Tower of London
Kings and Queens beheaded here
Beefeaters patrol.
quote by by Ernestine Northover
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Tower Of London
Let me take you to trafalgar square
Let me take you there
Every streets a fashion catwalk
Everyones debonair
Let me take you to piccadilly
Guess it leads somewhere
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Yours and mine - tower of london!
Hip london! hip london!
Let me take you to st.jamess square
Let me groove you there
Diplomats get target practice
In the open air
Psychobillies scream blue murder
Then they hit mayfair
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Precious time - tower of london!
Tower up! Ill meet you there
Ill be there - tower of london
New york! - dont make me laugh
Ive seen photographs - tower of london...
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Kingdom
Had the kings and queens of this kingdom bled?
The wild and eerie winter is upon us,
We can not witness a criminal who has been dead.
Your solution to royalty is absolutely ahead,
The summer believed me, it was absoluteness,
Had the kings and queens of this kingdom bled?
We say and did formulae of chemistry in bed,
The same post of evil as absentmindedness,
We can not witness a criminal who has been dead.
Our results bespeak in front of the led,
The exact opposite of leading is malice,
Had the kings and queens of this kingdom bled?
When does the king seek kindness from the misled?
Your happiness is special with malpractice.
We can not witness a criminal who has been dead.
The understanding I sought was hunger to be read,
A shining example of pride is in books of passiveness.
We can not witness a criminal who has been dead.
Had the kings and queens of this kingdom bled?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Riverboat
Riverboat,
Revolution!
Light,
Darkness,
Stuff,
Selection,
Seed,
Weed,
Need,
Deed,
Heed!
In this world,
Back to life,
Queens,
Kings,
Juggling,
Watching,
Kings and Queens! !
The theory,
The story,
The history,
The glory!
With the pressure;
But, 'sorry' is a sorry word.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Farmer
Clad in shabby dress, stinks sweat,
A churlish who works day and night
In the field,
To speed up the pace of progress,
To continue the game of politics,
The destiny of kingdoms
Lies on his rough palms,
By dint of his being,
The kings are kings and
The queens are queens,
He is the father of civilization.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Kings And Queens
We live in a world with Kings and Queens –
who blind your eyes and steal your dreams,
for you hope to have a life’s that grand, but reality is –
you are tied to this land, this land controlled by a “Hierarchy” the ones
in power,
the ones who say we are “free” –society?
Paying taxes so the Kings and Queens can have a bigger treasury!
Copyright 2006 Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Rat Patrol
Moths beat on the windowpane
Telling me Im not the same
Sounds of nothing, sounds of fear
Speak to me when no ones near
Im on rat patrol
Im on rat patrol
Well, those disappear inside
Floorboards creak and footsteps heard
Headlights turn into the drive
Then disappear into the night
Im on rat patrol
Im on rat patrol
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rulers
Who are these Kings, Queens and Rulers
that we see?
And what makes them any better than you or me?
Did our God create them to rule over men
and if He did then why, how or when?
No, I say this God I don't perceive.
We have created them. This I believe.
We acquiesed quietly, giving our consent.
My God did not make us to be subservient.
I believe way back in our history's past
something evil occured to make this last.
And so it continues right up to today
and the masses accept it as if it's fair play.
And who are these blue-bloods that conquer and rule?
These are not leaders They are too cruel.
These are the Kings, Queens and Rulers that we see.
And there's not a one of them
made like you or me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Down To London
Stop - whats that sound
Its the death rattle of this rusty old town
Stop - listen again
Its the sound of laughter all along the thames
Hey - whats my line
Do I have to stay here til the end of time
Im - good lookin and bright
I wanna see life after ten at night
So if they ask you where I am
Im in the back of a transit van
In a squat on the earls court road
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
Hey - whats your name
The boys back home all seem to look the same
You - should stick with me
And one of us will make it, just you see
Stop - whats that sound
Seems like the sixties are still swingin around
Hey - can you hear me back there
Or is there anybody left to care
So if you ask me where they are
Theyre hanging tough in a soho bar
Playing guitars in the underground
Gone down to london tryin to chase that sound
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
So I ask you should I cry or laugh
Drinking tea in a kings cross caff
A leather jacket against the cold
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can I Get a Witness?
