the winner shel silverstein

To think of all you'll get by bein' a winner. The Winner Poem by Shel Silverstein - Poem Hunter. And that's the facts of life, when you're a winner. April is Poetry Month and we’re celebrating with some of our favorite Shel Silverstein poems from all your favorite, 21 Short and Sweet Shel Silverstein Poems That’ll Bring You Back to Childhood. And this jacket's kinda padded up where my right shoulder sags,

Yeah, he's a winner." © Poems are the property of their respective owners. And I should be retired now, rockin' on my lawn, Let's enjoy the poem "The Winner" written by poet Shel Silverstein on Rhymings.Com!

All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge... Recite this poem (upload your own video or voice file). Nel corso della sua vita ha rivolto la sua passione anche nei confronti della musica fin dal 1960. The Winner by Shel Silverstein. And I knew that if I hit him right, I could knock him off that stool. 'N' if it weren't for this glass eye of mine, I'd shed a happy tear

From pickin' fights with thunderstorms and chargin' into trees. But I got her, boy, and that's what makes me a winner. Winner, Shel Silverstein, Bobby Bare A poem by Shel Silverstein, ... Shel Silverstein, Bobby Bare A poem by Shel Silverstein, as sung by Bobby Bare … Nel 1980 ha pubblicato un album di musica country intitolato The Great Conch Train Robbery, mentre nel 1990 è coautore della colonna sonora del film Cartoline dall'inferno, grazie al quale ha ricevuto la nomination all'Oscar alla migliore canzone (I'm Checkin' Out) e al Golden Globe nella stessa categoria. But everybody said, "Watch out, that's Tiger Man McCool. 'N' if it weren't for this glass eye of mine, I'd shed a happy tearTo think of all you'll get by bein' a winner.I got arthuritic elbows, boy, I got dislocated knees,From pickin' fights with thunderstorms and chargin' into trees.And my nose been broke so often I might lose it if I sneeze.And, son, you say you still wanna be a winner?My spine is short three vertebrae and my hip is screwed together.My ankles warn me every time there'll be a change in weather.Guess I kicked too many asses, and when the kicks all get together,They sure can slow you down when you're a winner.My knuckles are so swollen I can hardly make a fist.Who would have thought old Charlie had a blade taped to his wrist?And my blind eye's where he cut me, and my good eye's where he missed.Yeah, you lose a couple of things when you're a winner.My head is just a bunch of clumps and lumps and bumps and scarsFrom chargin' broken bottles and buttin' crowded bars.And this hernia, well, it only proves a man can't lift a car.But you're expected to do it all when you're a winner.Got a steel plate inside my skull, underneath this store-bought hair.My pelvis is aluminum from takin' ladies' dares.And if you had a magnet, son, you could lift me off my chair.I'm a man of steel, but I'm rustin', what a winner.I got a perforated ulcer, I got strictures and incisions.My prostate's barely holdin' up from those all-night collisions.And I'll have to fight two of you because of my double vision.You're lookin' sick, son, that ain't right for a winner.Winnin' that last stock-car race cost me my favorite toes.Winnin' that factory foreman's job, it browned and broke my nose.And these hemorrhoids come from winnin' all them goddamn rodeos.Sometimes it's a pain in the butt to be a winner.In the war, I got the Purple Heart, that's why my nerves are gone.And I ruined my liver in drinkin' contests, which I always won.And I should be retired now, rockin' on my lawn,But you losers keep comin' on, makin' me a winner.When I walk, you can hear my pelvis rattle, creak and crackFrom my great Olympic Hump-Off with that nymphomaniac,After which I spent the next six weeks in traction on my back,While whe walked off smilin', leavin' me the winner.Now, as I kick in your family jewels, you'll notice my left leg drags,And this jacket's kinda padded up where my right shoulder sags,And there's a special part of me I keep in this paper bag,And I'll show it to you, if you want to see all of the winner.So I never play the violin and I seldom dance or ski.They say there never was a hero brave and strong as me.But when you're this year's hero, son, you're next year's used-to-be.And that's the facts of life, when you're a winner.Now, you remind me a lot of my younger days with your knuckles clenchin' white.But, boy, I'm gonna sit right here and sip this beer all night.And if there's somethin' you gotta prove by winnin' some silly fight,Well, OK, I quit, I lose, son, you're the winner.

