Harry Truman
America needs you
Harry truman
Harry could you please come home
Things are looking bad
I know you would be mad
To see your favorite men
Prevail upon the land you love
Americas wondering
How we got here
Harry all we get is lies
Were gettin safer cars
Rocket ships to mars
From men whod sell us out
To get themselves a piece of power
Wed love to hear you speak your mind
In plain and simple ways
Call a spade a spade
Like you did back in the days
You would play piano
Each morning walk a mile
Speak of what was going down
With honesty and style
Americas calling
Harry truman
Harry you know what to do
The world is turnin round and losin lots of ground
Oh harry is there something we can do to save the land we love
Oh woah woah woah
Americas calling
Harry truman
Harry you know what to do
The world is turnin round
And losin lots of ground
Harry is there something we can do to save the land we love
Oh
Harry is there something we can do to save the land we love
Harry
Harry is there something we can do to save the land we love
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Harry Rag
Ah, tom is young and tom is bold
Tom is as bold as the knights of old
But whenever he gets in a bit of a jam
Theres nothing he wont do to get a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And he curses himself for the life hes led
And rolls himself a harry rag and puts himself to bed
Ah, toms old ma is a dying lass
Soon they all reckon shell be pushing up the grass
And her bones might ache and her skin might sag
But still shes got the strength to have a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And she curses herself for the life shes led
And rolls herself a harry rag and puts herself to bed
Ah, bless you tax man, bless you all
You may take some but you never take it all
But if I give it all, I wont feel sad
As long as I got enough to buy a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And I curse myself for the life Ive led
And roll myself a harry rag and put myself to bed
Ah, the smart young ladies of the land
Cant relax without a harry in their hand
And they light one and they boast and brag
So content because they got a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And theyll light one and theyll boast and brag
So content because they got a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Ill do anything just to get a harry rag
And I curse myself for the life Ive led
And roll myself a harry rag and put myself to bed
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harry Rag
Ah, tom is young and tom is bold
Tom is as bold as the knights of old
But whenever he gets in a bit of a jam
Theres nothing he wont do to get a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And he curses himself for the life hes led
And rolls himself a harry rag and puts himself to bed
Ah, toms old ma is a dying lass
Soon they all reckon shell be pushing up the grass
And her bones might ache and her skin might sag
But still shes got the strength to have a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And she curses herself for the life shes led
And rolls herself a harry rag and puts herself to bed
Ah, bless you tax man, bless you all
You may take some but you never take it all
But if I give it all, I wont feel sad
As long as I got enough to buy a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And I curse myself for the life Ive led
And roll myself a harry rag and put myself to bed
Ah, the smart young ladies of the land
Cant relax without a harry in their hand
And they light one and they boast and brag
So content because they got a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Do anything just to get a harry rag
And theyll light one and theyll boast and brag
So content because they got a harry rag
Harry rag, harry rag
Ill do anything just to get a harry rag
And I curse myself for the life Ive led
And roll myself a harry rag and put myself to bed
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harry the Wu
What can I do, Harry the Wu,
A policeman will come
And ask questions of you,
He'll pull out his book
And his pencil, too,
And look very sternly
At Harry the Wu.
Oh, Harry the Wu, what did you do,
While I was in bed
Going down with the flu,
I didn't get up until
Half past two,
And you're so impatient,
Harry the Wu.
I knew there was something that
I had to do,
I had to get up and feed
Harry the Wu,
That bowl in the fridge of
The left-over stew
Was meant for your dinner,
Harry the Wu.
Oh what can I do, Harry the Wu,
They'll probably lock you
Away in the zoo,
And then you will miss me
And I'll miss you too,
Life is a tragedy,
Harry the Wu.
I thought that you knew,
Harry the Wu,
That there are some things
You are not meant to do,
Now all that is left is
The Postman's shoe,
His hat and his bag
You have eaten them too.
What can I do, Harry the Wu,
You've ripped off the policeman's
Trousers, too,
You'd better go hide in
The chimney flu,
Stop wagging your tail at me
Harry the Wu.
