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hit 'Em Up Style
While he was schemeing
I was beamin in the Beamer just beamin
Can't believe that I caught my man cheatin'
So I found another way to make him pay for it all
So I went
To Neiman-Marcus on a shopping spree
And on the way I grabbed Soley and Mia
And as the cash box rang I thought everything away
(Oops)
There goes the dreams we used to say
(oops)
There goes the time we spent away
(oops)
There goes the love I had but you cheated on me
And thats worth that now
(oops)
There goes the house we made a home
(oops)
There goes you'll never leave me alone
For all the lies you told
This is what you owe
Hey Ladies
When your man wanna get buckwild
Just go back and Hit 'Em Up Style
Put your hands on his cash
And spend it to the last dime
For all the hard times
Oh
When you go then everything goes
From the crib to the ride and the clothes
So you better let him know that
If he messed up you gotta hit em up
While he was braggin
I was coming down the hill and just draggin
All his pictures and his clothes in the bag and
Sold everything else till there was just nothin left
And I paid
All the bills about a month too late
It's a shame we have to play these games
The love we had just fades away
song performed by by Blu Cantrell from So Blu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Money for the poor
To the corners of the earth
that sum reserve to call hell
life isn't lived like anything you know
it's apart of a style traped in time
life of the eger but only to die
here there is no money
were the poppy seeds blow
here there is no money
were hashish is smoked
here there is only money
were the bullets go
poem by Terry halvorson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hermit and a sleeping beauty
He was mesmerized by her leer
and he cannot take his eyes away.
She never let him go to his hermitage
and he feels like strangulation.
' I am very strange to the love' he said meekly.
She showed her mellow heart
and he forgot that he is a hermit.
His meditation is over
and they tangled each other.
He found the heaven.
She still in her dreams
and he woke up in the morning.
How can he go back to the monastery?
and he is worried about his misdeed.
She woke up and grumbled,
'Leave your dogma aside and try to find a job
we need money to live together.
Electricity bills, water bills and so many arrears were due,
do not try to run away and you are belongs to me now.'
He was disgusted and he thinks
Is this the heaven or hell?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Urgently
Money...$
What For?
Sharing
Not sure
For bills, need more
Money.
Money...
Plant a seed
It is what we all need
I want to plant you URGENTLY
A Money tree.
Money,
Is it for giving?
Money
High cost of living
Money.
Money,
Such crime
Money,
People doing time
Money.
Money...
Touching, everyones hands
Germs galore; who cares I have plans
For money.
Money...
Does it make the world turn
Yes, No
One day we will learn. $$$$$$$$$$$$
She Works Hard For The Money
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Onetta there in the corner stand
and wonders where she is and
it's strange to her
some people seem to have everything
Nine a.m. on the hour hand
and she's waiting for the bell
and she's looking real pretty
just wait for her clientele
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Twenty five years have
come and gone
and she' seen a lot of tears
of the ones who come in
they really seem to need her there
It's a sacrifice working day to day
for little money just tips for pay
But it's worth it all
just to hear them say that they care
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She already knows
she's seen her bad times
she already knows
these are the good times
She'll never sell out
she never will
not for a dollar bill
she works hard
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
song performed by by Donna Summer from The Donna Summer Anthology
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money, Money
My baby gives me the finance blues, tax me to the limit of my revenues.
Here she comes finger-poppin, clickety-click
She says furs or diamonds, you take your pick.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
She say, money, honey, Id rob a bank,
I just load my gun and mosey down to the bank.
Knockin off my neighborhood savings and load,
To keep my sweet chiquita in eau de cologne.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Mama dont send me down to rob that bank again,
I got a notion that your leadin me to sin.
Wont you relax, wont you lay way back,
Dont you bug your honey bout no cadillac.
Its only bucks, you dont need no jack.
So wont you please relax and lay way back.
My babys lovin gives me such a thrill;
It gives me inspiration makin counterfeit bills.
Now some folks say the best things in life are free,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Lord made a lady out of adams rib, next thing you know, you got womens lib.
Lovely to look upon, heaven to touch;
Its a real shame that they got to cost so much.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money, Money
I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay
Ain't it sad
And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me
That's too bad
In my dreams I have a plan
If I got me a wealthy man
I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
A man like that is hard to find but I can't get him off my mind
Ain't it sad
And if he happens to be free I bet he wouldn't fancy me
That's too bad
So I must leave, I'll have to go
To Las Vegas or Monaco
And win a fortune in a game, my life will never be the same...
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
Money, money, money
Must be funny
In the rich man's world
Money, money, money
Always sunny
In the rich man's world
Aha-ahaaa
All the things I could do
If I had a little money
It's a rich man's world
It's a rich man's world
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Father Is Always In Debt
My father has to pay all the bills,
This is done gladly by his own will.
Bills are for the house mortgage,
To have a decent shelter for our sake.
Electricity, gas, water bills are enormous indeed,
Which are really basic human need.
Another really huge is a burden of our school fees,
Education nowaday is expensive, but not for free.
My report card with 'A' makes him happy with a glee,
So my father pays them without any hesitation,
Looking forward to the day of our graduation.
For us to climb higher in social rank,
To this expectation his heart never sank.
Food and clothings are no more cheap,
Sometimes upon him, a debt will be heaped,
Causing very difficult to make both ends meet.
He prays for us to be healthy,
In case of illness, extra money must be spent plenty.
He patiently endures the pinches of poverty,
Only our hard work in education would bring him out ot this tragedy.
Though the saying is 'Money cannot make everything.'
He knows it can make a lot of things.
O, Dad, don't worry, when I start to work,
Your burden is going to be stopped.
For the loans, I am going to repay,
So that you will have a happy and easy day.
