Laziness
Let laureates sing with rapturous swing
Of the wonder and glory of work;
Let pulpiteers preach and with passion impeach
The indolent wretches who shirk.
No doubt they are right: in the stress of the fight
It's the slackers who go to the wall;
So though it's my shame I perversely proclaim
It's fine to do nothing at all.
It's fine to recline on the flat of one's spine,
With never a thought in one's head:
It's lovely to le staring up at the sky
When others are earning their bread.
It's great to feel one with the soil and the sun,
Drowned deep in the grasses so tall;
Oh it's noble to sweat, pounds and dollars to get,
But - it's grand to do nothing at all.
So sing to the praise of the fellows who laze
Instead of lambasting the soil;
The vagabonds gay who lounge by the way,
Conscientious objectors to toil.
But lest you should think, by this spatter of ink,
The Muses still hold me in thrall,
I'll round out my rhyme, and (until the next time)
Work like hell - doing nothing at all.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I am a King While Working
Working is very nice and fine
It gives a very healthy sign
The working pleasure is mine
I want to work again and again
I am adequately compensated
While working I am not irritated
By sweat my body is irrigated
My efforts will never get wasted
To work I feel very very hungry
Too much work makes me not angry
To do work I always love to agree
I behave like a well-watered tree
My hands may look dirty
My age may be fifty
I love to do my duty
My body ever feels thirsty
I will never grudge
I will ever budge
I will never dodge
I will take a pledge
I care not my body being sweated
I worry not by being disappointed
Only to work I am appointed
To do duty only I am created
Till my last breath
I will toil on this Earth
My birth must give mirth
Only six feet land I am worth!
I will distribute cash
Secretly I will not stash
To work I will make a dash
Lazy feelings equal trash
Day and night I will truly toil
Under the Sun which will boil
I will pray to the mother soil
To make sweat better than oil
O- God- Help me wake up
O- God- Help me make up
Any task, help me take up
Any riddle, help me rake up.
poem by Mailrangam Visvanathan Venkataraman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its Gonna Work Out Fine
Its gonna work out fine
Ike & tina turner
Darling (yes tine) its time to get next to me
(honey that was my plan from the very beginning)
Darling (un huh) I never thought that this could be
(what you mean) oh yeah
Your lips set my soul on fire
You could be my one desire
Oh darling (yes yes) I think its gonna work out fine
(its gonna work out fine)
I wanna tell you something ike
Ike, I went to see the preacher man
(the preacher man, you must be losin your mind)
I started (strated what) I started making wedding plans
(oh really) oh yeah
If your love is half as true as the love I offer you
Oh darling (yes yes) I think its gonna work out fine
(its gonna work out fine)
I keep a tellin ya (I think its gonna work out fine)
I get the feelin its a (gonna work out fine)
I keep a tellin you (I know its gonna work out fine)
Im so glad that youre mine all mine
Remember (remember what) I used to call you dapper dan
(yeah those were the good ole days)
But killer, forever and a lovin man (thats me) oh yeah
A whole lot of love just to be your speed
But now pretty daddy Im all you need
Oh darling (yes yes) I know its gonna work out fine
(its gonna work out fine)
I keep a tellin ya (I think its gonna work out fine)
I get the feelin its a (gonna work out fine)
I keep a tellin you (I know its gonna work out fine)
I want you to know its gonna work out fine
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let us sing Glory (Song)
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God created the heaven and earth
Lord came for us from heaven to earth
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God created the sea and sky
Lord controlled the sea and wind
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God had given us fruits and plants
Lord given himself as bread and wine
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God created stars
Stars shown the way to Jesus
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God given the life on the earth
Lord raised the life from the dead
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
Praise the God for all his greatness
Praise the Lord for all his help
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Aint Nothing Like A Song
(words & music by byers - johnston)
When you say thats it boy
Im finally beat
Youre goin ninety miles an hour
Down a dead end street
You dont want to fight no more
You think that you cant win
Come on boy take a real deep breath
Jump right in and
Hold your head up high
Oh you gotta be strong
Come on and sing, sing, sing
There aint nothing like a song
Now they may take away your job
Take your fancy car
They may repossess your clothes, take that fine guitar
They may take everything you own
Well thats just for today
As long as youve got a song in your heart
Tomorrows gonna be o.k.
