On the Building of Springfield
Let not our town be large, remembering
That little Athens was the Muses' home,
That Oxford rules the heart of London still,
That Florence gave the Renaissance to Rome.
Record it for the grandson of your son —
A city is not builded in a day:
Our little town cannot complete her soul
Till countless generations pass away.
Now let each child be joined as to a church
To her perpetual hopes, each man ordained:
Let every street be made a reverent aisle
Where Music grows and Beauty is unchained.
Let Science and Machinery and Trade
Be slaves of her, and make her all in all,
Building against our blatant, restless time
An unseen, skilful, medieval wall.
Let every citizen be rich toward God.
Let Christ the beggar, teach divinity.
Let no man rule who holds his money dear.
Let this, our city, be our luxury.
We should build parks that students from afar
Would choose to starve in, rather than go home,
Fair little squares, with Phidian ornament,
Food for the spirit, milk and honeycomb.
Songs shall be sung by us in that good day,
Songs we have written, blood within the rhyme
Beating, as when Old England still was glad, —
The purple, rich Elizabethan time.
Say, is my prophecy too fair and far?
I only know, unless her faith be high,
The soul of this, our Nineveh, is doomed,
Our little Babylon will surely die.
Some city on the breast of Illinois
No wiser and no better at the start
By faith shall rise redeemed, by faith shall rise
Bearing the western glory in her heart.
The genius of the Maple, Elm and Oak,
The secret hidden in each grain of corn,
The glory that the prairie angels sing
At night when sons of Life and Love are born,
Born but to struggle, squalid and alone,
Broken and wandering in their early years.
When will they make our dusty streets their goal,
Within our attics hide their sacred tears?
When will they start our vulgar blood athrill
With living language, words that set us free?
When will they make a path of beauty clear
Between our riches and our liberty?
We must have many Lincoln-hearted men.
A city is not builded in a day.
And they must do their work, and come and go
While countless generations pass away.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Related quotes
City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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To Leave This City
This is the city to walk around in the rain
Staring at the barges in the harbor
And to hum songs through the night.
The city has countless streets
Bustling with people running around...
The waitress who brings me my tea every evening
And whom I like a lot although she's a White Russian
Is in this city.
The old pianist who turns around
To look at me
When he sneaks in pieces by Schumann and Brahms
While playing waltzes and foxtrot
Is also in this city.
The ferry boats that caryy passengers
To the village where I was born are in this city.
So are my memories,
All those I love,
And the graves of my loved ones.
This is the city where I have a job,
Where I earn my bread money.
And yet, in spite of all this,
This is the same city I'm leaving
Because of a woman
In another city.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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In My City
In my city the sky can cry all night;
In my city the streets can whine all night;
In my city people die all the time;
In my city, boi, in my city...
In my city, boi, God is forgotten;
people follow religion, their minds are rotten.
People kill for money, die 'cause of money,
banks spend our money, and find it funny.
Kids drink till they forget, they forget till they drink;
it's Apocalypse now, we're way past the brink...
it's a theatrical city, everyone's an actor,
everyone's waitin for next great disaster.
'I would kill for a phone' ain't just an expression,
it's more of a statement - kids full of agression.
kids full of the city, like the city's full of kids,
but they're workin on it - they're killin all the kids...
In my city the sky can cry all night;
In my city the streets can whine all night;
In my city people die all the time;
In my city, boi, in my city...
I'm a Silesian boy who moved to Tottenham,
I'm a Tottenham boy who'll always love London,
I'm a London boy who's Silesia-born,
and my people will be free - so go on, sound the horn!
Exile like Chopin, likewise keeps hoping,
Exile from Home, but somehow I'm coping...
I wasn't bought or sold, jus brought and told
you're gonna study here, and live here - be bold!
so I let my heart turn cold, f- it, why care?
carin never really got us anywhere...
nothing's holdin me back, so come and hold me back,
I ain't no ref, but I change the rules like Shaq.
it's time to speak of feelin, son, you're insecure,
that's why you want the finest chic, but she ain't the cure,
you want the fastest cars, you want the longest chain,
but none of that bulls- will take away the pain...
poem by Patryk Krzywon
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My Heart Is Resting, O My Lord
My heart is resting, O my God—
I will give thanks and sing;
My heart is at the secret source
Of every precious thing.