My head is just a bunch of clumps and lumps and bumps and scars

He's had a whole lot of fights, and he always come out the winner. Nel 1963, su suggerimento del collega Tomi Ungerer, viene presentato a Ursula Nordstrom, che lo convince ad iniziare a scrivere racconti e storie ber bambini. (EN) Opere di Shel Silverstein, su Open Library, Internet Archive. But I left that person cursin', nursin' seven broken bones. Si tratta di un testo di satira rivolta ai game show: i concorrenti rischiano la vita scegliendo tra due porte, dietro le quali vi è una bella donna oppure una tigre. Sometimes it's a pain in the butt to be a winner. (EN) Shel Silverstein, su Enciclopedia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.(EN) Shel Silverstein, su Find a Grave. And y'know...I guess that makes me...a winner. So I never play the violin and I seldom dance or ski. The Worlds Greatest Smoke Off Poem by Shel Silverstein - Poem Hunter. And my nose been broke so often I might lose it if I sneeze.

Sheldon Allan "Shel" Silverstein (Chicago, 25 settembre 1930 – Key West, 10 maggio 1999) è stato un poeta, cantautore, disegnatore, drammaturgo, paroliere e scrittore statunitense. 2 Winner (Shel Silverstein) The hulk of a man with a beer in his hand looked like a drunk old fool, And I knew that if I hit him right, I could knock him off that stool. Nato in Illinois in una famiglia ebrea, ha studiato arte fino al 1953 iniziando anche a scrivere, anno in cui ha servito l'esercito in Giappone e Corea. From chargin' broken bottles and buttin' crowded bars. Click here for more Shel Silverstein Books! But when you're this year's hero, son, you're next year's used-to-be. I love this poem...but where's the rest of it....Keff from East Affganastan, and that rare Alaska Flore. But I'd had myself about five too many, and I walked up tall and proud, He's had a whole lot of fights, and he always come out the winner. But everybody said, "Watch out -- that's Tiger Man McCool. In the laid back California town of sunny San RaphaelLived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake,You probably knew her wellShe was stoned 15 of her 18 yearsAnd her story was widely told,That she could smoke 'em fasterThan any dude could rollWell her legend finally reached New YorkThat grove street walk up flatWhere dwelt the Calistoge Kid,a beatnik from the pastHe'd been rolling dope since time beganAnd he took a cultured toke and said'Jim, I can rollem faster than any chick can smoke'So a note gets sent to San RaphaelFor the Championship of the WorldThe Kid demands a smoke off'Well bring him on' sayz Pearl'I'll grind his fingers off his hands,he'll roll until he drops'Sayz Calistoge 'I'll smoke that chick 'til she blows up and pops'So they rent out Yankee StadiumAnd the word is quickly spreadCome one come all, who walk or crawlTickets just two lids a hitAnd from every town in HamletOver land and sea they speedThe Worlds greatest dopersWith the Worlds greatest weedHashishes from MoroccoHemp smokers from PeruAnd the Shashnicks from Bagoon, who smoke the deadly PugarooAnd those who call it 'Light of Life'And those that call it 'Boo'See the dealers and their ladiesWearing turquoise,lace, and leatherSee the narcos and the closet smokersPuffing all togetherFrom the teenies who smoke legalTo the ones who've done some timeTo the old man who smoked reefer, back before it was a crimeAnd the 'Grand Old House That Ruth Built'Is filled with the smokes and criesOf 50,000 screamin' heads, all stoned out of their mindsAnd they play the National AnthemAnd the crowd lets out a roarAs the spotlight hits the Kid and PearlReady for their smokin' warrrr...At a table piled up high with grass, high as a mountain peakJust tops and buds of the rarest flowersNot one stem, branch or seedI mean a Maui, a Wowie, a Panama Red, Alcopoco Gold. While whe walked off smilin', leavin' me the winner. The hulk of a man with a beer in his hand looked like a drunk old fool, And I knew that if I hit him right, I could knock him off that stool. My knuckles are so swollen I can hardly make a fist. In alcuni lavori ha usato il nome Uncle Shelby.

I faced his back and I faced the fact that he'd never stooped or bowed. Who would have thought old Charlie had a blade taped to his wrist? My spine is short three vertebrae and my hip is screwed together. He said, "Boy, I see you're a scrapper, so just before you fall, They left off more than half, and what's here is not very well done. And I ruined my liver in drinkin' contests, which I always won. Ha avuto un altro figlio di nome Matthew da Sarah Spencer. They say there never was a hero brave and strong as me. Let's enjoy the poem "The Winner" written by poet Shel Silverstein on Rhymings.Com! He's had a whole lot of fights, and he always come out the winner. He's had a whole lot of fights, and he always come out the winner -- yeah, he's a winner." Two One-Act Plays, prodotto nel 1989. So I stumbled from that barroom not so tall and not so proud,

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