I thought I'd cheer myself up by listening to some Pixies today. I know that doesn't make sense to most people, as they're kind of a weird band, but they bring me some nostalgic comfort.
The day since i met her
i can't believe it's true
she came here from memphis
across the ocean sailing
and i saw her a i pleaded
why do you come so far and she said
trying to get to you
how i tried to get you
trying to get you
i'm sending a letter
i'll send it right to you
i'll send it to memphis
i know that someday
everything i needed and i wanted
used to be that my head was haunted
and all these sirens they make me mad
and all this violence it brings me down
i feel strong i feel lucky
trying to get to you
said i'm going to get to you
trying to get to you.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Battlefields
Do NOT ask me why I woke up this morning with this song stuck in my head. I'm going to go ahead and blame it on late-night television, maybe a stray commercial. Or I could blame it on some sort of eighties flashback tripwire. I have no idea. But in the spirit of honesty, I present the random tune bouncing around my brain this am.
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
NO PROMISES, NO DEMANDS
Love Is A Battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love Is A Battlefield
You're beggin' me to go, you're makin' me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you've had?
Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why
But I'm trapped by your love, and I'm chained to your side
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
NO PROMISES, NO DEMANDS
Love Is A Battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love Is A Battlefield
We're losing control
Will you turn me away or touch me deep inside?
And before this gets old, will it still feel the same?
There's no way this will die
But if we get much closer, I could lose control
And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
NO PROMISES, NO DEMANDS
Love Is A Battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love Is A Battlefield
Artist: Pat Benatar
Album: Live from Earth
Year: 1983
Genre: Arena Rock
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
NO PROMISES, NO DEMANDS
Love Is A Battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love Is A Battlefield
You're beggin' me to go, you're makin' me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you've had?
Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why
But I'm trapped by your love, and I'm chained to your side
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
NO PROMISES, NO DEMANDS
Love Is A Battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love Is A Battlefield
We're losing control
Will you turn me away or touch me deep inside?
And before this gets old, will it still feel the same?
There's no way this will die
But if we get much closer, I could lose control
And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold
We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
NO PROMISES, NO DEMANDS
Love Is A Battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love Is A Battlefield
Artist: Pat Benatar
Album: Live from Earth
Year: 1983
Genre: Arena Rock
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
I'm a loser, baby....
I've been feeling a little bit like a loser lately, housebound recovering from an illness with recuperation that's taking far too long. So in honor of my semi-depressive state, here we present a song that was stuck in my head yesterday.
In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey
Butane in my veins and I’m out to cut the junkie
With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables
Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose
Kill the headlights and put it in neutral
Stock car flamin’ with a loser and the cruise control
Baby’s in reno with the vitamin d
Got a couple of couches, sleep on the love-seat
Someone came sayin’ I’m insane to complain
About a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt
Don’t believe everything that you breathe
You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve
So shave your face with some mace in the dark
Savin’ all your food stamps and burnin’ down the trailer park
Yo. cut it.
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(double barrel buckshot)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
Forces of evil on a bozo nightmare
Ban all the music with a phony gas chamber
’cuz one’s got a weasel and the other’s got a flag
One’s on the pole, shove the other in a bag
With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose-job
The daytime crap of the folksinger club
He hung himself with a guitar string
A slab of turkey-neck and it’s hangin’ from a pigeon wing
You can’t write if you can’t relate
Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate
And my time is a piece of wax fallin’ on a termite
who's chokin’ on the splinters
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(get crazy with the cheese whiz)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(drive-by body-pierce)
(yo bring it on down)
Soooooyy....
?em llik uoy t'nod yhw os ,ybab resol a m'I rodedreP nu yos
[It's the Chorus backwards]
(I’m a driver, I’m a winner; things are gonna change I can feel it)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(I can’t believe you)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Nlehh...)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Sprechen Sie Deutsch hier, Baby!)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(know what I’m sayin’? )
Song: Loser
Artist: Beck
Album: Mellow Gold
Year: 1994
In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey
Butane in my veins and I’m out to cut the junkie
With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables
Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose
Kill the headlights and put it in neutral
Stock car flamin’ with a loser and the cruise control
Baby’s in reno with the vitamin d
Got a couple of couches, sleep on the love-seat
Someone came sayin’ I’m insane to complain
About a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt
Don’t believe everything that you breathe
You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve
So shave your face with some mace in the dark
Savin’ all your food stamps and burnin’ down the trailer park
Yo. cut it.
