Sittin On My Sofa
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
You got all your friends,
I got a TV set.
You got your cars,
And this boy's never had anything.
Now I'm stuck here, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
You got all your friends,
I got a TV set.
You got your cars,
And this boy's never had anything.
Now I'm stuck here, sitting on my sofa,
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Oh...
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Sitting On My Sofa
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
You got all your friends,
I got a tv set.
You got your cars,
And this boys never had anything.
Now Im stuck here, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
You got all your friends,
I got a tv set.
You got your cars,
And this boys never had anything.
Now Im stuck here, sitting on my sofa,
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Oh...
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How I Wish You Were Here
how i wish you were here
i sit by my window and you
are just beside me and i become your
face tissue and you are some tears
or we could be something else
or could be that i am the microphone
of the videoke and you are the
song or could be otherwise
or i could be the sofa
and you are the guest sipping beer
or a coca-cola or could be that we
are all guests and we are all the singers
and the rest are the songs and the sofa
and the glasses and the wine
and the ham and bread
whatever, i only wish that you are here beside me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Shall Be No Blank Space Of This Jalousy
she broke a piece
of the window, a plank of glass
and the cat gets in at night
and sleeps on my favorite sofa
i never like this
i don't like a blank space where a cat slips in
and takes a portion of my sofa
this is strictly prohibited in my world
today the plank of glass is delivered
and there is no emptiness left along the lines of this
space
where the wind is free to
to get in and then move out like nothing happened
between the cat and the sofa.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you find your friend on the sofa at home with your wife, you had better sell the sofa.
The Red Sofa
The thick red sofa,
Anf of the laughter and joy that it brings in the name of love;
But this had been our place always,
And to warm ourselves from the cold of winter!
The thick red sofa,
This was our place of love and everything!
Both in the hot and the cold weathers to swing with the muse of love,
For this red sofa is all that we have in the room.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit Into The Fire
Burn a candle set a light
Keep on going against the stream
Be as mean as mean can be
As long as youre not to extreme
Read the papers watch the news
Be informed an get the blues
Collect your garbage use the subway
Swaying you stay on the roof
Search for solutions for the future
Find resources drill for oil
Raise some powerplants and then
Burry them under the soil
Rome is burning the emperor sings
Waiting for what time may bring
His body caressed by the virgins
Laughing shy he turns around
And spits into the fire
And hopes that he can calm it down
Fight the flames with words
Cause theyre cheaper than water
Thinking he can heal the world
But the only thing he really does
Is sitting on a sofa
And spit into the fire
Rabbits hopping on the green
And jump directly in your pan
Turtles transform into soup
Enjoy them as long as you can
Silent sitting writing songs
bout all the idiots that pretend
That their words can change the world
I think Im right but in the end
I spit into the fire
And hope that I can calm it down
Fight the flames with words
Cause theyre cheaper than water
Thinking I can heal the world
But the only thing I really do
Is sitting on a sofa
And spit into the fire
And spit into the fire
Spit into it
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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September Rain
September Rain (sonnet)
Most days, on my way to the bar or grocery shop,
I walk past an old man who sits in the shade of
an oak, on a creaky sofa that has lost its place in
the lounge. I usually stop and talk to him, he can’t
remember me from one day to the next, tells me
the same story about his parents, and where he
grew up; Portugal of yore. He isn’t here today, only
the mantle, he wraps around himself when there
is a chill in the air, is flung on the old sofa; a zephyr
whispers that he will not be back. “Will I be that old?
I ask the waning sun. I sit on a sofa on the terrace,
a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, scan the sky,
in the vale where I live and my parents too lived,
we wait for September rain.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daughter
and some other father at the club
says, has she flown the nest yet?
and it sounds so crude
you don’t want to answer.
You’re sitting on the sofa,
she’s behind you at the table,
she’s silent, you can feel her
growing up inside. You know
you mustn’t turn and look at her –
she’ll hate you for looking her dream
in the face.
Two years ago, she’d have come to sit
beside you on the sofa,
say nothing, put her head
on your shoulder.
Now, she’s in that between place, that place between.
In the between, she lives all the opposites. Simultaneously.
