Uncle Pen
Oh, the people would come from far and away,
They'd dance all night 'till the break of day,
When the caller would holler "Do-si-do,"
You knew Uncle Pen was ready to go.
Late in the evening about sun down,
High on the hill and above the town,
Uncle Pen played the fiddle, lord a how it'd ring,
You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing.
Oh, he played an old piece he called Soldier's Joy,
And he had one he called Boston Boy,
The greatest of all was Ginny Lyn,
To me that's where the fiddlin begin.
(chorus)
Oh, I'll never forget that mournful day,
When Uncle Pen was called away,
They hung up his fiddle, they hung up his bow,
You knew it was time for him to go.
(chorus)
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Fiddle About
Uncle ernie:
Uncle ernie:
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im glad you wont see or hear me
Im glad you wont see or hear me
As I fiddle about
As I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Your mother left me here to mind you
Your mother left me here to mind you
Now Im doing what I want to
Now Im doing what I want to
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddle about!
Fiddle about!
Down with the bedclothes
Down with the bedclothes
Up with the nightshirt!
Up with the nightshirt!
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
You wont shout as I fiddle about
You wont shout as I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Uncle is a Soldier
My uncle is a soldier
a soldier of the U.S. Navy Seabees
he helps people day in and day out
to reach their right to be free
My uncle is a soldier
in a poor foreign land
he helps people's villages
with no guns but the strength of his hands
My uncle is a soldier
but much more than that to me
My uncle is a soldier
and a hero to our family
poem by Krystian Huizar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Time Fiddle
(Vince Gill / Leslie Satcher)
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Play an old time fiddle song
I might even drink just a little
If you play Little Jolie Blon
If you're lookin' or me
I'm liable to be
In the middle of the ol' dance floor
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
First Chorus:
I wanna throw down on a hoe down
Hanging with the people I know
Hear the sweet sound
Of a breakdown
When you put a little rosin on the bow
Y'all come on over when the sun goes down
Bang on the ol' screen door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
I miss ol' Herman Stover
Playin' Listen To The Mockingbird
It was Piedmont, Oklahoma
It was the sweetest sound I ever heard
Skinny ol' man in a cowboy band
You could barely get the people in the door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
Second Chorus:
I wanna throw down on a hoe down
Hanging with the people I know
Hear the sweet sound
Of a breakdown
When you put a little rosin on the bow
Play diggy diggy li
Diggy diggy lo
The a little Cotten-Eyed Joe
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
First chorus:
Y'all come on over when the sun goes down
Bang on the ol' screen door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore...
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hung Up On You
Orbison/melson
Hooked on the touch of your hand, high on how you understand
Lost when you whispered hello ,something in your eyes said dont go
I just had to stay, couldnt go away from you, you knew what to do to get me
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you
You knew, the first time we met that I could never forget
You held me so close to you, I could never get over you
You were so aware how to make me care and keep me
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you
Yeah, you got me where you wanted me, I am where I really want to be
Hung up,hung up,hung up on you
Im so hung up on you that I dont know what I would do without you
Oh it will take me forever to get enough of you and I cant help it if im
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you baby,hung up on you
Hung up on you,hung up on you...
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Semantics of Flowers on Memorial Day
Historians will tell you my uncle
wouldn't have called it World War II
or the Great War plus One or Tombstone
over My Head. All of this language
came later. He and his buddies
knew it as get my ass outta here
or fucking trench foot and of course
sex please now. Petunias are an apology
for ignorance, my confidence
that saying high-density bombing
or chunks of brain in cold coffee
even suggests the athleticism
of his flinch or how casually
he picked the pieces out.
Geraniums symbolize the secrets
life kept from him, the wonder
of variable-speed drill and how
the sky would have changed had he lived
to shout it’s a girl. My hands
enter dirt easily, a premonition.
I sit back on my uncle’s stomach
exactly like I never did, he was
a picture to me, was my father
looking across a field at wheat
laying down to wind. For a while,
Tyrants’ War and War of World Freedom
and Anti-Nazi War skirmished
for linguistic domination. If
my uncle called it anything
but too many holes in too many bodies
no flower can say. I plant marigolds
because they came cheap and who knows
what the earth’s in the mood to eat.
Call Me, ‘Uncle’
Younger than my daughter,
She called me ‘brother’
Why not call me ‘uncle’?
Uncle has more sanction.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Star 69
You dont have to take the bar exam to see
What you did is ignoramus 103
Where have I got to hang my hat
You dont have line to me
All this just to be your friend
I was there to tell you
Extortion and arson, petty larceny
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you hung up my line.
Star 69.
I know all about the warehouse fire.
I know squirrelies didnt chew the wire.