If people are not reading...
That does not mean,
A comprehension is not welcomed.
If they are not feeding,
From beliefs...
They too are qualified,
To allow thinking to be done!
And as this ignorance is toasted and spread...
By some who are fed,
They can only achieve by keeping suppression,
Dealt to those oppressed instead.
A lowered standard of life...
Lowers below that of a flower bed.
And an acceptance only blooms,
A stench to climb like vines on fences.
Getting the attention,
Of hard thickened heads!
'Some fools can't see,
Their outlooks can be foolish.
When they perceive,
Themselves kings and queens.
And when they become,
Stung by all their madnesss...
They choose to speed up,
Their own suffering! '
Let us sway with the rhythm.
In dimmed lighting, please.
'Some fools can't see,
Their outlooks can be foolish! '
That's right...
Lower the lights.
'When they perceive,
Themselves as kings and queens.'
Pass the crumbs to those humming.
'When they become,
Stung by all their madness.'
Can I get a witness?
'They choose to speed up,
Their own suffering! '
Boo hoo
Boo hoo
Boo
Hoo
Hoooooo.
Bah dah dah boo hoo...
'Some fools can't see,
Their outlooks can be foolish.'
Bah dah dah boo hoo...
'When they perceive,
Themselves kings and queens.'
Bah dah dah boo hoo...
'And when they become,
Stung by all their madnesss.'
Bah dah dah boo hoo...
'They choose to speed up,
Their own suffering! '
Boo hoo
Boo hoo
Boo
Hoo
Hoooooo.
Boo hoo
Boo hoo
Boo
Hoo
Hoooooo.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Goodbye London
GOODBYE LONDON
I hear the whispers of London in my ears,
London! London! is how the birds sing,
oh, i love the english bus ride and the ancient buildings,
where the trees and the animals can stop dancing,
If men where horses, hopes will vanish in wheelchair,
Oh, I feel like enjoying in the queens empire of riches,
where the love the love of english beer won't stop flowing in my lips,
I know why I still dreams of cheese and the humpty-dumpty children will fly like wizards,
Oh, I remember the window of gossips of the old women,
I know why the london bridge wears a crown,
Oh, I never want to say goodbye to the land of the colonies,
where the beauty of flowers can stop milking,
where the voice of flute can stop roaring into the air,
where everyones fall in love with the empires,
And if you're searching for the crystal ball of snow,
London is where honey 's clock keep alarming,
Goodbye london of the Amazones of green light.
Yomi-Habib.
poem by Abayomi Habib
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Albert and the 'Eadsman
On young Albert Ramsbottom's birthday
His parents asked what he'd like most;
He said to see t' Tower of London
And gaze upon Anne Boleyn's ghost.
They thowt this request were unusual
And at first to refuse were inclined,
'Til Pa said a trip t' metrollopse
Might broaden the little lad's mind.
They took charrybank up to London
And got there at quarter to fower,
Then seeing as pubs wasn't open
They went straight away to the tower.
They didn't think much to the buildin'
'T weren't what they'd been led to suppose,
And the 'Bad Word' Tower didn't impress them,
They said Blackpool had got one of those.
At last Albert found a Beefeater
And filled the old chap with alarm.
By asking for Ghost of Anne Boleyn
As carried her 'ead 'neath her arm.
Said Beefeater 'You ought to come Fridays
If it's ghost of Anne Boleyn you seek,
Her union now limits her output
And she only gets one walk a week.
'But,' he said, 'if it's ghosts that you're after,
There's Lady Jane Grey's to be seen,
She runs around chased by the 'Eadsman
At midnight on th' old Tower Green.'
