Saturday Night Local
They congregate at the local pub
Each and every Saturday night
Break in routine from stressful week
Creatures of habit seeking respite
Logs are burning in the grate
Flickering orange flames in dance
Firelight reflecting on the hearth
Warm and cozy creating ambience
Local men propping up the bar
Discussing football escaping wives
Drowning sorrows from mundane life
Another pint through bleary eyes
Barmaids with their cheerful smiles
Filling up the empty glass
Engaging conversation with the punters
Who freely spend their brass
Tucked in corners lost in love
Couples share a fleeting glance
Sneak a kiss and passion ignites
Anticipating an evening of romance
Dreaded bell begins to ring
Landlord calling last orders please
Social gathering coming to an end
Glasses drained it's time to leave
poem by Lynne Howard
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Related quotes
One Day If I Could Spend The Night
One day, perhaps if I could spend the night,
I would stack your hearth with firewood,
and we could sit together, on your couch.
You, your feet tucked under you
and your head against my chest,
me, holding you close to me,
and breathing that faint and lovely
fragrance of your hair.
And we could dine on pizza and red wine,
in the softly glowing firelight,
one day, perhaps, if I could spend the night.
One day, perhaps if I could spend the night,
there would be nothing hurried,
no urgency in either life,
and we could have another glass of wine
and talk, earnestly, of matters serious,
if we felt that way inclined.
Or, we could have that other glass of wine
and laugh at matters impolite,
one day, perhaps, if I could spend the night.
One day, perhaps if I could spend the night,
when we were ready, we would go to bed
and kiss and make unhurried love.
Or, equally unhurried, we would not.
And we would listen to the wind and rain
and kiss and make unhurried love again.
Or, equally unhurried, we would not.
And we would sleep, egg and spoon together,
with each of us at peace.
And everything,
in both our worlds,
would be just right,
one day,
perhaps,
if I could spend the night.
poem by Red O'Mara
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The widows tale
The widows tale
~
He sits down at the local bar
Same old table by the window
Overlooking the river passing by
A pint of the usual half drunk
Sat squarely on the beer mat
He looks around observing the room
Nodding towards familiar faces
Never sure of their names
The little routine he’s known
Reminiscent of so many nights past
There’s a look in his eye telling
Something’s not quite right
A missing companion, loyal friend
Is gone now lost, taken away
The one who shared the laughter
When the conversation filled itself
Who danced to the music with a smile
Now the music just plays out
Memories tainted with each new night
The routine of an old habit
Keeping hold so as not to let go
And slowly growing old
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Suppose Football Does Serve A Purpose
Suppose football does serve a purpose some males do need other interests in their lives
Than working or drinking of alcohol or arguing with or making love to their girl friends or wives
On saturday they go to the football to cheer on their team win or lose
'Tis better for them than going to the local and wasting their money on the booze
At least watching football they won't be losing brain cells as they do when they are on the grog
And next day feeling nauseated and hung over and as sick as a very sick dog
Their partners and wives happy to see them going to the football for to support their football club
They feel that for them it is far better than guzzling down grog at the pub
In football there can be disappointments when your team does not win the game
But for every winner there is a loser and to lose should never be a shame
There's more to life than grog and work and women there is that marvellous game known as football
To you and many others 'tis a passion and your team to you is the greatest team of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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When the Night Falls Upon the Alone
When relationships keep failing, it really makes you wonder, am I meant to spend life alone
When the sun falls upon the city
Here you are alone
You think of families
Gathering in their homes
Moms putting a meal on the table
Making sure homework is done
Dads doing catch up work
He had to bring home
Here you are
Watching t.v.