Three people have my number, the other two were with me.
I dont stand tall, but Im not your patsy.
This time you have gone too far with me.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you hung up my line.
Star 69.
Whyd you put your quarter down on me?
This reads like some dark inside edition, hard copy.
I cant be your character witness, I cant be your alibi.
Dont arrange the fbi, here this spy versus spy.
You my friend are guilty as can be.
I know you called. I know you called. I know you called.
I know you called. I know you called. I cant be your alibi.
Star 69.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Morning In May
One morning, one morning, one morning in may
I spied a young couple, they were making their way
One was a maiden so bright and so fair
And the other was a soldier and a brave volunteer
Good morning, good morning, good morning said he
And where are you going my pretty lady
Im goig out a walkin on the banks of the sea
Just to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
Now they had not been standing but a minute or two
And out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew
And the tune that he played made the valleys all ring
Oh hark cried the maiden hear the nightingale sing
Oh maiden fair maiden tis time to give oer
Oh no kind soldier please play one tune more
For Id rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string
Than to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
Oh soldier kind soldier will you marry me
Oh no pretty maiden that never shall be
Ive a wife in london and children twice three
Two wives and the armys too many for me
Well Ill go back to london and Ill stay there for a year
Its often that Ill think of you my little dear
And if ever I return it will be in the spring
Just to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
To see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Horny Men
Don’t let the chickens out
Uncle said
close the gate
we don’t want
the foxes getting in
and tearing them
to pieces
because they will you know
they’ll go in for the kill
but maybe only go off
with one
and you stared
at the chickens
running around
as Uncle went
into the henhouse
to collect eggs
amongst the straw
and hay and feathers
you want to come in
and find the eggs with me?
Uncle called
and you followed him
into the henhouse
and smelt the henny stink
and shit and closeness
of hay and straw
getting up your nose
and Uncle held up an egg
and said
be careful how you hold them
don’t want any broken ones
and you searched
amongst hay and straw
and feathers and picked out
a warm egg between
your little boy finger and thumb
as if it were some gem
pulled from a pile of dung
and you held it up
to the light coming through
the henhouse window
like some offering
to the gods
a fertility symbol
you knew nothing
about then
the ways
of wild women
and horny men.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Good, Old-Fashioned People
When we hear Uncle Sidney tell
About the long-ago
An' old, old friends he loved so well
When _he_ was young--My-oh!--
Us childern all wish _we'd 'a'_ bin
A-livin' then with Uncle,--so
We could a-kindo' happened in
On them old friends he used to know!--
The good, old-fashioned people--
The hale, hard-working people--
The kindly country people
'At Uncle used to know!
They was God's people, Uncle says,
An' gloried in His name,
An' worked, without no selfishness,
An' loved their neighbers same
As they was kin: An' when they biled
Their tree-molasses, in the Spring,
Er butchered in the Fall, they smiled
An' sheered with all jist ever'thing!--
The good, old-fashioned people--
The hale, hard-working people--
The kindly country people
'At Uncle used to know!
He tells about 'em, lots o' times,
Till we'd all ruther hear
About 'em than the Nurs'ry Rhymes
Er Fairies--mighty near!--
Only sometimes he stops so long
An' then talks on so low an' slow,
It's purt'-nigh sad as any song
To listen to him talkin' so
Of the good, old-fashioned people--
The hale, hard-working people--
The kindly country people
'At Uncle used to know!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Diabolist
Me alone and God
climbing this hill
called life:
My deepest thoughts
I cannot share
even with my dearest friends.
When I pour my heart out,
when I sing the blues,
their cloven lips
clap, claptrap
on the evening news.
Me alone and God
climbing this hill
called life:
In the solid core of my mind,
I realize,
Satan can accomplish
nothing without acquiescence.
For all his evil deeds
he needs accomplices.
Me alone and God
climbing this hill
called life:
From time to time
the Adversary baits and switch.
Discontent is his arsenal tool.
He plays us for the fool
with his enticements.
Me alone and God
climbing this hill
called life:
Fighting off Diabolist,
anticipating his tricks.
We knew he could act,
we knew he could rap
and we both knew he is wily like that.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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The Ballad of Uncle Mukungu
He's my uncle and to my father a brother,
To many a darling or to all and sundry rather;
A pot of knowledge unique, and of humor and quit,
And queer a sight, a wonder as right.
This mine uncle as much do I love,
For he be within and near must cause me to laugh;
And you, liking or not whether,
Never can stand my uncle's weather.
I won't tell all- my uncle's long,
A story you would love as of humor strong;
I will do you a bit, and perhaps a bit more,
Of Mukungu's sweet and sometimes some sore.
