Ernie
I am the bringer of your wishes,
Your saviour from doing work,
The washer of your dishes,and
Youll still get you mid-day perk.
Estate agent,
Your mansion and pot of gold,
All the home comforts,
Before youre getting tired and old.
One more try,
Try to get what youve never had,
Five more bob,
For the whole world that cant be bad.
We cant all win,
Look its happening,
The futures looking not so bleak,
A thousand winners every week.
A thousand winners every week.
So when you hear me coming,
Along halls and up the stairs,
Get the black teapot,
In the cupboard, under chairs,
Forget all your wives tales,
Or forecasts and dividends,
E.r.n.i.e. feels vibrations,
Only pays out to trusting friends.
One more try,
Try to get what youve never had,
Five more bob,
For the whole world that cant be bad.
We cant all win,
Look its happening,
The futures looking not so bleak,
A thousand winners every week.
A thousand winners every week.
Keep your hand on the bottle,
And your eyes glued upon the set,
When the score cards come up,
Could be you for the big one next.
Publicity, no thank you,
On the front page of the currant bun,
They think you stink,
But in the pub youll be number one.
One more try,
Try to get what youve never had,
Five more bob,
For the whole world that cant be bad.
We cant all win,
Look its happening,
The futures looking not so bleak,
A thousand winners every week.
A thousand winners every week.
A thousand winners every week.
A thousand winners every week.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Winners Take All
Life's been good
Life's been bad
Now I know
What I had
Has taken it's toll on me
Yes we give
And we take
What we get
Is what we make
Believe that dreams come true
Life is crazy
We're not fools, no, no
The price is high
When you keep the score
Take your souls
And your goals
To the top
Together we stand
We won't take no more
Cause we're winners
And winners take all
Together we stand
We won't take no more
Cause we're winners
And winners take all
We have loved
Burned by fate
But for once
Set the record straight
Time does heal all wounds
You have laughed
We have cried
Paid our dues
Yes we're turned the tide
Mistakes are far and few
We need no guidance
Our aim is true
Down the road
There were many tolls
But we know
Cause we've grown
What we need
Together we stand
We won't take no more
Cause we're winners
And winners take all
Together we stand
We won't take no more
Cause we're winners
And winners take all
The price is high
When you keep the score
Take your souls
And your goals
To the top
Together we stand
We won't take no more
Cause we're winners
And winners take all
Together we stand
We won't take no more
Cause we're winners
And winners take all
Na, na, na-na-na na-na
Na-na, na-na-na-na
Na-na-na, na
Na, na, na-na-na na-na
Na-na, na-na-na-na
Na-na-na, na
Na, na, na-na-na na-na
Na-na, na-na-na-na
Na-na-na, na
Na,
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winners Are Always The Heroes
The winners are always the heroes in life it is always this way
The losers are quickly forgotten though a fine and sporting
game they did play
'Tis only a sport it may well seem where people chase after a ball
But many take football quite seriously though 'tis only a game after all,
The winners are always the heroes and that's how it always will be
The fans of the winners are singing rejoicing in their victory
Life and sports are akin in many ways though some may say 'tis only a game
The winners get all of the applause and the winners can bask in their fame,
The winners are always the heroes and the winners get all of the praise
And always only to the winners the toasters their toasting glasses raise
The losers are quickly forgotten though some must lose for some to win
Yet some look on losing as shameful to them there is no greater sin,
In life as in sport the poor losers are the people the masses ignore
And in football the really big hero is the one who kicks the winning score.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They've Chosen To Be Winners
Picking up those pieces from a running done.
Now taking time when before they gave none.
Less they find offensive too.
With fresh sentiments meant,
They've improved.
Sticking to a purpose with a focused aimed
With minds more open.
And those attitudes changed.
A new day dawning has to them been sent.
To send defensive motives flushed,
With their fluxing minds now rinsed.
And...
They've chosen to be winners!
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
They have chosen to be winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
Picking up those pieces from a running done.
Now taking time when before they gave none.
Less they find offensive too.
With fresh sentiments meant they've improved.
And...
They've chosen to be winners!
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
They are winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
To now say and to claim that they are...
Winners.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Week
Oh, the new-chum went to the backblock run,
But he should have gone there last week.
He tramped ten miles with a loaded gun,
But of turkey of duck saw never a one,
For he should have been there last week,
They said,
There were flocks of 'em there last week.
He wended his way to a waterfall,
And he should have gone there last week.
