Related quotes: First one in the city...

Raining

First one in the city
Wearin' all those grass stained jeans
Nothing is forgotten, everyone is pleased.
Someone got his hair cut
The girls have lots to say
His friends had felt more comfortable
With it worn the other way
And I don't know if I'll see you again.
Next one at the old house
Snow is on the ground
Photographs and wine are passed around
Someone toasts an absent friend
Another takes his seat
They gather round the dying fire
But the circle's not complete
And I don't know if I'll see you again
Last one by the highway
Wind blows through thin smiles
Someone made a wrong turn
Missed a joke by miles
Someone got their hair cut
A tear in her eye
But no one even comments -
Except to say 'goodbye'
And I don't know if I'll see you again

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

Reunions

(carly simon)
First one in the city
Wearin all those grass stained jeans
Nothing is forgotten, everyone is pleased.
Someone got his hair cut
The girls have lots to say
His friends had felt more comfortable
With it worn the other way
And I dont know if Ill see you again.
Next one at the old house
Snow is on the ground
Photographs and wine are passed around
Someone toasts an absent friend
Another takes his seat
They gather round the dying fire
But the circles not complete
And I dont know if Ill see you again
Last one by the highway
Wind blows through thin smiles
Someone made a wrong turn
Missed a joke by miles
Someone got their hair cut
A tear in her eye
But no one even comments -
Except to say goodbye
And I dont know if Ill see you again.

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Assembly

As I walked to the last assembly,
There were tears in the back of my eyes,
And I saw all my friends all around me,
They were there to wish me goodbye.
As I stood in a line with my comrades,
I felt such a feeling of pride,
And I forgot all the grief and the hatred inside,
As we sang for the very last time.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
Come and join our last assembly,
Let us smile, wipe away all the frowns.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As we stood at the last assembly,
All my friends came to wish me goodbye.
Gather round, gather round,
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As I stand at the last assembly,
I just cant keep the tears from my eyes.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wind From... Elsewhere

The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!

poem by Elga Haymon White
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It's My Time

It's my time
Gather round girls
You I grew up with
My old friends that I used to scuff with
Need you round me
At this time
You've all had your turn to cry
An old friend stood closely by
Friends of mine
Stand by me
'Cause it's my time
It's my time
It's my time
It's my time to cry
Mm mm mmm
It's my time to cry
Oh oh oh oh
It's my turn to cry yeah
It's my time
Gather round boys
I used to play house with
Come here boys
I first kissed on the mouth with
Need your tender words so kind
You've all had your misty eyes
An old friend stood by to dry
Friends of mine
Stand by me
'Cause it's my time
It's my time
It's my time
It's my time to cry
Whoa whoa
It's my time to cry yeah
It's my turn to cry mmm
Fade:
It's my time
It's my time
It's my time to cry mmmm

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Girl's Gone Wild

Callin' on girlfriends
Springbreak weekend
Meetin' at the Texaco-
Wine coolers six pack
Cigarettes and tic tacs
Fill it up and hit the road-
Passin' 'round the cosmo
Wearin' out the cell phone
Make it to the beach by ten-
Flip-flops and lip gloss
Bikini-tops and cut-offs
Baby let the game begin...
(Chorus)
Girls gone wild, reality TV style
Just a miles and miles of those girls gone wild-
Breakin' hearts, usin' daddy's credit card
Momma hollers, "Stop that child!"
Don't you know the girls gone wild
They're lookin' real pretty down in Panama City
They're dancin' down in New Orleans-
Cancoon, Cozumel, gettin' down and raisin' hell
Livin' every bad boy's dream-
Viva Las Vegas, gettin' outrageous
Cruisin' down the L.A. strip-
They're loaded in a limo, hangin' out the window
Wind it up and let it rip!
(Chorus)
Girls, girls, girls gone wild![girls, girls, girls gone wild]
Girls, girls, girls gone wild...
Sally, Sue and Tamra, smilin' for the camera
Dolly met a doctor from L.S.U.
Ally, Ann, and Amy, went a little crazy
Ridin' home, sittin' on a new tattoo
(Chorus)
Girls, girls, girls gone wild![girls, girls, girls gone wild]
Girls, girls, girls gone wild!!
(End)

song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Follow The Wind

Im so weary from holding this load
But its only , love for you, that I walk this lonely road
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
And the wind will take me hold before the cold
Evry stay I have counted
Each flower I have seen
But the place where Im going , theres no grass as green
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
And the wind will take me home where I can dream
In the hour I am lonely, youre love will be mine
I will stay in your arms dear, until comes the time
I must be on my way for my home is anywhere
I have no time to stay , I have no time to care
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
As the wind gently blows in my hair
(break)
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
As the wind gently blows in my hair
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
As the wind gently blows in my hair

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Doer Of Good

It was night-time and He was alone.