Wondering is there someone
Out there for you
As your sitting home alone
A boyfriend here, a boyfriend there
But nothing really stable, nothing on solid ground
Wondering why is it, there is not anyone here
Sharing what couples share
Wondering who else is sitting
In this world alone
No one to bother you
Doing what you wanna do
No one to interrupt while the t.v. is on
Being able to walk out the door
No one to report to
Where have you been, when are you going to be back
Asking in worry what took you so long
No one to make plans with
The week days so long
Waiting for the weekend
To go out to social places
Watching couples kiss, cuddle
And dance, not going home alone
Someone catching you sitting there
Stuttering over invading your space
Asking, what are you doing here alone
Shrugging your shoulders
I just am
Asking if they could have the empty chair
Can I buy you a drink
Conversation covers topics
Thoughts of taking you home
Till you make it clear
One night stands is not what you do
The night ending with a favorite song
Can I call you sometime
When it dawns on him
Your still
walking out the door
Going home alone
Some day the phone may ring
Would you like to go out to dinner
Would you like to go out dancing
Sometimes it so tiring to be alone
Yea, I know what you mean
And the question is asked
Why are you alone
Your answer is plain
It may even match theirs
Just haven’t found that one
That wants to be focused on a relationship
to make plans that includes two
to wonder where I am when I am late
the moment when thoughts to give
who rings who to see how things are going
to only be with me
yea, I know what you mean
they tell of the story of why
they’re alone
you think this might be it
lets take it slow
see where it may lead us
yet in the mean time
I think I’ll watch the evenings
Come and go
Spending time alone
Till they make up there mind
They don’t want you
Or them to spend their life
Alone
poem by C. Lea Harris
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Seeger's Theme
by David Gates
Monday had a sad child,
Always feeling low down.
Tuesday had a dream child,
She's always on the go
So I'm in love with Saturday's child.
Every time you take her out at night
(She drives me wild)
You want to kiss and hold her way up tight,
(Gonna spend my time)
You can tell the future's looking bright.
(Making sure that Saturday's child is mine)
If you love a Wednesday,
You live your life apart now.
And if you love a Thursday,
She's gonna break your heart
So I'm in love with Saturday's child.
Every time you hold her close you'll see
(She drives me wild)
You can feel the furor that's gonna be,
(Gonna spend my time)
Now the future has a guarantee.
(Making sure that Saturday's child is mine)
Seven days of the week made to choose from,
But only one is right for me.
I know that Saturday's got what it takes, babe,
I can tell by the way she looks at me.
SOLO
Ohh...
Friday likes a good life,
She'll take you for a ride, now.
And Sunday makes a good wife,
She wants to be your bride
So I'm in love with Saturday's child.
Every time you take her out at night
(She drives me wild)
You want to kiss and hold her way up tight
(Gonna spend my time)
You can tell the future's looking bright.
(Making sure that Saturday's child is mine)
(Saturday's child)
Every time you take her out at night
(She drives me wild)
You want to kiss and hold her way up tight
(Gonna spend my time)
You can tell the future's looking bright.
(Making sure that Saturday's child is mine)
(Saturday's child)
(fade out)
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is The Football Season
This is the football Season it is that time of year
When men in the pub talk football as they enjoy their beer
And look forward to September when one club will fly the winner's flag
The team that wins the Premiership gives their fans the right to brag.
Their wives nicknamed the footy widows their husbands at the football club
Or after work talking football with their mates down at the local pub
They take football so seriously 'tis their passion in life
The footy fan loves his football club as much as his children or his wife.
And if their team lose at the weekend they feel and look so sad
What's known as football addiction they seem to have it bad
They feel sad for their football team and the chance of four premiership points gone
But they cheer up and look forward to next weekend's game as the working week wears on.
This is the football Season football has gone to their head
And their football scarves and beanies they even wear to bed
About their team they feel so passionate as if to them it did belong
And 'tis with delight and pride in victory that they sing the club song.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On More Saturday Night
One More Saturday Night
-----------------------
I went down to the mountain, I was drinkin' some wine,
looked up in the heavens Lord I saw a mighty sign,
written in fire across the heavens, plain as black and white;
Get prepared, there's gonna be a party tonight.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Everybody's dancin' down the local armory
with a basement full of dynamite and light artillery.
