The Hard
Here on the Hard, you're welcome to pull up and stay;
there's a flat fee of a quid for parking all day.
And wandering over the dunes, who wouldn't die
for the view: an endless estate of beach, the sea
kept out of the bay by the dam-wall of the sky.
Notice the sign, with details of last year's high tides.
Walk on, drawn to the shipwreck, a mirage of masts
a mile or so out, seemingly true and intact
but scuttled to serve as a target, and fixed on
by eyeballs staring from bird-hides lining the coast.
The vast, weather-washed, cornerless state of our mind
begins on the Hard; the Crown lays claim to the shore
between low tide and dry land, the country of sand,
but the moon is law. Take what you came here to find.
Stranger, the ticket you bought for a pound stays locked
in the car, like a butterfly trapped under glass;
stamped with the time, it tells us how taken you are,
how carried away by now, how deep and how far.
poem by Simon Armitage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Weather Warming Up A Bit
The weather warming up a bit it's getting warm today
And people for the weekend will be heading for the bay
To do a bit of fishing and relax by the sea
To surf or go skin diving or have a sea side tea.
It's nice to leave suburbia it's nice to get away
If only for the weekend for a brief holiday
To walk along the tide line salt water to your knees
or sit back from the high cliffs and feel the ocean breeze.
A weekend from suburbia to breathe the ocean air
To lay out on the sand dunes on beach reclining chair
A short break from pollution and the humid and noisy street
Down by the country coast line a different sort of heat.
November is upon us and Summer days are nigh
And weather getting warmer the weather glass is high
And not one sign of rain cloud in blue and sunny sky
And myna's song sounds sweeter as Spring goes laughing by.
The traffic will be heavy on the coastal highway
From 4 p m till after dark on evening of friday
As people leave suburbia mum, dad and family
And drive towards coastal country town for weekend by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger On The Shore
You stand near the sand dunes,
a stranger on the shore.
You stand there in black,
colours widows wore,
staring out at the restless sea,
knowing he will come back never more.
Everyday I see you there
as I walk along the shore.
Oh restless spirit, he is at peace now,
in the cradle of the deep.
His soul is in heaven waiting for you,
yet you are still restless,
as your time has passed.
You can go to the light now.
Your weeping should end.
Go find your peace in heaven evermore,
no longer be a stranger on the shore
29 June 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suffocate
The wall of distress is where my boundaries stop to absorb my call -
I am out of breath, by suffocating i breathe -
I want to turn, too late is where i flame, the fires that burn -
The bridge into time, collapsed in my mind -
Pillars of strength, washed by the waves, away without signs -
The dunes of sand, trapped inside the glass, mirrors only display nomads land -
Walk I do, bitter is better, sanity cracks with the animals true to a zoo -
Last to the ladder, next to the wonders of Alice, I wear the dress, I am the Madhatter -
Destruction to perfection, I found success in the motion of corrosion
poem by Unic Cjonr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Dunes
Drive along the sea
Far from the citys twitch and smoke
To a misty beach
Thats where my life became a joke
On the dunes
On the dunes
(became a joke on the dunes)
Where rents are high
And seabirds cry
On the dunes
As you spoke you must have known
It was a kind of homicide
I stood and watched my happiness
Drift outwards with the tide
On the dunes
On the dunes
(homicide on the dunes)
It wasnt fair
Its brutal there
On the dunes
Pretty boats
Sweeping along the shore
In the faltering light
Pretty women
With their lovers by their side
Its like an awful dream
I have most every night
In the summer all the swells
Join in the search for sun and sand
For me its just a joyless place
Where this loneliness began
On the dunes
On the dunes
(loneliness on the dunes)
Im pretty tough
But the wind is rough
On the dunes
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who are you?
Are you a chameleon?
Always slow and innocent
Ostensibly minding own business
But really employing your camouflage
To escape suspicion and notice
From hideous crimes perpetrated
Are you a mirage?
Always basking in the blazing sun
Seemingly within easy reach
But using your ability to swing swiftly
To avoid a mere touch
Selfishly ensuring your safety.
Are you quick-sand
Always appearing harmless
Obviously just sand to be trodden on
Deceptively using you resemblance of sand
To invite people to trample on you
Swallowing them in the process.