And He saw afar-off the walls of a round city and went towards the
city.

And when He came near He heard within the city the tread of the
feet of joy, and the laughter of the mouth of gladness and the loud
noise of many lutes. And He knocked at the gate and certain of the
gate-keepers opened to Him.

And He beheld a house that was of marble and had fair pillars of
marble before it. The pillars were hung with garlands, and within
and without there were torches of cedar. And He entered the house.

And when He had passed through the hall of chalcedony and the hall
of jasper, and reached the long hall of feasting, He saw lying on a
couch of sea-purple one whose hair was crowned with red roses and
whose lips were red with wine.

And He went behind him and touched him on the shoulder and said to
him, 'Why do you live like this?'

And the young man turned round and recognised Him, and made answer
and said, 'But I was a leper once, and you healed me. How else
should I live?'

And He passed out of the house and went again into the street.

And after a little while He saw one whose face and raiment were
painted and whose feet were shod with pearls. And behind her came,
slowly as a hunter, a young man who wore a cloak of two colours.
Now the face of the woman was as the fair face of an idol, and the
eyes of the young man were bright with lust.

And He followed swiftly and touched the hand of the young man and
said to him, 'Why do you look at this woman and in such wise?'

And the young man turned round and recognised Him and said, 'But I
was blind once, and you gave me sight. At what else should I
look?'

And He ran forward and touched the painted raiment of the woman and
said to her, 'Is there no other way in which to walk save the way
of sin?'

And the woman turned round and recognised Him, and laughed and
said, 'But you forgave me my sins, and the way is a pleasant way.'

And He passed out of the city.

And when He had passed out of the city He saw seated by the
roadside a young man who was weeping.

And He went towards him and touched the long locks of his hair and
said to him, 'Why are you weeping?'

And the young man looked up and recognised Him and made answer,
'But I was dead once, and you raised me from the dead. What else
should I do but weep?'

poem by Oscar Wilde
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My Friend

MY Friend wears a cheerful smile of his own,
And a musical tongue has he;
We sit and look in each other's face,
And are very good company.
A heart he has, full warm and red
As ever a heart I see;
And as long as I keep true to him,
Why, he'll keep true to me.

When the wind blows high and the snow falls fast
And we hear the wassailers' roar--
My Friend and I, with a right good-will
We bolt the chamber door:
I smile at him and he smiles at me
In a dreamy calm profound,
Till his heart leaps up in the midst of him
With a comfortable sound.

His warm breath kisses my thin gray hair
And reddens my ashen cheeks;
He knows me better than you all know,
Though never a word he speaks:--
Knows me as well as some had known
Were things--not as things be.
But hey, what matters? my Friend and I
Are capital company.

At dead of night, when the house is still,
He opens his pictures fair;
Faces that are, that used to be,
And faces that never were:
My wife sits sewing beside my hearth,
My little ones frolic wild,
Though--Lilian's married these twenty years,
And I never had a child.

But hey, what matters? When those who laugh
May weep to-morrow, and they
Who weep be as those that wept not--all
Their tears long wiped away.
I shall burn out, like you, my Friend,
With a bright warm heart and bold,
That flickers up to the last--then drops
Into quiet ashes cold.

And when you flicker on me, old Friend,
In the old man's elbow-chair,
Or--something easier still, where we
Lie down, to arise up fair
And young, and happy--why then, my Friend,
Should other friends ask of me,
Tell them I lived and loved and died
In the best of all company.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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A Snowy Sunset

Snow Snow on the ground
Sun is sinking down down down
Trees trees covered in Wight
People gasp at the sight

Snow Snow on the ground
Animals scurry all around
Snow Snow in your hair
Stiffness and cold in the air

Snow Snow on the ground
People sledding down down down
Hot Coco and coffee inside
Why not go for another sled ride

Snow Snow on the ground
The sun has set past the ground
Lights light up the city bright
People every where say what a sight

poem by Miranda Will
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I Grew My Hair Out

I finally grew my hair out.
I had tried before, but it frightened me.
It grew large, thick, black and wavy,
The hair my ancestors gave me.
They wore it long and free.

I finally grew my hair out,
And a friend said 'You look like a Greek god.'
And I said 'Which one? '
And he said 'I don't know. The chubby one that drank wine.'

And I thought about red wine
And the delighted laughter of women
About the hooves and horns
That I'd hidden inside my head
And had forgotten about, before I ever knew them.

