69
Flying through the night in a beat up wagon
A mike stand up my jacksy
Give me a beer and Ill stand on a chair
And slip into something sexy
Black cat woolwich, the tigers head
The cafe des artistes, the revolution and the bag o nails
Ill see you down the speak
Your ma said you slept real good in your food last nigth
But you couldnt hold it down
And you broke up a damn good fight
Ligging at the old marquee, spinning jack a line
Even he knew better than me, back in sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nine
On the road to paradiso
Back of your head, got to pay some dues
Rugged looked down as the thames swallowed
His life at the boathouse, kew
Hot girls, no ac, cheap tv, sleep on the floor
Hallelujah whats a roadie, hush my baby sleep no more
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sexy AT Sixty
I was fit and feisty at fifty
It was no big deal
Because that's how half a century
Is supposed to feel.
In my sixties I'll take stock
Start making new plans
Ignoring all the cant's
Embracing all the can's.
Can I be sexy at sixty?
And try all the fashion and fads
Wear stockings an suspenders
And Joan Collins shoulder pads.
I can deal with sexy at sixty
And wear Vivienne Westwood clothes
Dress up and go out on the town
Wearing all my buttons and bows.
I'm going to be sexy at sixty
I'll wear Gok Wan lingerie
Find myself a toy boy
Then maybe lead him astray.
Swift and sexy at sixty
When I get my Jimmy Choos
Dancing the night away
To the sound of Rhythm and Blues.
Oh! I want to be sexy at sixty
Cause age is a state of mind
I'm preparing my body at keep fit
So as not to be left behind.
But first I have to deal with
Old skin, bad teeth, grey hair
Then remove the unwanted growths
From just about everywhere.
Then! I'll definitely be sexy at sixty
And undoubtedly done it all
The only problem is that most of it
I simply won't recall.
poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Six-sixty-six
In the midst of the war
He offered us peace
And he came like a lover
From out of the east
With the face of an angel and the heart of a beast
His intentions were six-sixty-six
He walked up to the temple
With gold in his hands
And he bought off the priests
And propositioned the land
And the world was his harlot
And laid in the sand
While the band played six-sixty-six
We served at his table
And slept on the floor
But he starved us and beat us
And nailed us to the door
Well, Im ready to die
I cant take any more
And Im sick of his lies and his tricks
He told us he loved us
But that was a lie
There was blood in his pockets
And death in his eyes
Well, my number is up
And Im willing to die
If the band will play six
If the band will play six-sixty
If the band will play six-sixty-six
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66
If you ever plan to motor west
Travel my way, take the highway that's the best
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
It winds from Chicago to LA
More than two thousand miles all the way
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Now you go through Saint Looey
Joplin, Missouri
And Oklahoma City looks mi-ighty pretty
You'll see Amarillo
Gallup, New Mexico
Flagstaff, Arizona
Don't forget Winona
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino
Won't you get hip to this timely tip
When you make that California trip
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Won't you get hip to this ti-imely tip
When you make a-that California trip
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sixty - Two
At Sixty – Two I look towards my Future,
At Sixty – Two I look back on my Past,
Good advice was given, but I did not take it,
And now with regrets, downwards I am cast.
Why do we not listen to our Elders?
Why do we think that we know better still?
If we did just acknowledge their wisdom,
We’d live our Life according to HIS Will.
With hindsight I’d be a better person,
A comfortable Life I would now enjoy,
Retirement would be on the Horizon,
With trips to places as far as Hanoi.
But at Sixty – Two my World just fell apart,
One disaster followed the one that came before,
I now must pick up the pieces,
To stop the bailiffs knocking at my door.
I wish I had listened to my Elders,
I wish the right decisions I had made,
But now I know the road ahead isn’t easy,
If in the future I am to make the grade.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 9 May 2006
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Route 66
(word & lyrics by bobby troup)
This lyrics are like performed by natalie cole
If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that is best.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
It winds from chicago to la,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Now you go through saint looey
Joplin, missouri,
And oklahoma city is mighty pretty.
You see amarillo,
Gallup, new mexico,
Flagstaff, arizona.
Dont forget winona,
Kingman, barstow, san bernandino.
