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Allan James Saywell

Saga Of A Sexy Seahorse

Randy Andy the Australian Pot bellied Seahorse
Danced his dance of love
Seven times a day
His color changed
As he danced his exotic dance
In perfect erotic time
The bigger his belly
The saucier he became
With Alison Seahorse Nelly
Seahorses flirt all day
Just like humans
With ever whom they choose
They dance their dance all day

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Nowhere Man

Many, many years ago
He was cast out on his own
Freedom come, freedom go
Nowhere to lay his head
No place for him to know
He walked all day
He walked all night
Till he felt a morning glow
His pockets peeled out
Like ears of corn
But he knew he could kiss the sun
Feel as pure as a Nun
Freedom always has a price
Nobody knew, nobody cared
Whether he had a nickle or a dime
Nobody knew his name

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Little Red Apples

Out of Mother Nature
Came little red Apples'
That were grown
In the Garden of time
But God don't like
Little red Apples'
From which the Devil does dine
Women love to eat little red Apples'
In the Summer time
Men desire little red Apples'
Any old time
Winter, Summer, especially
When the Sun is high
In a clear blue Sky
The Devil does love
Little red Apples'
Man does love
Little red Apples'
Women love
Little red Apples'

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Martyr's Guns And Roses

Young lives are full of promise
Old lives are full of wisdom
Guns have the potential to commit murder
Explosives' tears apart the temple
Disconects' the body
Human blood becomes a river
What cause is worth taking the lives
Of Men Women and children
What reward awaits the human being
Who seeks to murder
In the name of the Father
Who is this imposter, who sits in a rose garden
Holding in his hand a bouquet of death

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A Christmas Reminisce

Memories are made at Christmas time
Christmas time is memory time
Seasons come, seasons go
Christmas comes just like a thought
And it reads just like a book
Place all your happy memories
In your Christmas basket
Wrap it with pretty paper
Oh so bright, wrap it tight
Many days have faded with the year
Looking back brings a tear
Yes reminisce with total joy
Remember the door that opens wide
So we can gaze on Christmas day
Oh happy day, oh happy day

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Brooms Witches And Mothers

Witches have broom's
When i a child
Mother's had broom's
Mother's ran with broom's
Mother's ran fast with broom's
I was a very swift boy
I had to run from many broom's
Sometimes mother would strike with broom
Therefore throwing herself of balance
As i ran i would laugh
Like a kookaburra
She would become a angry mother with broom
She would call for me to stop running
So she could give me her broom
I would keep running
For i did not like broom's
Witches like broom's
Mother's like broom's

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Woman in Red

If only you could have seen
My Woman in red
He caught his first sight of her
Behind a brick kiln shed
Though she appeared a shadow in the haze
Enslaved for ever he would be
Should anything stop a man from his work
Duties he would never shirk
His gaze transfixed on the way she walked
She floated past
Left him with only a stare
He could see her better
Only for the glare
If only he could have said
To the woman in red
The thoughts that were running
Through his head
Long of stride, strong of thigh
She continued to pass him by
The kind of woman that make strong men cry

[...] Read more

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Beautiful Irish Dreamer

Beautiful dreamer who wake in the morn
Love and sweet passion, wait here with the dawn
Sounds of the morning, come with the day
Ill' kiss your sweet lips, here in the hay
Beautiful dreamer the Queen, for whom i do long
Lie in the soft sunlight, on this beautiful day
Soft is your heartbeat, that beat so strong
Beautiful dreamer, for whom i do long
Beautiful dreamer, who bathe in the sea
Like Mermaids sunbaking, on a rock made for thee
Over the water my love is born free
Beautiful dreamer girl of my song
Beautiful dreamer for whom i do long
Life is so sad now, now that your gone
Love has left us gone with the dawn
Beautiful dreamer, let me dream on
Beautiful dreamer, please wait for me

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The Orange And The Green

There were two Soccer teams
They were Irish and were called
The Orange and the Green
But alas, every time they played
They brawled and fought
And the playing of Soccer
Counted less then nought
When the match was over
They always travelled home by Bus
They were found early in the morn
Scattered and battered and most surely
All of them were dead
Much deader then all the dead
The police were baffled
As to how it all came about
The only clue was the Orange Mascot
So named Irish the sole survivor of the crash
He sat lonely by the road
Detective Green who was in charge
Of the investigation

[...] Read more

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