13 April 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harry
you must be smellin' cherries and strawberries and peaches
and plums
roses and dandelions
special lovin' on the nite I spent with you
it was the best that I've had lately
but it didn't mean anything
and I will be glad when you stop callin' me
harry
don't wanna be your girlfriend
but boy when you want the lovin'
come and see me harry
swore my ever lasting true love to you
said that I need ya I want ya didn't I baby
but I was just kiddin' 'round
and I will be glad when you stop callin' my house
harry
don't wanna be your girlfriend
but boy when you want the lovin'
come and see me harry
it's a shame harry
cause you such a beautiful thing harry
you tell em that you love and I bet you do
but love's not my thing right now harry
all I wanna do is swing
and when you're ready
I'm here for you
please harry
stop callin' me
harry
don't wanna be your girlfriend
but boy when you want the lovin'
feel free to come and see me harry
song performed by by Macy Gray from The ID
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harry’s Come Marching Home Again (Written In March 2008)
Harry’s come marching home again, Hooray! Hooray!
From Afghanistan, not to roam again, he is back, to stay.
Whilst the flags are out and the bugles blare
I am sure he wishes he still were there.
And we all feel proud Prince Harry has come back home.
Harry’s come flying home again, Hooray! Hooray!
Since media hacks have hunted him down as prey, for pay.
They’ve snitched and let the cat out of the bag
And he’s had to fly home and brave jet lag
And I’m sure he’s sick he’s had to come flying home.
Harry’s come sailing home again, Hooray! Hooray!
It would just have been a security risk to stay, they say.
Now the papers groan and wonder what
They can do with him, now he can’t get shot
But they’ve got their scoop now Harry’s come sailing home.
Harry’s come driving home again, Hooray! Hooray!
Now he can go back on the town again, to play and stray
And the paparazzi will take their snaps
While he’s on the booze with a few of the chaps
And they’ll take their cut now Harry’s come driving home.
Harry’s come marching home again, Hooray! Hooray!
From Afghanistan, not to roam again. Is he back to stay
Till the next time he is sent off to fight,
If they hush it up? Will it all be right?
Do we all feel proud Prince Harry has come back home?
poem by C. Richard Miles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harry
Yahweh appeared to Abram and said:
'To your descendants i will give this land';
And today from the source of Isaac,
The descendants of Abram are on the land!
Oh Harry, i am in great distress and i need you around me;
So come and warm me with your love tonight.
Harry my love, you are all that i need.
Abner was buried in Hebron and,
I do have you as my lover;
So come and warm me with your love tonight.
Oh Harry, my distress is like shields and spears;
But do bury me in the tomb i dug for myself,
For the dignitaries at Abel Mitzraim are waiting for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Brickie
Sometimes his false teeth fell out as he ate
his sandwiches in the tea-break; but he had
the laughing eyes of a barrow boy and the
stride of Goliath. He liked a pint after work
and hated it when children didn`t get enough to eat.
No fan of book learning he was clever in his own way
- he could put up a wall quicker than a fat aunt
could crush a lost biscuit by sitting on it - and
we all liked him, even the boys from Letterkenny who
never said much.
We were gods of sand and gravel.
We could build anything.
And when we drove home through Islington
we all sang, Krishna like:
Harry Brickie, Harry Brickie, Brickie Brickie, Harry Harry.
Here`s to you mate.
Please forgive me for writing a poem about you.
poem by Leslie Philibert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set In The Ways
Set in the ways we recognise,
The ways of men are not condemned;
Do not harry me intentionally or frustratingly,
Harry me never in this world.
Set the standards of health and live beyond,
Beyond this life is another death,
Death shall appear and recognise you.
Harassing me is like giving a death to me,
So please understand the ways of slaughter
Before you harry my body and mind
For your very benefit.
Men are smoothly appearing before us
With women on their shoulders,
Children are hanging not harrying
So please do not condemn their appearance,
It is another death.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Uncle Harry
Oh, never let on to your own true love
That ever you drank a drop;
That ever you played in a two-up school
Or slept in a sly-grog shop;
That ever a bad girl nursed you round –
That ever you sank so low.
But she pulled you through, and it's only you
And your old mate Harry know.
"Billy the Link" they called you then,
And it makes me sad to think
Of the strenuous days when it took three cops
And a pimp to couple the Link.
"Mister Linkhurst" they call you now,
And your kitchen garden grows;
And no one knows in your family,
But your Uncle Harry knows.
Oh, never let on to your fair young bride
How a "straight" girl stabbed your heart
With a devilish wire to the Western side
Where we were a world apart.
With pick and shovel you fought it out
Where the red sirocco blows;
And no one knew in the gang save you –
But your old mate Harry knows.
Oh, never let on to your own good wife,
For a tender heart has she,
Of the girl that loved and the girl that lies
In the graveyard there by the sea!
'Twas not for his "manners" she loved the cad,
'Twas not for his verse or prose,
But the pity she felt for the country lad –
And your Uncle Harry knows.