Hold your head up high
Oh you gotta be strong
Come on and sing, sing, sing
There aint nothing like a song
All right
There aint nothing gonna stop you
Once youve set your mind
The only people gonna knock you
Are jealous of what they find
Just keep a smile right on your face
Dont let em get you down
When you wake up tomorrow
The world is spinnin round
Hold your head up high, hey, hey, hey
You gotta be strong, all right
Come on and sing, sing, sing
There aint nothing like a song
Well lovins all that I can give you
(baby thats enough)
You aint easy to satisfy
(baby I aint that tough)
Now hey little girl youre about the wildest
Thing Ive ever seen
(when Im with you baby Im a lovin machine)
Come on and kiss me honey
Oh you gotta be strong
Come on and sing, sing
There aint nothing like a song
Come on and sing, (sing) sing
(sing) sing, (sing) sing
There aint nothing like a song
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tunnel
Toil's a tunnel, there's no way out
For fellows, the like o' me;
A beggar wi' only a crust an' a clout
At the worst o' the worst is free;
but I work to eat, an' I eat to work;
It's always the same old round,
And I dassent fail for the day I shirk
They'll shovel me underground.
I guess God meant it to be that way,
For a man must make his bread;
I was born to bondage, to earn my pay,
To slave to the day I'm dead;
To live in a tunnel, to die in a ditch -
That's just what us fellows do;
For the poor must be makin' the rich more rich,
An' the many must serve the few.
Aye, we live in a tunnel, most o' us,
A-fearin' to lose our job;
But who has the right to gripe an' cuss
So the goblet's hot on the hob.
An' I mustn't be havin' the wife complain,
An' I can't let the childer fast:
So I'll toil in my tunnel an' drag my chain,
Clank! Clank! Clank! to the last.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Can Work It Out
Now that I know your name and U know mine
Ain't it just about time that we got 2gether?
We should make such beautiful music 4ever
Oh, 2gether 4ever
Put your trust in me, I'll never let U down
Cuz I know I can count on U 2 help me make it
Ain't no doubt about it
We can work it out, work it out
I know we can work it out
Work it out, work it out
Ooh wee!
CHORUS:
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Makin' music naturally, me and W.B. (CHORUS)
Music 4 the young and old, music bound 2 be gold
Work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out {x2}
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out (Can we work it out?)
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out (I want 2 work it out)
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
(Everybody sing) Hope we work it out, I hope we work it out
Makin' music naturally, me and W.B
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singing A Love Song
Well, I may not get applause every night when I sing,
And I may not hear the cheers of a crowd.
And my voice cant always rise to make the mountains ring,
And at times I cant even sing out aloud.
But youve got me singing a love song,
Melody and rhyme;
It moves me every time.
Youve got me singing a love song,
And it keeps you on my mind, ooooh, on my mind.
Feelin fine all the time.
It keeps you on my mind.
Sometimes my voice is strained and the strings wont hold a tune.
My back is sore, and Im just too tired to try,
And I dont want to work or rest or think of you,
Or face the world or even close my eyes.
But youve got me singing a love song,
Melody and rhyme;
It moves me every time; I know that,
Youve got me singing a love song,
And it keeps you on my mind, ooooh, on my mind.
Feelin fine all the time.
It keeps you on my mind.
My broken dreams, they dont bother me,
And hard times in life I dont mind.
I think of things that Id rather see,
And you give me piece of mind.
Hard times will come and sometimes I wont wanna sing,
But Ill sing with all the love that I can find.
And Im happy there to hear me in the silence of my song.
Im gonna sing for you until the end of time.
cause youve got me singin a love song,
Melody and rhyme;
It moves me every time.
Youve got me singing a love song,
And it keeps you on my mind, ooooh, on my mind.
Feelin fine all the time.
It keeps you on my mind.
And it keeps you on my mind.
Youve got me singin a love song.
And it keeps you on my mind.
Youve got me singin a love song....
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Five-Per-Cent
Because I have ten thousand pounds I sit upon my stern,
And leave my living tranquilly for other folks to earn.
For in some procreative way that isn't very clear,
Ten thousand pounds will breed, they say, five hundred every year.
So as I have a healthy hate of economic strife,
I mean to stand aloof from it the balance of my life.
And yet with sympathy I see the grimy son of toil,
And heartly congratulate the tiller of the soil.
I like the miner in the mine, the sailor on the sea,
Because up to five hundred pounds they sail and mine for me.
For me their toil is taxed unto that annual extent,
According to the holy shibboleth of Five-per-Cent.
So get ten thousand pounds, my friend, in any way you can.
And leave your future welfare to the noble Working Man.
He'll buy you suits of Harris tweed, an Airedale and a car;
Your golf clubs and your morning Times, your whisky and cigar.
He'll cosily install you in a cottage by a stream,
With every modern comfort, and a garden that's a dream>
Or if your tastes be urban, he'll provide you with a flat,
Secluded from the clamour of the proletariat.
With pictures, music, easy chairs, a table of good cheer,
A chap can manage nicely on five hundred pounds a year.
And though around you painful signs of industry you view,
Why should you work when you can make your money work for you?