But they were there all along, waiting.
Then I grew my hair out.

poem by Edward Allen
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The Sound of Snow

The sound of snow......
it is all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all,
like a dark still night
where sound just doesn't belong.

....it is a kitten landing on a feather pillow,
a single thin piece of paper
floating from side to side
then settling on the ground in one graceful slide,
it is a wind through a spider's web,
long silk hair tussled by a breeze
....snow is not silent it is discrete,
hiding in the open
....a three year old's sleeping breath,
a tear of joy escaping down a red round cheek
....the sound of snow is
the moment between sleep and consciousness,
fuzzy and both empty of thought and full of promise all at once,
snow is the sound dreams would make if we heard them while awake,
snow is the sound an angel makes as it guides a soul to rest.
The sound of snow
...it's all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all.

poem by TP Sage
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Doing The Unstuck

It's a perfect day for letting go
For setting fire to bridges
Boats
And other dreary worlds you know
Let's get happy!
It's a perfect day for making out
To wake up with a smile without a doubt
To burst grin giggle bliss skip jump and sing and shout
Let's get happy!
But it's much to late you say
For doing this now
We should have done it then
Well it just goes to show
How wrong you can be
And how you really should know
That it's never too late
To get up and go
It's a perfect day for kiss and swell
For rip-zipping button-popping kiss and well...
There's loads of other stuff can make you yell
Let's get happy!
It's a perfect day for doing the unstuck
For dancing like you can't hear the beat
And you don't give a further thought
To things like feet
Let's get happy!
But it's much too late you say
For doing this now
We should have done it then
Well it just goes to show
How wrong you can be
And how you really should know
That it's never too late
To get up and go
Kick out the gloom
Kick out the blues
Tear out the pages with all the bad news
Pull down the mirrors and pull down the walls
Tear up the stairs and tear up the floors
Oh just burn down the house!
Burn down the street!
Turn everything red and the beat is complete
With the sound of your world
Going up in fire
It's a perfect day to throw back your head
And kiss it all goodbye
It's a perfect day for getting old
Forgetting all your worries
Life
And everything that makes you cry
Let's get happy!
It's a perfect day for dreams come true
For thinking big
And doing anything you want to do
Let's get happy!
But it's much too late you say
For doing this now
We should have done it then
Well it just goes to show
How wrong you can be
And how you really should know
That it's never too late
To get up and go
Kick out the gloom
Kick out the blues
Tear out the pages with all the bad news
Pull down the mirrors and pull down the walls
Tear up the stairs and tear up the floors
Oh just burn down the house!
Burn down the street!
Turn everything red and the dream is complete
With the sound of your world
Going up in fire
It's a perfect day to throw back your head
And kiss it all goodbye

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wendell Gee

Thats when wendell gee takes a tug
Upon the string that held the line of trees
Behind the house he lived in
He was reared to give respect
But somewhere down the line he chose
To whistle as the wind blows
Whistle as the wind blows, with me
He had a dream one night
That the tree had lost its middle
So he built a trunk of chicken wire
To try to hold it up
But the wire, the wire turned to lizard skin
And when he climbed inside
There wasnt even time to say
Goodbye to wendell gee
So whistle as the wind blows
Whistle as the wind blows, with me
If the wind were colors
And if the air could speak
Then whistle as the wind blows
Whistle as the wind blows

song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bad Pretty Girl

I am the pretty one,
the one the girls hate
and the boys pant for
and I stand aloof because
there is no room for me to be
who I am.

All I get is people reacting
to how I look
and I see them whisper
'She's so stuck up.'
I am not.
I am lonely and superior to them
that make these kinds of comments.

So all day I have to take the stares
and the mini-hatreds
just because I am pretty.
I like being pretty
it comes easy to me;
takes no effort.

My hair is beautiful and I don't have to do anything to it.
My skin is good. Thank God, no zits
My figure is good
but I get the comments when I walk through-
the Neanderthals always make comments-
and I cannot help it if my parents are rich.

So I am trapped behind this wall.
I don't have to study hard to get good grades;
this school is easy.
I don't have to work hard for anything.
Things just come to me.
But it has made a prison for me
and because I don't have to get smart
or work hard-
I can get by on my looks.
My teachers like me-
one too much,
so in the end I am doing what I hate
others do-
seeing me only in terms of how I look
and I realize I am doing the same thing to myself.

I am my looks. I am trapped.
So when boys try to talk to me I clam up
because I think there is only one thing they want.
And most of the time I am right. They do-just want
one thing.
Other's of them just want to say I am their girl friend
even if that is not true just so they can brag to their friends.

Some of them lie and claim they had you, or you
are lesbian just because you don't like them.

