Friday Poetry Corner : The Devil We Know ...

[Chantho]

I thought from the title you meant this more famous "poem":

<
Better the devil you know
Better the devil you know
Woh
Better the devil you know
Better the devil you know
Woh woh woh

[1:]
Say you won't leave me no more
I'll take you back again
No more excuses no, no
'Cos I've heard them all before
A hundred times or more

[CHORUS:]
I'll forgive and forget
If you say you'll never go
'Cos its true what they say
It's better the devil you know

[2:]
Woh woh woh
Our love wasn't perfect I know
I think I know the score
If you say you love me, oh boy
I can't ask for more
I'll come if you should call

[CHORUS:]

[BRIDGE:]
I'll be here every day
Waiting for your love to show
Yes it's true what they say
It's better the devil you know

Woh woh woh
I'll take you back
I'll take you back again
I'll take you back
I'll take you back again

[1:]

[CHORUS:]

[BRIDGE:]

[CHORUS:]
[Fade]
>

[BrilloPad]

Is that the message that's going in your Valentines Card?

Did you see the link I put up to the tesco's value valentine card?

[OwlHoot]

To be a farmer's boy

One day when I was out of work, a job I went to seek
To be a Farmer's Boy
At last I found an easy job at a half-a-crown a week -
To be a Farmer's Boy.
The farmer says 'I think I've got the very job for you,
Your duties will be light for this is all you've got to do;
Rise at three every morn, milk the cow with the crumpled horn,
Feed the pigs, clean the sty, teach the pigeons the way to fly,
Plough the fields, mow the hay, help the cocks and the hens to lay,
Sow the seed, tend the crops, chase the fly from the turnip tops,
Clean the knives, black the shoes, scrub the kitchen and sweep the flues,
Help the wife, empty the pots, grow the cabbages and shallots.
Make the bed, dust the coal, tune the gramophone,
Then if there's no more work to do - The rest of the day's your own.'

So I scratched my head, I thought it would be absolutely prime
To be a Farmer's Boy
The farmer says, 'Of course you'll have to do some overtime
When you're a Farmer's boy.
Said he, 'The duties that I've given you, you'll be quickly through,
So I've been thinking out a few more things that you can do;
Skim the milk, make the cheese, chop the meat for the sausages,
Bath the kids, mend their clothes, use your dial to scare the crows,
In the milk put the chalk, shave the knobs off the pickled pork,
Shoe the horse, rake the coal, take the cat for a midnight stroll,
Cook the food, scrub the stairs, teach the parrot to say his prayers,
Roast the joint, bake the bread, shake the feathers up in the bed,
When the wife has got the gout, rub her funny-bone,
Then if there's nothing else to do - The rest of the day's your own.

I thought it was a shame to take his money, you can bet
For being a Farmer's Boy,
And so I wrote my duties down in case I should forget
That I was a Farmer's Boy.
I took all night to write them down, I didn't go to bed,
Somehow I got them all mixed up for this is how it read;
R
Scrub the wife every day, teach the nanny-goat how to lay,
Shave the cat, tune the cheese, fit the tights on the sausages,
Bath the pigs, break the pots, beat the kids with a few carrots,
Roast the horse, dust the bread, put the cocks and the hens to bed,
Boots and shoes black with chalk, shave the hair on the pickled pork,
But all the rest I forgot, somehow it has flown,
But I got the sack this morning, so - The rest of my life's my own.

[thunderlizard]

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead.
Some say the devil is dead and buried in Killarney.
More say he rose again, more say he rose again,
more say he rose again, and joined the British army.

[DodgyAgent]

Not exactly Wordsworth are you, luv!

Some birds find me quite charming

[Denny]

Roses are red
violets are blue
when I get my kn*b out
I think of you

Not exactly Wordsworth are you, luv!

[DodgyAgent]

Roses are red
violets are blue
when I get my kn*b out
I think of you

[Denny]

Of Course I Love Ya Darling
You're A Bloody Top Notch Bird
And When I Say Ur Gorgeous
I Mean Every Single Word

So Ya Bum Is On The Big Side
I Dont Mind A Bit Of Flab
It Means That When I'm Ready
Theres Somethin There To Grab

So Your Belly Isnt Flat No More
I Tell Ya, I Dont Care
So Long As When I Cuddle Ya
I Can Get My Arms Around There

No Sheila Who Is Your Age
Has Nice Round Perky Breasts
They Just Gave Into Gravity
But I Know Ya Did Ya Best

Im Tellin Ya The Truth Now
I Never Tell Ya Lies
I Think Its Very Sexy
That Youve Got Dimples On Ya Thighs

I Swear On Me Nannas Grave Now
The Moment That We Met
I Thought U Was As Good As
I Was Ever Gonna Get

No Matter Wot U Look Like
Ill Always Love Ya Dear
Now Shut Up While The Footys On
And Get Me Another Beer!