Are you a fair-weather friend
Around when the going is good
Seen when happiness is the mood
Present when partying is the mode
But melts away during hard times
And is never a witness to high tide
Are you an all-weather friend
Around for better or for worse
Seen during parties and funerals
Sincerely sharing in pleasure and pain
A faithful friend in real need
A firm friend indeed.
poem by Emmanuel Oduro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Killing An Arab (live)
Standing on a beach
With a gun in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring down the barrel
At the arab on the ground
See his open mouth
But hear no sound
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
I can turn and walk away
Or I can fire the gun
Staring at the sky
Staring at the sun
Whichever I choose
It amounts to the same
Absolutely nothing
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
Feel the steel butt jump
Smooth in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring at myself
Reflected in the eyes of
The dead man on the beach
The dead man
On the beach
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Killing An Arab
Standing on the beach
With a gun in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring down the barrel
At the arab on the ground
I can see his open mouth
But i hear no sound
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
I can turn
And walk away
Or i can fire the gun
Staring at the sky
Staring at the sun
Whichever i chose
It amounts to the same
Absolutely nothing
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
I feel the steel butt jump
Smooth in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring at myself
Reflected in the eyes
Of the dead man on the beach
The dead man on the beach
I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On This Beach...
Life is a beach.
There are jellyfish. And sea urchins…the painful bumps along the road that we all encounter in life. On this beach.
In life..and on a beach there is warm water-like times, when we are happy, and have good times and enjoy living. On this beach.
We also have times, like a beach, when we have cold water times; when we are sad, or upset about losing someone or something. On this beach.
There are rough times, the same way the sea has rough water that pounds angrily against the shore. On this beach.
Life, like the sea, has high and low times, or tides. There is low tide when you think u can no longer go on, that life has done too much damage to you. Then the tide comes back in…and you are reminded that life goes on. Life gets better. You cannot give up on life, like you can’t give up on a beach because of a rough day or low tides. On this beach.
Life has sharks. Maybe not the same sharks from a beach, but they are there. They are the people that thrive on your pain and tears and hardship, the same way a shark sustains itself through brutal killing of unaware seals who don’t know what is coming or how bad it is. The sharks are there. Waiting. For someone…for you…like an unsuspecting seal, to come along and unknowingly become trapped in their lies and hurt. On this beach.
Life…has good times. Wonderful times where the only thoughts you have are about how much life is worth living and how much you love life. It is like the clear, cool blue water on a beautiful day at the beach. On this beach.
Life has those amazing people….akin to the beachgoers on a sandy shore…just along for the ride…to enjoy the good…and pack up and leave when it rains or something goes wrong. But there are the surfers..the daredevils…going back into the fear and love of the sea….of life. They risk the sharks, and jellyfish, and rough water and low and high tides, not because they are invincible, but because they know about the good that is to be had in this world. On this beach.
Life is so comparable to a beach…most importantly in that it has sand like a beach. Billions upon billions of unique grains of sand, like the 7 billion different people in this world, on this beach.
poem by Dark Fallout
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Path Of Mirrors
They walk so close to you, yet so far away
Their eyes are lost, their faces fixed like stone
They walk behind the mirrors and here they shall stay
You walk with other souls liveng, breathing, yet for them they are alone
You walk through the hall way down the path of glass
You watch as they walk on into eternity, into the dark
They walk there behind the glass,
People around you going through leaving their mark.
They walk past your reflection as if you never saw
They walk through time as if time weren’t there
They know you would never aproach them
They know you would never dare.
They walk through the glass and look straight ahead,
They know nothing lies ahead, yet they know they can not turn back,
So they walk into nothing instead,
Passing you so all you see is their back.
You pause infront of the glass looking looking past,
You know that you shall not join them you know it is not your fate
You think about the footsteps you take, wondering which shall be your last,
You walk on again only thinking of their fate
Their faces emotionless the souls so cold,
You think of how you own skin feels, so warm,
You watch as the move like action figures made from a mold,
All the same, all waiting out the storm
The storm of life, the storm of death,
You walk along side them as they walk past everyone,
They watch ahead never turning, never looking above,
They turn to noone.
You walk along beside them as they take no notice to lifes dance,
They only walk past, walk through the mirrors of fate,
Kepping one great stance,
You watch people finding their fate.