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(double barrel buckshot)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
Forces of evil on a bozo nightmare
Ban all the music with a phony gas chamber
’cuz one’s got a weasel and the other’s got a flag
One’s on the pole, shove the other in a bag
With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose-job
The daytime crap of the folksinger club
He hung himself with a guitar string
A slab of turkey-neck and it’s hangin’ from a pigeon wing
You can’t write if you can’t relate
Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate
And my time is a piece of wax fallin’ on a termite
who's chokin’ on the splinters
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(get crazy with the cheese whiz)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(drive-by body-pierce)
(yo bring it on down)
Soooooyy....
?em llik uoy t'nod yhw os ,ybab resol a m'I rodedreP nu yos
[It's the Chorus backwards]
(I’m a driver, I’m a winner; things are gonna change I can feel it)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(I can’t believe you)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Nlehh...)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(Sprechen Sie Deutsch hier, Baby!)
Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?
(know what I’m sayin’? )
Song: Loser
Artist: Beck
Album: Mellow Gold
Year: 1994
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Vive La Revolution - Bastille Day
Bonjour, lets gather and join the many Frenchmen who did not like the tyranny and storm the Bastille and release all of the political prisoners.
Or at least think about the bloody times of emerging democracy and the freedoms we enjoy today because that time in history.
So to celebrate that glorious day we have a tune.
Song: Bastille Day
Artist: Rush
Album: Caress of Steel
Year: 1975
Or at least think about the bloody times of emerging democracy and the freedoms we enjoy today because that time in history.
So to celebrate that glorious day we have a tune.
"Bastille Day"
There's no bread, let them eat cake
There's no end to what they'll take
Flaunt the fruits of noble birth
Wash the salt into the earth
But they're marching to Bastille Day
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Free the dungeons of the innocent
The king will kneel and let his kingdom rise
Bloodstained velvet, dirty lace
Naked fear on every face
See them bow their heads to die
As we would bow as they rode by
And we're marching to Bastille Day
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Sing, oh choirs of cacophony
The king has kneeled, to let his kingdom rise
Lessons taught but never learned
All around us anger burns
Guide the future by the past
Long ago the mould was cast
For they marched up to Bastille Day
La guillotine claimed her bloody prize
Hear the echoes of the centuries
Power isn't all that money buys
There's no bread, let them eat cake
There's no end to what they'll take
Flaunt the fruits of noble birth
Wash the salt into the earth
But they're marching to Bastille Day
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Free the dungeons of the innocent
The king will kneel and let his kingdom rise
Bloodstained velvet, dirty lace
Naked fear on every face
See them bow their heads to die
As we would bow as they rode by
And we're marching to Bastille Day
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Sing, oh choirs of cacophony
The king has kneeled, to let his kingdom rise
Lessons taught but never learned
All around us anger burns
Guide the future by the past
Long ago the mould was cast
For they marched up to Bastille Day
La guillotine claimed her bloody prize
Hear the echoes of the centuries
Power isn't all that money buys
Song: Bastille Day
Artist: Rush
Album: Caress of Steel
Year: 1975
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Rain, Rain, Go Away...
Kinda like a cloud I was up way up in the sky.
And I was feeling some feelings you wouldn't believe.
Sometimes I don't believe them myself and I decided I was never coming down.
Just then a tiny little dot caught my eye.
It was just about too small to see.
But I watched it way too long.
It was pulling down.
[Chorus:]
I was up above it.
I was up above it.
I was up above it.
I was up above it.
Now I'm down in it
Shut up.
So what what does it matter now.
I was swimming in the hate now I crawl on the ground.
And everything I never liked about you is kind of seeping into me.
I try to laugh about it now but isn't it funny how everything works out.
I guess the jokes on me, she said.
[Chorus]
I used to be so big and strong.
I used to know my right from wrong.
I used to never be afraid.
I used to be somebody.
I used to have something inside.
Now just this hole it's open wide.
I used to want it all.
I used to be somebody.
I'll cross my heart and hope to die.
But the needle's already in my eye.
And all the world's weight is on my back and I don't even know why.
And what I used to think was me is just a fading memory.
I looked him right in the eye and said "goodbye."
[Chorus]
Rain rain go away.
Rain rain go away.
Rain rain go away.
Come again some other day.
[Chorus]
Na na na na na na na na.
Artist: Nine Inch Nails
Album: Pretty Hate Machine
Genre: Alternative
Year: 1989
And I was feeling some feelings you wouldn't believe.
