Do The Clam
(words & music by wayne - weisman - fuller)
Hey everybody gather round
Listen to that bongo sound
Grab the first one in your reach
Now were going to shake the beach
Do the clam, do the clam
Grab your barefoot baby by the hand
Turn and tease, hug and squeeze
Dig right in and do the clam
You can get your heart to spin
On the outside looking in
Moon aint gonna last all night
Well lets work up an appetite
Do the clam, do the clam
Grab your barefoot baby by the hand
Turn and tease, hug and squeeze
Dig right in and do the clam
Everybodys got that beat
Well listen to those happy feet
Aint you glad that you found out
What the clam is all about
Do the clam, do the clam
Grab your barefoot baby by the hand
Turn and tease, hug and squeeze
Dig right in and do the clam
Do the clam, do the clam
Grab your barefoot baby by the hand
Turn and tease, hug and squeeze
Dig right in and do the clam
Dig right in and do the clam
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Oh Sailor Sails To The Shore!
When the sea is clam
Moon light shines thee
Sit and think what life desire
When the sea is clam
Oh sailor imagine what
you doing to your life thee
And in others life thee
When the sea is clam
Sit in the moonlight
Ask yourself are you true
With life that God grant
Loyal to your inner spirit
When the sea is clam
Oh sailor think if you
Are in love with thee
And all words desires
With honestly and faith
When the sea is clam
Look at above the sky
Declare to god I am true
My love is pure thee
I truly fall for this woman
I send email across thee
Clam Sea in silent night thee
When the sea is clam
Thou' wave you may not see
But silent nights ask thee
Are you certainty in love?
And sending this email
With your love connect thee
When the sea is clam
Oh sailor sails to the shore
Where aspiration thee
Take her in your arms
Thus ``I love you ``
Let's sail together thee
Legend enlighten our love
Everlastingly in this clam sea
poem by Ezna Stephna
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There is only one thing harder than looking for a dewdrop in the dew, and that is fishing for a clam in the clam chowder.
A Pebble In My Shoe
a pebble in my shoe
i want it removed
a pebble in my shoe
a disturbance
in my mind
a pebble in my shoe
an enemy
in my feet
yet wait
let me recall
a grain of sand
inside the clam
a pearl
in my hand
once a pebble
in my shoe
let me walk again
let me remember
the pearl
in the clam
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Clams Have Feelings Too
Birds are dumb, 'cause small bird brains
But so are kids and old people
Some birds talk, most others sing
I don't see you eat a talking bird
Pigs smell bad, they roll in poo
But so do kids and elderly
I don't see you chop off an old man's feet
Put 'em in a mason jar and pickle them
No chowder for you, 'cause clams have feelings too
Actually they don't have central nervousness
No manhatten style, clams have the right to smile
Come to think about it, they don't have a face
They have no face, no place for ears
There's no clam eyes, to cry clam tears
No spinal cord, they must get bored
Might as well just put them out of misery
I don't beleive it's selfish
To eat defenceless shellfish
No chowder for you, clams have feelings too
It could happen to you, clams have feelings too
I don't think they do, clams have feelings too
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A fish
He said 'there are plenty of fish in the sea.
All you have to do is go swimming to see.'
True, it would be easy to accomplish this.
But catching a fish... is not what I wish.
What fun would that be, to fish.
I need something better then that...A fish.
'Ha! , You fool that does not exist.'
My friend sometimes you should open your eyes.
Because catching everything that swims by, is not always the prize.
What if I told you to dig deep instead.
'Then I would say there is something wrong with your head.'
Perhaps you would be right, I'm sure it would be a tougher fight.
Digging hole after hole for something that is not in sight.
But what if I stumbled across a clam at the bottom of this sea.
So shiny...So bright it made all the other fish a terrible site.
And my friend whats even better then that.
Inside this clam is something to ewww and awww at.
A pearl inside of it so perfect you would be amazed.
That you would be able to do nothing but sit and gaze.
Would that be worth something to keep.
'I'm sure it would, but you have to dig so deep'
Well that's better then catching just a pretty fish, at least that's what I wish.
poem by Christopher Litten
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The Strangest Creature On Earth
You're like a scorpion, my brother,
you live in cowardly darkness
like a scorpion.
You're like a sparrow, my brother,
always in a sparrow's flutter.
You're like a clam, my brother,
closed like a clam, content,
And you're frightening, my brother,
like the mouth of an extinct volcano.
Not one,
not five--
unfortunately, you number millions.
You're like a sheep, my brother:
when the cloaked drover raises his stick,
you quickly join the flock
and run, almost proudly, to the slaughterhouse.
I mean you're strangest creature on earth--
even stranger than the fish
that couldn't see the ocean for the water.
And the oppression in this world
is thanks to you.
And if we're hungry, tired, covered with blood,
and still being crushed like grapes for our wine,
the fault is yours--
I can hardly bring myself to say it,
but most of the fault, my dear brother, is yours.
Trans. by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Muscoviet Musquito
I must write a letter to you
I must make myself clear
It is spot on time, right on cue
I am a clam, somebody said to me
Its obscene, there must be a motive behind
Its obscure. there must be someone behind
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A vivid image anyway
Someone said, youre a clam,
Consider this !
Mmm, listen oh, listen to me, youre far
A thousand miles away from here
I am here, I am here in this ooze through country
Trampled down by mega people
A dispute will never end
A retrospection ,it sounds obscene
A disconnection,
A final balance sheet for muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito, it sound obscene
It sound so obscure, for muscovite mosquito
My final balance sheet is gone...... for
Muscovite mosquito, muscovite mosquito
Its spot on time, right on cue
You missed the chance, somebody vexedly said
Its obscene, there must be motives behind
Its obscure, there must be someone behind
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As a snipe and a clam are entangled in a fight, a fisherman catch them both.
