On Any Other Day
You want something corny?
You got it
Theres a house on my street
And it looks real neat
Im the chap who lives in it
Theres a tree on the sidewalk
Theres a car by the door
Ill go for a drive in it
And when the wombat comes
He will find me gone
Hell look for a place to sit
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
Cut off my fingers in the
Door of my car
How could I do it?
My wife is proud to tell me
Of her love affairs
How could she do this to me?
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
Throw down the morning papers
And spill my tea
I dont know whats wrong with me
The cups and plates are in a
Conspiracy
Im covered in misery
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Television is a golden goose that lays scrambled eggs; and it is futile and probably fatal to beat it for not laying caviar. Anyway, more people like scrambled eggs than caviar.
quote by Lee Loevinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teenage Love
(robert segarini)
Published by robertunes/slalom publishing co. - bmi
I dont want no older woman, who really doesnt dig my scene
And I dont want no spaced out groupie, who wants to be a gypsy queen
And I dont want no nasty lady, who doesnt dig rock n roll
Cause I just want the dew eyed daughter of a father that lost control
Gimme some teenage love, ooh gimme some teenage love
Come on baby, youre drivin me crazy, gimme some teenage love
I dont want no modern lover, who really doesnt dig my sound
And I dont want no boozed out floozy, who needs to lose a few more pounds
And I dont want no nasty lady, who doesnt dig rhythm and blues
Cause I just want the dew eyed daughter of a father that was born to lose
So gimme some teenage love, ooh gimme some teenage love
Come on baby, youre drivin me crazy, gimme some teenage love
I dont want no sophisticated lady, who really doesnt dig my scene
And I dont want no funky chickie, who used to be a country queen
And I dont want no rich bitch sugar, who doesnt dig rhythm and blues
Cause I just want the dew eyed daughter of a father that was born to lose
So gimme some teenage love, ooh gimme some teenage love
So come on baby, youre drivin me crazy, and gimme some teenage love
Gimme some teenage love, gimme some teenage love
Gimme some teenage love, gimme some teenage love
Come on baby, youre drivin me crazy, gimme some teenage love
Come on baby, youre drivin me crazy, gimme some teenage love
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A Rooster On The Roof
Someone said,
Chickens will come home to roost.
And there is a rooster on the roof,
With binoculars laughing.
'I want some scrambled eggs made,
With toast and marmalade.'
Someone said,
He was too young to fish.
But with them he went fishing,
And came back with all the fish.
'Clean it and fry it up with wild rice.
Cook some collard greens,
And that will be real nice.'
Someone said a failure will be seen.
But they are not the ones,
Eating fish and greens.
And there's a rooster on the roof,
Croaking for chickens to lay their eggs.
And the young fisherman,
Bathes in accolades!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Auld Wife
PART I
The auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
A thing she had frequently done before;
And her spectacles lay on her apron’d knees.
The piper he pip’d on the hill-top high,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
Till the cow said, “I die,” and the goose asked “Why?”
And the dog said nothing, but search’d for fleas.
The farmer he strode through the square farmyard;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
His last brew of ale was a trifle hard,
The connection of which with the plot one sees.
The farmer’s daughter hath frank blue eyes;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,
As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas.
The farmer’s daughter hath ripe red lips;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
If you try to approach her away she skips
Over tables and chairs with apparent ease.
The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where,
Which wholly consisted of lines like these.
PART II
She sat with her hands ’neath her dimpled cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And spake not a word. While a lady speaks
There is hope, but she did n’t even sneeze.
She sat with her hands ’neath her crimson cheeks;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She gave up mending her father’s breeks,
And let the cat roll in her best chemise.
She sat with her hands ’neath her burning cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And gaz’d at the piper for thirteen weeks;
Then she follow’d him out o’er the misty leas.
Her sheep follow’d her, as their tails did them,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And this song is consider’d a perfect gem;
And as to the meaning, it ’s what you please.
poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Three Of Us
Our daughter woke up
She has been sick all night
So we took her to the hospital
They said she's going to be fine.
My wife, she was covered in tears,
They talked to us minimizing all our fears
So I took them home put our daughter in our bed
She fell asleep immediately, so did her mom
And that's the way we slept all night long.
poem by Gabriel Couto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young Farmer
The young farmer is not dead
the earth that loves him, still remembers him,
where his young wife was raped by barbarians
and his small toddler daughter as well
where his farm house has been burned down to rubble
and is still smoking after the mad plundering
he lies half scorched, his face distorted
and who will be able to bring some justice here?
The farmer lifts his fists against the wind,
stand against the horizon somewhat blinded,
searches perplexed for missing answers
tries to find a judgement form God
and the wind turns dust up from the red ground,
even the earth is wounded.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not Sorry No She Said
I am not sorry no she said
That my ex son in law is dead
He gave to my daughter a hard life
And she to him was a good wife.