Wont you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that california trip
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Solo
Wont you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that california trip
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dev Anand is no more.
.
Dev Anand, a handsome ever green hero,
Died at eighty-eight, eighteen year senior,
Whom I took my style modal at eighteen.
I had had preserved his photo cuttings.
He looked sixty when he was at forty.
He kept that look intact till his sixty.
He took a look of eighty at sixty
That he kept till now to be ever green.
Dev Anand was sexy without hinting sex.
He was impish without being intense.
A romantic hero, without a scandal,
He was committed to his wife, Kalpana Karthik.
05.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The ever green
At twenty,
Many are pretty,
Youth in prime.
At thirty,
They may carry it,
Youth to the brim.
At forty,
Some remain a beauty,
Hormones in spate.
At fifty,
Rarely remains a beauty,
Lust abating.
Close to sixty,
You retain the beauty,
It is a mystery.
You still tempt me
As you did
At my five and twenty
When you were too
At my age
With your lemon colour.
Is it so ‘cause
You’re still sexy,
Or I, still hungry.
At five and sixty,
Sophia Lauren has fans,
Beauty-care to her aid.
You at sixty,
Are a real beauty,
Under nature-care.
You are to me
Miss beauty,
For the consistency.
Ever be green.
Never be brown.
Aley, the queen.
05.11.99[Aleykutty, a colleague]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Write Yours Now
The 'Journal of Death Studies' for April2004
(maybe you read it? It's in the
hospital library, top shelf
just out of wheelchair reach,
on the shelf labelled 'Reference')
observed that
nonfiction writers tend to die, factually, at sixty-eight;
novelists tie it all up at sixty-six;
playwrights lower the curtain at sixty-three,
and poets close their stanzas at sixty-two.
Well, thanks..
six years - looking on the bright side -
for your favourite biographer to write you up;
four years for novelists to borrow
your untidy life and win the Booker Prize;
a year for playwrights to emulate
the bitter dialogue of your later,
less romantic household years
with less fear of being sued.
Those whom the gods love, die young,
said the optimistic poet
shortly before he died.
for PoHo, who gave me the damn book with the reference in.
And yes, I wondered too..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Retirement at sixty-five is ridiculous. When I was sixty-five I still had pimples.
quote by George Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
With You There To Help Me
In days of peace --
Sweet smelling summer nights
Of wine and song;
Dusty pavements burning feet.
Why am I crying, I want to know.
How can I smile and make it right?
For sixty days and eighty nights
And not give in and lose the fight.
Im going back to the ones that I know,
With whom I can be what I want to be.
Just one week for the feeling to go --
And with you there to help me
Then it probably will.
I wont go down
Acting the same old play.
Give sixty days for just one night.
Dont think Id make it: but then I might.
Im going back to the ones that I know,
With whom I can be what I want to be.
Just one week for the feeling to go --
And with you there to help me
Then it probably will.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hell Spiced
I 'use' to be in the fifth grade.
And I remember junior high.
I remember enlisting into the military.
And that was in nineteen sixty five.
I remember being a father...once!
And experiencing incredible emotional depth!
When I witnessed my son die...
Oh yes!
I remember doing marriage twice.
And knowing what I can and can not do,
After giving it a try.
I've replaced those *I Do's* with *Don'ts*.
Keeping any lieing to myself at a minimum.
And as I approach the age of sixty five,
Only God knows how blessed I feel.
With a gratefulness to be alive.
Although I am told I don't look a day over sixty.
And on my good days...
Fifty nine and a half with a smiling done I can pass.
And...
Each day when I make it my business to pray,
I know there could not have been any other way...
I could say I have survived.
Since God and I only know how it has been,
To experience such a hell spiced ride...
With the opening of my eyes,
Even wider.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At Sixty
At sixty, one will surely find
There is a very little trace
Of fleeting dreams in aging minds -
What's left is just some empty space.
At sixty, one finds excess time
For sadness and regrets,
For unshed tears were lost in years -
A place gray memories are set.
At sixty, there is little hope
To mend the pained and broken heart,
The failing sight now try to grope
At all the prospects that depart.
At sixty, prayers lost and said
Like ghosts now randomly returning -
Each night, as one there lays in bed
To God his peace he will be making.