The temperature keeps risin', everybody gittin' high;
come the rockin' stroke of midnite, the place is gonna fly.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Turn on channel six, the President comes on the news,
says "I get no satisfaction, that's why I sing the blues."
These wives, they don't get crazy, Lord, they know just what to do,
crank up that old Victrola, put on them rockin' shoes.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
When God way up in Heaven, for whatever it was worth,
thought He'd have a big old party, thought He'd call it planet Earth.
Don't worry about tomorrow, Lord, you'll know it when it comes,
when the rock and roll music meets the risin' shinin' sun.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Everybody gettin' right,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night.
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Feels The Time Is Ripe
Where many do live for local renown
The ageing fringe dweller in the old country town
Has never played football with the local club
And always drinks on his own when he is in the pub.
Since he does not talk about the local club's latest loss or win
He remains an outsider and does not fit in
Though he has lived here for ten years as an outsider he remain
The status of a local he has yet to attain.
He feels a decade of his life enough to have spent here
He will move to the bigger town early next year
This not a town for one such as he an artist and a talented man
More suited to a footballer or a football fan.
In the old country town he does not have a friend
And his stay in the place is coming to an end
In his early to mid fifties his best days long gone
And he feels the time is ripe for him to move on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Saturday Night
(annie roboff/tim nichols)
Every week it comes round
With a feel like new years eve
Get dressed, de-stressed, tonight I couldnt care less
Take a look at me
So I put myself together
Paint my lips and lashes on
cause I know theres someone out there
Wantin me to come along
Its the night of the week when my dreams hit the street
With boots and blue jeans on
Take a shot at romance, do I stand a chance
Will destiny be good to me
Its the thrill of the kiss that on
Monday Ill miss
When I look back and say
Well, oh my lord you should have seen me saturday
Saturday, oh saturday night
Marys got a mustang
We all pile in
Downtown, top down, rockin while we ride around
Let the night begin
Im just searchin for a dreamer
Wholl steal my heart away
Strong and shy with I dare you eyes
And a smile who lights the way
Its the night of the week when my dreams hit the street
With boots and blue jeans on
Take a shot at romance, do I stand a chance
Will destiny be good to me
Its the thrill of the kiss that on
Monday Ill miss
When I look back and say
Well, oh my lord you should have seen me saturday
Saturday, oh saturday night
Five days out of seven slavin
I need one thats just for me
Its the thrill of the kiss that on
Monday Ill miss
When I look back and say
Well oh my lord you should have seen my saturday
Oh saturday, saturday, saturday,
Oh saturday night
song performed by by Jo Dee Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just An Ordinary Fellow
His life revolves around work his mates and football
But his wife and children he seldom does talk of at all
Each evening after work he calls to the pub
Or else to the bar-room of the Football Club.
In his early to mid thirties he is well liked in the town
To have kicked five goals in the local Grand Final is his one claim to renown
And though his team did not win the flag he earned his local fame
With a best on ground display on a beaten side he made for himself a name.
His wife takes care of the children a boy of four and a girl of three
She is not well known in the town few as down to earth as she
So different from her husband she's never seen at the pub
And she is not a member of any local club.
He is a well liked character and in the town well known
And the local people say of him he is one of our own
Not a bad husband and father though better than him not hard to find
Just an ordinary fellow in his own way he is kind.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Don't Let This Moment End
Come with me my love, let's run away,
Give me your hand to hold and have trust in me,
I'm gonna take you to a place of dreams,
Where our love is safe and lives in harmony.
I would tame the time and make it stop,
I would treasure each moment with you deep in my heart,
A moment with you is so priceless, unique,
I won't lose those precious moments to keep.
We'll spend together our moments of love,
Adventuring in a world we never knew before,
Wild nights are coming to set us free,
I'll see in your eyes your passion burning for me.
