The Fireman
They call me the fireman
Thats my name
Makin my rounds all over town
Puttin out old flames
Well everybodyd like to have what Ive got
I can cool em down while theyre smolderin hot
Im the fireman
Thats my name
Last night they had a bad one a mile or two down the road
Well my buddy walked out and left this woman burnin out of control
Well I was down there in bout an hour or so
With a little mouth to mouth she was ready to go
Im the fireman thats my name
They call me the fireman
Thats my name
Makin my rounds all over town puttin out all flames
Well everybodyd like to have what Ive got
I can cool em down while theyre smolderin hot
Im the fireman thats my name...burn em up
Ive got fire-engine red t-bird automobile
In a minute or less I can be dressed fit to kill
I work twenty-four on and twenty-four off
When they get too hot, they just give me a call
Im the fireman, thats my name
They call me the fireman, thats my name
Makin my rounds all over town puttin out old flames
Well everybodyd like to have what Ive got
I can cool em down while theyre smolderin hot
Im the fireman, thats my name
They call me the fireman
Thats my name.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
When i am stressed out, i just stay silent
it feels like i am overdone
not half-baked, i am more of overcooked
and even charred
the smell of burnt-out paper pervades the room
and the kitchen
yells
fire!
then i think i see the whole house burning
all the neighbors shouting
call the fireman! call the fireman!
some got pails of water, others simply stand and wait
not wishing to join the crowd
and be immersed in the mess
like me, i am feeling stressed out, and i just say silent
and let everything burn
just watching
how fire consumes everything
exhausting
the sight of destruction
and then
i touch the remains of the dead
even taste it
and say, well this is it, and this happens all the time
why hurry why worry
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Hero
Like behemoths sunning themselves.
The shiny fire engines
sat before the cavelike doors
that led to their den.
As if pampering the giant beasts.
Firefighters wipe and polish
shining the apparatus.
Awaiting a frantic call for help.
In wide eyed wonder
maybe somewhat apprehensive.
She approached the engine house
clearly in distress.
Watching a crocodile tear
find its way down a rosy cheek.
With a smile the fireman asked.
“Hi can I help you? ”
“It’s Melissa she’s broken.”
She held out a tiny bundle.
To heal a broken friend
Would mend a broken heart.
The fireman with his smile
took the blanket wrapped doll.
With his life saving tools
made Melissa well again.
Handing the well Melissa
to her young guardian.
Her tears disappeared
A smile a hug of thanks.
Now happily on her way
brought a tingle in the heart
of the fireman.
Whose kindness made her day.
(15JUN99)
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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C'mon Baby Light My Fire
Jeffrey Boyle was a real fireman.
I wish to it clear to you that you would understand;
Jeffrey was a fireman when he off duty being a fireman.
Jeffery, a 25 year-old veteran of Chicago's Fire Department, was an arsonist.
A fireman who starts fires, now that's twist.
Jeffrey was sentenced to six years in prison for starting eight fires.
His pension from the Fire Department had been revoked,
His retirement he planned was not acquired.
Boyle argued that because he set the fires while he was off duty from his job as a firefighter,
-and he did not use department equipment to set them,
-he was legally entitled to receive his $50,000-a-year pension.
But there was more tension,
A judge ruled in his favor.
Judge Leroy Martin said in his ruling,
'There must be a clear and specific connection between the felony committed and the participant's employment. It's unsettling, nay, repugnant that Mr. Boyle should stand poised to collect a pension, but the court is duty bound to apply the law.'
And that was that, that was all.
Am I slow or stupid or what?
I just don't get it.
11/12/09
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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Mean Old Fireman
Written by (traditional).
