captainsunshine Posted April 3, 2008 Report Share Posted April 3, 2008 One day about 25 years from nowWhen we've all grown cold from wondering howOh, we'll all sit down at the city dumpAnd talk about the Goodle daysOh, you'll pass a joint and I'll pass the wineAnd anything good from down the lineAlot of good things went down one time Back in the Goodle daysAnd the good old days are past and goneAlot of good people have done gone onThat's my life when I sing this song about Back in the Goodle daysSometimes I like to think that we're almost doneAnd there ain't nothing left we can figure outAnd I guess it must have seemed alot more like thatBack in the Goodle daysBut when you gotta go, you gotta goThere's always somebody don't you knowHangin' round sayin' "Well, I told you so"Back in the Goodle daysOh we'll all join hands and we'll gather roundWhen that old guitar starts to make that soundAlot of good things went down downtownBack in the Goodle daysSqueezin' love with the people that we hadn't even metOut for anything we could getOh we did it then and we'll do it yetBack in the Goodle daysAnd the good old days are past and goneAlot of good people have done gone onThat's my life when I sing this song about Back in the Goodle days Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
captainsunshine Posted April 29, 2008 Report Share Posted April 29, 2008 Up on the Blue Ridge mountain, there I'll take my standUp on the Blue Ridge mountain, there I'll take my standA rifle on my shoulder, six-shooter in my handLord, Lord, I've been all around this worldLulu, my Lulu, come and open the doorLulu, my Lulu, come and open the doorBefore I have to walk on in with my old forty-fourLord, I've been all around this worldMama and papa, little sister makes threeMama and papa, little sister makes threeThey're coming in the morning, that's the last you'll see of meLord, lord, I've been all around this worldHang me, oh hang me, so I'll be dead and goneHang me, oh hang me, so I'll be dead and goneI wouldn't mind your hanging boys, but you wait in jail so longLord, I've been all around this worldUp on the Blue Ridge mountain, there I'll take my standUp on the Blue Ridge mountain, there I'll take my standA rifle on my shoulder, six-shooter in my handLord, Lord, I've been all around this world Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
phorbesie Posted May 9, 2008 Report Share Posted May 9, 2008 Patience runs out on the junkie The dark side hires another soul Did he steal his fate or earn itWas he force-fed, did he learn itWhatever happened to his precious self controlLike him I'm tired of trying to healThis tom-cat heart with which I'm blessedIs destruction loving's twinMust I choose to lose or winMaybe when my turn comes I will have guessedThese are the horns of the dilemmaWhat truth is proof against all liesWhen sacred fails before profane The wisest man is deemed insaneEven the purest of romantics compromiseWhat fixation feeds this fever As the full moon pales and climbsAm I living truth or rank deceiverAm I the victim or the crimeAm I the victim or the crimeAm I the victim or the crimeOr the crimeAnd so I wrestle with the angelTo see who'll reap the seeds I sowAm I the driver or the drivenWill I be damned to be forgivenIs there anybody here but me who needs to knowWhat it is to face this feverAs the full moon pales and climbsAm I living truth or rank deceiverAm I the victim or the crimeAm I the victim or the crimeAm I the victim or the crimeOr the crime Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
djmelbatoast Posted May 9, 2008 Report Share Posted May 9, 2008 My baby told me darlin'If you can't get a pardonBetter get a paroleI told her I'd be out by mornin'When the sun is downAnd when the money rolesOoooeeeeThat gal's the gal for meShe loves me tenderlyI walk with my brand new slacksAnd my hair slicked backDown to Donny's pierDonny wants me to buy him a bottleBut I spent all my moneyOn a chandelierAll forMy loving gal LenoreWho loves the elderlyA bottle of scotchA dime sack and a diamond watchWouldn't you like thatA bottle of ginA typewriter and a violinWouldn't you like thatOoooeeeeThat gal's the gal for meShe loves me tenderlyI left my blue-eyed lady And went wit Tony Mercedes To the gambling ringI lost my diamond watchBut in the parking lotI got it back againAh manYou've got to understandShe loves me tenderlyA bottle of scotchA dime sack and a diamond watchWouldn't you like thatA bottle of ginA typewriter and a violinWouldn't you like thatA sunny dayA shotgun and a ChevroletWouldn't you like thatA painted scene Of horses on a city greenWouldn't you like thatA microwave A pill box and the Jack of SpadesWouldn't you like that Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bradm Posted August 14, 2008 Report Share Posted August 14, 2008 Well I can sawA woman in twoBut you won't want to lookIn the box when I'm throughI can make loveAnd disappearFor my next trickI'll need a volunteerAloha,Brad Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SmoothedShredder Posted September 14, 2008 Report Share Posted September 14, 2008 She took me off my guard with disappointmentI got sucked inside of