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Skipping
Rhymes
by
S. MacGowan

LinkExchangeMember


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SKIPPING RHYMES
IF you have something interesting e-mail it togregkk@friko.sos.com.pl

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The silence of night is shatterd,
with the mad mans celtic screams,
He saw me through my childhood,
And sent me too my dreams,
He lifted me he sank me,
He stood when I did fall,
And even at my lowest points,
He made me stand so tall,


There is no rules no graces,
As he stands before his crowd,
Belting out those celtic tunes,
wrapped in his regal shrowd,
No falseness or pretenses,
Of the rock stars passed before,
Cause hes just a man with a gift,
Who will give us so much more.


He haunts the streets of camden,
Like a vampire he does creep,
Cause he dont like the day light,
Its the time he likes to sleep,
Night times for the wild ones,
And those who live life fast,
His words do fill my heart,
And ever in me last.


by Dannyboy

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Ireland


The green and pleasant land,
So simple and so sweet,
When I think of the tranquillity,
It makes me want to weep,
The bright lights shine in London,
On the city's busy streets,
But it's going back to Ireland,
Would make my life complete.


I have no regrets,
I would do it all again,
Walk these dirty streets,
On a rock and roll campaign,
Green blood flows in this city's veins,
But sometimes it's not enough,
I miss the Shannon's sweet banks,
And my sweet aislings love.


I'll knock a few more tunes out,
And drink my fill of wine,
Get on the B&I ferry,
To the Ireland I call mine,
IM going home to find my peace,
And I'll go there as I left,
Pissed out my brains and smiling,
On the Donegal express.


I need to watch the mountains,
Sweep down to the shores,
And kiss this pleasant Ireland,
Full of drunken Irish whores,
I need the sense that made this man,
And history tells true.
Of ancient Irish bards,
Who brought this tale to you.


by Dannyboy

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The Crock


Where is my crock,
Where lies my peace,
I've searched this whole world over,
And found it at my feet,
I've drunk in every country,
And broke their fucking laws,
It's always been inside me,
Blessed by Irelands sea kissed shores.


I left the green and pleasant land,
For the bright lights and the fame,
To fill my glass with whiskey,
And make myself a name,
The words did flow,
The whiskey too,
I sang of Irelands past,
And even in my wildest times,
I thought my strength would last,


As times hourglass grows sleepy,
I sometimes feel the strain,
I curse these streets of London,
Where I was young and made my name,
And the label that blind people see,
And not the guy called Shane.


I have the peace,
And the gift I always held within,
The love of old Ireland,
That's not a fucking sin,
I'm going home to find my crock,
The one that never left,
I am a man a poet,
And as Shane my best.


These days I sing,
My eyes are shut,
It's no slur on me,
I have found my crock,
My peace of mind,
IM going home you see,
Enjoy the words,
And the rhymes,
Dance sing and be wild,
And bless the vision,
Of Ireland's poet child.


by Dannyboy

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Shaney Mac




A poet danced out from my dreams,
And filled my thoughts with Celtic screams,
With his child like smile and madman stare,
He did dance upon the devils chair.




Skipping rhymes litter his past,
And marry tunes played loud and fast,
Growled out lines sang strong and true,
Sent from his heart to me and you.




One word says ten as lines are wrote,
On cigarette packets in clouds of smoke,
From beer stained tables symphonies rise,
Bringing warmth to my heart and tears to my eyes.




Celebrating life with a passion true,
Irish history in punk folk tunes,
Streams of whisky, and Mayo dunes,
And late night drinking in pub back rooms.




Standing at his microphone stand,
With large Martini and fag in hand,
He belts out the tunes that brought his fame,
And made the man that we call Shane.............


by Dannyboy

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as i said

Its quick IM pissed and its as good as it gets

Fos prayer :#

It was 1962 and I was two years out of school.
When I got aboard the boatTrian to see Larry in Liverpool,
The day we pissed away I remember it so well,
Took a look at his two straws and new I was in hell,


It's a hard thing to leave the barman at filthys,
Touched with friendship and people not yet here,
The times you had chatted with your child like companions,
To leave dear old Fos sheds a pure tequila tear.


Though IM going far away and I know I may return here,
There is one thing one thing I will keep within me,
Deep in my heart a furious devotion,
For the love of Fos channel,
And the friends within me.


At the top of the Camden tube,
I wish Roger was standing,
The friends I see before me,
Were beautiful to me,
Away from all this friendship,
I dreamed of the future,
Waiting for Roger, Tequila and me.


But the years they pass so quickly now,
And I struggle to remember,
What was the last drink I put within me,
Deep in my heart a love for all Fos,
Camden tube station and Tequila in me.


hehe

by Dannyboy

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