Homage to Hieronymus Bosch
A woman with no face walked into the light;
A boy, in a brown-tree norfolk suit,
Holding on
Without hands
To her seeming skirt.
She stopped,
And he stopped,
And I, in terror, stopped, staring.
Then I saw a group of shadowy figures behind her.
It was a wild wet morning
But the little world was spinning on.
Liplessly, somehow, she addressed it:
The book must be opened
And the park too.
I might have tittered
But my teeth chattered
And I saw that the words, as they fell,
Lay, wriggling, on the ground.
There was a stir of wet wind
And the shadowy figures began to stir
When one I had thought dead
Filmed slowly out of his great effigy on a tomb near by
And they all shuddered
He bent as if to speak to the woman
But the nursery governor flew up out of the well of Saint Patrick,
Confiscated by his mistress,
And, his head bent,
Staring out over his spectacles,
And scratching the gravel furiously, Hissed -
The words went pingg! like bullets,
Upwards, past his spectacles
Say nothing, I say, say nothing, say nothing!
And he who had seemed to be coming to life
Gasped,
Began hysterically, to laugh and cry,
And, with a gesture of impotent and half-petulant despair,
Filmed back into his effigy again.
High above the Bank of Ireland
Unearthly music sounded,
Passing westwards.
Then, from the drains,
Small sewage rats slid out.
They numbered hundreds of hundreds, tens, thousands.
Each bowed obsequiously to the shadowy figures
Then turned and joined in a stomach dance with his brothers and sisters.
Being a multitude, they danced irregularly.
There was rat laughter, Deeper here and there,
And occasionally she-rats grew hysterical.
The shadowy figures looked on, agonized.
The woman with no face gave a cry and collapsed.
The rats danced on her
And on the wriggling words
Smirking.
The nursery governor flew back into the well
With the little figure without hands in the brown-tree clothes.
poem by Thomas MacGreevy
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Related quotes
Night-Scented Stock
White, white in the milky night
The moon danced over a tree.
"Wouldn't it be lovely to swim in the lake!"
Someone whispered to me.
"Oh, do-do-do!" cooed someone else,
And clasped her hands to her chin.
"I should so love to see the white bodies--
All the white bodies jump in!"
The big dark house hid secretly
Behind the magnolia and the spreading pear-tree;
But there was a sound of music--music rippled and ran
Like a lady laughing behind her fan,
Laughing and mocking and running away...
"Come into the garden--it's as light as day!"
"I can't dance to that Hungarian stuff,
The rhythm in it is not passionate enough,"
Said somebody. "I absolutely refuse...."
But he took off his socks and his shoes
And round he spun. "It's like Hungarian fruit dishes
Hard and bright--a mechanical blue!"
His white feet flicked in the grass like fishes...
Someone cried: "I want to dance, too!"
But one with a queer Russian ballet head
Curled up on a blue wooden bench instead.
And another, shadowy--shadowy and tall--
Walked in the shadow of the dark house wall,
Someone beside her. It shone in the gloom,
His round grey hat, like a wet mushroom.
"Don't you think perhaps..." piped someone's flute.
"How sweet the flowers smell!" I heard the other say.
Somebody picked a wet, wet pink,
Smelled it and threw it away.
"Is the moon a virgin or is she a harlot?"
Asked somebody. Nobody would tell.
The faces and the hands moved in a pattern
As the music rose and fell,
In a dancing, mysterious, moon-bright pattern
Like flowers nodding under the sea...
The music stopped and there was nothing left of them
But the moon dancing over the tree.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Figures.
Now year five,
Hundred and seventy five not alive.
This figure, we are told,
The 'dead' figure we are 'sold'.
Yes everyone an hero,
Every praise we bestow.
However there is another stat',
Continually an 'unknown' fact.
Hundreds wounded and maimed,
People and figures hardly named.
Too much an embarrassment,
The truth is 'inconvenient.'
Figures not revealed,
They remain concealed.
The true cost of the war,
And what it is for!
20/03/08
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Home Truths
Seeking a Truth
The sewers under the abortion clinic
is where successful rats live and only
the strongest survives.
From the bland food of suburbia and
narrow minded excrements, unwilling
given back to the drains and nature.
These big rats have survived to sit by
the top table and be respected as those
who deserves a prize for endurance.
