Related quotes: In Europe's reeking slaughter pen...

In Wartime

In Europe's reeking slaughter pen
They mince the flesh of murdered men
While swinish merchants, snout in trough
Drink all the bloody profits off!

poem by Stephan Stephansson
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Related quotes

Irritating Sky

The sky is always changing –
Can't it settle down?
Shades of blue, then reddy hue,
Puffs of grey and white;
And then it's bloody night!
At least I see a smattering
Of twinkly little things,
A silver globe occasionally
Which admittedly it brings
A sort of pleasant feeling,
Warming to the soul,
But overall it's so annoying –
Irritatingly droll!

Sky sky bloody sky, bloody sky sky
Sky sky bloody sky, sky bloody sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ship Of Fools

Hello europe here we are, everything is easy
Lets cross the border without stop
Italian pasta mixed with fine french wine would be great
My stomach knows no state
Blond girls from sweden
And if thats garden of eden
I think thats o.k.
Turkish dope found a license of the pope
Dont think thats the only way.
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools
Allright!
Belgium beer with a jgermeister-deer
Thats why we here, I think this ones not for you
And swiss francs brought to polish banks
Thats life! a hard bone to chew
I dont want no austrians be instructors
In my home I guess theres something better
Spanish guitars combined with twenty german tubas
That wont work but it really doesnt matter
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools...
Allright!
Hey, hey!
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools cheers!
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools just watch it!
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a drink in a ship of fools
Europe, europe rules!
Lets have a sink in a ship of fools
A shipper of a ship of fools, what part is that?
Europe rules, europe rules
Europe rules, watch your fools!

song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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‘To the Slaughter-house’- A Cattle-song!

To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we cows all go;
We gave men milk and butter, ghee;
They want our beef now;
We’ve no other go.

To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we oxen go;
We tilled their lands and milled oil-seeds;
They want our hide now;
We’ve no other go.

To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we sheep all go;
We grazed their meadows, eating grass;
They want our mutton now;
We’ve no other go.

To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we cattle go;
We served mankind as God said so;
Selfish men want our flesh now;
We’ve no other go.

To the slaughter-house! To the slaughter-house!
Here we animals go;
Jostled, huddled, unfed, crowded;
Men want our lives now;
This is our last ride, we all know;
We’ve no other go.

poem by John Celes
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Trans-Europe Express

Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Rendezvous on Champs-Elysees
Leave Paris in the morning on T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
In Vienna we sit in a late-night cafe
Straight connection, T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
From station to station
back to Dusseldorf City
Meet Iggy Pop and David Bowie
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express

song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mirror, Mirror, Bloody Fibber

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Can't you show me tall and slim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Must I look so bloody grim?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
You're distorting my poor waist!
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And why the heck am I defaced?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Why have I a double chin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And what's the stupid, goofy grin?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Pointless asking ‘Who’s the fairest? –
More bloody likely, 'Who’s the queerest? ’
Now look, I paid a big bucks for thee,
So why can’t you be nice to me?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Me, you say? Ah, that's better –
Mirror, mirror, bloody fibber!

Mirror mirror bloody fibber
Mirror mirror mirror ribber
Mirror mirror mirror mirror
Mirror mirror make me slimmer

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sarajevo

Now that a revolution really is needed, those who were fervent are quite cool.

While a country murdered and raped calls for help from the Europe which it had trusted, they yawn.

While statesmen choose villainy and no voice is raised to call it by name.

The rebellion of the young who called for a new earth was a sham, and that generation has written the verdict on itself.

Listening with indifference to the cries of those who perish because they are after all just barbarians killing each other.

And the lives of the well-fed are worth more than the lives of the starving.

It is revealed now that their Europe since the beginning has been a deception, for its faith and its foundation is nothingness.

And nothingness, as the prophets keep saying, brings forth only nothingness, and they will be led once again like cattle to slaughter.

Let them tremble and at the last moment comprehend that the word Sarajevo will from now on mean the destruction of their sons and the debasement of their daughters.

They prepare it by repeating: "We at least are safe," unaware that what will strike them ripens in themselves.

poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Forward Planning.

God rest ye greedy merchants all.
The time has come when you display
the tawdry goods you hope to sell
to foolish folk prepared to pay.
Much more than what your goods are worth.
To give as gifts on Christmas day
Your tills are ringing merrily
in tune with carols which you play
Creating an ambience which
encourages folks to spend.
A great deal more than otherwise
On which your profits will depend.
I have no doubt you’re planning to
make more profits at Easter too.

Saturday,27 November 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Drink

With glass, I am a man – or so I think! –
A role to play when blessed with courtly drink:
A gin or two, then vintage port or wine
To pep me up and gift me with a shine.

I know it’s false, as I now must depend
Upon my daily shots with open end.
Insidious, it all becomes routine
To beg a drink each day for self-esteem.

Life life life life life life is drink
Life life life life life life the brink
Life life life life life life is drink
Life life life life life life the brink
Life life life life life life is drink
Life life life life life life the brink
Life life life life is on the brink

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Claws loosening

One murdered a man
Who cuckolded him.
One murdered his spouse
To live with his paramour.
One murdered her spouse
To flee with her lover.
One murdered a widow
For her liaison with his father.
One murdered a man
For his affair with one’s widow mother.
Crimes of sex are not uncommon.
Why are they rampant now?
Claws loosened and instincts emboldened.
22.06.2006

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time to Strike

It seems to me necessities
grow more expensive day by day
and at the same time luxuries
cost less than what we used to pay.

