Andy D
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« on: 01:24:53, 18-06-2007 » |
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Post any lyrics you like from any song whatsoever, which are (vaguely) connected to the previous ones. I'll start with:
Born under a bad sign. I've been down since I began to crawl. If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all.
Bad luck and trouble's my only friend, I've been down ever since I was ten.
Born under a bad sign. I've been down since I began to crawl. If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all.
You know, wine and women is all I crave. A big bad woman's gonna carry me to my grave.
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MabelJane
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« Reply #1 on: 20:18:25, 18-06-2007 » |
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The tax man's taken all my dough, And left me in my stately home, Lazing on a sunny afternoon. And I can't sail my yacht, He's taken everything I've got, All I've got's this sunny afternoon.
Save me, save me, save me from this squeeze. I got a big fat mama trying to break me. And I love to live so pleasantly, Live this life of luxury, Lazing on a sunny afternoon. In the summertime In the summertime In the summertime
My girlfriend's run off with my car, And gone back to her ma and pa, Telling tales of drunkenness and cruelty. Now I'm sitting here, Sipping at my ice cold beer, Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
Help me, help me, help me sail away, Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay. Cause I love to live so pleasantly, Live this life of luxury, Lazing on a sunny afternoon. In the summertime In the summertime In the summertime
Ah, save me, save me, save me from this squeeze. I got a big fat mama trying to break me. And I love to live so pleasantly, Live this life of luxury, Lazing on a sunny afternoon. In the summertime In the summertime In the summertime
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« Last Edit: 20:49:42, 18-06-2007 by MabelJane »
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Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.
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Andy D
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« Reply #2 on: 20:29:30, 18-06-2007 » |
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In the summertime when the weather is high You can stretch right up and touch the sky When the weather's fine You got women, you got women on your mind Have a drink, have a drive Go out and see what you can find
If her daddy's rich, take her out for a meal If her daddy's poor, just do what you feel Speed along the lane Do a ton, or a ton and twenty-five When the sun goes down, you can make it Make it good in a lay-by
(Mungo Jerry - hmm not very PC were they?)
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MabelJane
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« Reply #3 on: 20:33:04, 18-06-2007 » |
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I know it's obvious but we've got to have:
Summertime, And the livin' is easy Fish are jumpin' And the cotton is high
Your daddy's rich And your mamma's good lookin' So hush little baby Don't you cry
One of these mornings You're going to rise up singing Then you'll spread your wings And you'll take to the sky
But till that morning There's a'nothing can harm you With daddy and mamma standing by
Summertime, And the livin' is easy Fish are jumpin' And the cotton is high
Your daddy's rich And your mamma's good lookin' So hush little baby Don't you cry
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Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.
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BobbyZ
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« Reply #4 on: 20:34:19, 18-06-2007 » |
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Hot town, summer in the city Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty Been down, isn't it a pity Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
All around, people looking half dead Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head
But at night it's a different world Go out and find a girl Come-on come-on and dance all night Despite the heat it'll be alright
And babe, don't you know it's a pity That the days can't be like the nights In the summer, in the city In the summer, in the city
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Dreams, schemes and themes
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martle
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« Reply #5 on: 20:40:29, 18-06-2007 » |
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(One of my favourite songs)
A boy is born in hard time mississippi Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty His parents give him love and affection To keep him strong moving in the right direction Living just enough, just enough for the city...ee ha!
His father works some days for fourteen hours And you can bet he barely makes a dollar His mother goes to scrub the floors for many And youd best believe she hardly gets a penny Living just enough, just enough for the city... yeah!
His sisters black but she is shonuff pretty Her skirt is short but lord her legs are sturdy To walk to school shes got to get up early Her clothes are old but never are they dirty Living just enough, just enough for the city...um hum
Her brothers smart hes got more sense than many His patiences long but soon he wont have any To find a job is like a haystack needle Cause where he lives they dont use colored people Living just enough, just enough for the city...
Living just enough... For the city... ooh, ooh (repeat several times)
His hair is long, his feet are hard and gritty He spends his life walking the streets of new york city Hes almost dead from breathing in air pollution He tried to vote but to him theres no solution Living just enough, just enough for the city... Yeah, yeah, yeah!
I hope you hear inside my voice of sorrow And that it motivates you to make a better tomorrow This place is cruel no where could be much colder If we dont change the world will soon be over Living just enough, stop giving just enough for the city!!!!
La, la, la, la, la, la, Da ba da da da da da da Da da da da da da Da da da da da da da da da (repeat to end)
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Green. Always green.
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BobbyZ
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« Reply #6 on: 20:51:51, 18-06-2007 » |
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One child grows up to be Somebody that just loves to learn And another child grows up to be Somebody you'd just love to burn Mom loves the both of them You see it's in the blood Both kids are good to Mom "Blood's thicker than mud" It's a family affair, it's a family affair Newlywed a year ago But you're still checking each other out Nobody wants to blow Nobody wants to be left out You can't leave, 'cause your heart is there But you can't stay, 'cause you been somewhere else!
You can't cry, 'cause you'll look broke down But you're cryin' anyway 'cause you're all broke down!
It's a family affair It's a family affair
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Dreams, schemes and themes
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MabelJane
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« Reply #7 on: 20:54:29, 18-06-2007 » |
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Them that's got shall get Them that's not shall lose So the Bible said and it still is news Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own
Yes, the strong gets more While the weak ones fade Empty pockets don't ever make the grade Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own
Money, you've got lots of friends Crowding round the door When you're gone, spending ends They don't come no more Rich relations give Crust of bread and such You can help yourself But don't take too much Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own
Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own He just worry 'bout nothin' Cause he's got his own
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Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.