They live on sludge of fetuses, tiny fingers
small, beating hearts; also, clean livers;
and the rats grow and reason as humans
Rich rats now have an army of lesser
rats to defend them, nothing last always,
but for some it ended before it began.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Admit The Rat (Interlude)
I got a story
bout all these rats
all the sewer rats
all these gun rats
im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
these hood rats
my grandmothers a rat
she's just an old school rat
my mothers a rat
she's just a high class rat
my sisters rats
she's just a middle class rat
my cousins rats
they just low class rats
im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
but ond day these rats are gonna be straight
no diss to rats
cuz there are some rats that i love too
my message to you today is admit the rat in you
to all women admitt the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Coming Out Of A Monkey's Head
Once upon a time at the foot of a great mountain,
There was a town where the people known as Happyfolk lived.
Their very existence a mystery to the rest of the world,
Abscured as it was by grey clouds.
Here they played out their peaceful lives,
Innocent of the litany of excess and violence
That was growing in the world below.
To live in harmony with the spirit of the mountain called Monkey was enough.
Then one day Strangefolk arrived in the town.
They came in camouflage, hidden behind dark glasses,
But no one noticed them: they only saw shadows.
You see, without the Truth of the Eyes, the Happyfolk were blind.
Falling out of aeroplanes and hiding out in holes,
Waiting for the sunset to come, people goin' home.
Jump out from behind them and shoot them in the head,
Now everybody's dancing the dance of the dead,
The dance of the dead, the dance of the dead.
In time, Strangefolk found their way into the high reaches of the mountain,
And it was there that they found the Caves of Unimaginable Sincerity and Giving.
By chance, they stumbled upon the Place Where All Good Souls Come to Rest.
The Strangefolk, they coveted the jewels in these caves above all things,
And soon they began to mine the mountain, its rich seam fueling the chaos of their own world.
Meanwhile, down in the town, the Happyfolk slept restlessly,
Their dreams invaded by shadowy figures digging away at their souls.
Every day, people would wake and stare at the mountain.
Why was it bringing darkness into their lives?
And as the Strangefolk mined deeper and deeper into the mountain,
Holes began to appear, bringing with them a cold and bitter wind that chilled the very soul of them up.
For the first time, the Happyfolk felt fearful for they knew that soon the Monkey would soon stir from its deep sleep.
And then came a sound.
Distant first, it grew into castrophany so immense it could be heard far away in space.
There were no screams.
There was no time.
The mountain called Monkey had spoken.
There was only fire.
And then, nothing.
O little town in U.S.A, your time has come to see
There's nothing you believe you want
But where were you when it all came down on me?
Did you call me now?
song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Destruction And Salvation
The buildings were collapsing all around
People screaming then falling down
Than not making a sound.
(I smiled)
The ground started opening up
And people falling in.
(I smiled)
The sea waters overflowed on the land
Bringing destruction, mud, and sand.
(I smiled)
The skies turned completely black
And the sounds of the lightning’s cracked.
(I smiled)
A man stopped me and asked:
Why do you smile when the world
around you is falling down?
I responded: I smile because the lord walks
by my side, and fills my heart and soul.
I grabbed his hands- “ and he smiled”
Let me walk with you, for I also felt him too.
We walked hand in hand through this barren land.
Other people stopped and asked the same question.
Then took our hands and joined us too.
The salvation of the world was coming true.
Faith, hope, love, was following thru.
As the people joined and held hands
The destruction began to cease.
And in peoples hearts
They found relief and peace.
When they looked there were thousands
Holding each others hands
For this was - part of gods plan.
poem by Louis Rams
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Figures Don't Lie (edited)
you must understand that what costs
us sleepless nights
and these ugly eye-bags are not
really the words, but the
numbers,
yes the numbers those digits
those symbols
they are the least common
denominators
and numbers are figures and figures
as you must have been briefed by the famous adage department
figures do not lie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Admit The Rat
I got a story
Bout all these rats
All the sewer rats
All these gun rats
Im talkin bout all these gold diggen rats
These hood rats
My grandmothers a rat
Shes just an old school rat
My mothers a rat
Shes just a high class rat
My sisters rats
Shes just a middle class rat
My cousins rats
They just low class rats
Im tired of rats tryin to get into my boyz pockets
Im tired of rats tryin to ride around in my cars
Im tired of rats talkin all that jibber jabber to their friends
But ond day these rats are gonna be straight
No diss to rats
Cuz there are some rats that I love too
My message to you today is admit the rat in you
To all women admitt the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
Admit the rat in you
song performed by by Next
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They're To Succeed
Passing by they stopped and parked
Such lovely blossom seems so sweet.