Peculiar Questions
What would
A Raven
Look like
If it
Was Shaven?
What would a
Flamingo
Look like
If it
Played Bingo?
What would
A Lamb
Look like
If it was shaped like
A Clam?
poem by M.L. Squier
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Happy Is Good
There’s a place this man can
Be as happy as a clam
And he squeezes you so hard that
He finds pearls in his hat
Where his hair should probably be
But he since changed back to a baby
And now he’s cooing in your arms
And working all his many charms
And hoping they’ll be just enough
To keep this happy from getting tough
Because happy is Mmmm,
Is Mmmmm, is good
You should
Be happy
Too!
poem by John W. McEwers
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Poem about Poetry - the poet is a clam
a sea of comparisons for the poet
well, if i were to describe his role
he is a clam
and the pearl is the heart of his art!
the more lustrious it is
the more he has taken in the world
and digested it for us!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Once you work with a studio on a film, the studio is sort of like this enormous clam that just opens, takes everything and then closes, and no one enters again. They own it all.
Eternal Yearning
I'll take a trip.
I know not where?
But any place
where I've no care
is better than where I am.
I'll search for you
until I see
that where you are
is the place for me.
For I feel that I'll be damned
to never feel
your lips on mine
or taste of pleasure
like sweet wine.
I would dry up like a clam
that's left on the beach
under the sun
where I can't hide
or ever run
to find I'm the sacrificial lamb.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Friend In Chicago Is In Relationship
on a cold winter
a friend in Chicago finally
opens up like
a clam and grabs
a sand that pricks
his tongue
so he can make a
pearl
this Christmas
i ask two questions
which i think are
intrusions to his
privacy
honestly, i am not
interested
he's happy and it is
enough to know
that
what i realize is that
he is happy and he is
no longer interested
about what i ask
or what i say
i quit.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Open Your Heart Oh Lord
Open your heart
To me oh Lord
So I may find peace
In my life
For you have the power
To clam the rageing seas
Stiffle the howling winds
Set the stars in the sky
Oh Lord won't you take
This anger that's inside of me
So I may feel your love again
Making me whole
One with you Lord
For without your grace
I am nothing once again
poem by David Kush
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A deadly hit
She failed to make it
It did hurt and deadly hit
I knew she will come
I was ready to welcome
It was her desire
She wanted something to acquire
It was not at all expected
She had high regards and respected
I wanted her not to weep
Consoled her all the time to keep
Clam posture with no concern
It can be any body’s turn
I heard her woes and felt sorry
She was passing time with great worry
She had all the way kept thinking
Unfortunately she was out for sinking
What was I expected to do?
Alley the fears and attempt to woo
One should always stand by in crisis
This should be words of promises
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Him And Her....
he tried to understand
what his hands are
she didn't, she had no
expertise on those hands
closed like a living clam
under the sea
to the bottom below the
sand
she could not see his
flesh
he did not see her face
the story is rabid like a dog
after the bite
death is sure
feared is light
and the cell closes on in him
she was gone
like a glimmer
of the sun
dawn to the deeper part
of the forest
breathlessly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A perfect Pearl
my run away desire
the devil asks me
to go out, to have fun
and above all - eat
this when i am
not at all hungry
in fact bloated
another day of routine
it is too early
for me
sometimes
noon is too early
for food
it is another day
the devil is drivng
at me with his
sharpened chisels
'no no no
i would rather be
in the clam
enamoured
in quiet
contemplation
in the realm
of God if that
is not too mushy
for your ears.'
i tell the devil
'every of my
prayers, ' i add
'the becomes
a layer of
luminous
rainbow lucre
to seize the day'
how nice it will
be, to be
a perfect pearl
rolling around
someone's heart
listening to her
secret wishes
and help layer
her dream
and goals
with perfect
poise, grace
and confidence
round the clock!
rewritten from
my run away desire
the devil asks me
to go out, to have fun
and above all - eat
this when i am
not at all hungry
in fact bloated
another day of routine
it is too early
for me
sometimes
noon is too early
for food
it is another day
the devil is drivng
at me with his
sharpened chisels
'no no no
i would rather be
in the clam
enamoured
in quiet
contemplation
in the realm
of God if that
is not too mushy
for your ears.'
i tell the devil
'every of my
prayers, ' i add
'is a layer of
luminous
rainbow lucre
to seize the day'
how nice it will
be to be a
perfect pearl
rolling and
dangling round
someone's heart
and be a perfect
companion of graces
round the clock!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Ballad For Helen Keller
How can I know what I can't see?
It's never been a part of me.
How can I know what I can't hear?
It's never been within my ear.
How can I know what I can't say?
It's never been my way to pray.
For all is darkness where I am.
And all is soundless where I am.
All is speechless like a clam.
But touching is a joy to me,
feeling all that I cannot see.
I feel the sounds my heart does beat.
And tastes on my tongue so sweet.
It's how my world began
until an angel came my way
and helped to lift a ban.
And now it matters not to me
what I can't say or hear or see.
The angel helped me find my way
to face another brand new day
and finally want to live.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Coda
There's little in taking or giving,
There's little in water or wine;
This living, this living, this living
Was never a project of mine.
Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is
The gain of the one at the top,
For art is a form of catharsis,
And love is a permanent flop,
And work is the province of cattle,
And rest's for a clam in a shell,
So I'm thinking of throwing the battle-
Would you kindly direct me to hell?
poem by Dorothy Parker
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