My passions are kept in my heart, waiting for you to explore,
In lust, love and romance, but only you can set them free,
Be with me and share the night, my heart is calling out your passion,
I want to hold your love forever, don't let this moment end.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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In Trance
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
I wake up in the morning
And the sun begins to shine
The day did sneak up on the night
I see your face and I see myself
And I get a little taste of life
I try to stand it for a while
But Im in a trance
Hey baby tell me cant you hear me calling
Im in a trance
I take too much in the saturday night
Hey... hey
Hey baby tell me cant you hear me calling
Im in a trance
I wanna try to stop this life
I feel so sad Im feeling down
On the radio the music plays
Im in love with her and I feel fine
I close my eyes
I think today is getting better with a sip of wine
And I can stand it for a while
When Im in a trance
Hey baby tell me cant you hear me calling
Im in a trance
I take too much in the saturday night
Hey... hey
Hey baby tell me cant you hear me calling
Im in a trance
I wanna try to stop this life
Im in a trance
Hey baby tell me cant you hear me caling
Im in a trance
I take too much in the saturday night
Hey...hey
Hey baby tell me cant you hear me calling
Im in a trance
I wanna try to stop this life
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All She Wants To Do Is Dance
Theyre pickin up the prisoners and puttin
em in the pen
And all she wants to do is dance, dance
Rebels been rebels since I dont know when
And all she wants to do is dance
Molotov cocktail-the local drink
And all she wants to do is dance, dance
They mix em up right in the kitchen sink
And all she wants to do is dance
Crazy people walkin round
With blood in their eyes
And all she wants to do is dance, dance
Wild-eyed pistol wavers
Who aint afraid to die
And all she wants to do is-
And all she wants to do is dance
And make romance
She cant feel the heat comin off the street
She wants to party
She wants to get down
And all she wants to do is-
And all she wants to do is dance
Well, the government bugged the mens
Room in the local disco lounge
And all she wants to do is dance, dance
To keep the boys from sellin
All the weapons they could scrounge
And all she wants to do is dance
But that dont keep the boys
From makin a buck or two
And all she wants to do is dance, dance
They still can sell the army
All the drugs that they can do
And all she wants to do is-
And all she wants to do is dance
And make romance
Well, we barely made the airport
For the last plane out
As we taxied down the runway
I could hear the people shout
They said, dont come back here yankee!
But if I ever do-
Ill bring more money
cause all she wants to do is dance
And make romance
Never mind the hear comin off the street
She wants to party
She wants to get down
All she wants to do is-
All she wants to do is dance
All she wants to do is dance
And make romance
All she wants to do is dance
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Town Poets
They have the ticket draw for the football club
But never a poets hour at the local pub
'Twould seem that cricket and football are the in thing
And horse racing at the back end of the Spring
But of course the Town poets have their own poetry night
On saturday evenings at the bowling club rooms their poems they recite
The local lovers of poetry their night out enjoy
To watch local favourite poets such as Rina, Kate and Roy
Reciting their poetry and strutting their stuff
It cannot be said of them not quite good enough
Quite talented poets the tops of the Town
Young poets in their thirties who dream of renown
And recite their poems in the rooms of the bowling club
Whilst it's a different scene at the Town's biggest pub.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Little Country Town
The creek down to a trickle and the paddocks looking brown
And not much ever seems to happen in the Little Country Town
lived in by the descendants of the early settlers who settled here a century ago
Of the bigger World out there few of them wish to know.
At night the recent happenings discussed in the local pub
News of the local cricketers or the local football club
Where the personal lives of those they know to them never taboo
What is happenning in the town of late who is having sex with who?
The visual or the literary arts never discussed at all
It has to be a local scandal that or bowls cricket or football
In little country towns one might say that creative types are rare
They are looked on with suspicion the culturally aware.
The creek down to a trickle and bone dry every drain
And in the local church on sunday the Reverend prays for rain
In the Main Street all is so quiet and few cars pass up and down
And life goes on as usual in the Little Country Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Down the Pub on a Saturday Night
Saturday night in the pub
lots of things going on
lads playing pool
couple of older gents
playing dominoes.
A gang of drunken girls
walk in all wearing Pink
they're out on a hen night
they shout a lot then there off.
Football's on the television
so the pubs fairly full tonight
and as there's two big screens
you watch one then the other.