Gladly indeed they thought it's a treat
They rushed in! Out came a swarm of bees
The bees cried chop, cho. They're a happy fleet
They watched them keep busy around the tree.
In this world of ours, it there wild world.
Funny these people never stopped to ask
They've to achieved between those tree.
God provided and restored life indeed
All on there own enjoying the breeze around the tree.
Know hand out stretched in the tree
They roam through the field to succeed
Move from three to tree to fulfill their needs
Stopped in all most every tree they meet
They have to survive on the ground to the tree.
poem by Delores V. Bogle
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A Woman & A Man
I took a walk today
To where the ocean meets the sky
I thought about the way
They always say love never dies
And as the sun went down
I saw a lovers silhouette
A woman and a man
In a dance I envied them
I thought of you
I loved you so
I dont know why
I let you go
A woman and a man
A love so close
Walk hand in hand
While Im alone
A woman and a man
A love embrace
He turned his head
I saw his face
Could it be you
Yes, it was you
A woman and a man
I had to turn away
I hoped you wouldnt see me there
I thought about the way
You used to say I didnt care
And as you walked on by
I pulled my scarf across my face
And I began to cry
For all the love Id thrown away
But there you were
Like in a dream
You were with her
And not with me
A woman and a man
A love so close
Walk hand in hand
While Im alone
A woman and a man
A love embrace
He turned his head
I saw his face
Could it be you
Yes, it was you
A woman and a man
A woman and a man
A woman and a man
A woman and a man
We were so close. baby
Guess you never know
Just how precious love is
til youve had it and held it
And let it go
A woman and a man
A love so close
Walk hand in hand
While Im alone
A woman and a man
A love embrace
He turned his head
I saw his face
Could it be you
Yes, it was you
A woman and a man
A woman and a man
A woman and a man
A woman and a man
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lover's Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins
Take back your coins, King's Councillor. I am of those women you
sent to the forest shrine to decoy the young ascetic who had never
seen a women. I failed in your bidding.
Dimly day was breaking when the hermit boy came to bathe in
the stream, his tawny locks crowded on his shoulders, like a
cluster of morning clouds, and his limbs shining like a streak of
sunbeam. We laughed and sang as we rowed in our boat; we jumped
into the river in a mad frolic, and danced around him, when the sun
rose staring at us from the water's edge in a flush of divine
anger.
Like a child-god, the boy opened his eyes and watched our
movements, the wonder deepening till his eyes shone like morning
stars. He lifted his clasped hands and chanted a hymn of praise in
his bird-like young voice, thrilling every leaf of the forest.
Never such words were sung to a mortal woman before; they were like
the silent hymn to the dawn which rises from the hushed hills. THe
women hid their mouths with their hands, their bodies swaying with
laughter, and a spasm of doubt ran across his face. Quickly came
I to his side, sorely pained, and, bowing to his feet, I said,
"Lord, accept my service."
I led him to the grassy bank, wiped his body with the end of
my silken mantle, and, kneeling on the ground, I dried his feet
with my trailing hair. When I raised my face and looked into his
eyes, I thought I felt the world's first kiss to the first woman,
-Blessed am I, blessed is God, who made me a woman. I heard him say
to me, "What God unknown are you? YOur touch is the touch of the
Immortal, your eyes have the mystery of the midnight."
Ah, no, not that smile, King's Councillor, -the dust of
worldly wisdom has covered your sight, old man. But this boy's
innocence pierced the mist and saw the shining truth, the woman
divine....
The women clapped their hands, and laughed their obscene
laugh, and with veils dragged on the dust and hair hanging loose
they began to pelt him with flowers.
Alas, my spotless sun, could not my shame weave fiery mist to
cover you in its folds? I fell at his feet and cried, "Forgive me.
" I fled like a stricken deer through shade and sun, and cried as
I fled, " Forgive me. " The women's foul laughter pressed me like
a cracking fire, but the words ever rang in my ears, " What God
unknown are you?"