'To man belong the plans of the heart,
But from the Lord comes the reply of the tongue.'
Proverbs 16: 1
................................ ................................................. .....................
Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
July 24,2009
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Younger Days
IM STILL YOUNG AT HEART
I PLAY THE PART
I FEEL SO GOOD, I FEEL SO GOOD
WHEN MADISON SQUARE GARDEN NO LONGER SCREAMS FOR ME
AND THE RECORD COMPAGNIE DONT SEND NO LIMOS FOR ME
AND THE YOUNG GIRLS THEY THINK THAT IM TOO OLD
REFREIN:
I KNOW I BE OKE WHEN I THINK OF THE YOUNG DAYS, THE YOUNG DAYS
WITH A MIKE AND A GUITAR I USED TO RACKET ON ANY STAGE, ANY STAGE
FROM THE HOOD TO THE SUBURBS IN THE THEATER NEAR YOU
THE BIG NEONLIGHTS WHENEVER WE CAME THROUGH
PEOPLE PUSHING THROUGH LIKE THEY DONT NO WHAT TO DO
BOUNCERS SCREAMING HE, HE, HE
AINT NO PUSHING TO THE BACK OF THE LINE
DONT YOU KNOW
EVERYBODYS BOUND TO GET IN
WAIT YOUR TURN
TICKETHOLDERS ARE FIRST ON THE LINE
BUT IT MADE ME FEEL SPECIAL WHEN
A HUNDERD GIRLS RUSHED THAT DOOR
AINT NO WHAT THE BOUNCERS SAY
THEY WENT TO THE CLUB SCREAMING TOM
IT MADE ME FEEL SPECIAL WHEN THE SAY
DJ PLAY THIS REQUEST
ALLRIGHT
THINKING OF MY YOUNGER ROWDY DAYS
I KNOW MY PEOPLE SAY
COME RUSH THE DOOR WE GONNA BOMBRUSH THE DOOR (3*) HE, HE ,HE
COME RUSH THE DOOR WE GONNA BOMBRUSH THE DOOR (3*) HE, HE, HE
WHEN I LOOK IN YOUR EYES THATS THE ONLY STARS I SEE
AND I GO THROUGH NEW YORK WITH NO SECURITY
AND ON THE BILLBOARDS IM NO LONGER NUMBER ONE
REFREIN:I KNOW I BE OKE WHEN I THINK OF THE YOUNG DAYS, THE YOUNG DAYS ETC
IT WAS YOUNG AND ROWDY
NOW IM OLD AND ROWDY
AS LONG AS I STAY ROWDY
NOTHING GONNA BE CLOUDY
REFREIN:
IT WAS GOOD IN SIXTY-FIVE
IT WAS GOOD IN SIXTY-SIX
IT WAS GOOD IN SIXTY-SEVEN
I FELT I WAS IN HEAVEN
IT STILL FEELS GOOD
AFTER ALL THESE YEARS
NOW WERE IN A
NEW MILLENIUM
I CAN DIG IT
I STILL DIG IT
I STILL DO IT
CAUSE I LOVE IT YES I DO-ac
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Twenty can't be expected to tolerate sixty in all things, and sixty gets bored stiff with twenty's eternal love affairs.
quote by Emily Carr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It is my boon.
I eat less; I sleep less.
Yet I am tireless.
It is my boon.
I lust for, at sixty,
Women sixteen to sixty.
It is my boon.
I have the woman
Half my age in flirtation.
It is my boon.
I send the woman
In her teen to orgasm.
It is my boon.
So I want no heaven
As I lived through heaven.
It is my boon.
21.07.2000, Paralakhemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Into The Sixth
As a sixty year old
I'm past caring
that I be bold
or that I'm
a sixty year old.
poem by Vince Gullaci
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Feel Free
Down by the motion
Down by the girl
Down into let go of me
I don't ever hurt
We shadow down
We shadow down
By the water land
Baby don't move it
Don't knock me in the tide
I'm like the sun and
You're like the sand
Don't knock me down
Don't knock me
I feel free
And i...i feel free
And i...feel free
(sixty nine)
(sixty nine...)
