That some day, emerging at last from the terrifying vision
I may burst into jubilant praise to assenting angels!
That of the clear-struck keys of the heart not one may fail
to sound because of a loose, doubtful or broken string!
That my streaming countenance may make me more resplendent
That my humble weeping change into blossoms.
Oh, how will you then, nights of suffering, be remembered
with love. Why did I not kneel more fervently, disconsolate
sisters, more bendingly kneel to receive you, more loosely
surrender myself to your loosened hair? We, squanderers of
Look at him there in his stovepipe hat,
His high-top shoes, and his handsome collar;
Only my Daddy could look like that,
And I love my Daddy like he loves his Dollar.
The screen door bangs, and it sounds so funny--
There he is in a shower of gold;
His pockets are stuffed with folding money,
His lips are blue, and his hands feel cold.
And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
andI mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you...
That I negotiate fog, bituminous
rain rining like teeth into the beggar's tin,
or two men jackaling a third in some alley
weirdly lit by a couch on fire, that I
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
Without you every morning would feel like going back to work after a holiday,
Without you I couldn't stand the smell of the East Lancs Road,
Without you ghost ferries would cross the Mersey manned by skeleton crews,
Without you I'd probably feel happy and have more money and time and nothing to do with it,
Without you I'd have to leave my stillborn poems on other people's doorsteps, wrapped in brown paper,
Without you there'd never be sauce to put on sausage butties,
Without you plastic flowers in shop windows would just be plastic flowers in shop windows,
Without you I'd spend my summers picking morosley over the remains of train crashes,
Without you white birds would wrench themselves free from my paintings and fly off dripping blood into the night,
Without you green apples wouldn't taste greener,
Time is moving so quickly
I'm falling behind,
I'm working so hard but
My life is passing me by,
My friends are all dating,
And one has got married
Two both have a baby
And a house they are sharing
And I -
In the world of trade and finance,
Where money flows like a river's dance,
The economy holds the reins,
And guides us through prosperity or pains.
With numbers and graphs, it speaks its mind,
And shows us how to be efficient and kind,
To balance the budgets, and reduce the debt,
And ensure that our lives are well set.
Some cry so loudly for this strange thing
Some fight with all they’ve got for the same thing
Some dream of it but haven’t seen
Some believe they will have it while they live on
A thing so powerful and so evil
A thing that turns the gentle into pride
Something so peaceful and arrogant
A thing that makes the humble command
Bills, Bills, Bills
They're Starting to Give Me the Ills
We have to Pay
Whatever They Say
And Watch How They Empty our Tills
You're a woman who has beauty but not much class.
What you need to do is to get your head out of your ass.
You only want a man who earns a million or more each year.
You rejected a man who's a janitor because you disliked his career.
The problem that you have is that no rich man has ever asked you out.
When I tell you that you're going to be an old maid, I have no doubt.
You are also poor and that is why rich men don't want you.
Many of them are just as superficial as you are and that's true.
If you and they could realize that rich people and poor people are equals, the world would be a better place.
Get your head out of your ass, being rich doesn't make people superior and believing that it does is a disgrace.