Now the frail vessel Thou hast made
No hand but Thine shall fill—
For the waters of the Earth have failed,
And I am thirsty still.
I thirst for springs of heavenly life,
And here all day they rise—
I seek the treasure of Thy love,
And close at hand it lies.
And a new song is in my mouth
To long loved music set—
Glory to Thee for all the grace
I have not tasted yet.
Glory to Thee for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known—
And the fear that sends me to Thy breast
For what is most my own.
I have a heritage of joy
That yet I must not see;
But the hand that bled to make it mine
Is keeping it for me.
There is a certainty of love
That sets my heart at rest—
A calm assurance for today
That to be poor is best—
A prayer reposing on His truth
Who hath made all things mine,
That draws my captive will to Him,
And makes it one with Thine.
I will give thanks for suffering now,
For want and toil and loss—
For the death that sin makes hard and slow,
Upon my Savior’s cross—
Thanks for the little spring of love
That gives me strength to say,
If they will leave me part in Him,
Let all things pass away.
Sometimes I long for promised bliss,
But it will not come too late—
And the songs of patient spirits rise
From the place wherein I wait;
While in the faith that makes no haste
My soul has time to see
A kneeling host of Thy redeemed,
In fellowship with me.
There is a multitude around
Responsive to my prayer;
I hear the voice of my desire
Resounding everywhere.
But the earnest of eternal joy,
In every prayer I trace;
I see the glory of the Lord:
On every chastened face.
How oft, in still communion known,
Those spirits have been sent
To share the travail of my soul,
Or show me what it meant!
And I long to do some work of love
No spoiling hand could touch,
For the poor and suffering of Thy flock
Who comfort me so much.
But the yearning thought is mingled now
With the thankful song I sing;
For Thy people know the secret source
Of every precious thing.
The heart that ministers for Thee
In Thy own work will rest;
And the subject spirit of a child
Can serve Thy children best.
Mine be the reverent, listening love,
That waits all day on Thee,
With the service of a watchful heart
Which no one else can see—
The faith that, in a hidden way
No other eye may know,
Finds all its daily work prepared,
And loves to have it so.
My heart is resting, O my God,
My heart is in Thy care—
I hear the voice of joy and health
Resounding everywhere.
“Thou art my portion,” saith my soul,
Ten thousand voices say,
And the music of their glad Amen,
Will never die away.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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Songs of Praise the Angels Sang
Songs of praise the angels sang,
Heav’n with alleluias rang,
When creation was begun,
When God spoke and it was done.
Songs of praise awoke the morn
When the Prince of Peace was born;
Songs of praise arose when He
Captive led Captivity.
Heav’n and earth must pass away!
Songs of praise shall crown that day!
God will make new heav’ns and earth;
Songs of praise shall hail their birth.
And can man alone be dumb,
Till that glorious kingdom come?
No: the church delights to raise
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise.
Saints below, with heart and voice,
Still in songs of praise rejoice,
Learning here, by faith and love,
Songs of praise to sing above.
Borne upon their latest breath,
Songs of praise shall conquer death;
Then amidst eternal joy,
Songs of praise their powers employ.
Hymns of glory, songs of praise,
Father, unto Thee we raise;
Jesus, glory unto Thee,
With the Spirit, ever be.
poem by James Montgomery
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My City Of Ruins
Theres a blood red circle
On the cold dark ground
And the rain is falling down
The church doors blown open
I can hear the organs song
But the congregations gone
My city of ruins
My city of ruins
Now the sweet veils of mercy
Drift through the evening trees
Young men on the corner
Like scattered leaves
The boarded up windows
The hustlers and thieves
While my brothers down on his knees
My city of ruins
My city of ruins
Come on rise up!
Come on rise up!
Now theres tears on the pillow
Darling where we slept
And you took my heart when you left
Without your sweet kiss
My soul is lost, my friend
Now tell me how do I begin again?