Their faces so still, alone in the world, without hope
You watch them walk on, you watch them pass
You see their unmoving faces, as they walk up the endless slope
They walk along, behind the glass.
You turn to watch as their souls move on,
You reach out your hand to touch the glass,
Only to feel the glass is gone,
You watch as your hand passes through the glass.
As you hand melts through one by one the spirits turn,
One takes your hand and pulls your arm through,
More spirits feel your presence and more turn,
They watch as you melt through.
You watch your world leave as you leave it,
You have found you fate and not you are here along with them,
They walk on as you pull your body through, leaving behind the sweater of life you knit,
You have come and joined them.
You look back at the mirror to look at your face,
And you see your eyes becoming lost,
As you enter their race,
The race that shall never end, the race through eternity, for now you are lost
You skin feels so cold you face feels so hard,
You walk with them, as one
As you emotions turn hard,
In true time you are done.
You walk with them, walk alone
They walk so close to you, yet so far away
As everything becomes an endless drone,
For now you are here to stay.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hat Too Flat
We come in on the morning scan
All the way from far arcturus
Bringing with us peace and good will
From the margins of space and time
Our women are slung down low to the ground
Theyre very good youve probably had one
Our men are brave, studly and wise,
A pleasure to behold
Right away we walk the walk
More or less we talk the talk
But every time we make our play
Their eyes get wide they run away
cause the hat stays too flat
My hat is way too flat
My english she is much better now
But my hat remains too flat
The man smells a rat
And thats the end of that
My english it is more better now
But my hat is still too flat
Fair arcturus fashion forecast:
Skirts will be shorter
Legs stay long
Virtual raincoats are coming back
Hats as always continued flat
Back at home the machines work hard
We folk like to take it easy
Honing our awareness of
The finer things of life
Here when I go down to my job
I work hard for what seems like a long time
I look at my watch: fifteen minutes
It felt like half a day!
Soon enough we break for lunch
Me and the boys now Im one of the bunch
But no one wants to sit with me
So tell me what can the matter be?
The hat stays too flat
My hat is way too flat
My english she is much better now
But the hat is just too flat
A little thing like that
They dont get past the hat
My english it is more better now
But my hat remains too flat
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One fine Day: perhaps for J T Ellison
The sea lies millpond calm and still, obedient to the Goddess’ will.
She has decreed it must be so and thus the ocean far below.
Represses its own urgent needs and to the Goddess’ will accedes.
Its gleaming surface satin smooth. It has no choice to tell the truth
The mistress of both sea and sky.Sees no good reason to say why.
She chose serenity tonight; she rules the sea and has the right
to give instructions to sea which must obey immediately.
Sometimes she lets the breakers roar as they approach the rocky shore.
The daily tides which ebb and flow, she will allow to come and go.
Although there is no urgency she knows of their necessity
The high tide will sweep clean the beach and leave behind its furthest reach.
A tide line marked by oddities which have been carried on the seas
From here and there and everywhere. Jetsam which can be foul or fair. Beachcombers will explore to see what treasures they can take for free.
Though they prefer the aftermath of some fierce storm that shows the wrath of the ocean in angry mood. Because they have long understood.
The treasures which they hope to find, an angry sea will leave behind.
A tranquil night produces less of valuables that will impress.
The early birds who comb the beach above the high tides which can reach much further when theres been a storm and far exceed their usual norm.
Tomorrow morning they will find the sea has not left much behind.
But they will still search carefully because they think that there might be
some treasure they have missed before. When they have searched the sandy shore
Beach combers are a hopeful breed, they know one day they will succeed.
Grow rich beyond their wildest dreams their heads are full of madcap schemes
of what they’ll do as wealthy men but keep on searching until then.
It has been known before today that some beachcombers came away
with golden doubloons by the score which they discovered on the shore.
I do not claim this can’t be true. I think such finds are rare and few.
I have researched the evidence and find that most is sheer nonsense.
But local legends long endure although no one can say for sure.
That any treasure ship was wrecked along this coast but I suspect.
That it makes little difference, dreamers aren’t known for common sense.