At class three a dropout my uncle became,
And thus many had it- uncle has lost his aim;
But no! Who harbored thoughts so was but mistaken,
Listen to Mukungu and your ribs will be shaken.
His talk will behind leave no bit of sagacity,
That bit by bit and all kills ambiance of solemnity;
To imbue the air and emotion with humor high and enough,
To bury hate option and hatch of uncle to love.
Uncle is a guru of eating great,
And many a cuisine none he does hate;
And thus he's indefatigable bull of village,
Cuts through others like a sharpest edge.
Perfect artist he is and scientist as well,
He'll sing a song and tell the stars fell;
He has his language and in he's a virtuoso,
Moreover he acts and he's a star so.
poem by Willy Munyoki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without Your Love
Its late at night, nothins feelin right
Since youve gone away
I think I know why you left this time,
But its still hard to say
I nearly lost it, when he came around you
Now Im holdin it all inside and its killin me
We used to meet at an old cafe in chi-town
At first you could hear the wind stop,
Then my heart would pound
I remember everything you used to do, girl
Now Im learning something that you already knew
Chorus:
Its not the same without your love
Every night and every day, girl
Its not the same without your love
You dont have to be afraid
Its not the same without your love
Every night and every day, girl
Its not the same without your love
I sa you through the door, with your motor runnin
I can still hear the sound
I knew then, when you asked him in, you let your guard down
Youre talking soft, dont tell me,
I know youre sincere
I just called to tell you Im the only one here
Chorus
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me & My Uncle
Me and my uncle went ridin down,
South colorado, west texas bound.
We stopped over in santa fe,
That bein the point just about half way,
And you know it was the hottest part of the day.
I took the horses up to the stall,
Went to the barroom, ordered drinks for all.
Three days in the saddle, you know my body hurt,
It bein summer, I took off my shirt,
And I tried to wash off some of that dusty dirt.
When texas cowboys, theys all around,
With liquor and money, they loaded down.
So soon after payday, know it seemed a shame;
You know my uncle, he starts a friendly game,
High-low jack and the winner take the hand.
My uncle starts winnin; cowboys got sore.
One of them called him, and then two more,
Accused him of cheatin; oh no, it couldnt be.
I know my uncle, hes as honest as me,
And Im as honest as a gamblin man can be.
One of them cowboys, he starts to draw,
And I shot him down, lord he never saw.
Well I grabbed a bottle, cracked him in the jaw,
Shot me another, oh damn he wont grow old.
In the confusion, my uncle grabbed the gold,
And we high-tailed it down to mexico.
I love those cowboys, I love their gold,
I loved my uncle, God rest his soul,
Taught me good, lord, taught me all I know
Taught me so well, I grabbed that gold
And I left his dead ass there by the side of the road.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Johns Band
Well the first days are the hardest days
Dont you worry anymore
Cause when life looks like easy street
There is danger at your door
Now think this through with me
Let me know your mind
Oh what I want to know
Is are you kind
Now its a buck dancers choice my friends
Better take my advice
You know all the rules by now
And the fire from the ice
Now will you come with me
Wont you come with me
Oh what I want to know
Will you come with me
Sister well I declare
Have you seen the like
Their walls are built of cannon balls
Their motto is dont tread on me
Come hear uncle johns band
Playing to the tide
Come with me or go alone
Hes come to take his children home
Its the same story the crow told me
Its the only one he knows
Like the morning sun you come
And like the wind you go
Aint no time to hate
Barely time to wait
Oh what I want to know
Where does the time go
I live in a silver mine
And I call it beggers tomb
Ive got me a violin
And I beg you call the tune
Anybodys choice
I can hear your voice
Oh what I want to know
How does the song go
Come hear uncle johns band
By the riverside
Got some things to talk about
Here beside the rising tide
Come hear uncle johns band
Playing to the tide
Come on come on or go alone
Hes come to take his children home
Whoa what I want to know
How does the song go
Come hear uncle johns band
By the riverside
Got some things to talk about
Here beside the rising tide
Come hear uncle johns band
Playing to the tide
Come on along or go alone
Hes come to take his children home
Come hear uncle johns band
(brother)
By the riverside
(aint no time to hate)
Got some things to talk about
(sister)
Here beside the rising tide
(aint no time to wait)
Come hear uncle johns band
Playing to the tide
Come on along or go alone
Hes come to take his children home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As My Uncle Used To Say
I've thought a power on men and things,
As my uncle ust to say,--
And ef folks don't work as they pray, i jings!
W'y, they ain't no use to pray!
Ef you want somepin', and jes dead-set
A-pleadin' fer it with both eyes wet,
And _tears_ won't bring it, w'y, you try _sweat_,
As my uncle ust to say.