I went down to the station
I leaned up against the door
Yeah, I went down to the station
I leaned up against the door
I said good-bye to my sweet, ride on
I said now, she couldnt use me no more
It was a mean old fireman
And a cruel old engineer
He was a mean old fireman
And a cruel old engineer
Yes, takin way my sweet woman
And left me standing here
Break:
I used to roll my baby
Till she - was forced to jump and shout
I used to roll my sweet baby
Till she was forced to jump and shout
Now that train pulls in boys
And Ill come walkin out
I heard the fireman blow the whistle
And the engineer ring the bell
I heard the fireman blow the whistle
And engineer ring the bell
I knew it was time boys
To - bid my baby farewell
Um
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fireman
When fire sits on top of the head
Smoke can hardly enter the nostrils
Feet walking on coals
And fire bugs bite
The fireman loves
He puts on the axe in hand
Better than class rings
Even other rings
Fires burn when they do a job
How the man can burn without
Restriction can burn a man about
Head to toe
The soul is made pure by fire
Man loves to burn
It is even his desire
Afterwards he must
Needs be tended to
If not
The fire has yet a job to do
To burn a man through and through
If so
Hold him dear
In the fire he bore many tears
In this fashion
He lives all his years
What is fire?
It's much like Our Father
Or yet
He be the fireman
And we on fire
poem by Deci Hernandez
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Give It To Me Strait
(reese wilson/stephen grauberger)
(track 2 - time 2:46)
Bartender I may sit here on this barstool all night long
But I wont need much attention
I just need some time alone
So if youll give me some quarters and a bottle of your best
You can just sit back and let the jukebox do the rest
Give it to me strait
Sing am I blue while I sit here and cry
And tell me how my babys gotten so good at goodbye
Its gonna take a fireman to put this old flame out
So come on give it to me strait
Before I come unwound
Lets start off nice and easy
Something like if I know me
And well work our way up slowly to fool hearted memory
Yeah Ive got all night long to sit right here and fall apart
So dont leave out one single song
I know em all by broken heart
Give it to me strait
Sing am I blue
While I sit here and cry
And tell me how my babys gotten so good at goodbye
Its gonna take a fireman to put this old flame out
So come on give it to me strait
Before I come unwound
There aint one country singer
That aint good for a bad heartache
And for me theres nothing smoother
Than a good stiff shot of strait
Its gonna take a fireman to put this old flame out
So come on give it to me strait
Before I come unwound
So come on give it to me strait
Before I come unwound
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evening In A Sugar Orchard
From where I lingered in a lull in march
outside the sugar-house one night for choice,
I called the fireman with a careful voice
And bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch:
'O fireman, give the fire another stoke,
And send more sparks up chimney with the smoke.'
I thought a few might tangle, as they did,
Among bare maple boughs, and in the rare
Hill atmosphere not cease to glow,
And so be added to the moon up there.
The moon, though slight, was moon enough to show
On every tree a bucket with a lid,
And on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow.
The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
They were content to figure in the trees
As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
And that was what the boughs were full of soon.
poem by Robert Frost
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Ideas are something that usually comes like fireman- too late.
Death Of Lust
you're dead now rotting
in my bed
and i am left alone
cleansing myself
of desire
i am still burning from
my hair to my toes
and there is no
fireman coming
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I never met anybody in my life who says, I want to be a critic. People want to be a fireman, poet, novelist.
quote by Leslie Fiedler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I decided I would go to Chicago and try my luck as a writer after those eight months as a fireman.
quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A New Found Relative In Facebook
if your wish is just to live in peace
or even just to be alive
then you are just like anybody else
in that old abandoned town
where the only sound that you can hear
is the sound of the bell
of the church announcing another
death.
tell me something more: what do you really want to be in the future?
