“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Waiting...
If you're willing to wait for the love of your life
Please wait by the line
And you know dispersive prisms rainbow
But my native optimism isn't broken by the light
The idea of life without company fell suddenly
It crashed through the ceiling on me
And pinned me to the pine
And layer upon layer of hope and doubt
Will crush bones to oil in time
Are you a pusher or are you a puller?
I pull the weight towards me
And I lack the zest of a lemon, looking forward
Unless I have a woman pushing me
A canopy of red-billed quelea
Passed over the blue
A five hour flock, not one dives down
To tell you the truth
As night falls, a quelea crawls
And whispers on his last wings
So abundant are we, left alone I shall be
But a waited phone never rings
Are you a pusher or are you a puller?
I pull the weight towards me
And I lack the zest of a lemon, looking forward
Unless I have a woman pushing me
Are you a pusher or are you a puller?
We could hold hands for fifteen minutes in the sauna
We could hold hands for a pool length under water
I can push and pull
Her
If you're willing to wait for the love of your life
Please wait by the line
Many a lassie as everyone knows'll Try to be married before twenty five So she'll agree to most any proposal All he mus' be is a man an' alive
I hold a dream an' there's no compromisin' I know there's one certain laddie for me One day he'll come walkin' o'er the horizon But should he not, then an old maid I'll be
Foolish, ye may say Foolish I will stay
Waitin' for my dearie, an' happy am I To hold my heart till he comes strollin' by When he comes, my dearie, one look an' I'll know That he's the dearie I've been wantin' so
Though I'll live forty lives till the day he arrives I'll not ever, ever grieve For my hopes will be high that he'll come strollin' by For ye see, I believe
That there's a laddie weary and wanderin' free Who's waitin' for his dearie, –– me!
What do ye do while ye're waitin' around For your lad to come your way? Well, when no one is lookin', ye kneel on the ground An' ye pray an' ye pray an' ye pray
But when lassies sit an' have no men Oh, how long becomes the night But I fear the night is longer When the lad's no' right
Waitin' for my dearie is sweeter to me Than wooin' any laddie on the lea Dreamin' of your dearie an' idlin' the day That's how I am. an’how I'll ever stay
Though I'll live forty lives till the day he arrives I'll not ever, ever grieve For my hopes will be high that he'll come strollin' by For ye see, I believe
That there's a laddie weary an' wanderin' free Who's waitin' for his dearie, –– me!
~ from “BRIGADOON” (1947) - words by Alan Jay Lerner, music by Frederick Lowe
"Behind every great, distinguished and highly successful man is a woman who is absolutely flabbergasted."
ReplyDelete~ Eponymous Balderdash
Wanna know what's worse than a male chauvinistic pig? A woman that won't do what she's told.
ReplyDelete__ Waitin' For My Dearie ___
ReplyDeleteMany a lassie as everyone knows'll
Try to be married before twenty five
So she'll agree to most any proposal
All he mus' be is a man an' alive
I hold a dream an' there's no compromisin'
I know there's one certain laddie for me
One day he'll come walkin' o'er the horizon
But should he not, then an old maid I'll be
Foolish, ye may say
Foolish I will stay
Waitin' for my dearie, an' happy am I
To hold my heart till he comes strollin' by
When he comes, my dearie, one look an' I'll know
That he's the dearie I've been wantin' so
Though I'll live forty lives till the day he arrives
I'll not ever, ever grieve
For my hopes will be high that he'll come strollin' by
For ye see, I believe
That there's a laddie weary and wanderin' free
Who's waitin' for his dearie, –– me!
What do ye do while ye're waitin' around
For your lad to come your way?
Well, when no one is lookin', ye kneel on the ground
An' ye pray an' ye pray an' ye pray
But when lassies sit an' have no men
Oh, how long becomes the night
But I fear the night is longer
When the lad's no' right
Waitin' for my dearie is sweeter to me
Than wooin' any laddie on the lea
Dreamin' of your dearie an' idlin' the day
That's how I am. an’how I'll ever stay
Though I'll live forty lives till the day he arrives
I'll not ever, ever grieve
For my hopes will be high that he'll come strollin' by
For ye see, I believe
That there's a laddie weary an' wanderin' free
Who's waitin' for his dearie, –– me!
~ from “BRIGADOON” (1947) - words by Alan Jay Lerner, music by Frederick Lowe
oh boy..I best sit this one out..LOL
ReplyDeleteSorry to scare you off, Angel! ;)
ReplyDelete