The smokers stand outside
puffing away at their fags
but as it's raining hard
their soon back inside.
Two blokes start arguing
punches are thrown
it gets broken up
the landlord chucks them out.
Then a woman falls of her stool
and she knocks herself out
but as she lies there for ages
people carry on drinking.
A young bloke throws up
the barmaid hands him a mop
when he finishes cleaning it up
he orders himself another pint.
Saturday night in the pub
lots of things going on
it's a British institution
and a way of life.
poem by Kevin Halls
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With Some Passion That Touches Me
Try my love song from the heart inside
Let it touch here through its going
Feel the gathering of its truest glide
As it is willingly and knowing
With some passion that touches me
With some passion that touches me
Let the beauty from within come right here
Through the deep of the dark night
With its flowing and its limits to share
Till all its touches become alright
In the end of its limitless deep
Of the hours from down dark under
With its dances and beats to keep
As we drift though the waves asunder
With some passion that touches freely
With some passion that touches freely
I might be in heart feeling lonely
Though I had my luck in its try
You are touching my soul here and only
Filling moments with each their try
With some passion that touches me
With some passion that touches me
Try my love song from the heart inside
Let it touch here through its going
Feel the gathering of its truest glide
As it is willingly and knowing
With some passion that touches me
With some passion that touches me
With some passion that touches me
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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One evening
One evening
~
Caught in the candles lights
Flickering shadows on the wall
Softly the music plays, serenading
Whilst a conversation flows
Like the finest of wine poured
Into the glasses which rolled in hand
Flavour the scent of the evening
The warmest of company, love
Grows in the look of an eye
The curl of every smile
Caught in the candles light
A romance blossoming
Little else is as beautiful
Or motions to the heart
The warming amber glow
Captures in perfect silhouette
The first kiss of the evening
A relationship beginning
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Rubber Bullets/sngl/bonus
10cc - rubber bullets
---------------------
I went to a party at the local county jail
All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail
But the guys were indiscreet
They were brawling in the street
At the local dance at the local county jail
Well the band were playing
And the booze began to flow
But the sound came over on the police car radio
Down at precinct 49
Having a tear-gas of a time
Sergeant baker got a call from the governor of the county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
I love to hear those convicts squeal
It's a shame these slugs ain't real
But we can't have dancin' at the local county jail
Sergeant baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail
There's a rumor goin' round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow
At the local hop at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Sergeant baker started talkin'
With a bullhorn in his hand
He was cool, he was clear
He was always in command
He said "blood will flow;
Here padre
Padre you talk to your boys..."
"trust in me -
God will come to set you free"
Well we don't understand
Why you called in the national guard
When uncle sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard
We all got balls and brains
But some's got balls and chains
At the local dance at the local county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance at the local county jail
At the local dance at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rubber Bullets
I went to a party at the local county jail
All the cons were dancing and the band began to wail
But the guys were indiscreet
They were brawling in the street
At the local dance at the local county jail
Well the band were playing
And the booze began to flow
But the sound came over on the police car radio
Down at precinct 49
Having a tear-gas of a time
Sergeant baker got a call from the governor of the county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
I love to hear those convicts squeal
Its a shame these slugs aint real
But we cant have dancin at the local county jail
Sergeant baker and his men made a bee-line for the jail
And for miles around
You could hear the sirens wail
Theres a rumor goin round death row
That a fuse is gonna blow
At the local hop at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Sergeant baker started talkin
With a bullhorn in his hand
He was cool, he was clear
He was always in command
He said blood will flow;
Here padre
Padre you talk to your boys...
Trust in me -
God will come to set you free
Well we dont understand
Why you called in the national guard
When uncle sam is the one
Who belongs in the exercise yard
We all got balls and brains
But somes got balls and chains
At the local dance at the local county jail
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Load up, load up, load up with rubber bullets
Is it really such a crime
For a guy to spend his time
At the local dance at the local county jail
At the local dance at the local county jail
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do about it, whatcha gonna do
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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