The values which we hold today
are not the ones our parents knew
It seems somehow we’ve lost our way.
I am convinced that this is true.

If you can’t pay you should not buy
For credit can put up the price
The crafty merchants have to try
to pay for when they advertise.

The goods for sale we do not need.
So they increase the price of food
Pursuit of profits is their creed.
Yet still they cry misunderstood.

Perhaps its time to call a halt
and force the merchants to review
A system very much at fault
I am afraid unless we do.

Well starve to death in luxury
because we cant afford to eat.
This is not how things ought to be.
I can do nothing but repeat

It seems to me necessities
grow more expensive day by day
and that unneeded luxuries
cost less that what we used to pay.

I find it hard to understand
why we must pay more for our food.
The laws of supply and demand
unless I have misunderstood.

Say necessities should cost less
Than luxuries we do not need
and only purchase to impress.
The merchants know we have to feed.

They do not need to advertise
the foodstuffs which they know we need
but constantly increase the price.
To satisfy their endless greed.

We only have ourselves to blame.
Our apathetic attitude
ensures that we can’t win
Though I am certain that we could

We have the power we could use
to bring the merchants in to line.
If we don’t buy, point blank refuse
except on terms which we define.

They’ll very quickly change their tune
they have to sell
But we wont win if we don’t try
5-Mar-09
http: // blog.myspace.co, /poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arab leaders worry more about making money from the profits they get from oil and gas that they turn the other way when Lebanon is being destroyed right next to them. Their neighbours are being murdered, but they only make calculations for their own benefit.

quote by Abu Bakar Bashir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0-0

Long live the new flesh!
Where evil dwells
Northport, l.i.
Mutilation murder
Grisly sacrificial slaughter
Knights of the black circle
Stabbed him in the woods
At the sound of crow-call (croak-all)
He said, "i love thee, satan" (satin)
Half burnt body found
Buried in a shallow grave
Stabbed him in the throat
Stab!
Kasso killer... long live the new flesh
Where evil dwells
Northport, long island
Mutilation moider
Grisly sacrificial slaughter
Forsake your homosexuality
Half burnt body found
Kasso killer... long live the new flesh, kasso killer... long live the new flesh
Kasso killer... long live the new flesh, kasso killer... long live the new flesh
Where evil dwells
Northport long island
Half burnt body found
Naked in a leather mask
Mutilation murder
Kasso killer... long live the new flesh, kasso killer... long live the new flesh
Kasso killer... long live the new flesh, kasso killer... long live the new flesh
Long live the new flesh... long live the new flesh
Long live the new flesh... long live the new flesh
Long live the new flesh... long live the new flesh
Long live the new flesh... long live the new flesh
Long live the new flesh... long live the new flesh
Long!

song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Semantics Of Animal Objectification

to bag: verb for to kill a deer or other animal
to harvest: verb for to kill an elk or other animal
cull: a 3rd verb for murdering animals
thin the herd: phrase for murdering animals
pork: objectivist term for subdivided murdered pigs
beef.: objectivist term for subdivided murdered cows
mutton: objectivist term for subdivided murdered sheep
veal: objectivist term for a baby cow's murdered flesh
pate: objectivist term for the smashed livers of tortured geese
The word bovine is struck from tuberculosis to obscure
the disease causing nature of cows' milk
Kine Pox or Cow Pox: changed to smallpox to obscure
the eating of cowflesh as an origin of the disease
Wool Sorters' Disease.. changed to anthrax
study: verb for kidnapping, torturing and murdering lab animals
pith: to shove a needle into the brain of a living frog
field dress: to remove the skin from a mammal, pull out his
intestines etc.
stock market: term for many corporations invested in animal
and people slaughter

clear: to murder many trees
pluck: to kill a flower
mow: to decapitate dandelions, shred sapling trees

poem by Anna Hridaya
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Bloody Luxury

(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...

song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Companies are not charitable enterprises: They hire workers to make profits. In the United States, this logic still works. In Europe, it hardly does.

quote by Paul Samuelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Europeans and Americans residing in the town of Zanzibar are either Government officials, independent merchants, or agents for a few great mercantile houses in Europe and America.

quote by Henry Morton Stanley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salad is Incompatible with Life

Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.

Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good

For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!

I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!

But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!

food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Pulling Through

Arthur herzog jr. / irene kitchings
Im pulling trough and its because of you!
When I was stranded came your helping hand
Lonely, hurt I had not known which way to turn
til you said, try smiles, not tears, just laugh and learn
Im pulling trough and its because of you!
You made me see how lovely life could be
Lifted up my heart and made me count the cost
To find Id gained, not lost!
When I thought that hope was really gone
You showed me I was wrong
And you taught me how to carry on
Thanks for the lift in time and thanks for this song!
Im pulling trough and its because of you!
Id do the same for youif your turn came
Hope it never will
For Ive been though the mill
I wont get this debt
Im pulling trough

song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

In Wartime

Related quotes

Irritating Sky

Ship Of Fools

‘To the Slaughter-house’- A Cattle-song!

Trans-Europe Express

Mirror, Mirror, Bloody Fibber

Sarajevo

Forward Planning.

A Drink

Claws loosening

Time to Strike

0-0

Semantics Of Animal Objectification

Bloody Luxury

Salad is Incompatible with Life

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Im Pulling Through

En.Citatepedia^®.ro