I've Lived My Life
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
I left the country for the city thought I was smart but I was silly
I should have known I'd get in trouble being so green
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
I met a boy and learned to love him I would have done anything for him
I've loved him more than anything I've ever seen
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
Only eighteen but it's all over I ruined my life to please my lover
I made him happy he made me cry then said goodbye
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
Only eighteen but it's all over...
I've lived my life and I'm only eighteen
song performed by by Dolly Parton

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Related quotes
Eighteen
Eighteen
Alice Cooper
(Bruce, Cooper, Dunaway, Smith, Buxton)
Lines form on my face and hands
Lines form from the ups and downs
I'm in the middle without any plans
I'm a boy and I'm a man
I'm eighteen
and I don't know what I want
Eighteen
I just don't know what I want
Eighteen
I gotta get away
I gotta get out of this place
I'll go runnin in outer space
Oh yeah
I got a
baby's brain and an old man's heart
Took eighteen years to get this far
Don't always know what I'm talkin' about
Feels like I'm livin in the middle of doubt
Cause I'm
Eighteen
I get confused every day
Eighteen
I just don't know what to say
Eighteen
I gotta get away
Lines form on my face and my hands
Lines form on the left and right
I'm in the middle
the middle of life
I'm a boy and I'm a man
I'm eighteen and I LIKE IT
Yes I like it
Oh I like it
Love it
Like it
Love it
Eighteen!
Eighteen!
Eighteen!
Eighteen and I LIKE IT
song performed by by Alice Cooper

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I'm Eighteen
Lines form on my face and hands
Lines form from the ups and downs
I'm in the middle without any plans
I'm a boy and I'm a man
I'm eighteen
and I don't know what I want
Eighteen
I just don't know what I want
Eighteen
I gotta get away
I gotta get out of this place
I'll go runnin in outer space
Oh yeah
I got a
baby's brain and an old man's heart
Took eighteen years to get this far
Don't always know what I'm talkin' about
Feels like I'm livin in the middle of doubt
Cause I'm
Eighteen
I get confused every day
Eighteen
I just don't know what to say
Eighteen
I gotta get away
Lines form on my face and my hands
Lines form on the left and right
I'm in the middle
the middle of life
I'm a boy and I'm a man
I'm eighteen and I LIKE IT
Yes I like it
Oh I like it
Love it
Like it
Love it
Eighteen!
Eighteen!
Eighteen!
Eighteen and I LIKE IT
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Essentials

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Almost Eighteen
Roy orbison
Almost eighteen a lot of sugar and lace
Almost eighteen with an angel face
She says Im her kind of guy
And if I leave her shell die uh uh
Ill flip upside down and all the way around
Im acting like a clown because I think Ive found
The cream of the crop, I know Ill never stop
Full skirt, dont flirt, ballerina shoes
Pin slips, two lips that never sing the blues
Almost eighteen, a ribbon in her hair
Almost eighteen, my babys young and fair
0h-oh, Ill never let her go
Because, oh I love her so, oh-oh
Shes gonna have her birthday then well run away
Were gonna find a preacher, let him be the teacher
Gonna honeymoon all through the month of june
Darlin well have time until were ninety nine, yeah yeah
Wedding bells gonna ring, were gonna be together
I love her, she loves me, our lovell live forever
Almost eighteen, shes a swingin queen
Almost eighteen, oh what a lovely dream
Until the end of time
My babys mine, all mine, uh-uh
Almost eighteen
Almost eighteen
Almost eighteen
Almost eighteen
song performed by by Roy Orbison

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18 Square Miles
The place is only eighteen square miles.
And is the home of over four thousand gang members.
Some segments of it,
Look as if negligence is tolerated.
And decadence celebrated.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
And sits in a state that use to brag about its affluence.
Clearly with ignorance to salivate.
As disrespect for others is shown...
And lack of discipline and illiteracy,
Considered top rate and obviously condoned.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
With hidden pockets of poverty.
Neighborhoods are divided,
Into sections like an apartheid.
With those who control this...
Absent of vision and intelligence free.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
With racism practiced as a way of life.
And those who inflict their bigotry,
See themselves in a self righteous light.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
And the affects of hunger and homelessness,
Is as protected as the theft that goes on.
The place is only eighteen square miles,
Of illogical standards valued.
Eighteen square miles,
Of blinded physical and mental abuse!
Reflecting a nation,
Unraveling from the inside.
And using those victimized as an excuse.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I mean, Eighteen years old is the age of consent in Europe and you can go anywhere and do anything you like. In America, it is dumb. At eighteen you should be able to do anything that you like, except get married.
quote by John Entwistle