My citys in ruins
My citys in ruins
Now with these hands
I pray lord
With these hands
For the strength lord
With these hands
For the faith lord
With these hands
I pray lord
With these hands
For the strength lord
With these hands
For the faith lord
With these hands
Come on rise up!
Come on rise up!
Rise up
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spiritual City
Spiritual thought
Spiritual life
Spiritual city
Spiritual wife
Spiritual work
Spiritual war
Spiritual people
Spiritual law
Hey ho skdoodle-addle-o
Spiritual city gonna watch you grow
Hey ho skdoodle-addle-o
Spiritual city gonna watch you grow
Spiritual call
Spiritual tie
Spiritual seeker
Spiritual high
Spiritual need
Spiritual thirst
Spiritual beauty
Spiritual birth
Hey ho skdoodle-addle-o
Spiritual city gonna watch you grow
Hey ho skdoodle-addle-o
Spiritual city gonna watch you grow
Spiritual child
Spiritual man
Spiritual power
Spiritual land
Spiritual love
Spiritual rage
Spiritual vision
Spiritual age
Hey ho skdoodle-addle-o
Spiritual city gonna watch you grow
Hey ho skdoodle-addle-o
Spiritual city gonna watch you grow
Blood of the world, mother of mine
Gonna see you rise higher in time
Blood of the world, mother of mine
Gonna see you rise higher in time
Blood of the world, mother of mine
Gonna see you rise higher in time
Blood of the world, mother of mine
Open your eyes and let em shine !
Everybodys born to do a certain thing
And if youre dead jammy you find it.
And if youre good at it just keep doing it
Until youre fed up then do something else.
Youre here to make babies and look after the place.
You know ? (billy connolly)
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faith
Verily for the morality
The text of religion
And the freedom of poetry
To the one God speaks differently
Differently to the other
From the firmaments deep dug in existence
God’s rule is the final word
Whether city of God on earth
Or after death
Some beauty for the generations
The aesthetics of living
Yes I understand what faith is
I know the raptures of love too
Love without rules
No space and time
For many times I had been thinking
Faith is both and faith may
After death bring heaven
With faith I may
Live here right
I wish tonight
I have some dreams
12/6/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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The Soul of the City Receives the Gift of the Holy Spirit
A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS
Censers are swinging,
Over the town;
Censers are swinging,
Look overhead!
Censers are swinging,
Heaven comes down.
City, dead city,
Awake from the dead!
Censers, tremendous,
Gleam overhead.
Wind-harps are ringing,
Wind-harps unseen—
Calling and calling:—
"Wake from the dead.
Rise, little city,
Shine like a queen."
Soldiers of Christ
For battle grow keen.
Heaven-sent winds
Haunt alley and lane.
Singing of life
In town-meadows green
After the toil
And battle and pain.
Incense is pouring
Like the spring rain
Down on the mob
That moil through the street.
Blessed are they
Who behold it and gain
Power made more mighty
Thro' every defeat.
Builders, toil on.
Make all complete.
Make Springfield wonderful.
Make her renown
Worthy this day,
Till, at God's feet,
Tranced, saved forever,
Waits the white town.
Censers are swinging
Over the town,
Censers gigantic!
Look overhead!
Hear the winds singing:—
"Heaven comes down.
City, dead city,
Awake from the dead."
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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And the Bairns Will Come
So you’ve seen at last what we have seen so long through scalding tears:
You have found what we—the People—we have known for twenty years:
And Australia’s hymn is swelling till the furthest fence-wires hum—
Save your country, Legislators—and the bairns will come.
You would put the blame upon us—we are women, we are men;
And our fathers and our mothers gave the country nine and ten.
They had honest work and wages, and the ways to win a home—
Give us half the chances they had—and the bairns will come.
Try the ranks of wealth and fashion, ask the rich and well-to-do,
With their nurseries and their nurses and their children one and two,
Will they help us bear the burden?—but their purse-proud lips are dumb.
Let us earn a decent living—and the bairns will come.
Young men, helpless in the city’s wheel of greed that never stops,
Tramp the streets for work while sweethearts slave in factories and shops.
Shall they marry and bear children to their parents’ martyrdom?