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Andy D
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« Reply #8 on: 20:55:15, 18-06-2007 » |
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La, la, la, la, la, la, Da ba da da da da da da Da da da da da da Da da da da da da da da da
Don't think me unkind Words are hard to find The only cheques I've left unsigned From the banks of chaos in my mind And when their eloquence escapes me Their logic ties me up and rapes me De do do do, de da da da Is all I want to say to you De do do do, de da da da Their innocence will pull me through De do do do, de da da da Is all I want to say to you De do do do, de da da da They're meaningless and all that's true Sting
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BobbyZ
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« Reply #9 on: 21:05:27, 18-06-2007 » |
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Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own He just worry 'bout nothin' Cause he's got his own
Motherless children have a hard time When their mother is gone Motherless children have a hard time When their mother is gone Motherless children have a very hard time All the weepin', all that cryin' Motherless children have a hard time When their mother is gone People say a sister will do When the mother is gone People say a sister will do When the mother is gone People say a sister will do She'll get married, turn her back on you Motherless children have a hard time When their mother is gone Father do the best he can When the mother is gone Father do the best he can When the mother is gone Father do the best he can But there's so many things he just don't understand Motherless children have a hard time When their mother is gone I was lookin' for some place to plead my case And I'm standing here all alone I was framed, the times they have change And I don't know where I'm goin' Motherless children have a hard time All that weepin', all that cryin' Motherless children have a hard time When their mother is gone
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Dreams, schemes and themes
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time_is_now
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« Reply #10 on: 10:39:17, 19-06-2007 » |
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Colorado wrangler, stranger in L.A. On a diesel out of Dallas, looking for a better day He's a highway cowboy, a rolling stone Says he comes from everywhere and anywhere is home
He kind of looks like Jesus in a pair of faded jeans His halo is a cowboy hat and he's a prophet with a dream Just a highway cowboy, a rolling stone Like the God he's searching for he's standing all alone
He's been cussed and chased and caught and crucified a time or two He ain't fighting for no causes, now, cause he's the victim of a few 'Cause he's a highway cowboy, guitar in his hand Roadmaps in his bloodshot eyes, gettin' by the best he can
He don't worry much about tomorrow He knows he can't lose what he ain't got And like an old stray dog, he keeps right on drifting Drinking life out of the puddles that the rainy days have brought
He's a highway cowboy, a rolling stone Says he comes from everywhere and anywhere is home Says he comes from everywhere and anywhere is home
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« Last Edit: 10:41:59, 19-06-2007 by time_is_now »
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The city is a process which always veers away from the form envisaged and desired, ... whose revenge upon its architects and planners undoes every dream of mastery. It is [also] one of the sites where Dasein is assigned the impossible task of putting right what can never be put right. - Rob Lapsley
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Andy D
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« Reply #11 on: 11:35:01, 19-06-2007 » |
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Yeah, his guitar slung across his back His dusty boots is his cadillac Flamin’ hair just a blowin’ in the wind Ain’t seen a bed in so long it’s a sin He left home when he was seventeen The rest of the world he had longed to see But everybody knows the boss A rolling stone who gathers no moss But you’d probably call him a tramp But it goes a little deeper than that He’s a highway chile, yeah
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time_is_now
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« Reply #12 on: 11:43:27, 19-06-2007 » |
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One of the greatest lyrics ever written:
After all the jacks are in their boxes and the clowns have all gone to bed You can hear happiness staggering on down the street Footprints dressed in red And the wind whispers mary
A broom is drearily sweeping up the broken pieces of yesterday's life Somewhere a queen is weeping Somewhere a king has no wife And the wind it cries mary
The traffic lights they turn blue tomorrow And shine their emptiness down on my bed The tiny island sails downstream 'cause the life that lived is dead And the wind screams mary
Will the wind ever remember the names it has blown in the past And with this crutch its old age and its wisdom It whispers no this will be the last And the wind cries mary
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The city is a process which always veers away from the form envisaged and desired, ... whose revenge upon its architects and planners undoes every dream of mastery. It is [also] one of the sites where Dasein is assigned the impossible task of putting right what can never be put right. - Rob Lapsley
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BobbyZ
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« Reply #13 on: 13:52:05, 19-06-2007 » |
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There must be some way out of here, said the joker to the thief, There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief. Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth, None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.
No reason to get excited, the thief, he kindly spoke, There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke. But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate, So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.
All along the watchtower, princes kept the view While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl, Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.
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Dreams, schemes and themes
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time_is_now
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« Reply #14 on: 14:13:04, 19-06-2007 » |
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My love she speaks like silence, Without ideals or violence, She doesn't have to say she's faithful, Yet she's true, like ice, like fire. People carry roses, Make promises by the hours, My love she laughs like the flowers, Valentines can't buy her.
In the dime stores and bus stations, People talk of situations, Read books, repeat quotations, Draw conclusions on the wall. Some speak of the future, My love she speaks softly, She knows there's no success like failure And that failure's no success at all.
The cloak and dagger dangles, Madams light the candles. In ceremonies of the horsemen, Even the pawn must hold a grudge. Statues made of match sticks, Crumble into one another, My love winks, she does not bother, She knows too much to argue or to judge.
The bridge at midnight trembles, The country doctor rambles, Bankers' nieces seek perfection, Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring. The wind howls like a hammer, The night blows cold and rainy, My love she's like some raven At my window with a broken wing.
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The city is a process which always veers away from the form envisaged and desired, ... whose revenge upon its architects and planners undoes every dream of mastery. It is [also] one of the sites where Dasein is assigned the impossible task of putting right what can never be put right. - Rob Lapsley
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