She's a'calling me
Down want to water
I like a court you you understand it
I under war
A whispering shadow
Don't tell me that
I live a going
I am the storm
To all that was is kicking me
Ever take me down
Take me down tonight
Take me down town
And i...feel free
Well i...feel free
And if a chance
Don't take no choice
Another time
(sixty nine)
I feel free
I feel free such a lie
And i feel walking in the sun
And i feel running with you one
And i feel nothing in the, nothing in
I feel nothing in your time
I feel haunted in your life
I feel talking in your
Walking back in you, baby
Nothing in your touch
Live within your blood
Take me, i'm walking, waking
Hoping, waiting in the sun beats
In your heart
And babe it gives me
I...i feel free
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Washerwife
The aged Queen who passed away
Had sixty servants, so they say;
Twice sixty hands her shoes to tie:
Two soapy ones have I.
The old Queen had of beds a score;
A cot have I and ask no more.
For when the last is said and done
One can but die in one.
The old Queen rightly thought that she
Was better than the likes o' me;
And yet I'm glad despite her grace
I am not in her place.
The old Queen's gone and I am here,
To eat my tripe and drink my beer,
Athinkin' as I wash my clothes:
We must have monarchs, I suppose . . .
Well, well,--'Taint no skin off my nose!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Best Friend Danny
I met him in nineteen fifty-six
he was my best friend
him and I, was always in a fix
of our fights, we always did mend.
There was the time
we painted the fence
wanted to do the job, real fine
used a whole gallon of paint
it didn't make sense
my brother dave asked,
'What happened to all the paint'?
when we told him, 'We used it all, '
he laughed, I thought, he was going to faint,
thru the years, with that story,
we have really had a ball
Then there was the time
we tried to chop down the tree
my brother got mad, but the three was mine
oh, we were so care-free
I never forget the racoon,
that followed us home,
he seemed to like our radio
that was playing a tune
the racoon, seemed so a lone
I never forgot the indian head
pennies, he sold me,
he stole them, of crime he led,
he had taken them from his dad
I should have known, he sold them so cheap
to get them back, his father was glad
He always did something
to me that was real mean
to make up, a present he would bring
of our friendship, he would lean
He taught me how to smoke
this you say, you call a friend.
when I could have had a stroke,
but he always had money to lend
When I didn't have any friends at all,
Danny was always, by my side
and it sure made me feel tall
if any one picked on me, he would
beat their hide
Every one called him and I a clown,
each one laughed so hard
that it, really brought them down,
at poker, he could really hide a card
Every morning before school
we played poker, he cheated a lot
and with him, I wanted to fight a duel
but he told me 'I cheat not.'
Of the down town loop, we did ride
in nine-teen fifty-nine
our car through the streets, would glide
trying to find girls
that would be his or mine
In nine-teen sixty, my dog shep died,
it was very depressing and sad
him and I, all day we cried
it made me unhappy and a little mad
In nine-teen sixty-two
he joined the army
I tried to join, but didn't make it
those days were very stormy
after what he went through,
I didn't mind a bit
In nine-teen sixty-seven
the army let him go,
at home at last, I thought I was
in heaven
but I soon found out, it wasn't so
The army had changed him, in many ways
Danny was not the same anymore
as I looked back, at those good old days
when I always heard him, knock on the door
All he wanted to do now, is go drink
he could'nt sit still very long
and he was really starting to sink
he had seen action, against the Viet Cong
Next to him one night
a man's throat was slashed, a man who was kind
it wasn't good, or right
and what it must have done, to Danny's mind
Over the years, I saw him, until eighty-one
hav'nt seen him since
remember well, good times and all the fun
Danny where ever you are,
you are still my best friend
does that make sense.
How Many Seconds In A Minute?
How many seconds in a minute?
Sixty, and no more in it.
How many minutes in an hour?
Sixty for sun and shower.
How many hours in a day?
Twenty-four for work and play.
How many days in a week?
Seven both to hear and speak.
How many weeks in a month?
Four, as the swift moon runneth.
How many months in a year?
Twelve the almanack makes clear.
How many years in an age?
One hundred says the sage.
How many ages in time?
No one knows the rhyme.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!