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Lake Josephus Days
We left Little Redfish for Lake Josephus, traveling along the good names — from Stanley to Capehorn to Seafoam to the Rapid River, up Float Creek, past the Greyhound Mine and then to Lake Josephus, and a few days after that up the trail to Hell-diver Lake with the baby on my shoulders and a good limit of trout waiting in Hell-diver.
Knowing the trout would wait there like airplane tickets for us to come, we stopped at Mushroom Springs and had a drink of cold shadowy water and some photographs taken of the baby and me sitting together on a log.
I hope someday we'll have enough money to get those pictures developed. Sometimes I get curious about them, wondering if they will turn out all right. They are in suspension now like seeds in a package. I'll be older when they are developed and easier to please. Look there's the baby! Look there's Mushroom Springs! Look there's me!
I caught the limit of trout within an hour of reaching Hell-diver, and my woman, in all the excitement of good fishing, let the baby fall asleep directly in the sun and when the baby woke up, she puked and I carried her back down the trail.
My woman trailed silently behind, carrying the rods and the fish. The baby puked a couple more times, thimblefuls of gentle lavender vomit, but still it got on my clothes, and her face was hot and flushed.
We stopped at Mushroom Springs. I gave her a small drink of water, not too much, and rinsed the vomit taste out of her mouth. Then I wiped the puke off my clothes and for some strange reason suddenly it was a perfect time, there at Mushroom Springs, to wonder whatever happened to the Zoot suit.
Along with World War II and the Andrews Sisters, the Zoot suit had been very popular in the early 40s. I guess they were all just passing fads.
A sick baby on the trail down from Hell-diver, July 1961, is probably a more important question. It cannot be left to go on forever, a sick baby to take her place in the galaxy, among the comets, bound to pass close to the earth every 173 years.
She stopped puking after Mushroom Springs, and I carried her back down along the path in and out of the shadows and across other nameless springs, and by the time we got down to Lake Josephus, she was all right.
She was soon running around with a big cutthroat trout in her hands, carrying it like a harp on her way to a concert — ten minutes late with no bus in sight and no taxi either.
poem by Richard Brautigan
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The Enchanted Wood (Part 3)
As the door opened, he could see
the room was filled with people.
They looked at him as he entered
everyone smiled saying good evening.
He was ushered to the top of the table
and seated beside a beautiful young woman.
Her smile radiated the room
with light and warmth.
“Hello, you must be Lord Charles
my husband to be.
I am Princess Juliet.”
Her voice flowed through him
like a river of tranquillity.
At first, he was not sure
just what to say to her.
He stumbled over his words
and it made her laugh.
Suddenly he was at ease
and it seemed they were
the only two in the room
and when he looked around,
they were the only two
everyone else had disappeared.
As they chatted he felt at home,
a home he could only have wished for.
They ate and talked
and when they had finished
the food and the dishes disappeared.
Suddenly as if by magic,
an orchestra began playing.
They got up and danced
and danced and danced
into the late evening.
They then took a stroll
into the garden in the moonlight,
walking arm in arm.
They stopped briefly,
where he stole a kiss.
As he awoke the next morning,
he could not remember much
of the night before
only that he had met his princess
and had a wonderful time.
“I am your clothes for today.”
He looked around as the clothes
suddenly threw themselves at him
and suddenly he was dressed.
“I see you are ready M’ Lord.”
“Ready for what? ”
“Your wedding M’ Lord.”
He followed the tall man
down the stairs
and out into the courtyard
where a carriage pulled by six white horses
stood waited for him.
He stopped and looked around
apart from the crowds of people
white doves danced
pirouettes in the sky.
They looked golden
as the sun painted them
with its warming rays.
Flags and pennants of different colours
hung out from everywhere.
From the Cathedral, church bells filled the air
as the carriage moved slowly
along the cobble stone streets
lined with people either side.
He sat and waved at them
through the window of the carriage
as the procession passed.
Within a few minutes,
they arrived at the great city Cathedral.
As he stepped from the carriage,
there seemed a party atmosphere everywhere.
Entering the Cathedral
the serine voices of the choir
rose up to the rafters
as the Cathedral bells
could be heard across the hamlets.
The pews were filled
from front to back.
He stood at the alter
waiting for his bride to be.