her apartmentShes got dried-up flowers, flaky skinA beaded necklace and a bottle of ginShes a nightmare hippy girlWith her skinny fingers fondlin my worldShes a whimsical, tragical beautySelf-conscious and a little bit moodyIts a new age let-down in my faceShes so spaced out and there aint no spaceShes got marijuana on the bathroom tileIm caught in a vortex, shes changin my styleShes a nightmare hippy girlWith her skinny fingers fondlin my worldShes a whimsical, tragical beautyUptight and a little bit snooty... oh, oh, oh ...Shes a magical, sparklin teaseShes a rainbow chokin the breezeYo, shes bustin out onto the sceneWith nightmare bogus poetryShes a melted avocado on the shelfShes the science of herselfShes spazzing out on a cosmic levelAnd shes meditating with the devilShes cooking salad for breakfastShes got tofu the size of texasShes a witness to her own gloryShes a never-ending storyShes a frolicking depressionShes a self-inflicted obsessionShes got a thousand lonely husbandsShes playin footsie in another dimensionShes a goddess milking her time for all that its worth Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
djmelbatoast Posted September 15, 2008 Report Share Posted September 15, 2008 Postcard from princess Last cigarette St. PatrickIn a west-end TorontoPolish bar backacheAnd I can't wait to see youCan't wait to be aloneAnd I'll call you tomorrow From Winnipeg, SaskatchewanThe drunken wine is keeping me from sleepingIt's changing the channels on my TVAnd I've forgotten all the pretty liesThat used to come so easily to mindAnd the stars aren't guiding us homeThey're just dragging us backwards and forwardsTill dawnFinish what you're doing Oh and kiss me on the mouthAnd call up all your friends For a quiet night outAnd this dance is no raceDeath is no dreamAnd she's treating the jukeboxLike a washing machineShake me from this feelingOh and wake me from the couchThe words are so close But I can't make them outAnd this house is so quietThis house is so stillWhen I told you that I love youAlways have and always willAnd the stars aren't guiding us homeThey're just dragging us backwards and forwardsTill dawn Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Esau. Posted September 16, 2008 Report Share Posted September 16, 2008 Burn my body in the nothern field and let the wind blow the ashes aroundThen you will know that my wounds have been healed 'cause Lord I'll be homeward boundLet the flames warm your hands let the glow light your wayThese gifts to you I bestowNo one's listening don't bother to prayif you do I'll never knowUp and up the smoke will roll like a cloud of frightened crowscarry my not so immortal soul up between the rowsSome words that are said can cut like a saw and my ears nearly bled at the soundI can't help prepare for the springtime thaw 'cause Lord I'll be homeward boundWhen frost turns to flowers and they all start to bloom and there's nothing left to holdtip one back and sing me a tune and never let the fire grow cold-W.E.W Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bradm Posted September 16, 2008 Report Share Posted September 16, 2008 If less is moreThen I've got everythingAloha,Brad Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Thorgnor Posted September 16, 2008 Report Share Posted September 16, 2008 Bass! How low can you go?Death row! What a brother know?Once again back it's the incredible,the uncannable, D! Public Enemy number ONE!Five-O said "Freeze!" and I got numb,can I tell'em that "I really never had a gun,it's just the wax that the Terminator X spun."Now they got me in a cell because a brother like me said "while,Farrakhan's a prophet and I think yououghty to listen to what he can say to you what you're gonna do is follow for now.To hell with what the people say,make a miracle!"I'm the lyrical!Black is back, fall in we're gonna win!Check it out! Yeah y'all, come on!Here we go again!Turn it up!Bring the noise! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
d_rawk Posted October 9, 2008 Report Share Posted October 9, 2008 Drinking in the morning sunBlinking in the morning sunShaking off the heavy oneHeavy like a loaded gunWhat made me behave that way?Using words I never sayI can only think it must be loveOh, anyway, it’s looking like a beautiful daySomeone tell me how I feelIt’s silly wrong but vivid rightOh, kiss me like the final mealYeah, kiss me like we die tonightCause holy cow, I love your eyesAnd only now I see the lightYeah, lying with me half-awakeOh, anyway, it’s looking like a beautiful dayWhen my face is chamois-creasedIf you think I’ll wink, I didLaugh politely at repeatsYeah, kiss me when my lips are thinCause holy cow, I love your eyesAnd only now I see you likeYeah, lying with me half-awakeStumbling over what to sayWell, anyway, it’s looking like a beautiful daySo throw those curtains wide!One day like this a year’d see me right! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