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Eighteen
Eighteen is still a teen,
Nineteen is the threshold,
If truth be told,
Eighteen is the between,
Teenager and womanhood,
One more step, Adulthood.
Dont Push Me Around
(myles goodwyn)
Published by slalom publishing co. - bmi
Well you can call me a punk, I like to scrap when Im drunk
And Im just likely to cause a scene
I got an old cadillac, I like to sit in the back
And flog the dog between the covers of sex-teen
Hey man, I said now dont push me around
Hey man, Im eighteen and Ive been around
Im gonna buy me some wine, Im gonna have a good time
And dont you tell me what I shouldnt do
Cause you just dont understand, Im not a boy, Im a man
But you dont wanna hear from nothin, now do you
Hey man, I said now dont push me around
Hey man, Im eighteen and Ive been around
Well you can tell me Im right, and you can tell me Im wrong
But I dont really care what you say
Im gonna drive into town with the top rolled down
And find me someone whos been feelin the same way
Been pushed around, Ive been taken by clowns
Theyre makin millions just for fun, what a bad break
And whos to know if the show was a show
With his picture on the cover of newsweek
Now hey man, I said dont push me around
Hey man, Im eighteen and Ive been around
Hey man, I said now dont push me around
Hey man, Im eighteen and Ive been around
song performed by by April Wine

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Roll On
(chorus)
Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till you get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)
Its monday morning, hes kissin momma goodbye
Hes up and gone with the sun
Daddy drives an eighteen-wheeler
And hes off on a midwest run
As three sad faces gather round momma
They ask her when daddys comin home
Daddy drives an eighteen-wheeler
And they sure miss him when hes gone (yeah they do)
Ah, but he calls them everynight and he tells them that he loves them
And he taught them this song to sing
(chorus)
Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till ya get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)
Its wednesday evening, mommas waitin by the phone
It rings but its not his voice
Seems the highway patrol has found a jacknifed rig
In a snow bank in illinois
But the driver was missin and the search had been abandoned
For the weather had everything strong
And they had checked all the houses and local motels
When they had somemore news theyd call
And she told them when they found him to tell him that she loved him
And she hung up the phone singin
(chorus)
Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till ya get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on
Momma and the children will be waiting up all night long
Thinkin nothing but the words just comin
With the ringin of the telephone
Oh, but the man upstairs was listening
When momma asked him to bring daddy home
And when the call came in it was daddy on the other end
Askin her if she had been singin the song, singin
(chorus)
Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till ya get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler
(chorus)
Roll on highway, roll on along
Roll on daddy till ya get back home
Roll on family, roll on crew
Roll on momma like I asked you to do
And roll on eighteen-wheeler roll on (roll on)
Eighteen-wheeler
Eighteen-wheeler
Eighteen-wheeler
Eighteen-wheeler
Roll on
Roll on
song performed by by Alabama

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In a Dream
at fifty I approach myself,
eighteen years of age,
seated despondently on the concrete steps
of my father's house,
wishing to be gone from there
into my own life,
and I tell my young self,
Nothing will turn out right,
you'll want to avenge yourself,
on those close to you especially,
and they will want to die
of shock and grief. You will fall
to pleading and tears of self-pity,
filled with yourself, a passionate stranger.
My eighteen-year-old self stands up
from the concrete steps and says,
Go to hell,
and I walk off.
poem by David Ignatow

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In 1938, when I had decided that the only way to see the country was in a trailer, and I built the trailer which I still have and lived in it for eighteen months, and learned America from San Diego to the Canadian border, from Miami to New Jersey, and east to west in between.
quote by Leslie Charteris

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18 Till Die
Glistening, dreaming eyes
lived today, hoped for future;
heart: full of winning spirit,
courage, craze and adventures.
Watching movies and sports,
listening music, eating fast food,
traveling, meeting to friends;
dancing at verge of adulthood.
Without fear of the criticism
can accept bigger challenges;
Filled with energy and enthusiasm
this is age of the cutting edge.
At my eighteen she met first,
our eyes aligned together;
Shot camera first time on her
and captured image for ever.
Yearning to retain this age till I die
but no one can stop the aging.
Though memories will stay till end
of that golden year of eighteen.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
sdtiwari1(@) gmail(.) com
poem by S.D. Tiwari

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3f
even if she flies away
inside that plane for
eighteen hours, the memory
of his love
still lingers like it is a woman
inside a plane for eighteen
hours and arriving on
that land of coldness he
still lingers like a scar on
her cheek
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Debut
Eighteen roses
with manifold thorns
floridly swaying with
the flummox of motes
and then there was
a single carnation
unabashedly uncurling
and prying behind
the reticent curtains
of my endless nights
Eighteen candles
with mouthful of garish lights
devouring moths
with ludicrous invitations
and then there was
a lone chandelier
flickering many orbs
to a consummate glow
to deluge the dark and unfurl
these clandestine volitions
Eighteen treasures -
flamboyance gilded by
dilettante architectures
profligate the leisure
and pillage the quintessence
and then there was
a lissome string
unfettered from the poisons
of mediocre demarcations
unlatch the vault and reveal
your struggles, your lights, your shadows
Eighteen years
of an eternal waltz caroming
the clean lines of living
bemuse the fastidious poetry
and outgrow your limitations
and then there was
a single descrying of time
when your roses shall blossom,
your candles shall hone visions,
your treasures shall encompass grandiosity;
now, titillate your shy unreality.
poem by Norman Santos