He felt that this must be all a dream
and in a moment, he would awake
back to the harsh realities of his life.
Then the organ announced of the brides arrival.
To be concluded
18-19 April 2011
poem by David Harris
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Dance Of Death
Let me tell you a story to chill the bones
'bout a thing that I saw
One night wandering in the everglades
I'd one drink but no more
I was rambling, enjoying the bright moonlight
Gazing up at the stars
Not aware of a presence so near to me
Watching my every move
Feeling scared and I fell to my knees
As something rushed me from the trees
Took me to an unholy place
And that is where I fell from grace
Then they summoned me over to join in with them
To the dance of the dead
In to the circle of fire I followed them
In to the middle I was led
As if time had stopped still I was numb with fear
But still I wanted to go
And the blaze of the fire did no hurt upon me
As I walked onto the coals
And I felt I was in a trance
And my spirit was lifted from me
And if only someone had the chance
To witness what happened to me
And I danced and I pranced and I sang with them
All had death in their eyes
Lifeless figures they were undead all of them
They had ascended from hell
As I danced with the dead
my free spirit was laughing and howling down at me
Below my undead body just danced the circle of dead
Until the time came to reunite us both
My spirit came back down to me
I didn't know if I was alive or dead
As the others, all joined in with me
By luck then a skirmish started
And took the attention away from me
When they took their gaze from me
Was the moment that I fled
I ran like hell faster than the wind
But behind I did not glance
One thing that I did not dare
Was to look just straight ahead
When you know that your time has come around
You know you'll be prepared for it
Say your last goodbyes to everyone
Drink and say a prayer for it
When you're lying in your sleep, when you're lying in your bed
And you wake from your dreams to go dancing with the dead
When you're lying in your sleep, when you're lying in your bed
And you wake from your dreams to go dancing with the dead
To this day I guess I'll never know
Just why they let me go
But I'll never go dancing no more
'Til I dance with the dead
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Saw An Old Woman
I saw an old odd woman,
across a rough watery
street.
Odd as a ghost,
she was with an heavy load.
One on her head, another
on her left fragile hand.
I saw another load of cloth
on the ground.
The least one that fell from
her head. I guess.
She bent to lift it up,
but their was no strength.
I stared, wishing i could help.
She stretched her dying
hands towards me.
Voicelessly bade me to come.
Humble as a worm,
i went close to the
old odd woman.
She tried to communicate.
I tried to comunicate.
Like two deaf people,
we struggled to communicate.
She was saying something
with her gesture.
Yet i could not comprehend.
At last.
She spoke in words i understood.
She spoke in rare vernacular.
Surprise to hear such vernacular
from an old odd woman,
I hurrily put the load on her head.
I am going i said.
Thank you she said.
Hurrily i left.
Looked back again and again
to see if she was still there.
I feared.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Gazing Upon A Star In Memory Of Another Star
Sometimes we take moments for granted
Some days we never really appreciate the meaning of life
Somehow we never realize what it really means to spend a day with those we care about
So somewhere beyond the clouds I hope we will meet again
so that I can make it up to you for the moments we never had.
With tears flowing to tell my sorrow,
Here I am gazing upon a star in memory of another star
Clock ticked, seasons changed
Smiles came, laughter passed
Wounds would heal but scars never did
Heart still bleeding a sea of pain,
Guess the bandages can never conceal the lesion left behind
If I had one wish it's your smile on my wish list
Two words to say, I'd say them to you
But now all I can do is gaze upon a star in memory of another star
Wish I could turn back the hands of time to make the moments we never lived
But it feels like the clock stopped ticking when your heart stopped beating
I kept believing because I never wanted to start grieving
I held their hands to keep them strong and with your words I sought to console them
Couldn't shed a tear because I had to dry their tears
But here I am drowning in my tears wishing I had someone to come comfort me
But all I can do is gaze upon a star in memory of another star
With 1 hand high I'll take 6 steps back
Can't breathe no more so I'll take a 0 to the floor and cry some more
8 moves to get up, I hope it's enough to express the pain deep inside my chest
i thought 0 wounds were left but it's truly a valley of anguish and I'm scared to visit it
hands together so I'll pray to the Lord that at His feet we'll meet again
Feel like I'm at the worlds edge trying to dance the pain away
1,6,0,8,0,9 are the figures my head will never forget.