So I'll get down upon my knees and bless the Working Man,
Who offers me a life of ease through all my mortal span;
Whose loins are lean to make me fat, who slaves to keep me free,
Who dies before his prime to let me round the century;
Whose wife and children toil in urn until their strength is spent,
That I may live in idleness upon my five-per-cent.
And if at times they curse me, why should I feel any blame?
For in my place I know that they would do the very same.
Aye, though hey hoist a flag that's red on Sunday afternoon,
Just offer them ten thousand pounds and see them change their tune.
So I'll enjoy my dividends and live my life with zest,
And bless the mighty men who first - invented Interest.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Gonna Sing
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
Chorus
When [g] I get to glory, Im gonna sing, sing, sing
Im gonna let the [a7] hallelujahs [d7] ring
[g] Im gonna praise my blessed saviours name
When I get to glory, Im [d7] gonna sing, sing, [g] sing.
[g] in this world of sorrow, Ive seen trouble and woe
When I get to glory [a7] Ill see no [d7] more
For [g] I know my prayers have not been in vain
When I get to glory, Im gonna [d7] sing, sing, [g] sing.
Sometimes I get so weary inside
Then I recall how my jesus died
Up there I know, therell be no pain
When I get to glory, Im gonna sing, sing, sing.
Chorus
Up there no tears will blind my eyes
And Ill walk along by my jesus side
Ill meet my loved ones all once again
When I get to glory, Im gonna sing, sing, sing.
Chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Michael
"There's something in your face, Michael, I've seen it all the day;
There's something quare that wasn't there when first ye wint away. . . ."
"It's just the Army life, mother, the drill, the left and right,
That puts the stiffinin' in yer spine and locks yer jaw up tight. . . ."
"There's something in your eyes, Michael, an' how they stare and stare --
You're lookin' at me now, me boy, as if I wasn't there. . . ."
"It's just the things I've seen, mother, the sights that come and come,
A bit o' broken, bloody pulp that used to be a chum. . . ."
"There's something on your heart, Michael, that makes ye wake at night,
And often when I hear ye moan, I trimble in me fright. . . ."
"It's just a man I killed, mother, a mother's son like me;
It seems he's always hauntin' me, he'll never let me be. . . ."
"But maybe he was bad, Michael, maybe it was right
To kill the inimy you hate in fair and honest fight. . . ."
"I did not hate at all, mother; he never did me harm;
I think he was a lad like me, who worked upon a farm. . . ."
"And what's it all about, Michael; why did you have to go,
A quiet, peaceful lad like you, and we were happy so? . . ."
"It's thim that's up above, mother, it's thim that sits an' rules;
We've got to fight the wars they make, it's us as are the fools. . . ."
"And what will be the end, Michael, and what's the use, I say,
Of fightin' if whoever wins it's us that's got to pay? . . ."
"Oh, it will be the end, mother, when lads like him and me,
That sweat to feed the ones above, decide that we'll be free. . . ."
"And when will that day come, Michael, and when will fightin' cease,
And simple folks may till their soil and live and love in peace? . . ."
"It's coming soon and soon, mother, it's nearer every day,
When only men who work and sweat will have a word to say;
When all who earn their honest bread in every land and soil
Will claim the Brotherhood of Man, the Comradeship of Toil;
When we, the Workers, all demand: `What are we fighting for?' . . .
Then, then we'll end that stupid crime, that devil's madness -- War."
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sing Your Life
Sing your life
Any fool can think of words that rhyme
Many others do
Why dont you ?
Do you want to ?
Oh...
Sing your life
Walk right up to the microphone
And name
All the things you love
All the things that you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
Oh, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Others sang your life
But now is a chance to shine
And have the pleasure of
Saying what you mean
Have the pleasure of
Meaning what you sing
Oh, make no mistake my friend
All of this will end
So sing it now (sing your life)
All the things you love (sing your life)
All the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe (sing your life)
Oh, sing oh...
Oh, sing oh...
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Dont leave it all unsaid
Somewhere in the wasteland of your head, oh
Head, oh, head, oh, head, oh
And make no mistake, my friend
Your pointless life will end
But before you go
Can you look at the truth ?
You have a lovely singing voice
A lovely singing voice
And all of those
Who sing on-key
They stole the notion
From you and me
So, sing your life (sing your life)
Sing your life (sing your life)
Oh, sing your oh...
Oh, sing your
Sing your life
Sing your life
Sing your life
Oh, sing your oh...
(sing your life)
(sing your life)
Sing your life
(sing your life)
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Son Of The Soil
Black, strong tatooed by the sun.
He toils and never tires.
He is the son of the soil.
Forget all these fake wana be's! You see today
wanting to be everything they see on tv.
he is the Son of the soil, raised up in the language of the ancetrals.