do not tell me that you will just be a vendor,
or an ambulant worker,
just like your papa, or a shoeshine boy like your grandpa
when he was young,
you know, one must have a dream
call it an ambition to have hope
dreams are free, you do not need to pay
that is our freedom
do not deny yourself that
you can be a lawyer, a doctor, a fireman
an engineer,
or even just be a lover,
a man,
do not just exist, or live, think some more
there is more to life
than just sitting down, waiting, and all too boring...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Front Line
I am a fireman here at home
And I put my life on the front line everyday
To save the people from burning buildings
Or from car accidents
Someday I am very lucky because I am able to save people from burning
Buildings and car accidents
But other days I am not so lucky because it depends where the fire is on The building
Sometimes I have to climb all the way to the top of the buildings
Very fast to save the people from the burning buildings here at home
Other times the fire on the buildings happened on the lower floor
Yes there had been times that I could not save the people from the
Buildings here at home because the buildings here at home had been Engulfed with smoke and all the people that live there died
Yes that was a very bad scene to see
At the end of the night I go home for my kids and my wife
When I arrive home my kids and my wife are already sleeping in bed
I don't have very much time to spend with my children
Because of my work
I don't enjoy being a fireman but the pay is good
So I don't have anything to complain about
I never talk about my work at home
At home I talk about different things to my wife and kids
But I know that my day starts very early everyday
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I've had tons of odd jobs, but I think that I would probably be a fireman because you get to see the results of your job. You get there and there is a house on fire. You leave and there's not a fire anymore.
quote by Luke Perry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kids are always asked, What are you going to be when you grow up? I needed an answer. So instead of saying, a fireman, or a policeman, I said, a reporter.
quote by Charles Kuralt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fireman's Life
Tom and Jerry cartoon (the human versions, not the cat and mouse); may also be titled "Hook & Ladder Hokum"
from A Fireman's Life (1933)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are Many
Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.
When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep concealed on my person
takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.
On other occasions, I am dozing in the midst
of people of some distinction,
and when I summon my courageous self,
a coward completely unknown to me
swaddles my poor skeleton
in a thousand tiny reservations.
When a stately home bursts into flames,
instead of the fireman I summon,
an arsonist bursts on the scene,
and he is I. There is nothing I can do.
What must I do to distinguish myself?
How can I put myself together?
All the books I read
lionize dazzling hero figures,
brimming with self-assurance.
I die with envy of them;
and, in films where bullets fly on the wind,
I am left in envy of the cowboys,
left admiring even the horses.
But when I call upon my DASHING BEING,
out comes the same OLD LAZY SELF,
and so I never know just WHO I AM,
nor how many I am, nor WHO WE WILL BE BEING.
I would like to be able to touch a bell
and call up my real self, the truly me,
because if I really need my proper self,
I must not allow myself to disappear.
While I am writing, I am far away;
and when I come back, I have already left.
I should like to see if the same thing happens
to other people as it does to me,
to see if as many people are as I am,
and if they seem the same way to themselves.
When this problem has been thoroughly explored,
I am going to school myself so well in things
that, when I try to explain my problems,
I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Inspired By A Radio Story
Monarch butterflies were flitting above the smoke
And one of the New York firemen dousing the still smouldering ashes spoke
Saying those are the souls of the many who died here
On silent wings to heaven's gate they near.
The souls of those who died on that September day
Towards a better World now slowly wing their way
Of all sufferings and troubles now quite free
For to re-live in love and joy and harmony.
The smoke from the smouldering ashes their souls did release
And they now can live forever more in peace
In that paradise somewhere beyond the skies
The fireman wiped the teardrops from his eyes.
On September the eleventh New York's blackest day
When tragedy came to the U.S.A.
The great Twin Towers by aerial terrorists destroyed
And the souls still live of all of those who died.
Butterflies flew towards the sunlight above the clouds of smoke
And his comrades listened as the fireman spoke
And said those are the souls of the people who died here
On silent wings towards heaven's gate they near.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Steam-train to the stars
there would be no count-down
or blast-off
no excessive speed
just a gradual accelaration
no need for cumbersome attire
a blazer or a sweater would suffice
they're off
roof-top height
then the clouds
or is it steam
or smoke
or fire
no it's the setting sun
and then the parachutes
we counted three
the engine-driver
the fireman
and the guard
someone observed
jokingly
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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