They waited on t' green till near midnight,
Then thinking they'd time for a sup,
They took out what food they'd brought with them
And waited for t' ghost to turn up.
On the first stroke of twelve, up jumped Albert,
His mouth full of cold, dripping toast,
With his stick with the 'orses 'ead 'andle
He pointed, and said 'Here's the ghost!'
They felt their skins going all goosey
As Lady Jane's Spectre drew near
And Albert fair swallered his tonsils
When the 'Eadsman an' all did appear.
The 'Eadsman chased Jane round the grass patch
They saw his axe flash in the moon
And seeing as poor lass were 'eadless
They wondered what what next he would prune.
He suddenly caught sight of Albert
As midnight was on its last chime
As he lifted his axe, father murmered
'We'll get the insurance this time.'
At that, Mother rose, taking umbridge;
She said, 'Put that cleaver away.
You're not cutting our Albert's 'ead off,
Yon collar were clean on today.
The brave little lad stood undaunted
'Til the ghost were within half a pace.
Then taking the toast he were eating,
Slapped it, dripping side down, in his face.
'T were a proper set-back for the 'Eadsman
He let out one 'owl of despair,
Then taking his ladyfriend with him
He disappeared - just like that, there.
When Pa saw the way as they vanished
He trembled with fear and looked blue,
'Til Ma went and patted his shoulder
An' said, 'Sallright lad, we saw it too.'
Some say 'twere the drippin' as done it,
From a roast leg of mutton it came,
And as th' 'Eadsman had been a Beefeater
They reckon he vanished from shame.
And around Tower Green, from that moment,
They've ne're seen a sign of the ghost,
But when t' Beefeaters go on night duty,
They take slices of cold drippin' toast.
poem by Marriott Edgar
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London
We came from the far North
summered in Crimea
deserted the armed forces
had to disappear
made it to the free West
on a chartered flight
so we could see what
we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
Looking for hard work
or credit card fraud
What do you expect from us?
We come from abroad
to get ourselves a new job
on a building-site
They work you so hard
but we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
My father fought in Afghanistan
His widow's pension ain't worth a damn
My mother works and goes home to cry
I want to live before I die
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dove of Dacca
The freed dove flew to the Rajah's tower—
Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings—
And the thorns have covered the city of Gaur.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove!
Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings!
The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall;
He set in his bosom a dove of flight—
`If she return, be sure that I fall."
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove!
Pressed to his heart in the thick of the fight.
"Fire the palace, the fort, and the keep—
Leave to the foeman no spoil at all.
In the flame of the palace lie down and sleep
If the dove—if the dove—if the homing dove
Come, and alone, to the palace wall."
The Kings of the North they were scattered abroad—
The Rajah of Dacca he slew them all.
Hot from slaughter he stooped at the ford,
And the dove—the dove—oh, the homing dove!
She thought of her cote on the palace-wall.
She opened her wings and she flew away—
Fluttered away beyond recall;
She came to the palace at break of day.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove,
Flying so fast for a kingdom's fall!
The Queens of Dacca they slept in flame—
Slept in the flame of the palace old—
To save their honour from Moslem shame.
And the dove—the dove—oh, the homing dove,
She cooed to her young where the smoke-cloud rolled!
The Rajah of Dacca rode far and fleet,
Followed as fast as a horse could fly,
He came and the palace was black at his feet;
And the dove—the dove—the homing dove,
Circled alone in the stainless sky.
So the dove flew to the Rajah's tower—
Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings;
So the thorns covered the city of Gaur,
And Dacca was lost for a white dove's wings.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove,
Dacca is lost from the Roll of the Kings!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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London
It was november 4th
I last held your hand
It seemed our time would last forever
You said dont ever leave
I thought youd never go
I wish I could just remember your name...