I am the pretty girl and most times that is pretty sad.

So I don't talk to anyone except other pretty girls.
They understand. They have the pretty girl thing too.

So we stand around sometimes and think we are superior
but we also think secretly we might be inferior and lonely too
and who is going to feel sorry for the pretty girl? Nobody that's who.

So I dated the football guy who was pretty too. It seemed he would
understand-handsome and pretty, the same thing I thought.
Boy was I wrong. He was his mothers' boy and only liked me
because he thought there was prestige in it. And I did it for
the same reason. We both were boring when alone and tried to
look like the super couple when people were around.
I was bored and truth be told I was also boring.
I had nothing to say and all's he wanted to talk about was football
and sex.
I told him no.
And then he latched onto my best friend, well I called her my best friend, but
we were not really friends. We just sorta hung out together.
My real best friend was Alma for a while. She was the ugly sidekick
pretty girls seem to attract. All she wanted to do was be with me. She did
everything I asked her to, sometimes without me even asking. I began to think that just maybe being pretty was being superior. People like Alma
made it easy to think that. She seemed to think I was superior.
I used to lie to her about all the boys coming on to me and things they said and she believed those lies. I felt I had to tell the stories because the stories seemed to mean so much to her. Besides telling her the phony stories gave me a fantasy life to make up for my real one.
We were a good pair of friends for a while until Alma told me one day about her love. Her love for me. And I realized she was not talking about friend love.
That's another thing, you get come ons from both genders and some like Alma turn into stalkers. She lied and told her friend that we had been together. A total lie.
That is why high school is prison camp for the pretty girl.
I broke down one day while talking to Geek Billy who came over to my house to fix my computer. He was rad-geek and shorter than me and I never really considered him a real person or anything so I was talking like he was not even there. I was saying 'why me, why does everyone hate me? '
He started yammering that he didn't hate me, and put his arm around me. I looked up and saw that he was not trying to jump my bones, he really was trying to comfort me like he understood and all that. It was laughable you know. I was so above him and everything but he seemed that day like a real person to me for just a tiny minute.
He left and I lay on my bed and wrote into my diary-'Geek boy loves me.'
I wrote: 'I am the pretty girl no one likes because I am above them.'

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am the Pretty Girl-Chapter One

Pretty Hurts
I am the pretty one,

the one the girls hate

and the boys pant for

and I stand aloof because

there is no room for me to be

who I am.

All I get is people reacting

to how I look

and I see them whisper

'She's so stuck up.'

I am not.

I am lonely and superior to them

that make these kinds of comments.

So all day I have to take the stares

and the mini-hatreds

just because I am pretty.

I like being pretty

it comes easy to me;

takes no effort.

My hair is beautiful and I don't have to do anything to it.

My skin is good. Thank God, no zits

My figure is good

but I get the comments when I walk through-

the Neanderthals always make comments-

and I cannot help it if my parents are rich.

So I am trapped behind this wall.

I don't have to study hard to get good grades;

this school is easy.

I don't have to work hard for anything.

Things just come to me.

But, it has made a prison for me

and because I don't have to get smart

or work hard-

I can get by on my looks,

my teachers like me-

one too much;

so in the end I am doing what I hate

others do-

seeing me only in terms of how I look-

and I realize I am doing the same thing to myself.

I am my looks.
I am trapped.

So when boys try to talk to me I clam up

because I think there is only one thing they want.

And most of the time I am right.

They do-just want

one thing.

Other's of them just want to say I am their girl friend

even if that is not true just so they can brag to their friends.

Some of them lie and claim they had you,
or you

are lesbian
just because you don't like them.

I am the pretty girl and most times that is pretty sad.

So I don't talk to anyone except other pretty girls.

They understand. They have the pretty girl thing too.

So we stand around sometimes and think we are superior

but we also think secretly we might be inferior and lonely too

and who is going to feel sorry for the pretty girl? Nobody that's who.

So I dated the football guy who was pretty too.
It seemed he would understand-handsome and pretty,
the same thing I thought.

Boy was I wrong. He was his mothers' boy
and only liked me

because he thought there was prestige in it.
And I did it for the same reason.

We both were boring when alone
and tried to look like the super couple
when people were around.

I was bored and truth be told I was also boring.

I had nothing to say
and all's he wanted to talk about was football

and sex.

I told him no.

And then he latched onto my best friend, well I called her my best friend, but

we were not really friends. We just sorta hung out together.

My real best friend was Alma for a while.
She was the ugly sidekick

pretty girls seem to attract.
All she wanted to do was be with me.