He carried a camera, legs and all,
But the day was hot and the stream was small,
For he should have gone there last week,
They said,
They drowned a man there last week.
He went for a drive, and he made a start,
Which should have been made last week,
For the old horse died of a broken heart;
So he footed it home and he dragged the cart --
But the horse was all right last week,
They said,
He trotted a match last week.
So he asked all the bushies who came from afar
To visit the town last week
If the'd dine with him, and they said "Hurrah!"
But there wasn't a drop in the whisky jar --
You should have been here last week,
He said,
I drank it all up last week!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Cup, A Common Stage
The World Cup is a common stage
It is an arena for winners
and an arena for losers
Without the losers, there is no
proclamation of winners.
The winners may rejoice
to have scored more
But their victory only happens
because there are those who
have scored less.
As a common arena in life's
test of strength and wits,
the winners can rejoice
but still without forgetting
that they win because others lose.
Those who lose do no lose
their great value in that common stage.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By Those Interested In War History
By those interested in war history war history is read
But the winners write the war history or so it is said
That is how it is and will always be
What is true to one is not to another that's how it seems to me
Of war and war heroes many stories are written and many poems to recite
And mostly of war winners that war writers stories do write
And readers believe what they want to believe
And the mothers of the war dead for their dead children grieve
In war as in life 'tis the winners who count
And the stories of losers to little amount
For the dead war heroes many a parade
And far too many films of war have been made
And 'tis mostly the winners write the war history
That is how it is and always will be.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Week In Week Out
IIs there something more?
Surely there must be
You can't lose everything
So you're quite happy
To live with nothing more
Than a life-long shopping list
You tick off on credit
Well you'll pay for it
Week in and week out
Your lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
Where are you going to turn?
When all ambition fails?
Why try any more
If human nature's stale?
Invite the hand of God
To touch the lucky few
There's no such thing as God
Nor easy money too?
Week in and week out
These lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
Week in and week out
Your lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
song performed by by Ordinary Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Happening Week
Next week
Will be
A happening
Week!
As it will be
Holi :)
What happens
If I die?
Of course,
It will still be
A happening
Week :)
As you'll be
Whispering
All sorts of
Gossip -
About me ;)
LOL: D
(Holi is on Thursday,8th March,2012.)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I believe there's an inner power that makes winners or losers. And the winners are the ones who really listen to the truth of their hearts.
quote by Sylvester Stallone
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Winners & Losers
Pop/Jones
Winners and losers which one am I,
is it the same under the sky?
black motorcycles and the will to survive
losers and winners low and high
in this glass and wire world
surely leeches gain the right
to send their message screaming
one that has no meaning
to people who feel
questions and questions plain as your nose
but who would believe a little rose?
winners and losers in love with themselves
no santa claus no happy elves
in this smoking gun existence
it gets harder to unwind
i'll just eat my breakfast
try to keep my questions
starving all night
out in the suburbs i met
my true fine love
down in the suburbs i met
my true fine love
she gave me money
she gave me head
she gave my everything
and then she went dead
stick out your thumb
and hit the open road
cat in a mercedes
goes by, he's old
he's got some, you got none
together maybe you can have
some fun-winners and losers
gentlemen boozers
winners and losers
roll roll roll roll
roll your money down
rock rock rock rock
takln' over this town
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winners & Losers
Pop/jones
Winners and losers which one am i,
Is it the same under the sky?
Black motorcycles and the will to survive
Losers and winners low and high
In this glass and wire world
Surely leeches gain the right
To send their message screaming
One that has no meaning
To people who feel
Questions and questions plain as your nose
But who would believe a little rose?
Winners and losers in love with themselves
No santa claus no happy elves
In this smoking gun existence
It gets harder to unwind
I'll just eat my breakfast
Try to keep my questions
Starving all night
Out in the suburbs i met
My true fine love
Down in the suburbs i met
My true fine love
She gave me money
She gave me head
She gave my everything
And then she went dead
Stick out your thumb
And hit the open road
Cat in a mercedes
Goes by, he's old
He's got some, you got none
Together maybe you can have
Some fun-winners and losers
Gentlemen boozers
Winners and losers
Roll roll roll roll
Roll your money down
Rock rock rock rock
Takln' over this town
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Week/last Week... Carefree
Can we run that again
Is that a womans voice I hear?