8-Jan-09
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Biased silence
The same ball of fire
At the distant corner
With the same flame
With the fragrance
Of firmament
Sweet and delicate
Of the same dawn
In the transparent
Moment of my journey
I feel tired
Like the morning dog
A weight
Pressing me down
Feel sleepy
Over the vast space
Pull and push
A tug of war
As witness the waves
By the cat walk of the moon
The effect of the strike
Of the high tides
Visible
At the surface
The causes
Of the over flow
Of the blood- brook
For a piece of land
I can not find
But hear the cacophony
Of the biased silence
And touch the statue of the stoic mind
My senses completely betrayed
No one tells me
Even I am refused
By the sweet breeze
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Walls And Oceans
Cold winds strip away face, hands, ankles
stand bare foot on the empty shore
staring out at the endless ocean
sea of happiness
ocean of tears
water and horizon are indivisible
like the atoms that make up everything
if they are divided
every one dies
stay close to the wall
hidden, unnoticed, quiet, landlocked
watch them live, love, laugh
stay deep in side the glass shell
I can see out but I cant hear or touch them
wanting it to explode into a thousand tiny shell pieces
glass fragments
tear drops
soul pieces
so i can race over the land to the waters edge
and burst out over the ocean
into living
away from the wall
Lost And Found
You know the question, find the answer
Stirring deep within your mind
Don't Have to Promise, You have a reason
For what it is you need to find
I was searching, until I found it
And I saw it in you
It seems so real, but I can feel me
Getting closer to you
If clocks could stop, time wouldn't waste
And I could tell you once more
That we are running, without eachother
There's not much to live for
I tried to find, the side you hide,
The side that pushes me away,
You're standing close so, I can tell you
That I wish you would stay
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you, no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
As days go by, you're fading faster
Looking for something new
It's hard to notice, you're looking past me
When I'm right within your view
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you, no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
It's been a bumpy road
I'll try to carry your load
I'll try to understand
Your fate is in your hands
If you could see my side
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
We were lost and now we're found
song performed by by 1208
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What The Stone Said
This stone: scraps of wet earth
still clinging to it;
rounded, greyish; large enough
to fit into my palm as if,
cradled there, it’s enough part of me
to tell me that it’s more than
inert matter without consciousness..
its pleasing roundness – warming
in my hand – tells me a little
of its history:
once it was one of many, jostled
over years or centuries in
a river or an ocean bed;
to be thrown up, again and again,
from the maw of breaking, angry wave
onto a beach; then at some high tide,
pulled back again;
it’s covered with its history:
a mass of scratches where a fiercer sand
from the hierarchy of stone’s hardnesses,
scratched it; to be soothed and smoothed
by its fellow sufferers on the watered bed.
Warm in my cradling palm, it shares
or so it seems, my own consciousness:
the same consciousness as all Creation’s wonders,
but here in supreme, uncomplaining,
inexpressive, yielding pure obedience:
a sermon in a stone; awaiting future call
to be raised up a man..
no wonder - as all children know –
‘beach’ (and can’t you hear there,
tread of feet on hard, resistant, partially
yielding stones?)
and ‘shore’ (and can’t you hear there
the waves smoothe the sand,
then draw back to crash again
like a drawn breath of astonishment?
- as children know: beach and shore
full of their shared consciousness;
God’s playground which he shares with them.
That was what the stone said.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When my body arrives at the shore
When the time comes.
And my body washes up on the shore.
Be it not a shock to you please.
I didn't want tohurt you.
When my bloated body arrives at deaths shore.
Washed up and battered I'm dead on the shore.
And have arrived at deaths door.
Yes I was scared kind of.
But I knew it would over and done.
I knew it wouldn't be long to die.
Here lays my body at deaths shore.
I am dead of that you can be sure.
I am sorry of that you are to be sure.
I loved you that's for sure.
I could'nt stay with pains shore.
So Here I am at deaths shore.
I couldn't go on like this.
Here I lay washed up on the shore.
Iam now in deaths door
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Road to Hogan's Gap
Now look, you see, it’s this way like,
You cross the broken bridge
And run the crick down till you strike
The second right-hand ridge.
The track is hard to see in parts,
But still it’s pretty clear;
There’s been two Injin hawkers’ carts
Along that road this year.
Well, run that right-hand ridge along—
It ain’t, to say, too steep—
There’s two fresh tracks might put you wrong
Where blokes went out with sheep.
But keep the crick upon your right,
And follow pretty straight
Along the spur, until you sight
A wire and sapling gate.