nattyMatty Posted October 17, 2008 Report Share Posted October 17, 2008 First KissShe drove a big ol' Lincoln with suicide doors(1)and a sewing machine in the backAnd a light bulb that looked like an alligator eggwas mounted up front on the hoodAnd she had an Easter bonnet that had been signed by Tennessee Ernie Ford(2)And she always had saw dust in her hairAnd she cut two holes in the back of her dressand she had these scapular wingsthat were covered with feathers and electrical tapeAnd when she got good and drunkshe would sing about Elkheart, IndianaWhere the wind is strong and folks mind their own businessAnd she had at least a hundred old baseballs that she'd taken from kidsAnd she collected bones of all kindsAnd she lived in a trailer under a bridgeAnd she made her own whiskey and gave cigarettes to kidsAnd she'd been struck by lightning seven or eight timesAnd she hated the mention of rainAnd she made up her own languageand she wore rubber bootsAnd she could fix anything with stringAnd her lips were like cherriesAnd she was stronger than any manAnd she smelled like gasoline and Rootbeer Fizz(3)And she put mud on a bee sting I got at the creekAnd she gave me my very first kissAnd she gave me my very first kissTalking 'bout my little KathleenShe's just a fine young thingSomeday she'll wear my ringMy little Kathleen(4)Written by: Tom Waits and Ken Nordine, 1991(5)Published by: Jalma Music (ASCAP), © 1992/ 2006Official release: Orphans (Bastards), (P) & © 2006 Anti Inc.Previously released as part of "Thousand Bing Bangs", Devout Catalyst (Ken Nordine), Grateful Dead Productions Inc., 1992. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
djmelbatoast Posted October 17, 2008 Report Share Posted October 17, 2008 (edited) Find himBind himTie him to a pole and crush hisFingersTo SplintersDrag him to a hole until heWakes up NakedClawing at the ceiling of his grave Edited October 17, 2008 by Guest Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
guigsy Posted October 18, 2008 Author Report Share Posted October 18, 2008 Many of us feel we walk alone without a friendNever communicating with the one who lives withinForgetting all about the one who never ever lets you downAnd you can talk to him anytime hes always aroundWhen you feel your lifes too hardJust go have a talk with godWell hes the only free psychiatrist thats known throughout the worldFor solving the problems of all men, women, little boys and girlsWhen you feel your lifes too hardJust go have a talk with god Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
d_rawk Posted April 30, 2009 Report Share Posted April 30, 2009 So check this - I just read the Pitchfork review of the new Pavement reissue.Stephen Malkumus is a genius, but let's face it, he's no Conor Oberst.I'm just saying.It's not 1994 anymore, duh. Did I show you my new mini skirt/leggings combo?You know what they say: ugly IS the new hot.I met her in the thrift shop bumping indie hip-hopCalculator wrist watch, Shins t-shirt and flip-flopsQueen of the hipster scene, straight out of Vice MagazineSocial outcast at 16, but now she lives her BoHo DreamShe came from Omaha to WilliamsburgShe loved Karen O and she had heardThat Brooklyn was the hipster meccaPacked her bags with her friend RebeccaSaid she had a thing for broke dudes in bandsWho lived by Union or by GrandSo we went down to the Bedford BarAnd bought a six dollar PBREzra. Go down Bedord, take a right on Metropolitan, then a right on Union,and then you're here. Just text me when you get here okay?Hipster girlCool by the numbers and she rocks my worldKnows all the indie bands you've never heardShe's my hipster girlShe thinks uncool stuff is mad cool, indie culture's fad ruleBut cool stuff is uncool, right? That's why Friday's Jewel nightShe reads books no one has read, laughs at jokes no one has saidSo ironic with her taste, her whole life is cut and pasteIt's a metrosexual romance, she wears my shirts and I wear her pantsWe play dodge ball, kid sports are coolWatching Spank Rock and McCarren Park PoolShe's my trust fund baby bohemian, her vegan humus keeps her thin,I love my L-Train girl it's true, she always goes down on the weekends tooBy the way, that pro-Bush shirt you're wearing is making me really uncomfortable,you may be wearing it ironically, but that doesn't give you the license to be obnoxious - youlook like a hardcore fascist redneck!Hipster girlCool by the numbers and she rocks my worldKnows all the indie bands you've never heardShe's my hipster girlDonnie Darko makes no sense!When did side-pony tails get cool again?Your fixed-gear bike makes no sense!I've been trying to do that dirty-chic thing, you know?Donnie Darko makes no sense!I am so BoHo right nowL train girls don't make sense (I don't get it, I don't get it!)Hipster girlCool by the numbers and she rocks my worldKnows all the indie bands you've never heardShe's my hipster girlHipster girlShe's got her latte and some spoken wordIronic statements on her vintage shirtsShe's my hipster girlI'll give it to you, Napoleon Dynamite was funny, but "Vote for Pedro" t-shirts atWal-Mart? What are they thinking. Wal-Mart is evil. Their health care is totally inadequate.Didn't you see the screening of that Robert Greenwald movie at Pete's Candy Store? It was so sad.What is with all of these hipsters taking over Williamsburg?hear it here Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bradm