The world’s never been so exciting, all-possible,
or so scary, void; and these together;
she’s never felt so strong, or so vulnerable; both;
she knows she will be somebody; feels like nobody;
she’d like to have every boy, throw them away
to prove her power; yet wait to find if
there’s just the one; she wants both of these
(she, girl to goddess, Princess now a Queen,
she owns all men, yet gives herself to one) .
She’s living simultaneously in dreams
and chill realities.
You know all this,
and cannot, must not interfere.
This morning, you felt like the ideal family,
held in a golden glow of understanding.
Tonight, she’ll dress up for the boy and the dance, gloriously,
and you’ll be torn between fatherly pride
and the feeling that you’ve never, ever known her;
share that terrible place between
where there are only opposites.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bottom
Lift your head up from the clouds
I know that you're shaking
Breaking down
How could you leave me
Garbage can
Never want to be your understand
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me
Lord can you help me get this weight off my shoulders
Can you help me I think I'm getting older
The pain that you left me deep within
How can I live living in sin
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
Sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom
How many times I gotta say
That you're never ever gonna get your way
Down in the gutter as I decay
Where you gonna leave me
Let me be
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me understand
And you know that I've tried
Don't you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
[x2]
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me
[x2]
Sticks and stones breaking my bones
No your words aren't never gonna hurt me
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now i'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laying Bare And Lovely Still On A State Of Bliss
amidst the softness of the big
sofa
you lay your naked body
your breasts stare at the ceiling
your hair freely falling
on the arm
of that big sofa
you close your eyes on this
baring
you point your toe
to the carpeted floor
your arms are light
as your hands rest
on the furry cover
the silence is sweet and this
time the world is calm
no word creeps on your lips
come to think of it
what is the description
of this bliss?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flight of Fancy
Our sofa was a spaceship.
We soared between the stars
Visiting distant planets
Like Jupiter and Mars.
My brother and I were astronauts
Dad was Chief Engineer
He'd power up the engines
Then through the heavens we'd steer.
We followed a passing comet,
Met some little green men,
Went to the edge of the universe
And all the way back again.
We travelled across the galaxy
Passed the Milky Way.
Even took tea with the Man in the Moon
And all in just one day!
Our sofa was a spaceship
That special afternoon
Oh! What a great adventure!
And over all too soon!
poem by Dawn Ferrett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You've Had It
Where have you got to lately
Where are you going to be
And i thought about it yesterday now baby
It's in my cuts now baby
As deep as yours
And the scars from this are gonna last for ever
And ever
You've had it
What you're getting from me
You've had it
Now what's it going to be
You've had it
What you're getting from me
But all i wanna do is be with you
Now that you've got me baby
You're just as sharp as me
And i'm glad you've cut me off
Writing my lies on the back of your hand
Tearing me up and watching you land
Sitting your heart on the sofa with me
You've had it
But you're getting to me
Now what's it going to be
But you're getting to me
Now what's it going to be
You've had it
But all i wanna do is be with you
Where have you got to baby
Cos look what you've done
And you know that this goes
On and on and on and on
You've had it
What you're getting from me
You've had it
But you're getting to me
You've had it
You've had it
What you're getting from me
You've had it
But you're getting to me
You've had it
What you're getting to me
You've had it
But all i wanna to is be with you
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Way You Live Your Life
it was never easy
never a soda
quite a soft sofa
but never that
sleep like,
days in dark nooks
you want the sun
but it is night
most of the time
you live it clean
and short
less the unnecessary
scream
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sitting In An Empty House
Sitting in an emtpy house
Waiting for the phone to ring
Sitting in an empty house
Wanting someone to call about anything
Sitting in an house
Just a cat for company
Sitting in an empty house
Will someone please take time for me?
Sitting in an empty house
No one knows I'm so alone
Sitting in an empty house
The pain I feel remains unknown
04/29/06
Ginger cat (Villanelle)
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
I am lying on the sofa all day long
And yes, i am a cat that is very fat
I am posh and proud to be your pet
I n your eyes i never do wrong
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
I will not chase that dirty rat
I am OK, on the sofa is were i belong
And yes, i am a cat that is very fat
You can bash the rat with a bat
Cook him in a pot, feed him to Mr Chong
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
Other cats see me and they frat
I am a top cat, i lead with a midnight song
And yes i am a cat that is very fat
I am that fat cat who sat on the mat
all morning, until you heard the gong
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
And yes, i am a cat that is very fat
poem by Milica Franchi De Luri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whom do you want to sit with?