Well, that’s where Hogan’s old grey mare
Fell off and broke her back;
You’ll see her carcase layin’ there,
Jist down below the track.
And then you drop two mile, or three,
It’s pretty steep and blind;
You want to go and fall a tree
And tie it on behind.
And then you pass a broken cart
Below a granite bluff;
And that is where you strike the part
They reckon pretty rough.
But by the time you’ve got that far
It’s either cure or kill,
So turn your horses round the spur
And face ’em up the hill.
For look, if you should miss the slope
And get below the track,
You haven’t got the whitest hope
Of ever gettin’ back.
An’ half way up you’ll see the hide
Of Hogan’s brindled bull;
Well, mind and keep the right-hand side,
The left’s too steep a pull.
And both the banks is full of cracks;
An’ just about at dark
You’ll see the last year’s bullock tracks
Where Hogan drew the bark.
The marks is old and pretty faint—
And grown with scrub and such;
Of course the track to Hogan’s ain’t
A road that’s travelled much.
But turn and run the tracks along
For half a mile or more,
And then, of course, you can’t go wrong—
You’re right at Hogan’s door.
When first you come to Hogan’s gate
He mightn’t show, perhaps;
He’s pretty sure to plant and wait
To see it ain’t the traps.
I wouldn’t call it good enough
To let your horses out;
There’s some that’s pretty extra rough
Is livin’ round about.
It’s likely if your horses did
Get feedin’ near the track,
It’s goin’ to cost at least a quid
Or more to get them back.
So, if you find they’re off the place,
It’s up to you to go
And flash a quid in Hogan’s face—
He’ll know the blokes that know.
But listen—if you’re feelin’ dry,
Just see there’s no one near,
And go and wink the other eye
And ask for ginger beer.
The blokes come in from near and far
To sample Hogan’s pop;
They reckon once they breast the bar
They stay there till they drop.
On Sundays you can see them spread
Like flies around the tap.
It’s like that song “The Livin’ Dead”
Up there at Hogan’s Gap.
They like to make it pretty strong
Whenever there’s a charnce;
So when a stranger comes along
They always holds a dance.
There’s recitations, songs, and fights—
A willin’ lot you’ll meet.
There’s one long bloke up there recites,
I tell you—he’s a treat.
They’re lively blokes all right up there,
It’s never dull a day.
I’d go meself if I could spare
The time to get away.
. . . . .
The stranger turned his horses quick.
He didn’t cross the bridge;
He didn’t go along the crick
To strike the second ridge;
He didn’t make the trip, because
He wasn’t feeling fit.
His business up at Hogan’s was
To serve him with a writ.
He reckoned if he faced the pull
And climbed the rocky stair,
The next to come might find his hide
A land-mark on the mountain side,
Along with Hogan’s brindled bull
And Hogan’s old grey mare!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish
Come on up, hey little darling
That was the way when I first met you baby
You werent right for me
I didnt really care
Act quite naturally
She said
Went on a boat going down by the river
Plenty more supplies
Seen a lot of planes going up in the air
Do you ever get the feeling
That you want to fly like a bird in the sky
Hey lucille, youll be the talk of the town
Lucille hey, youll be the talk of the town
She met a young man called johnnie
He played a little mean guitar
No matter how hard I try
I want to fly like a bird in the sky
I want to fly like a bird in the sky
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
Living the night, doing it wrong
Its a little lonely without you
The feeling was strong
The world was holding on
I want to be on my own
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
Wont you stay with me
Take from me what I take form you
You can take from me what I find in you
Come on, tell me, tell me, tell me
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
Hey, I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
Say I cant get by without your love
Say I cant get by without your love
Say I cant get by without your love
Say I cant get by without your love
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
I wish I could take time
I wish oh I wish so hard
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Hard
Any tough can fight - few can play
Any tough can fight - few can play
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any man can claim - few can find
Any man can claim - few can find
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Everyone complains - few can state
Everyone complains - few can state
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card
So Im thinking about my life now
So Im thinking about my life now
Im thinking very hard
Im thinking very hard
Deal me another hand lord, this ones very hard
Deal me another hand lord, this ones very hard
Deal me another hand lord, this ones very hard
Deal me another hand lord, this ones very hard
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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