The bad girl went where the bad girls go
And I see her dark eyes yet;
The good girl left me her broken heart,
But I trow that their souls have met.
The cry of the heart we send not forth
On every wind that blows;
You are hiding a sorrow from someone now –
But your Uncle Harry knows.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Harrys Circumcision - Reverie Gone Astray
Looking in the mirror
Harry didnt like what he saw
The cheeks of his mother, the eyes of his father
As each day crashed around him
The future stood revealed
He was turning into his parents
The final disappointment
Stepping out of the shower
Harry stared at himself
His hairline receding, the slight overbite
He picked up the razor to begin his shaving and thought -
- oh, I wish I was different
I wish I was stronger
I wish I was thinner
I wish I didnt have this nose
These ears that stick out remind me of my father
And I dont want to be reminded at all
The final disappointment
Harry looked in the mirror thinking of vincent van gogh
And with a quick swipe lopped off his nose
And happy with that he made a slice where his chin was
Hed always wanted a dimple
The end of all illusion
Then peering down straight between his legs
Harry thought of the range of possibilities
A new face, a new life, no memories of the past
And slit his throat from ear to ear
Harry woke up with a cough
The stitches made him wince
A doctor smiled at him from
Somewhere across the room
Son, we saved your life
But youll never look the same
And when he heard that
Harry had to laugh
And when he heard that
Harry had to laugh
Although it hurt harry had to laugh
The final disappointment
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Songs Without Words
When they brought him to the Hospital
He was listed as John Doe.
He would have liked the irony-
as Harry Chapin was well known.
His hair was like a lion’s mane
His face both kind and strong
Though doctor’s tried and nurses cried
Harry had sung his last song.
Like Wednesdays’ child with far to go,
He’d been on the road that day.
He was scheduled for a concert
For which he’d take no pay.
He sang songs for the suppers
of the poor and the deprived.
He may not have been “Religious”
-but he lived life sanctified-
His car was observed slowing down
And weaving between lanes
He might even have been dying then
of Coronary pains.
The trucker behind him could not stop
He rode the brakes in vain.
The truck smashed into Harry’s car
which promptly burst in flames.
The Trucker and a Motorist
dragged Harry from the flames.
I’d dearly love to thank them both
But I don’t know their names.
They Med-evacuated him
A helicopter came.
They brought Him to Nassau County Med-
reporting “John Doe” as his name.
On that torrid summer day,
Without a breath of air,
There would not be an encore
That much, at least, was clear.
Harry’s eyes were glazing over,
It was certain he had passed.
I hope he had a peaceful end
when his Corey came at last.
(A tribute to Harry Foster Chapin: , Singer, Songwriter and Philanthropist. 12/07/42-07/16/81)
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Mess Of A Man
Meet a man,
A man named Harry,
He's in need of a shave,
And it's quite scary,
He's got hair on his chest,
Hair on his back,
Hair on his ass,
And hair in his crack,
He leaves hair on the soap,
Hair on the floor,
Hair every place,
Including the store,
Harry, dear Harry,
Do something, please,
Your hair retains odor,
And you reek of cheese!
Look at your cat,
What will you do?
Your cat's hairballs,
They're the hairs from you!
No hope, it seems,
For your hairiness,
It'll just regrow,
So live in your mess.
poem by Maddy Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harry's Circumcision
Looking in the mirror Harry didn't like what he saw
The cheeks of his mother the eyes of his father
As each day crashed around him the future stood revealed
He was turning into his parents
The final disappointment
Stepping out of the shower Harry stared at himself
His hairline receding the slight overbite
He picked up the razor to begin his shaving
and thought oh I wish I was different
I wish I was stronger I wish I was thinner
I wish I didn't have this nose
These ears that stick out remind me of my father
and I don't want to be reminded at all
The final disappointment
Harry looked into the mirror thinking of Vincent Van Gogh
and with a quick swipe lopped off his nose
And happy with that he made a slice where his chin was
He's always wanted a dimple
The end of all illusion
Then peering down straight between his legs
Harry thought of the range of possibilities
A new face a new life no memories of the past
and slit his throat from ear to ear
Harry woke up with a cough the stitches made his wince
A doctor smiled at him from somewhere across the room
Son we saved your life but you'll never look the same
And when he heard that, Harry had to laugh
Although it hurt Harry had to laugh
The final disappointment
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
J.K. Rowling in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny Mercer was my father's best friend and became mine as well. And Harold Arlen, whom I would call Uncle Harry, and Harry Warren: those were ones who I really became close to.
quote by Margaret Whiting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take a two-mile walk every morning before breakfast.
quote by Harry Truman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Mary - Sweet Laurie
Mary, born a little pre
had some trouble breathing,
also, nightly she would pee
and she screamed while teething.