Sitting with wise people makes you wise
Sitting with rich people increases your pride
Sitting with unfortunates makes you humble
Sitting with ignorant makes you more puzzle
Sitting with traitors can make you traitors too
Along whom do you sit with, it is up to you!
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sitting In The Midday Sun
(sung by the tramp)
Im sitting by the side of a river
Underneath the pale blue sky
Ive got no need to worry, Im in no hurry
Im looking at the world go by.
Just sitting in the midday sun,
Just soaking up that currant bun,
With no particular purpose or reason
Sitting in the midday sun.
Everybody say Im lazy
They all tell me get a job you slob,
Id rather be a hobo walking round with nothing
Than a rich man scared of losing all hes got.
So Im just sitting in the midday sun
Just soaking up that currant bun,
Why should I have to give my reasons
For sitting in the midday sun
Oh look at all the ladies
Looking their best in their summer dresses,
Oh sitting in the sun.
Ive got no home,
Ive got no money
But who needs a job when its sunny. wah wah.
I havent got a steady occupation
And I cant afford a telephone.
I havent got a stereo, radio or video
A mortgage, overdraft, a bank loan.
The only way that I can get my fun
Is by sitting in the midday sun
With no particular purpose or reason
Sitting in the midday sun.
Oh listen to the people,
Say Im a failure and Ive got nothing,
Ah but if they would only see
Ive got my pride,
Ive got no money,
But who needs a job when its sunny. wah wah.
Everybody thinks Im crazy,
And everybody says Im dumb,
But when I see the people shouting at each other
Id rather be an out of work bum.
So Im just sitting in the midday sun
Just soaking up that currant bun,
With no particular purpose or reason
Sitting in the midday sun.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sitting In The Middle Of It
My heart feels like it's split open wide and bleeding.
As I'm sitting in the middle of it.
Nothing I had lived prepared me for what I had to see.
As I'm,
Sitting in the middle of it.
I do feel guilty.
I am no saint.
I am not trying to hide away,
What it is that I'm feeling.
I do feel guilty.
I am no saint.
I am not trying to hide away,
What it is that I'm feeling.
Sitting in the middle of it...
I am no saint.
I'm not trying to hide away,
What it is that I'm feeling.
Sitting in the middle of it...
I do feel guilty.
But I'll never hide away from you...
My feelings.
Sitting in the middle of it...
I do feel guilty.
But I'll never hide away from you...
My feelings.
Sitting in the middle of it...
I am no saint.
And I'll never hide from you...
My feelings.
And I'll,
Never hide from you...
My feelings.
And I'll,
Never hide from you...
My feelings.
Sitting in the middle of it.
Sitting in the middle of it,
And I'm...
Sitting in the middle of it.
Sitting in the middle of it,
And I'm...
Sitting in the middle of it.
Sitting in the middle of it,
And I'm...
Sitting in the middle of it.
And I'm...
Sitting in the middle of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elephant
Hating you is easy
Because I have loved you with equal measure
Known the art of dissapointment when left behind to ponder on a rainy
afternoon
The elephant that's sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room
Today it's me and him you left us long ago
To work out what is left of the happy ever after, not quite so
So I am courteous and polite and give the elephant a drink
From a large red plastic bucket that I filled up at the sink
He tells me in a whisper you've been seeing someone else
And it has been a year or more I been left upon the shelf
Unloved but not lonely I know love's too good to be true
But now i'm talking not ignoring,
The elephant in the room.
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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L6,212
the net with lovely mesh
catches me breathlessly, i
am breathless in this
capture, and unlike those
who want to be free, i,
have learned to love
this captivity, this mesh,
the hands are ready to
take me out from here,
but i am refusing them, i,
love it here, my heart in
captivity has found meaning
i, am, growing the flowers
of lovely prison in my skin,
i am a captive scented
to the perfume of a affection
who is more willing to
preach that freedom
too, is a dangerous matter,
the choices too many to
behold, to be understood,
the responsibility too huge
thus, killing us slowly, here,
i am freed from duty, i,
am sitting on a sofa, with
nothing in my head but
the state of having nothing
of thinking and doing nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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