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Author Topic: Lyrical Associations  (Read 3258 times)
BobbyZ
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Gender: Male
Posts: 992



« Reply #150 on: 22:51:23, 10-10-2008 »

What we need is a bloody good war. More Becker and Fagan.

Hello one and all
Was it you I used to know
Can't you hear me call
On this old ham radio
All I got to say
I'm alive and feeling fine
If you come my way
You can share my poison wine
Chorus:
No marigolds in the promised land
Theres a hole in the ground
Where they used to grow
Any man left on the Rio Grande
Is the king of the world
As far as I know

I don't want your bread
I don't need your helping hand
I can't be no savage
I can't be no highwayman
Show me where you are
You and I will spend this day
Driving in my car
Through the ruins of Santa Fe

Chorus

I'm reading last years papers
Although I don't know why
Assassins cons and rapers
Might as well die

If you come around
No more pain and no regrets
Watch the sun go brown
Smoking cobalt cigarettes
There's no need to hide
Taking things the easy way
If I stay inside
I might live 'til Saturday

Chorus
 
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Dreams, schemes and themes
perfect wagnerite
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Gender: Male
Posts: 1568



« Reply #151 on: 11:22:54, 05-11-2008 »

Not really on-topic, but somehow thoughts of Bush, Cheney and Palin bring this one irresitibly to mind:

I saw a newspaper picture from the political campaign
A woman was kissing a child, who was obviously in pain
She spills with compassion, as that young child's
face in her hands she grips
Can you imagine all that greed and avarice
coming down on that child's lips

Well I hope I don't die too soon
I pray the Lord my soul to save
Oh I'll be a good boy, I'm trying so hard to behave
Because there's one thing I know, I'd like to live
long enough to savour
That's when they finally put you in the ground
I'll stand on your grave and tramp the dirt down

When England was the whore of the world
Margaret was her madam
And the future looked as bright and as clear as
the black tarmacadam
Well I hope that she sleeps well at night, isn't
haunted by every tiny detail
'Cos when she held that lovely face in her hands
all she thought of was betrayal

And now the cynical ones say that it all ends the same in the long run
Try telling that to the desperate father who just squeezed the life from his
only son
And how it's only voices in your head and dreams you never dreamt
Try telling him the subtle difference between justice and contempt
Try telling me she isn't angry with this pitiful discontent
When they flaunt it in your face as you line up for punishment
And then expect you to say "Thank you" straighten up, look proud and pleased
Because you've only got the symptoms, you haven't got the whole disease
Just like a schoolboy, whose head's like a tin-can
filled up with dreams then poured down the drain
Try telling that to the boys on both sides, being blown to bits or beaten and
maimed
Who takes all the glory and none of the shame

Well I hope you live long now, I pray the Lord your soul to keep
I think I'll be going before we fold our arms and start to weep
I never thought for a moment that human life could be so cheap
'Cos when they finally put you in the ground
They'll stand there laughing and tramp the dirt down
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At every one of these [classical] concerts in England you will find rows of weary people who are there, not because they really like classical music, but because they think they ought to like it. (Shaw, Don Juan in Hell)
BobbyZ
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Gender: Male
Posts: 992



« Reply #152 on: 11:34:23, 05-11-2008 »

Amen to that PW

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

La la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la
La la la la la
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Dreams, schemes and themes
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