She did everything I asked her to,
sometimes without me even asking.
I began to think that just maybe being pretty was being superior.
People like Alma

made it easy to think that.
She seemed to think I was superior.

I used to lie to her about all the boys coming on to me
and things they said and she believed those lies.

I felt I had to tell the stories
because the stories seemed to mean so much to her.
Besides telling her the phony stories
gave me a fantasy life to make up for my real one.

We were a good pair of friends for a while
until Alma told me one day about her love;
Her love for me.
And I realized she was not talking about friend love.

That's another thing,
you get come on's from both genders
and some like Alma turn into stalkers.

She lied and told her friend that we had been together.
A total lie.

That is why high school is prison camp for the pretty girl.

I broke down one day while talking to Geek Billy
who came over to my house to fix my computer.
He was rad-geek and shorter than me
and I never really considered him a real person or anything
so I was talking like he was not even there.
I was saying why me, why does everyone hate me?

He started yammering that he didn't hate me,
and put his arm around me.
I looked up and saw that he was not trying to jump my bones,
he really was trying to comfort me
like he understood and all that.
It was laughable you know.

I was so above him and everything
but he seemed that day like a real person to me
for just a tiny minute.

He left and I lay on my bed
and wrote into my diary-
'Geek boy loves me.'

I wrote: 'I am the pretty girl no one likes
because I am above them.'

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Us girls

Girls are so beautiful
inside and out
love is big
hair untouched
lips so soft with our gloss

We just want fun
continuous sun
lots of love and friends
good ones, that are
there till the end

A helping hand they will lend
love always they will send
that is a true friend

us girls are so bubbly
so fine and divine
but still boys are the ones
who try the pick up lines

cuz were so gorgeous
no one can recist
come on girls agree
with this

no boy can never handle this
(us) , us beautiful girls

cuz were all so beautiful
inside and out
love is big
hair untouched
lips so soft with our gloss

poem by Nicole Buckland
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At Home

When I was dead, my spirit turned
To seek the much-frequented house:
I passed the door, and saw my friends
Feasting beneath green orange boughs;
From hand to hand they pushed the wine,
They sucked the pulp of plum and peach;
They sang, they jested, and they laughed,
For each was loved of each.

I listened to thier honest chat:
Said one: "To-morrow we shall be
Plod plod along the featureless sands,
And coasting miles and miles of sea."
Said one: "Before the turn of tide
We will achieve the eyrie-seat."
Said one: "To-morrow shall be like
To-day, but much more sweet."

"To-morrow," said they, strong with hope,
And dwelt upon the pleasant way:
"To-morrow," cried they, one and all,
While no one spoke of yesterday.
Their life stood full at blessed noon;
I, only I, had passed away:
"To-morrow and to-day," they cried;
I was of yesterday.

I shivered comfortless, but cast
No chill across the table-cloth;
I, all-forgotten, shivered, sad
To stay, and yet to part how loth:
I passed from the familiar room,
I who from love had passed away,
Like the remembrance of a guest
That tarrieth but a day.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Will You Come To Say Goodbye

when the last breath of life
is gone from my body
and my lips are as cold as the dog’s nose
when my friends gather 'round
for my farewell party
will you come with a smile to say goodbye

there will be flowers from those
who cry when I'm gone
and lots of tears from those I left in the world alone
and I know some will have fun at my farewell party
but will you come with a smile to say goodbye

don't be mad at me for wanting your goodbye
and dying for the smile we shared
this you need to know as true
when my life on this old world is through
I'll go away loving you still

poem by Padmore Enyonam Agbemabiese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Full Circle

Youve seen me naked in more ways than one
Youve seen me done up, seen me come undone
Weve cried in the darkness, weve laughed in the sun
Weve been forever, yet weve just begun
Chorus:
Weve come full circle, all the way round
Through the good times, the bad times, through lifes ups and downs
Still weve stayed together throught thick and through thin
Yes, weve come full circle
Thank god, were still friends
You know the soft spots under my skin
Deep down inside me, where no one has been
And weve sailed troubled waters, weve soared on the wind
But times only sweetened this love that were in
Chorus:
And weve come full circle, all the way round
Throught the good times and bad times, through lifes ups and downs
Still weve stayed together through thick and through thin
Yes, weve come full circle
Thank god, were still friends
Tag chorus:
Weve cried in the darkness, laughed in the sun
Weve come full circle and weve just begun
Weve come full circle, weve been all the way round
Weve come full circle, weve been all the way round
You know weve cried in the darkness, and weve laughed in the sun
Weve stayed together, and weve just begun
Fade:
Weve come full circle, weve been all the way round
Im so glad youre still my friend
Weve come full circle, and Id do it all again