Make the city what it should be—and the bairns will come.
Shall we give you sons and daughters to a life of never-rest,
Sacrificing all for nothing in the desert of the West,
To be driven to the city’s squalid suburb and the slum?
Make the city what it should be—and the bairns will come.
Don’t you hear Australia calling for her children unconceived?
Don’t you hear them calling to her while her heart is very grieved?
Give the best land to the farmers, make the barren West a home,
Save the rainfall, lock the rivers—and the bairns will come.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Alma Mater
A haunted town thou art to me.
-- Andrew Lang
To-day in Florence all the air
Is soft with spring, with sunlight fair;
In the tall street gay folks are met;
Duomo and Tower gleam overhead,
Like jewels in the city set,
Fair-hued and many-faceted.
Against the old grey stones are piled
February violets, pale and sweet,
Whose scent of earth in woodland wild
Is wafted up and down the street.
The city's heart is glad ; my own
Sits lightly on its bosom's throne.
* * * * * * *
Why is it that I see to-day,
Imaged as clear as in a dream,
A little city far away,
A churlish sky, a sluggish stream,
Tall clust'ring trees and gardens fair,
Dark birds that circle in the air,
Grey towers and fanes ; on either hand,
Stretches of wind-swept meadow-land?
* * * * * * *
Oh, who can sound the human breast?
And this strange truth must be confessed;
That city do I love the best
Wherein my heart was heaviest!
Please Don't Pass Me By
I was walking in new york city and i brushed up against the man in front of me. i felt a cardboard placard on his back. and when we passed a streetlight, i could read it, it said "please do
Ass me by - i am blind, but you can see -i've been blinded totally - please don't pass me by." i was walking along 7th avenue, when i came to 14th street i saw on the corner curious mutilat
Of the human form; it was a school for handicapped people. and there were cripples, and people in wheelchairs and crutches and it was snowing, and i got this sense that the whole city was singin
S:
Oh please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh please don't pass me by.
And you know as i was walking i thought it was them who were singing it, i thought it was they who were singing it, i thought it was the other who was singing it, i thought it was someone else.
S i moved along i knew it was me, and that i was singing it to myself. it went:
Please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Well, i've been blinded totally,
Oh please don't pass me by.
Oh please don't pass me by.
Now i know that you're sitting there deep in your velvet seats and you're thinking "uh, he's up there saying something that he thinks about, but i'll never have to sing that song." but
Omise you friends, that you're going to be singing this song: it may not be tonight, it may not be tomorrow, but one day you'll be on your knees and i want you to know the words when the time co
Because you're going to have to sing it to yourself, or to another, or to your brother. you're going to have to learn to sing this song, it goes:
Please don't pass me by,
Ah you don't have to sing this .. not for you.
Please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh please don't pass me by.
Well i sing this for the jews and the gypsies and the smoke that they made. and i sing this for the children of england, their faces so grave. and i sing this for a saviour with no one to save.
Won't you be naked for me? hey, won't you be naked for me? it goes:
Please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh now, please don't pass me by.
Now there's nothing that i tell you that will help you connect the blood tortured night with the day that comes next. but i want it to hurt you, i want it to end. oh, won't you be naked for me?
W:
Please don't pass me by,
Oh please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh now, please don't pass me by.
Well i sing this song for you blonde beasts, i sing this song for you venuses upon your shells on the foam of the sea. and i sing this for the freaks and the cripples, and the hunchback, and the
Ed, and the burning, and the maimed, and the broken, and the torn, and all of those that you talk about at the coffee tables, at the meetings, and the demonstrations, on the streets, in your mus
N my songs. i mean the real ones that are burning, i mean the real ones that are burning
I say, please don't pass me by,
Oh now, please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, but you can see,
Ah now, i've been blinded totally,
Oh no, please don't pass me by.
I know that you still think that its me. i know that you think that there's somebody else. i know that these words aren't yours. but i tell you friends that one day
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down on your knees,
You're going to get down ...
Oh, please don't pass me by,
Oh, please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, yeah but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh, please don't pass me by.