Posted January 13, 2010 Report Share Posted January 13, 2010 I take my medicine on my kneesTwice a day, but lately threeIt keeps the devil from my doorAnd it makes me rich, and it makes me poorAloha,Brad Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bradm Posted January 14, 2010 Report Share Posted January 14, 2010 Well, I may not be crazyBut I got one Hell of a startSomebody pick up the piecesI think I'm fallin' apartAloha,Brad Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Esau. Posted February 5, 2010 Report Share Posted February 5, 2010 Up the thirteen steps of the gallows walked the condemned manAnd time passes very quickly when death is nearAfter having completed the first step, the condemned man knew there were but twelve leftBefore he would meet death and his soul would leave his bodyAnd after having completed the thirteen steps the condemned man was met by a giant cloaked figureAnd with a quick flick of the wrist the man was deadAnd his soul left his body and went down down downTo a place we laughingly refer to as hellBut none of us will ever go there because we're all far too groovyThe man's body was left to rot on the gallowsAnd a great multitude of black birds came and picked the man's corpse apartPiece by pieceLimb by limbUntil nothing remainedAnd his blood melted into the ground belowThe gallows was made from a tree created by GodThe man's blood dripped into the ground which was created by GodEven the giant cloaked figure which was the man's own end was created by GodEven the man's soul which went down was created by GodEven the black birds which picked the man's corpse apart were created by GodAND WHERE WAS GOD? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
d_rawk Posted February 18, 2010 Report Share Posted February 18, 2010 Fack it, nobody reads this thread but the people posting. It's cathartic. Here goes:Some days I just wanna up and call it quitsI feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricksEverytime I go to get up, I just fall in pissMy life's like one great big ball of shitIf I could just put it all into all I spitInstead of always trying to swallow itInstead of staring at this wall of shitWhile I sit, writer's block, sick of all this shitCan't call it shit, all I know is I'm about to hit the wallIf I have to see another one of her alcoholic fitsThis is it, last straw, that's all, that's itI ain't dealing with another fuckin' politicI'm like a skillet bubbling until it filters upI'm about to kill it, I can feel it building upBlow this building up, I've concealed enoughMy cup runneth over, I done filled it up,The pen explodes and busts, ink spills my gutsYou think all I do is stand here and feel my nuts,Well I'm-a show you what, you gon' feel my rush,You don't feel it, then it must be too real to touch,Peel the Dutch, I'm about to tear shit upGoosebumps, yeah, I'm-a make your hair sit upYeah sit up, I'm-a tell you who I beI'm-a make you hate me, 'cause you ain't meYou wait, it ain't too late to finally seeWhat you closed-minded fucks were too blind to seeWhoever finds me's gonna get a finder's feeOut this world, ain't no one out they mind as meYou need peace of mind? Here's a piece of mineAll I need's a line,But sometimes I don't always find the words to rhymeTo express how I'm really feeling at that time, yeahSometimes, sometimes, sometimesJust sometimes, it's always meHow dark can these hallways be?The clock strikes midnight, one, two, then half past threeThis half-assed rhyme, with this half-assed piece of paper,I'm desperate at my deskIf I could just get the rest of this shit off my chest againStuck in a slump, can't think of nothingFuck I'm stumped, but wait, here comes something -Nope, it's not good enough, scribble it out, new pad, crinkle it up and throw the shit out.I'm fizzlin' now, thought I figured it out.Ball's in my court, but I'm scared to dribble it out.I'm afraid, but why am I afraid, why am I a slave to this trade?Cyanide I spit to the grave, real enough to rile you upWant me to flip it, I can rip it any style you wantI'm-a switch hitter bitch, Jimmy Smith ain't a quitterI'm-a sit it here 'til I get enough of me to finally hitA fucking boiling point, put some oil on your joints,Flip the coin bitch, come get destroyed,An MC's worst dream, I make 'em tense,They hate me, see me and shake like a chain-link fence,By the looks of 'em you would swear that jaws was comin',By the screams of 'em, you would swear I'm sawin' someone,By the way they running, you would swear the law was comin',It's now or never, and tonight it's all or nothing,Mama, Jimmy keeps leaving on us, he said he'd be back, "he pinky promised, I don't think he's honest" : I'll be back baby, I just gotta beat this clock.Fuck this clock, I'm-a make 'em eat this watch,Don't believe me? Watch, I'm-a win this race,And I'm-a come back and rub my shit in your face, bitch!I found my niche, you gonna hear my voice,'Til you're sick of it, you ain't gonna have a choice, if I gotta scream till I have half a lung,if I have half a chance I'll grab it.Rabbit, run... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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