I want to
I want to tell you a story, And you can read about it some more,
About a wise king called Solomon, who had servants do e Rey chore;
One day he heard the Lord God of Israel talk to him and say,
Because you chose to be my child, and my words you do obey,
I have decided to give you a gift and you can decide which to choose,
You can become very rich, so money, or wisdom, which can you use?
Solomon thought long and hard, and decided wisdom was the best,
And so God said because you wasn't greedy you can have the rest.
Solomon soon found out wisdom he did receive, from the Lord,
When 2 women came fighting over one baby boy he had heard;
The mother of the one who died said its mine the child that's alive,
But the other mother whose one who lived no that's mine, she does lie.
They both argued so king Solomon said cut the baby in two,
Let them share half each, In the bible you'll see it's true;
The real mother said no give to her, please don't destroy the boy,
But the other mum just kept saying slice him, she thought it like a toy.
So king Solomon said give the child to the mother over there,
She is the real mother, she was protecting him, cause she doth care;
Only a real mother could show so much love, enough to give away,
Than let her child be destroyed, Wise Solomon knew what to say.
Yes! Solomon received money as well, but becoming rich went to his head,
When he built such beautiful buildings, he forgot God, and said t'was I. Instead;
The Moral of this story, is don't forget to say Thanks to God for everything,
Never think that you did it all, God has made. So Give Praises to God as you sing.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hell On High Heels
Bashful betty, such a bondage brat
Dressed in latex and coated in sewer rat
A serpents tongue calculating mind
Gets top billing for her hip shake divine
Look to the sky
No rain in sight
Better wear your rubber boys
If betty is your date tonight
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Sexy suki, little geisha girl
Given every samurai a twirl
An hiv v.i.p.
Backseat panties down around her knees
Shes got no money
Cant pay the rent
Its a sunny day now baby
Every night on her back thats spent
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Does the Bible Tell?
The Bible speaks about the love of God
That’s infinite and unfathomable;
The Bible talks of love of man for God,
Their obeisance and faith amidst great strife.
The Bible tells of stories of persons
Who chose the path of righteousness to vice;
The Bible narrates accounts of men
And women who stood steadfast in faith amidst trials.
The Bible depicts how God tests man’s love
And obedience to Will of Providence;
The Bible reveals all secrets of life
That’s everlasting and all heavenly.
The Bible lists the sins that are mortal,
Abominable and hated by God;
The Bible shows the path of righteousness
That leads all souls to the Abode of God.
The Bible hints how God can punish as well
And send all evil-hearted down to hell;
The Bible has the Words of the Maker
That will come true when earth and sun shall end!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-24-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reconstruction
So, the bank has bust it's boiler! And in six or seven year
It will pay me all my money back -- of course!
But the horse will perish waiting while the grass is germinating,
And I reckon I'll be something like the horse.
There's the ploughing to be finished and the ploughmen want their pay,
And I'd like to wire the fence and sink a tank;
But I own I'm fairly beat how I'm going to make ends meet
With my money in a reconstructed bank.
"It's a safe and sure investment!" But it's one I can't afford,
For I've got to meet my bills and bay the rent,
And the cash I had provided (so these meetings have decided)
Shall be collared by the bank at three per cent.
I can draw out half my money, so they tell me, from the Crown;
But -- it's just enough to drive a fellow daft --
My landlord's quite distressed, by this very bank he's pressed,
And he'll sell me up, to pay his overdraft.
There's my nearest neighbour, Johnson, owed this self-same bank a debt,
Every feather off his poor old back they pluck't,
For they set to work to shove him, and they sold his house above him,
Lord! They never gave him time to reconstruct.
And their profits from the business have been twenty-five per cent,
Which, I reckon, is a pretty tidy whack,
And I think it's only proper, now the thing has come a cropper,
That they ought to pay a little of it back.
I have read about "reserve funds", "banking freeholds", and the like,
Till I thought the bank had thousands of assets,
And it strikes me very funny that they take a fellow's money
When they haven't got enough to pay their debts.
And they say they've lent my money, and they can't get paid it back.
I know their rates per cent were tens and twelves;
And if they've made a blunder after scooping all this plunder,
Why, they ought to fork the money out themselves.
So all you bank shareholders, if you won't pay what you owe,
You will find that on your bank will fall a blight;
And the reason is because it's simply certain that deposits
Will be stopped, the bank will bust, and serve you right!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The night we shared
One night my woman came with me,
To my house she came for we decided it was time,
To share our love ever so more in the dark why not,
In the coolness, the breeze, in the night,
So we made love behind a rock last night,
It wasn't called for it wasn't expected,
Our love just couldn't control us and we acted,
We looked at each other so hard into the night,
I looked at the one I wasn't to be with for the rest of my life,
And so I thank that night for all it has brought me from that night,
Now we're married and love each other more,
And every night we go back,
To that night we had so long ago behind that rock.
poem by Richard Belis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage
Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool spring where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
Toiling through the weary day,
And at night the spoiler's prey.
Oh, that they had earlier died,
Sleeping calmly, side by side,
Where the tyrant's power is o'er
And the fetter galls no more!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
From Virginia's hills and waters
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
By the holy love He beareth;
By the bruised reed He spareth;
Oh, may He, to whom alone
All their cruel wrongs are known,
Still their hope and refuge prove,
With a more than mother's love.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Farewell
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool sprmg where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
Toiling through the weary day,
And at night the spoiler's prey.
Oh, that they had earlier died,
Sleeping calmly, side by side,
Where the tyrant's power is o'er
And the fetter galls no more!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
From Virginia's hills and waters
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
By the holy love He beareth;
By the bruised reed He spareth;
Oh, may He, to whom alone
All their cruel wrongs are known,
Still their hope and refuge prove,
With a more than mother's love.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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