Lookin’ For Myself
You may be lookin' for me but I ain't lookin' for you
I'm still lookin' for myself and I ain't got time to look for nobody else
When I found who I am and where I am
And if you come round again maybe then baby maybe then
You wanna follow me but honey can't you see
I don't know where the hell I'm goin'
How can I know your mind when I don't even know my own
Now when the road gets tough or when I get enough
Or maybe when I reach the end maybe then baby maybe then
So stick around or go away whichever one you choose
You ain't got a single thing that I think I can use
And you and I ain't shared a thing that I'm afraid to lose
You say that you love me but I don't love you
I love someone I never seen as she lives in a place that I never been
When I realize it's all in my eyes
Just one great big patent maybe then maybe then
Maybe then maybe then maybe then but I won't say when
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Hector The Collector
Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring. Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boasts that wouldn't float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn't toot. Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
'Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul--
Loved them more then shining diamonds,
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Freakin’ At The Freaker’s Ball
Come on, baby, grease your lips,
Put on your hat, and shake your hips.
And don’t forget to bring your ships.
We’re goin’ to the Freakers Ball.
Shake your mojo, bang your gong,
Roll up somethin’ to take along.
Feels so good that it must be wrong
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.
All the fags and dykes, they’re boogyin’ together
Leather freaks all dressed in leather.
The greatest of the sadists and the masochists, too,
Screamin’ 'You hit me' and 'I’ll hit you'.
F.B.I. dancin’ with the junkies.
All the straights swingin’ with the funkies
’Cross the floor and up the wall.
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.
Hard hats and long hairs lovin’ each other.
Brother with sister, son with mother.
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Mama I'll Sing One For You
I've sung my songs on dusty roads and dirty city sidewalks
To sweatin' hard eyed brakemen, in the rail yards I rolled through
I've sung in blue wall papered rooms to girls I played at lovin'
Now Mama…I'll sing one song for you
Mama let me tell you that I've never lost the mem'ry
Of the tender things you told me, and the gentle things you'd do
And though I've grown away and other arms reach out to hold me
Mama…I'll sing one song for you
You say you'd like to have me here to help you through the winter
But you say it with a wistful smile like you already knew
That your boy's no good at stayin' still there's no words that need sayin'
And Mama… I'll sing one song for you
Tomorrow I'll be movin' out on them dusty country backroads
Some sweatin' hard eyed brakeman may hear a tune or two
And the girl in the blue wall papered room she'll ask where i been hidin'
And I'll tell 'em I stopped and sang one song for you
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Changing Of The Seasons
Oh the changing of the seasons it's a pretty thing to see
And though I find this balmy weather pleasin'
There's the wind come from tomorrow and I hear it callin' me
And I'm bound for the changing of the seasons
Oh it's blowin' in Chicago and it's snowin' up in Maine
And the Islands to the south are warm and sunny
And I've got to feel the earth shake and I gotta feel the rain
And I've got to know a taste of more than honey
So don't ask me where I'm goin' or how long I'm gonna be away
Don't make me give you all the hollow reasons
I'll think of you like summer and I might be back some day
When my heart miss the changing of the seasons
Oh it's blowin' in Chicago...
[ guitar ]
Oh it's nothing that you said and it ain't nothing that you done
And I wish I could explain you why I'm leavin'
But there's some men need the winter and there's some men need the sun
And there's some men need the changing of the seasons
Yeah it's blowin' in Chicago...
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Peace Proposal
Said General Clay to General Gore really must we fight this silly war
To kill and die in such a bore I quite agree said General Gore
Said General Gore to General Clay we could go to the beach today
And have some icecream on the way a grand idea said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore we'll build sand castles on the shore
Said General Gore we'll splash and play let's leave right now said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay but what if the sea's closed today
And what if the sand's been blown away the dreadful thought said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay I've always feared the ocean's spray
And we may drown it's true we may it chills my blood said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore my bathin' suit is slightly tore
We better go on with our war I quite agree said General Gore
The General Clay chanrged General Gore as bullets flew and cannons roared
And now at last there is no more of General Clay or General Gore
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Don't Give A Dose To The One You Love Most
Don’t give a dose to the one you love most.
Give her some marmalade...give her some toast.
You can give her the willies or give her the blues.
But the dose that you give her will get back to youse.
I once had a lady as sweet as a song.
She was my darlin’, and she was my dear.
But she had a dose, and she passed it along.
Now she’s gone, but the dose is still there.
So, don’t give a dose to the one you love most.
Give her some marmalade...give her some toast.
You can give her a partiridge up in a pear tree,
But the dose that you give her might get back to me.
So if you’ve got an itchin’...if you’ve got a drip,
Don’t sit there wishin’ for it to go ’way.
If there’s a thing on the tip of your thing or your lip,
Run down to the clinic today, and say...
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Workin’ It Out
Well I've been spendin' my life lookin' for a shoulder
To rest my head when the nights get colder
But the days are gettin' longer and I'm gettin' older
Been long time workin' it out
I been a long time workin' it out I been a long time workin' it out
I been a long time workin' it out I been a long time workin' it out
Now I got a little woman to scrub my floor
Right down the road I got me two or three more
And you know none of them knows about the one next door
I been a long time workin' it out
I been a long time workin' it out...
Well it was late one night when I stole a little money
I bought a couple of things and then gave them to my honey
And the judge said boy if you this that's funny
You got a long time workin' it out
I got a long time workin' it out...
[ guitar ]
Yeah well I look all around me and what do I see
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Someday’s Here
Well I've told you someday I'd have a lotta money
And you would see me grinnin' from ear to ear
Look in my pocket this ain't gabbage that I'm foldin' baby
Oh oh someday's here
And I told you someday I'll come driving up your driveway
In a Cadillac that stretched across from here to here
Look out your window this ain't no Mack truck I'm drivin' oh someday's here
Yeah you should have stucked with me just a little bit longer baby
When I was ragged and thin
You should have stuck with me till I got a little bit stronger baby
But you wanted the battle now you're up the creek without a paddle
Say I told you someday I'd have so many women
That if I try to count 'em it would take a year
Look in the back seat this ain't no football team I'm drivin' with
Aw someday's here
[ harmonica ]
You should have stuck with me...
Say I told you someday you come crawlin' to me
Beggin' pleadin' scratchin' cryin' crocodile tears
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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All About You
In the Grandville greyhound station in the lightly drizzlin' rain
Sittin' on my suitcase goin' quietly insane all about you babe all about you
All about you and then no feelin' double dealin' things that you do
Uh every man in Grandville says he knows you well
Burn your ears if you could hear the stories that they tell
All about you babe all about you
All about you and then no feelin' double dealin' things that you do
[ guitar ] They say you're picked up every Thursday in a rich man's limousine
And some cat in San Quentin keeps on havin' nasty dreams
All about you babe...
[ guitar ] And now the summer sun may burn my back and these tears may dim my sight
But before I die there's a dirty book I'm gonna write
All about you babe...
[ guitar ] Yeah the Grandville greyhound station
I waited on that night tell me you ain't gonna show
And I just go on sing this silly song
All about you tell the world all about you
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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