They's some don't know their A, B, Cs,
As my uncle ust to say,
And yit don't waste no candle-grease,
Ner whistle their lives away!
But ef they can't write no book, ner rhyme
No ringin' song fer to last all time,
They can blaze the way fer the march sublime,
As my uncle ust to say.
Whoever's Foreman of all things here,
As my uncle ust to say,
He knows each job 'at we 're best fit fer,
And our round-up, night and day:
And a-sizin' _His_ work, east and west,
And north and south, and worst and best
I ain't got nothin' to suggest,
As my uncle ust to say.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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My uncle was a hero, Lewis Roundtree. He was not even related to me really, but he was always called my uncle. He was like a father to me. I was closer to him than I was my father.
quote by Ed Bradley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Somethin'
(LL Cool J)
Here we go - another funky style
Peace to my brothers on "Rikers' Isle"
Introducin' the crew, that's goin' a mile
To get behind the ropes, stop actin' wild
This here part is like section one
so you can bug-a-loo and set fire to your buns
Early mornin' light is yet to come
And when it come, we'll get buggy in the sun
Females - let your hair down
Cause this is how we do it when we go uptown
with the funky sound, the razzamatazz
you give me to the "sploshers", you can get your-a blast
Enter at your own risk - some brothers got weapons
Yet you're still steppin', the beats' so funkafied
and answer to the bone, people'll be dancin' alone
Leanin' on the wall next to grandma's mop
With the funky, funky groove that's far from pop
Dosey-do your partner all night long
and all you mothers, bring your kids along
(Chorus: LL Cool J)
(Yo Uncle) whassup, whassup?
(Yo Uncle) yeah, I do a little somethin'
(Yo Uncle) whassup, whassup?
(Yo Uncle) Huh, I do a little somethin'
(Yo Uncle) whassup, whassup?
(Yo Uncle) yeah, hah, I do a little somethin'
(Yo Uncle) whassup, whassup?
(Yo Uncle) (just kick a little somethin'...)
(LL Cool J)
Ain't no mountain high enough to overcome this
funky-like type of stuff
The feds are ridiculous, they call my bluff
Oh, my wrists are too skinny to hold me with cuffs
I got the sure-shot guaranteed mover
Suck it like a hoover and do ya whole maneuver
Don't stop till you get it on
With ya head be- boppin' like a bouncy ball
They do it in the park, they do it in the mall
But when I do it (yeah), I'm doin' it for y'all
Asiatic, automatic, your funky fanatic without no s
song performed by by LL Cool J
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Uncle Gay
I can not say in a way,
That would for anyone be understood.
But I have an uncle named Gayhall,
Who stands for me very tall.
A minister he is,
With a wife Pamela and two adorable kids.
Well...
They are no longer 'kids'.
Two beautiful women I 'should' say.
Nicole and Tiffany...
Each with a uniqueness,
Anyone can see.
Although my Uncle Gay,
Has been sick of late.
I hate the fact that he's like that.
But what can I do,
Besides pray from my Uncle Gay?
I 'see' him getting better,
Each day as I 'visualize'.
I want his health to return to him.
Because he is very special,
In my eyes.
I love my aunts and uncles...
As 'if' they were mine!
And...
Hey,
They are 'mine'!
Well...
Let me define what it is I want God to do!
'God,
I know for a fact...
You are with me all the time!
But...
Will You heal my Uncle Gay?
Right 'now'!
And...
Today! '
Dedicated to:
My Uncle Reverand Gayhall Pertillar.
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
'Love you, Uncle Gay...
Pam and 'kids'.'
Nephew Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Its What I Am
(john calvert/aaron sain)
I got my first guitar when I was just a boy
I was playing the blues instead of playing with toys
Listening to the opry and dreaming of the neon lights
So it was late to bed and early to rise
I worked the field all day and the crowd all night
My finger on the trigger and nashville in my sights
Im the real thing and I sing songs about real life
And I never heard a fiddle called a violin
Never really worried if I fit in
Country aint what I sing its what I am
This hat aint something I wear for style
These boots have been around a while
Country aint what I sing its what I am
I learned to drive on a dirt road
Cruised the strip on rock and roll
And drove around on miles and miles of texas
And as I grew daddy showed me now
To earn a living by the sweat of my brow
But he never made me follow in his steps
He said work hard and let the good lord do the rest
And I never heard a fiddle called a violin
Never really worried if I fit in
Country aint what I sing its what I am
This truck aint something I drive for style
These boots have been around a while
Country aint what I sing its what I am
And I never heard a fiddle called a violin
Never really worried if I fit in
Country aint what I sing its what I am
This hat aint something I wear for style
These boots have been around a while
Country aint what I sing its what I am
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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