Taught to hunter and respect the traditions.
Raised up in the secret sacred things of the land.
Spilt his blood in the soil at the riverside at the age of 13.
He knew where his destiny lay at the age of 16.
Had his first encounter at 18.
She was a true daughter of the soil breed well by the women of the land.
Son of the soil taught by the elders the ways of women.
Son of the soil, taught by nature the way to survive.
Son of the soil, taught to endure by the woman he shares his purity with.
Son of the soil,
arise and toil for your destiny calls.
Toil to protect the weak,
to safeguard the rites,
to up root all menace and vallians from the west.
Son of the soil its your time to stand and be heard.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cyhydedd Naw Ban
The mountains are high covered in snow.
They overlook the valley below
Where farmers must work tilling the soil,
they’d rather be free; not have to toil..
No man can be completely free. Though
some think they ought to be they know
their contrasting desires in turmoil.
Most choose to stay faithful to the soil.
A few choose freedom and gladly go.
Circumstances may combine to foil
the fervent wish to be freed from toil.
It is just a dream as you well know.
You are free to dream but not to go.
Because you are a Son of the Soil.
13-Feb-09
Ifor ap richard
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fine Line
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
Don't pretend you don't see
What's in front of your eyes
We're scraping the gutter
Or we're touching the skies
There's times when I feel
I'm in the eye of a storm
But there's times when I feel
That we could fly up to the moon
To the moon
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
I know you agree that
We should try to work it out
It's too good to throw away
I never had a doubt
We're so good together
And there's nothing to prove
Seems we gotta learn
To take the rough times with the smooth
With the smooth
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
You're walking a fine line
You're living on borrowed time
You're walking a fine line
song performed by by Will Young from From Now On
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy May Day, 2012!
All workers need a day their own,
To talk and rest and have some fun;
May Day is one in every town
For labourers, when shutters are down.
Who will not praise the ones who toil?
Who can live without tillers of soil?
The ones who slog must celebrate,
And think about their future days!
The world must pay a decent sum
To all who sweat and labour hard;
The toilers must not remain dumb,
But air their troubles like a bard.
Too many strikes, protests are bad;
Work struck turn nations poorer still;
But love of work, brethren, not wad,
Can make a task easy uphill!
And pray, you must to patron saints -
St. Joseph, Philip, James, others;
They work miracles for workers
Who love God, work and their brothers!
"Happy May Day,2012! "
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-5-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Motionless
Work
Work
That's what I need to do
Work
Work
I feel so lazy
Working machine
Working machine
That's what I need to be
I need to make my grades go sky high
Make the entire house gleam
Make the best meal ever
Work
Work
Why don't I start
I should just work
All the time
Push everything else away
Instead I sit here
Staring at the T.V.
Staring at a book
Staring at my family
Staring at a magazine
Nanny's making supper
I really should go help
I should take over
And while I'm at it
I should study for my test
And dust, too
But instead I sit
And sit
And sit
And sit
And sit
Just staring,
Watching my life pass me by
poem by Candace Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Soil's Tears
The soil knows the burden of tears
The earth’s sadness that it bears
Through endless battles for territory -
Only the soil knows it has no boundary!
Blood spills on it, falls toil’s sweat,
Muscle’s ravage decides the weak’s fate
Cries of desperation and victory’s cheers
All these the soil tearfully bears!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doin' Fine
Don't feel bad,don't feel good,
Feel alright 'cos i'm doing as i should,
Don't look back,no i don't have the time,
I guess i'm doing fine.
Got no bags to slow me down,
Travelling light but my feet are on the ground,
Got no message,i ain't got a dime,
I guess i'm doing fine.
Don't need no paper telling me bad news,
No politician giving their views,
Don't need no doctor to tell me i'm well,
I feel like heaven and i've been through hell.
Talking straight i don't feel confused,
Don't want nothing,i've got nothing more to lose,
Don't need no credit,don't show me where to sign,
I guess i'm doing fine.
I guess i'm doing fine.
I guess i'm doing fine.
Don't come looking for me,
'cos i'm doing fine,
No missing persons,
'cos i'm doing fine,
Don't go home,
'cos i'm doing fine.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bread and games
They told me I should sing
But I didn't know what to sing
So I asked
What do you want me to sing
Sing bread and games
Bread and games and sing a long
And so I sang
And BANG
The pianist was shot
He had too long a finger
He had too short a thumb
And he was dumb
The said and you sing
Sing bread and games
Bread and games and sing a lot
And so I sang
And BANG
The trumpeter was shot
He had too round a face
He had too long a chin
For a musician a terrible sin
And you sing
Sing bread and games
Bread and games and sing a lot
And so I sang
And BANG
Sorry we had no choice
You've got such a terrible voice
2010.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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