Well you know i have my songs and i have my poems. i have my book and i have the army, and sometimes i have your applause. i make some money, but you know what my friends, i'm still out there on
Corner. i'm with the freaks, i'm with the hunted, i'm with the maimed, yes i'm with the torn, i'm with the down, i'm with the poor. come on now ...
Ah, please don't pass me by,
Well i've got to go now friends,
But, please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, yeah but you can see,
Oh, i've been blinded, i've been blinded totally,
Oh now, please don't pass me by.
Now i want to take away my dignity, yes take my dignity. my friends, take my dignity, take my form, take my style, take my honour, take my courage, take my time, take my time, .. time .. 'cause
Now i'm with you singing this song. and i wish you would, i wish you would, i wish you would go home with someone else. wish you'd go home with someone else. i wish you'd go home with someone el
On't be the person that you came with. oh, don't be the person that you came with, oh don't be the person that you came with. ah, i'm not going to be. i can't stand him. i can't stand who i am.
S why i've got to get down on my knees. because i can't make it by myself. i'm not by myself anymore because the man i was before he was a tyrant, he was a slave, he was in chains, he was broken
Then he sang:
Oh, please don't pass me by,
Oh, please don't pass me by,
For i am blind, yes i am blind, oh but you can see,
Yes, i've been blinded totally,
Oh, please don't pass me by.
Well i hope i see you out there on the corner. yeah i hope as i go by that i hear you whisper with the breeze. because i'm going to leave you now, i'm going to find me someone new. find someone
And please don't pass me by.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New York City Rhythm
Words by Marty Panzer
Music by Barry Manilow
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When my heart is torn apart
by love I wish I had,
Well, I spend my nights in the city's lights
and things don't seem so bad.
Ya know the movement seems to soothe me,
and the temp takes control,
and I lose my blues
when the Ne w York City rhythm fill my soul;
it's the New York City rhythm runnin' thru' my life,
the pounding beat of the city streets
that keeps mydreams alive.
I'm lost, I'm found, I'm up, I'm down,
but somehow I survive.
It's got to be the New Y ork City rhythm in my life,
It's got to be the New York City rhythm in my life,
in my life.
When I'm out for love or sin,
Oh, it's good to be in town,
In the funky dives on the old west sid
there's always somethin' goin' down.
Oh yes , I live my life with strangers,
and the danger's always there,
but when I hit Broadway and it's time to play,
ya know that I don't care;
It's the New York City rhythm runnin' thru my life,
the poundin' beat of the city streets
that kee ps my dreams alive.
I'm lost, I'm found, I'm up, I'm down, ,
but somehow I survive.
It's got to be the New York City rhythm in my life,
in my life.
City rhythm, oo city rhythm.
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High In The City
I got the time, I got my feet
Lets go hit the street
High in the city
High in the city
I got my mace and you got your knife
You gotta protect your own life
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive here in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
Lets not walk down sutton place
You know everybody there got an akitas
High in the city
High in the city
Dont wanna talk politics today
I feel too good let me have my way
High in the city
High in the city
Watch out for that guy on your right
Seen him on the news last saturday night
He was high in the city
High in the city
Hey, look theyre setting fire to that jeep
Theres not much you can keep
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
So many people feeling low
And theres only one way to go to
Get high in the city
High in the city
Lets grap a pie, lets hit the park
Ill kiss and hug you till it gets dark
Here in the city
Getting high in the city
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The City
As a child on the farm
I was warned of the wiles of the city
Of that demon disguise
As the dirt in the skies of the city
Well they say the proximity warps their minds
Until they're shooting one another just pass the time
And we live it appears
Both in spite and in fear of the city
I was constantly told
How our lives were controlled by the city
How they keep us in debt
With the trends that they set it's a pity
Now the beautiful people in the magazines
Got the normal ones living beyond their means
And the things that they said
Made me go in my head to the city
When I finally came
There's some things still the same in the city
You still lie under the thumb
Of the rich and the young and the pretty
Well they weren't much different than we might act
If there was that many others that closely packed
It's an ancient idea
But it struck me so clear in the city
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Essence of Edinburgh
Evening time, in my town, is often deadly quiet,
But, up here in Edinburgh, there's a sensual riot!