Is that the message that's going in your Valentines Card?

[BrilloPad]

Of Course I Love Ya Darling
You're A Bloody Top Notch Bird
And When I Say Ur Gorgeous
I Mean Every Single Word

So Ya Bum Is On The Big Side
I Dont Mind A Bit Of Flab
It Means That When I'm Ready
Theres Somethin There To Grab

So Your Belly Isnt Flat No More
I Tell Ya, I Dont Care
So Long As When I Cuddle Ya
I Can Get My Arms Around There

No Sheila Who Is Your Age
Has Nice Round Perky Breasts
They Just Gave Into Gravity
But I Know Ya Did Ya Best

Im Tellin Ya The Truth Now
I Never Tell Ya Lies
I Think Its Very Sexy
That Youve Got Dimples On Ya Thighs

I Swear On Me Nannas Grave Now
The Moment That We Met
I Thought U Was As Good As
I Was Ever Gonna Get

No Matter Wot U Look Like
Ill Always Love Ya Dear
Now Shut Up While The Footys On
And Get Me Another Beer!

[Marina]

A Passing Glimpse

Robert Lee Frost (1874 - 1963)

To Ridgely Torrence
On Last Looking into His 'Hesperides'


I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.

I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.

I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--

Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.

Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?

Heaven gives its glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.

[AlfredJPruffock]

Are you talking about me?

Speak Of The Devil !

Note: An Exciseman was a collector of excise taxes on certain home commodities and licences for certain trades.

They were generally not well liked by the population.


Robert Burns - The Devil Is Away With The Exciseman

Chorus
The Devil is away, the Devil is away,
The Devil is away with the Exciseman!
He has danced away, he has danced away,
He has danced away with the Exciseman!


The Devil came fiddling through the town,
And danced away with the Exciseman!
And every wife cries: -'Old Mahoun (Devil),
I wish you luck of (with) the prize, man!

' We will make our malt, and we will brew our drink,
We will laugh, sing, and rejoice, man,
And many good thanks to the big black Devil,
That danced away with the Exciseman!

' There is threesome reels, there is foursome reels,
There is hornpipes and strathspeys, man,
But the one best dance ever came to the land
Was The Devil Is Away with the Exciseman!'




Chorus
The Deil's awa, the Deil's awa,
The Deil's awa wi' th' Exciseman!
He's danc'd awa, he's danc'd awa,
He's danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman!
1.
The Deil cam fiddlin thro' the town,
And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman!
And ilka wife cries: -'Auld Mahoun,
I wish ye luck o' the prize, man!
2.
' We'll mak our maut, and we'll brew our drink,
We'll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man,
And monie braw thanks to the meikle black Deil,
That danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman!
3.
' There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man,
But the ae best dance ere cam to the land
Was The Deil's Awa wi' th' Exciseman!'

[Lucifer Box]

Are you talking about me?

[AlfredJPruffock]

Satan, being thus confined to a vagabond, wandering, unsettled condition, is without any certain abode; for though he has, in consequence of his angelic nature, a kind of empire in the liquid waste or air, yet this is certainly part of his punishment, that he is ... without any fixed place, or space, allowed him to rest the sole of his foot upon.


Daniel Defoe, The History of the Devil (1722)


O what a canty world were it,
Would pain and care and sickness spare it;
And Fortune favour worth and merit
As they deserve;
And aye rowth o' roast-beef and claret,
Syne, who then would starve?


Ah Nick! ah Nick! it is na fair,
First showing us the tempting ware,
Bright wines, and bonie lasses rare,
To put us daft
Syne weave, unseen, thy spider snare
O hell's damned waft.


But lest you think I am uncivil
To plague you with this draunting drivel,
Abjuring a' intentions evil,
I quat my pen,
The Lord preserve us frae the devil!
Amen! Amen!

Robert Burns The Devil's away wi' the Revenue Man