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Poor Paddy
[the pogues version]
-----------------------------------------
In eighteen hundred and forty-one
The corduroy breeches I put on
Me corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-two
From hartlepool I moved to crewe
Found myself a job to do
A working on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I broke the shovel across me knee
I went to work for the company
On the leeds to selby railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on the liverpool shore
My belly was empty me hands were raw
With working on the railway, the railway
Im sick to my guts of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When daniel oconnell he was alive
When daniel oconnell he was alive
And working on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I changed my trade to carrying bricks
I changed my trade to carrying bricks
To work upon the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor paddy was thinking of going to heaven
The old bugger was thinking of going to heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im sick to my death of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling switches
Dodging pitches, as I was
Working on the railway
[paddy works on the railway]
---------------------------------------
In eighteen hundred and forty-one
My corduroy breeches I put on
My corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-two
I didnt know what I should do
I didnt know what I should do
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I sailed away across the sea
I sailed away across the sea
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on columbias shore
I landed on columbias shore
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When daniel oconnell he was alive
When daniel oconnell he was alive
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I made my trade to carrying bricks
I made my trade to carrying bricks
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor paddy was thinking of going to heaven
Poor paddy was thinking of going to heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-eight
I learned to drink my whiskey straight
I learned to drink my whiskey straight
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor paddy works on the railway
song performed by by Pogues

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From birth to age eighteen, a girl needs good parents.
From eighteen to thirty-five, she needs good looks.
From thirty-five to fifty-five, she needs a good personality.
From fifty-five on, she needs good cash.
quote by Sophie Tucker

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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

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Number Eighteen
She, s real tough and lean
her number is eighteen
when it comes to soccer
she, s no talker
its in her soul
to make another goal
when she, s on the field
she plays hard and doesnt yield
it was such joy
to see her take the ball from a big boy
when she kicked the ball
it soared past them all
without pause or toll
it went into the goal
she, s a little beauty queen
but on the field she, s real mean
she, s my little number eighteen
poem by Ernest Clary

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Mother Sky
Oh great mother of the sky
Hear your children’s cries
They have been taken away
By non tribal hands
To a place far from your eyes
Taken off of federal land
Your children now cry for you
Eighteen of your children missing
Their spirits grow weak
Has they are together trying to reach you
Wishing to be back home
Under your watchful eyes
Oh great mother of the sky
Hear your people’s cries
We wish to have our family
And our friends back home
Investigations continues for your children
The eighteen that are missing
Photograph taken of the site
Now are missing as well
Eighteen children missing
From our holy cemetery
Help us find your missing children
Whose tribe looks endlessly for them
We want them back home
Here in Kingman Arizona
Home of the Hualpai tribe
poem by Davina Vanessa Rivas

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William Upson
Air -- "The Major's Only Son"
Come all good people, far and near,
Oh, come and see what you can hear,
It's of a young man, true and brave,
Who is now sleeping in his grave.
Now, William Upson was his name --
If it's not that it's all the same --
He did enlist in the cruel strife,
And it caused him to lose his life.
He was Jesse Upson's eldest son,
His father loved his noble son;
This son was nineteen years of age,
In the rebellion he engaged.
His father said that he might go,
But his dear mother she said no.
"Stay at home, dear Billy," she said,
But oh, she could not turn his head.
For go he would, and go he did --
He would not do as his mother bid,
For he went away down South, there
Where he could not have his mother's care.
He went to Nashville, Tennessee,
There his kind friends he could not see;
He died among strangers, far away,
They knew not where his body lay.
He was taken sick and lived four weeks,
And oh, how his parents weep,
But now they must in sorrow mourn,
Billy has gone to his heaven home.
If his mother could have seen her son,
For she loved him, her darling one,
If she could heard his dying prayer,
It would ease her heart till she met him there.
It would relieved his mother's heart,
To have seen her son from this world depart,
And hear his noble words of love,
As he left this world for that above.
It will relieve his mother's heart,
That her son is laid in our grave yard;
Now she knows that his grave is near,
She will not shed so many tears.
She knows not that it was her son,
His coffin could not be opened --
It might be some one in his place,
For she could not see his noble face.
He enrolled in eighteen sixty-three,
The next day after Christmas eve;
He died in eighteen sixty-four,
Twenty-third of March, as I was told.
poem by Julia A Moore

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So Much Life Longing For More Life
SO MUCH LIFE LONGING FOR MORE LIFE
So much life longing for more life
Wanting to live so much
To feel to experience to know to enjoy to love.
So much life
Others have lived
So much life
I would have lived.
And the life I have lived?
More than I can know or understand
So much of it gone forever.
And all the longing and all the memories
And all the love,
Where is it now?
I have lived so much
And never lived enough
And want to live too much more
And know I will never live enough
And know I have lived so much much more
Than I will ever know again.
Life and more life,
Longing and more longing,
Life- Please God-
Not Death.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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