In the private school she met
Laurie from Chicago
Laurie wore a silver net
loved old Doc Tshivago.
Laurie was a trifle sweet
had no use for men,
got just formula to eat
though she rated ten.
Missed the milk that Nature makes,
which was one good reason
to demand those frequent breaks
during hunting season.
Meaning, puberty and all
girls are searching daily
Laurie who was rather tall
laughed and smiled so gaily,
when they had the prom that year
Laurie tasted Mary,
and she dumped, (for good I fear)
Polish boy named Harry.
Harry had, (he was quite mad)
followed Mary over,
Harry's uncle told the lad
(was an Aussie drover) ,
get your hands on any bird
never pay no mind,
what she says, and take my word
grab her from behind.
Harry tried and was rebuffed
Laurie was to smitten!
Harry pouted, Harry huffed
from the lovebug bitten.
In the flat on 69
girls were reminiscin'
after some cheap Gallo wine
they were gently kissin'.
Later on, when Laurie woke
Mary said I reckon,
you are better than a bloke
all they want is neckin'.
If we practice, Laury said
try manipulation,
here in our Kingsize bed
we may get lactation.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Sang those Songs Without Words
When they brought him to the Hospital
He was listed as John Doe.
He would have liked the irony-
as Harry Chapin fans well know..
His hair was like a lion’s mane
His face both kind and strong
Though doctor’s tried and nurses cried
Harry had sung his last song.
Like Wednesdays’ child with far to go,
He’d been on the road that day.
He was scheduled for a concert
For which he’d take no pay.
He sang songs for the suppers
of the poor and the deprived.
He may not have been “Religious”
-but he lived life sanctified-
His car was observed slowing down
And weaving between lanes
He might even have been dying then
of Coronary pains.
The trucker behind him could not stop
He rode the brakes in vain.
The truck smashed into Harry’s car
which promptly burst in flames.
The Trucker and a Motorist
dragged Harry from the flames.
I’d dearly love to thank them both
But I don’t know their names.
They Med-evacuated him
A helicopter came.
They brought Him to Nassau County Med-
listing “John Doe” as his name.
On that torrid summer day,
Without a breath of air,
There would not be an encore
That much, at least, was clear.
Left incomplete were several songs
whose words he never got to write.
Music that he never shared,
All lost within the dying of the light.
Harry’s eyes were glazing over,
It was certain he had passed.
I hope he had a peaceful end
when his Corey came for him at last.
(A tribute to Harry Foster Chapin: , Singer, Songwriter and Philanthropist. 12/07/42-07/16/81)
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the Raising of the Mary Rose
'Long since I sailed me
I and ‘Great Harry’
Pride of the ragged fleet
When we were merrie,
Heel at the wind, my tars,
Gunports at ready.'
'There sat the Frenchman
Here, our great ships,
Hard on the helm we are
As the port dips,
Long cries of ‘Mary Rose’
Die on their lips.'
'Deep-dredged these centuries
Now wedged on high
Stark, as my timbers
Wide-arc the sky;
Where now ‘Great Harry’,
Where does he lie? '
'Torn from my bitter-rest
Borne to your day,
Wide-eyed and wild is my
Sad disarray;
Tell my ‘Great Harry’ now –
Your world is grey.'
14 October 1982
poem by David Lewis Paget
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A Countryside Dream
Harry and his wife were up in their loft
at their home just outside Felixstowe
they were rummaging through stuff
left to them by his eccentric Aunt Flo.
'Old Flo loved to collect antiques, said Harry
she was always going to auctions and sales
so you never know what we could find
look, remember this old painting she bought in Wales? '
They wiped away years of dust and cobwebs
to reveal a picture of verdant fields and a stream
in the bottom corner was the artists signature
on the back were the words: A Countryside Dream.
Whilst looking for the picture and artist on the Internet
Harry suddenly began to sweat and then shake
because unbeknown to his eccentric Aunt Flo
she had obtained a masterpiece by the great Mr Cake.
So the painting went up for sale at Sotheby's
Harry and his wife wondering how much would it make?
It eventually sold for a staggering Fifty Million Quid
this Victorian masterpiece by the illustrious Mr Cake.
But sadly this tale isn't all what it seems
as poor old Harry was just having a weird dream
he'd fallen asleep whist watching the Antiques Roadshow
after eating far too much Cake, and Ice-Cream!
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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