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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Related quotes
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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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Charming Cat Show
All colors and fluffiness
Were the cats on display
Serious now
Not time for cat play
Not time to hunt
No time to prowl
Barely the time
For a faint cat’s meow
Pampered and petted
And powdered as well
Brushed till their hair
Shined and perfectly fell
They all were winners
Ask them and they’d say,
“I should be first
Without further delay”
And yes, that was true
As far as cats go
All were true winners
At the charming cat show!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Human Life Can Be Much
Human life can be much like a game of football
The winners we only do wish to recall
The hero as usual kicks the winning score
Tell us something new we have heard it before
For the winner the glory and that says it all
The winner the proud one the winner walks tall
The taste of success it is always so sweet
Whilst only bitterness in the taste of defeat
Even the gallant loser we tend to ignore
For him or her there is never an encore
The winners have earned their right for to boast
And 'tis only to them that we do drink a toast
Human life can be much like a game of football
For those known as losers life's not good at all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Passing Cromwell Street
In Melbourne streets named in his honour though he does not warrant such fame
For he lived a life of dishonour yet he never felt any shame
For his crimes against the poor of Ireland the winners write the history they say
And historians are too kind to Cromwell the one who did awful things in his day.
He evicted the poor of rural Ireland those who only knew of poverty
And put them on the hard road to Connacht the victims of crimes against humanity
His army were thugs and not soldiers for they did things that soldiers ought not do
The winners always write the history though their version of history is often not true.
In Cromwell's time the winners wrote the history and the winners still write the history today
But for any crimes against humanity the winners too should be made to pay
But Cromwell and his army honoured for their crimes in Ireland against the poor defenceless poor
'Tis sad to think that one so unworthy of a place in history is secure.
To hell or to Connacht his catch cry he forced thousands of poor families on the road
To people who were penniless and innocent not one scrap of mercy he showed
Thousands of them died in the harsh Irish Winter when homelessness on them took it's toll
Because they were poor they were punished though their life circumstances beyond their control.
I think of the untruths of history each time I drive by Cromwell street
The history written by winners their history of lies and deceit
I say to myself they honour a tyrant and I struggle for to understand
Why they name a street after somebody who oppressed the poor of Ireland.
Andrew Marvell in verse glorified Cromwell but he was one who would not know
What Cromwell and his army got up to in Ireland in those bleak times centuries ago
But he only believed what they told him and they told him what he wanted to hear
History often written by unworthy people those who rule by terror and fear.
In Melbourne streets named in his honour his poor victims long forgotten and gone
Into the World of the forgotten but Cromwell's fame is living on
And the lessons we should have learned from history did not lead to a fair go for all
And the winners only write the story though the real truth they never recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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Guesses....
must i have to pretend
that the first one was true?
could be, most likely
could be, i nodded and then
i too, shook my head,
but granting
you think that it was true
and i must believe you
and then it was over
and then came the second time
just a game, people play games,
like kids, could be one of those games
i play, and i want to quit, but who can?
and it was over, and we want to forget it
just the same, the third one came
and with more experience
more meanings are tried to be
attached, like some strings,
and again, like all things with ends,
it too was over, we got it over and over again
and then, just like old things, we forget,
we tried to remember, but powerless
are we, we are not quitters, we are winners,
we keep saying, we are winners,
and then gray hairs occupied our
black territories, and then
we surrender, we accept, we forget
and we try to remember again
everything is over, like a game,
everything ends, like the world,
like life, befriending death
befriending everybody, saying yes and yes
and yes, and then we approach
the bed, and utter the last word,
thanks, it is over.
now, shall you leave me? i am at rest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Run Devil Run
(McCartney)
Run devil run, the angels having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you Run . . . Run Devil Run
By a swamp in Alabama in the cold in the damp
Sittin reading by the light of a kerosene lamp
Lives a holly roller with a mission on her mind
Got to spread the word to anybody she can find
You can hear her screaming any time in night or day
This is what she says to keep the demons away
Run devil run, the angels having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you Run . . . Run Devil Run
Her brother and her sister said that she brought them down
Steppin on the bus that was heading to town
There they started drinking, they got into a fight
The sheriff introduced them to the jailhouse for a night
When the holy roller came to town to pay the bail
This is what she sang as she was leaving the jail
Run devil run, the angels having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you Run . . . Run Devil Run
Lead solo (8 bars)
Piano (8 bars)
Well by the middle of the summer they were back in the shack
Picking cotton for a livin keep 'em on the right track
Visiting the nieghbours trying to spread the good news
Singing gospel music with a hint of the blues
All of them determined to deliver the goods
Now you you hear the music comin out on the woods
Run devil run, the angel having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before i
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Celebration Day
Her face is cracked from smiling,
All the fears that shes been hiding,
And it seems pretty soon evrybodys gonna know.
And her voice is sore from shouting,
Cheering winners who are losing,
And she worries if their days are few
And soon theyll have to go.
*my, my, my, Im so happy,
Im gonna join the band,
We are gonna dance and sing and celebration,
We are in the promised land.
She hears them talk of new ways
To protect the home she lives in,
Then she wonders what its all about
When they break down the door.
Her name is brown or white or black,
You know her very well,
You hear her cries of mercy
As the winners toll the bell.
* chorus
There is a train that leaves the station
Heading for your destination,
But the price you pay has increased a dollar more.
Yes, it has!
And if you walk youre gonna get there
Tho it takes a little longer,
And when you see it in the distance
You will wring your hands and moan.
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Post Grand Final '2008
Don't want to hear or to see the Grand Final replay
We know the results it was played yesterday
The Hawks of Hawthorn beat the Cats of Geelong
The experts and punters this time got it wrong
The favourites as we know in finals sometimes get beat
And for the team, club and supporters no joy in defeat
But there's always next year a new football season begin
But as in life one has to lose for another to win
The Hawthorn Club and their fans celebrate
Their own piece of history they did create
At Glenferrie Oval flies the Premiership flag
The winners are happy the winners can brag
In football as in life one's loss is another one's gain
But next year the losers for glory they can try again.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Y-control
oh so all my lovin' go's
under the fog fog fog
and i will leave them all
well i'm just a poor little baby
cause well i will leave them all
oh so while your growing old
under the gun gun gun
and i will leave them all
well i'm just one poor baby
cause well i will leave them all
[Pre-chorus]
i wish i could buy back
the woman you stole
[Chorus]
Y-control, Y-control
you walk, walk, walk, walk, walk my winners
out of control, out of control
you walk, walk, walk, walk, walk my winners
out of control, out of control
you walk, walk, walk, walk, walk my winners
out of control, out of control
you walk, walk, walk, walk, walk my winners out
so all my lovin' go's
under the fog fog fog
and i will leave them all
well i'm just a poor little baby
cause well i will leave them all
song performed by by Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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