It may seem a callous thing of me to say
That I'm not sorry he's out of the way
For without him my daughter will survive
And in fact I'd like to think she'll thrive.
And though I feel her years with him were wasted years
My daughter sheds her grief in tears
To him she was a good wife and a good friend
And she stayed with him right to the end.
Whatever in him did she see
I find it way far beyond me
For to understand the workings of humanity
For they were different as can be.
She said as for myself I've been lucky in life
Lucky to be a good man's wife
But our daughter good of heart and kind
In love and marriage happiness failed to find.
Her feelings she is not afraid to own
When she said the rudest man that I've ever known
And I am not sorry no she said
That my ex son in law is dead.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Aisle Of Plenty
I dont belong here, said old tessa out loud.
Easy, love, theres the safe way home.
- thankful for her fine fair discount, tess co-operates
Still alone in o-hell-o
- see the deadly nightshade grow
English ribs of beef cut down to 47p lb
Peek freans family assorted from 17 1/2 to 12
Fairy liquid giant - slashed from 20p to 17 1/2
Table jellys at 4p each
Anchor butter down to 11p for a 1/2
Birds eye dairy cream sponge on offer this week.
Its scrambled eggs.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Say It Ain't So Joe
(Head)
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
That's not what I wanna hear Jo
And I got a right to know
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
I'm sure they're telling us lies Jo
Please tell us it ain't so
They told us that our hero has played his trump card
He doesn't know how to go on
We're clinging to his charm and determined smile
The good old days have gone
The image and the empire may be falling apart
The money has gotten scarce
One man's word held the country together
But the truth is getting fierce
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
We pinned our hopes on you Jo
And they're ruining our show
Ooh baby don't you think
We're gonna get burned
Ooh baby don't you think
We're gonna get burned
We're gonna get turned
We're gonna get burned
Yes we're gonna get turned
We're gonna get burned
We're gonna get turned
Yes, we're gonna get burned
We're gonna get burned
We're gonna get burned
Yes we're gonna get turned
We're gonna get burned
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
That's not what I wanna hear Jo
And I got a right to know
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
I'm sure they're telling us lies Jo
Please tell us it ain't so
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
That's not what I wanna hear Jo
And I got a right to know
Say it ain't so Jo, please, say it ain't so
I'm sure they're telling us lies Jo
Please tell us it ain't so
Say it ain't so
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Family
If you have a child in your lap,
young moms would visit with kids to make them play around,
if you have a toddler,
many toddler will come and make your house upside down
if you have a teenage boy or girl,
young crowd willl throng your house with lots of noise,
if you have a married daughter in law in your familty,
young married ladies will get together to gossip and have fun,
if you have a oldies in your house,
old retired people will come to have a cup of coffee,
and when you donot have anyone,
no one will come to your house to say hello.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scots of the Riverina
The boy cleared out to the city from his home at harvest time --
They were Scots of the Riverina, and to run from home was a crime.
The old man burned his letters, the first and last he burned,
And he scratched his name from the Bible when the old wife's back was turned.
A year went past and another. There were calls from the firing-line;
They heard the boy had enlisted, but the old man made no sign.
His name must never be mentioned on the farm by Gundagai --
They were Scots of the Riverina with ever the kirk hard by.
The boy came home on his "final", and the township's bonfire burned.
His mother's arms were about him; but the old man's back was turned.
The daughters begged for pardon till the old man raised his hand --
A Scot of the Riverina who was hard to understand.
The boy was killed in Flanders, where the best and bravest die.
There were tears at the Grahame homestead and grief in Gundagai;
But the old man ploughed at daybreak and the old man ploughed till the mirk --
There were furrows of pain in the orchard while his housefolk went to the kirk.
The hurricane lamp in the rafters dimly and dimly burned;
And the old man died at the table when the old wife's back was turned.
Face down on his bare arms folded he sank with his wild grey hair
Outspread o'er the open Bible and a name re-written there.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turn Around
(malvina reynolds/allan greene/harry belafonte)
Where are you going my little one, little one
Where are you going my baby my own
Turn around and youre two
Turn around and youre four
Turn around and youre a young girl
Going out of the door
Turn around
Turn around
Turn around and youre a young girl
Going out of the door
Where are you going my little one, little one
Little dirndls and petticoats, where are you know
Turn around and youre tiny
Turn around and youre grown
Turn around and youre a young wife
With babes of your own
Turn around
Turn around
Turn around and youre a young wife
With babes of your own
Turn around
Turn around
Turn around and youre a young wife
Turn around and youre a young wife
With babes of your own
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To All Future Husbands
No matter
How much
I educate
My daughter,
If she's not
A good cook
Nor a good
Whore to you
In bed, you
Wouldn't fancy her.
It's the age of
Equality.
If you want your
Wife to work
And bring in
Money…
Why not ask
Your mothers
To teach you
Some cooking
And cleaning
So you can
Share the
Housework.