From a night club doorway, purple-pink light spills out;
Along the streets, crowds of tourists still amble about.
There is an endless stream of cars and buses;
In my town, the pace is slow, but here, it rushes.
In the city, there are exciting sights and sounds;
It is so much livelier than my own little town.
In my town, after five, most people have gone home,
But, around the streets of Edinburgh, folk still roam.
Emergency vehicles rush past with klaxons blazing;
The atmosphere here, in the city, is just so amazing.
In my town, it is often almost dead after five,
But the city of Edinburgh is still very much alive.
Of action, in my own town, there's a really big lack;
I don't want to leave here: I don't want to go back.
Edinburgh, at Festival time, is always such a blast;
Against my own town, it paints a very sharp contrast.
Street entertainers attract crowds along the Royal Mile;
Attracting many tourists, they're sure to raise a smile.
At the Military Tattoo, I saw many massed bands;
I saw performers who hailed from foreign lands.
For me, that really was such a memorable night;
It filled all my senses with such excited delight.
I really wish that I could stay here forever and ever;
Inside, my soul feels light, and it floats like a feather.
I don't want to go back home: I don't want to leave.
For this amazing city, my heart will soon grieve.
Here, in Edinburgh, I have had such a great time;
For this wonderful city, I know my heart will pine.
Come tomorrow morning, when I board my train,
The essence of Edinburgh, in my heart, will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace Frog
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets its up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying red rivers of weepin
She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood streams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, its up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of chicago
Blood on the rise, its following me
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Detroit City
Me and Iggy were giggin' with Ziggy and kickin' with the MC5
Ted and Seger were burnin' with fever
And let the Silver Bullets fly
The Kid was in his crib, Shady wore a bib
And the Posse wasn't even alive
Shock rock choppin' block, songs to make your heart stop
Shovin' it in to overdrive
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
There's a riot raging downtown
Tryin' to burn the place down
Skies glowin' red and gray
But the Riff kept a rockin'
The Creem kept a talkin'
And the streets still smokin' today
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean streets
Detroit City
Six mile seven mile eight mile nine mile ten mile eleven mile
Detroit City
Louder
Faster
Louder
Detroit City
Well, I was born there
Gonna die there
We don't belong here
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
Hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
Well, I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Hymn
Sing, Christmas bells!
Say to the earth this is the morn
Whereon our Saviour-King is born;
Sing to all men,-the bond, the free,
The rich, the poor, the high, the low,
The little child that sports in glee,
The aged folk that tottering go,-
Proclaim the morn
That Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!
Sing, angel host!
Sing of the star that God has placed
Above the manger in the east;
Sing of the glories of the night,
The virgin's sweet humility,
The Babe with kingly robes bedight,
Sing to all men where'er they be
This Christmas morn;
For Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!
Sing, sons of earth!
O ransomed seed of Adam, sing!
God liveth, and we have a king!
The curse is gone, the bond are free,-
By Bethlehem's star that brightly beamed,
By all the heavenly signs that be,
We know that Israel is redeemed;
That on this morn
The Christ is born
That saveth you and saveth me!
Sing, O my heart!
Sing thou in rapture this dear morn
Whereon the blessed Prince is born!
And as thy songs shall be of love,
So let my deeds be charity,-
By the dear Lord that reigns above,
By Him that died upon the tree,
By this fair morn
Whereon is born
The Christ that saveth all and me!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Detroit City (Lyrics)
Me and Iggy were giggin' with Ziggy and kickin' with the MC5
Ted and Seger were burnin' with fever
and let the Silver bullets fly
The Kid was in his crib, shady wore a bib
and the posse wasn`t even alive
Shock rock choppin' block, songs to make your heart stop
Shovie it in ta overdrive
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
There`s a riot raging downtown
Tryin' to burn the place down
Skies glowin; red and grey
But the Riff kept a Rockin'
The Creem kept a-talkin'
And the streets still smokin' today
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean streets
Detroit City
Six mile seven mile eight mile nine mile
ten mile eleven mile Detroit city
Louder
Faster
Louder
Detroit City
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
We don`t belong here
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
Hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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