I said, lets wait and see. Ill see for myself
Thats a phrase I repeat
To myself
Made a reference to me and
Thats myself too
What progress I have made the first week
First week
First week
First week
Every sentence I use
Refer to women and their names
I heard the voice first last week
I heard it myself
Made a reference to me
Thats myself
This reports incomplete
I see for myself
Every appointment has been moved to last week
Last week
Last week
Last week
Oh...
Ah...
Oh...
I heard the voice first last week
I heard it myself
Made a reference to me
And thats myself
This reports incomplete
I see for myself
Every appointment has been been moved to last week
Last week
Last week
Last week
Oh...
Ah...
Oh...
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Wins in War?
Who are the winners in every war?
The ones who start the war, for sure.
They are the ones who sit at a desk
and devise their devious plan
to cash in on the death of boys,
this time in afghanistan.
Now the winners walk away proud
with regalia on their chest.
The heroes that thrive on war
surely must have been blessed
for they continuously salute in military style
as they walk among the rank and file.
I say 'take off your medals
and join the boys who kill.'
The medals won't protect you then
you'll be where the blood does spill.
As a result you'll ask the question
'Who are the winners in every war? '
It's those white shirts behind desks
that started the war.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Winners Write The History
That the winners write the war histories should not be the case
For war is a tragedy a human disgrace
And the losers in war see their Country destoyed
And the war history never written by the losing side.
Look at Oliver Cromwell victorious in war
The deeds of his glory from England known far
But those who write on Cromwell they never do tell
Of one who for poor people made life Earthly hell.
To the Catholics of Ireland Cromwell was a brute
The poor rural peasants he did persecute
Yet streets in his honour distant from England today
The winners only write the history so true what they say.
Efrain Rios Montt became President of Guatemala even though he
Was guilty of serious crimes against humanity
An old man now but for his crimes yet to pay
The winners write the history it's always been that way.
Augusto Pinochet in Chile has blood on his hands
And that he may die a free man seems hard to understand
And though loathed by many in Chile for his crimes of shame
The winners write the history and their's is the fame.
I've just mentioned a few for there are many more
Who have committed crimes against humanity but like it has been said before
that the winners write the history and that's how 'twill remain
And the mistakes of the past are repeated again.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So, I didn't say we are going to win a lot, but we are going to play like winners, and we've got a plan in place to teach our guys how to play like winners and play like a champion.
quote by Steve Spurrier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish Fever
This week end I went fishing
A fish in mind to catch
I went wishing, wishing, wishing
To catch a perfect catch
I wanted to catch the big one
The one that always gets away
I waited under the hot, hot sun
I waited for that fish all day
Then there was a pull on my line
The pull so full of magic
It made me think mine, mine, mine
Me, the fisherwoman classic
This fish was big I could feel
Big and strong, a winners tale
All I had to do was reel, reel, reel
In order not to fail
Me and this fish fought a moment
Tugging and yanking, pulling and reeling
Until I screamed net! Net! NET!
Is this a winners feeling?
In that moment I knew that it was this
The moment I caught the one that got away
I caught it, I caught it, I caught it
Fishing fever is what I caught that day
poem by Cheré Mason
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode to Paul
A soothe- saying invertebrate
Takes the world stage by storm
By accurately predicting winners
And by deduction the losers too
The ecstatic winners are thrilled
To offer him goodies and publish
Eulogies about his stunning feat
In accurately predicting their wins
The losers of course have their guns
Trained on the poor psychic octopus
Some onlookers observe the scene
With a quiet sense of amusement
As the creature hogs the headlines
“Preserve him, give him 24/7 security”
Shout the soccer tournament winners
“Get your pans ready for fried octopus
Hopefully Paul will make a tasty dish”
Shout the more distraught losers
The muse in me, sits back and wonders
“What is the world coming to - if our
Future lies in the tentacles of an octopus! ! ”
poem by Sandra Martyres
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby's Age
She came with April blooms and showers;
We count her little life by flowers.
As buds the rose upon her cheek,
We choose a flower for every week.
A week of hyacinths, we say,
And one of heart's-ease, ushered May;
And then because two wishes met
Upon the rose and violet --
I liked the Beauty, Kate, the Nun --
The violet and the rose count one.
A week the apple marked with white;
A week the lily scored in light;
Red poppies closed May's happy moon,
And tulips this blue week in June.
Here end as yet the flowery links;
To-day begins the week of pinks;
But soon -- so grave, and deep, and wise
The meaning grows in Baby's eyes,
So VERY deep for Baby's age --
We think to date a week with sage!
poem by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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