Instead of being
Brought up
To think
That no matter,
How much
Your wife
Works…
She'll always be
Up and ready,
To do all the
Serving…
And you, the
Lord of the house,
The most deserving,
Unflurried by the fact
That - to be the lady
Of the house, being
A mother, a wife,
A daughter-in-law,
Is Oh! So! Nerve-wracking,
So very tiring, for a woman
Working…
(Theme: Message)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Say It Aint So Jo
(head)
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
Thats not what I wanna hear jo
And I got a right to know
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
Im sure theyre telling us lies jo
Please tell us it aint so
They told us that our hero has played his trump card
He doesnt know how to go on
Were clinging to his charm and determined smile
The good old days have gone
The image and the empire may be falling apart
The money has gotten scarce
One mans word held the country together
But the truth is getting fierce
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
We pinned our hopes on you jo
And theyre ruining our show
Ooh baby dont you think
Were gonna get burned
Ooh baby dont you think
Were gonna get burned
Were gonna get turned
Were gonna get burned
Yes were gonna get turned
Were gonna get burned
Were gonna get turned
Yes, were gonna get burned
Were gonna get burned
Were gonna get burned
Yes were gonna get turned
Were gonna get burned
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
Thats not what I wanna hear jo
And I got a right to know
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
Im sure theyre telling us lies jo
Please tell us it aint so
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
Thats not what I wanna hear jo
And I got a right to know
Say it aint so jo, please, say it aint so
Im sure theyre telling us lies jo
Please tell us it aint so
Say it aint so
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scrambled Eggs And Whiskey
Scrambled eggs and whiskey
in the false-dawn light. Chicago,
a sweet town, bleak, God knows,
but sweet. Sometimes. And
weren't we fine tonight?
When Hank set up that limping
treble roll behind me
my horn just growled and I
thought my heart would burst.
And Brad M. pressing with the
soft stick and Joe-Anne
singing low. Here we are now
in the White Tower, leaning
on one another, too tired
to go home. But don't say a word,
don't tell a soul, they wouldn't
understand, they couldn't, never
in a million years, how fine,
how magnificent we were
in that old club tonight.
poem by Hayden Carruth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home invasion in Springs
Masked like the black criminals
that robs you of your car
and just there and there promises you death,
they arrived
with a mini bus taxi on the farm,
drove right through the farm gate
and at the front door
jumped out of the kombi
with five steps intruded into the house
to bring death to the farmer,
to rape the wife
and daughter.
The farmer heard the crash
at the gate,
he realized that it was big trouble
heard them in their own language command
to kill, while shot upon shot
was ringing from the front porch
and he though about the obliteration
of his whole family.
His wife was too far away
in the lounge busy with sewing
and he heard his daughter rushing screaming
to her mother
turned about hurried to the gun safe
and got hold of a pump action shotgun
with LG cartridges
and rushed down the hallway.
In the lounge four black criminals
aimed pistols at his daughter and wife
told them to strip themselves bare
and when they did not want to
one said to the others in his language
to kill them
while the farmer was sneaking
closer at the back of the lounge suite.
Just one glance from the farmer
made his wife and daughter fall to the ground
two shots came from the shotgun
lifting two of the gangsters right from their feet
and the other two started shooting
into the ceiling
and the wall of the lounge
and when the farmer fired again
they fled in fear to the outside
turning around to fire at the farmer
and another one dropped in his tracks,
the other ran wounded into the cornfield.
At the start the police, wanted to arrest
the farmer for the murder of the robbers,
but there was more than enough evidence
that it was self-defence,
even the farm workers
were witnesses
about the shooting, threat
of the robbers
and by his actions
the farmer saved himself, his wife and daughter
and the labourers praised him
as a kind and a just man
but at the church
some members regarded the farmer
as a mass killer
who had determined the fate of others with a shotgun.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baba Oriley
Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I dont need to fight
To prove Im right
I dont need to be forgiven
Dont cry
Dont raise your eye
Its only teenage wasteland
Sally ,take my hand
Travel south crossland
Put out the fire
Dont look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Lets get together
Before we get much older
Teenage wasteland
Its only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh, oh
Teenage wasteland
Theyre all wasted!
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baba O Riley
Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I dont need to fight
To prove Im right
I dont need to be forgiven
Dont cry
Dont raise your eye
Its only teenage wasteland
Sally ,take my hand
Travel south crossland
Put out the fire
Dont look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Lets get together
Before we get much older
Teenage wasteland
Its only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh, oh
Teenage wasteland
Theyre all wasted!
Originally by the who
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baba Oriley
Out here in the fields, I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I dont need to fight, to prove Im right
I dont need to be forgiven
Dont cry, dont raise your eye
Its only teenage wasteland
Sally, take my hand
Well travel south, cross land
Put out the fire and dont look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Lets get together befor we get much older
Teenage wasteland
Its only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
(its only) teenage wasteland
Theyre all wasted!
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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