So I'll dance and move all those steps till they spell that date
When I sat all alone gazing out into the night sky with 2 eyes wet
just like I'm doing now with both eyes soaked
Gazing upon a star in memory of you.
poem by Sir T.A.E.P.S
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The Word
In the days when the God eternal
Was declining face to the new world,
By the Word they stopped the sun’s inferno,
And destroyed the towns by the Word.
And an eagle was falling at the ground,
Stars were backing to the moon in fright,
If, as made from orange flames a cloud,
Word was sailing in the heaven’s height.
Figures were involved in low action,
As the tamed, domesticated herd,
Just because all set of comprehension
From the clever figure could be learned.
The white-bearded patriarch, wish found
Good and evil by his own hands,
Deciding not to use the sacred sound,
Drew a figure by a cane in sands.
Did we not forget in troubles own:
Only Word is blessing in the world?
In the Gospel, sent to us by John,
Is the saying, that the Word is God.
We designed for it the limits, gladly –
The scant limits of the life and thoughts,
And like bees in empty hives smell badly –
Badly smell the dead forever words.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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All About Two Friends
Two true friends they were.
A kite and a sparrow living in a tree.
They chit-chatted all day long
And forgot the rest of the world.
None an nothing could separate them
There came a dark and short man once
Who smiled and smiled at the sparrow and
Said aloud, 'It can`t be, how is it that you are here now?
The sparrow turned pale and looked at his friend, the kite.
The little man was looking into a foliage now.
Two true friends they were.
The kite murmered into the ears of his friend,
'Fear not my friend, I shall take you to another tree high and tall
And save you from this dark and short brute..come with me'.
As they flew off unto a far away tree, the'brute'down still smiled.
Two true friends they were.
The kite made the pal sit on a tall branch and said,
'It`s safe here, let me go back and ask that brute who he is? '
The bigger winged beauty flew back to old tree and the'dark brute'
And he hovered around both for some time.
The dark and the short man heard the kite speak,
'Who are you to speak to my friend and why did you speak such words? '
The smiling 'brute'said, 'Oh bird, I am the god of death and as per my book
Thy friend, the sparrow should be on the top of a far off tree
And should have been eaten by a huge snake by now, and therefore alone
I spoke to your friend words'.
Shocked, the flew back to the tree high and tall,
His friend the sparrow was not there on any branch!
Down across the shrubs was moving a big python after feasting on the prey.
The kite flew off unto the skies infinite next.
He and his late friends were two true friends.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Christmas Gift
Christmas Gift Spurned
Crowed Christmas, street when I saw her I was sure it was her,
the way she walked. Thought I could sense her perfume too.
I hurried after her, touched her shoulder, said hallo, the woman
turned around, alas, I had been wrong. Said sorry, thought you
were someone else. She smiled and said, no I’m only me.
I read an invitation in her dark brown eyes, but I was hopelessly
in love with the true woman of my dreams and the lovely woman
in front of me, was not like the mythical one. I said sorry again,
flapped my wings and flew into the night sky to seek her amongst
the stars. In the cooling outer space I realized the fabled woman
of my dreams was an angel and I was only an earthling. I dived
back to earth like a Stuka dive bomber, skidded on slush. I looked
and looked, in vain, for the woman with the brown eyes, but my
Christmas gift had gone.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard Headed Woman
(words & music by claude demetruis)
Well a hard headed woman,
A soft hearted man
Been the cause of trouble
Ever since the world began.
Oh yeah, ever since the world began
A hard headed woman been
A thorn in the side of man.
Now adam told to eve,
Listen here to me,
Dont you let me catch you
Messin round that apple tree.
Oh yeah, ever since the world began
A hard headed woman been
A thorn in the side of man.
Now samson told delilah
Loud and clear,
Keep your cotton pickin fingers
Out my curly hair.
Oh yeah, ever since the world began
A hard headed woman been
A thorn in the side of man.
I heard about a king
Who was doin swell
Till he started playing
With that evil jezebel.
Oh yeah, ever since the world began
A hard headed woman been a thorn in the side of man.
I got a woman,
A head like a rock.
If she ever went away
Id cry around the clock.
Oh yeah, ever since the world began
A hard headed woman been
A thorn in the side of man.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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