Youre just a memory now
Like all the ones before
But with your pain Ive had to suffer
Your eyes alight with flame
As the picture burns
I hear the screams from long ago
They cry remember, blood-red streaks on
Velvet throats at night
The streetlights fanned our trail of fame
Through
London london
The memories will never leave me
London london
All I see is you
London london
The cries in the night
Keep bringing me to
London london
Calling out to me
Oh theres some things in life I could never face
The worst is being alone
Sometimes I wish I could have taken your
Place my love
You know I dont want to live forever
Oh let me see you standing in the
Shadows once again
Well walk the streets like long ago in
London london
The fire in your eyes will be bringing me to
London london
All I need is you
The cries in the night keep ringing on in
London london
Calling out to you
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many students have become kings or queens, but no teachers have.
London Song
Theres a room in a house in a street in a manor in a borough
Thats part of a city that is generally referred to as london
Its a dark place, a mysterious place
And it is said that if youre born within the sound of bow-bells
You have the necessary qualifications to be christened a londoner
[its a cruel place, its a hard place]
But when you think back to all the great londoners
William blake, charles dickens, dick whittington,
Pearly kings, barrow boys, arthur daley, max wall
And dont forget the kray twins
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day
You can see right down to leicester square [london, london]
Crystal palace, clapham common, right down to streatham hill
North and south, I feel that Im a londoner still [london, london]
Chiswick bridge to newham and east ham
Churchbells ring out through the land
You were born in london, england
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
And theres a tap by a reservoir, leading to a stream,
That turns into a river estuary that eventually opens to the sea
[london, london]
And theres a docker by a wharf, sending cargo overseas,
Unloading foreign trade from a large ocean vessel
In the mighty metropolitan port of london
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
When I think of all the londoners still unsung
East-enders, west-enders, oriental-enders
Fu manchu, sherlock holmes, jack spock, henry cooper,
Thomas abecket, thomas moore, and dont forget the kray twins
Theres a part of me that says get out
Then one day Ill hear somebody shout
Sounds to me like you come from london town
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day,
Ill be there [Ill be there]
Yes I will be there [there]
Through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Girls Of London (feat. Frank Zappa)
Do you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They're dressed really stupid
But they think they're O.K.
And they got no use for you
The dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps them lookin' sorta half in a daze
Well the dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
You see 'em dancing at the disco every night
Like a bunch of little robot queens
Making little noises full of fake delight
But they're really just so full of beans
The dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dead Girls Of London [w/frank Zappa]
Do you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They're dressed really stupid
But they think they're o.k.
And they got no use for you
The dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps them lookin' sorta half in a daze
Well the dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of london
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
You see 'em dancing at the disco every night
Like a bunch of little robot queens
Making little noises full of fake delight
But they're really just so full of beans
The dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of london
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cant Be Stopped
Nothings gonna stop us
We cant be stopped
I know that its not been easy
Trying to make it in this crazy world
People round you try to stop you
Stomp you saying that you dont belong
You must remember that
We were born with blood of kings and queens
And cant be stopped
Stay stronger my sister you cant be stopped
No, you cant be stopped
I know that sometimes
You get to feelin Ive given up on you
The pressure seems to, to defeat you
Beat you when you feel you cant go on
You must remember that
You were born with blood of kings and queens
And cant be stopped
Stay stronger my brother you cant be stopped
No, you cant be stopped
Dont ever let nobody tell you you aint strong enough
Strong enough, dont let nobody tell you you aint
Strong enough, dont let nobody tell you
You know that I will be right here
To remind you that we need
Togetherness, cause lost pride
Has no room, if you dont forget
Where you come from
song performed by by Janet Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to London
London where parliament convenes,
Home of the pearly kings and queens,
Crowds of people on shopping sprees,
Remember to mind the gap please,
Cockneys bound by ringing Bow bells,
The streets where the Spring Heeled Jack dwells,
Set to the clockwork of Big Ben,
Soon the royal guards change again,
Great treasures such as the crown jewels,
Westminster abbey and st. Paul's,
Road traffic crammed with red buses,
Every other local cusses,
Around the snaking River Thames,
History of the big smoke stems,
Grim streets that have charm regardless,
To the plush Buckingham Palace.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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