Sometimes I don't believe them myself and I decided I was never coming down.
Just then a tiny little dot caught my eye.
It was just about too small to see.
But I watched it way too long.
It was pulling down.
[Chorus:]
I was up above it.
I was up above it.
I was up above it.
I was up above it.
Now I'm down in it
Shut up.
So what what does it matter now.
I was swimming in the hate now I crawl on the ground.
And everything I never liked about you is kind of seeping into me.
I try to laugh about it now but isn't it funny how everything works out.
I guess the jokes on me, she said.
[Chorus]
I used to be so big and strong.
I used to know my right from wrong.
I used to never be afraid.
I used to be somebody.
I used to have something inside.
Now just this hole it's open wide.
I used to want it all.
I used to be somebody.
I'll cross my heart and hope to die.
But the needle's already in my eye.
And all the world's weight is on my back and I don't even know why.
And what I used to think was me is just a fading memory.
I looked him right in the eye and said "goodbye."
[Chorus]
Rain rain go away.
Rain rain go away.
Rain rain go away.
Come again some other day.
[Chorus]
Na na na na na na na na.
Artist: Nine Inch Nails
Album: Pretty Hate Machine
Genre: Alternative
Year: 1989
Thursday, July 2, 2009
She's A Jar
She's A Jar Lyrics
Artist(Band):Wilco
She's a jar
With a heavy lid
My pop quiz kid
A sleepy kisser
A pretty war
With feelings hid
She begs me not to miss her
She says forever
To light a fuse
We could use
A hand full of wheel
And a day off
And a bruised road
However you might feel
Tonight is real
When I forget how to talk, I sing
Wont you please
Bring that flash to shine
And turn my eyes red
Unless they close
When you click
And my face gets sick
Stuck
Like a question unposed
Just climb aboard
The tracks of a trains arm
In my fragile family tree
And watch me floating inches above
The people under me
Please beware the quiet front yard
I warned you
Before there were water skies
I warned you not to drive
Dry your eyes, you poor devil
Are there really ones like these?
The ones I dream
Float like leaves
And freeze to spread skeleton wings
I passed through before I knew you
I believe it's just because
Daddy's payday is not enough
Oh, I believe it's all because
Daddy's payday is not enough
Just climb aboard
The tracks of a trains arm
In my fragile family tree
And watch me floating inches above
The people under me
She's a jar
With a heavy lid
My pop quiz kid
A sleepy kisser
A pretty war
With feelings hid
You know she begs me not to hit her
Artist(Band):Wilco
She's a jar
With a heavy lid
My pop quiz kid
A sleepy kisser
A pretty war
With feelings hid
She begs me not to miss her
She says forever
To light a fuse
We could use
A hand full of wheel
And a day off
And a bruised road
However you might feel
Tonight is real
When I forget how to talk, I sing
Wont you please
Bring that flash to shine
And turn my eyes red
Unless they close
When you click
And my face gets sick
Stuck
Like a question unposed
Just climb aboard
The tracks of a trains arm
In my fragile family tree
And watch me floating inches above
The people under me
Please beware the quiet front yard
I warned you
Before there were water skies
I warned you not to drive
Dry your eyes, you poor devil
Are there really ones like these?
The ones I dream
Float like leaves
And freeze to spread skeleton wings
I passed through before I knew you
I believe it's just because
Daddy's payday is not enough
Oh, I believe it's all because
Daddy's payday is not enough
Just climb aboard
The tracks of a trains arm
In my fragile family tree
And watch me floating inches above
The people under me
She's a jar
With a heavy lid
My pop quiz kid
A sleepy kisser
A pretty war
With feelings hid
You know she begs me not to hit her
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Three Strange Days...
For three strange days
I had no obligations
My mind was a blur
I did not know what to do
I think I lost myself
When I lost my motivation
Now I'm walking 'round the city
Just waiting to come to
For three strange...
For three strange days
I couldn't put a smile on my face
So they dressed me up in all of their clothes
And took me somewhere else
Johnny Clueless was there
With his simulated wood grain
So I pulled up a chair
And started drinking by myself
For three strange...
I've got to make it through
No matter what it takes
Oh I've got to make it through
These strange days
I lay down for a while
And I woke up on the ocean
Floating on my back
And staring at the gray
It was completely still
Except the pounding of my heart
Bringing me back to life
From three strange days
Three strange...
Three strange days
Three strange days
I had no obligations
My mind was a blur
I did not know what to do
I think I lost myself
When I lost my motivation
Now I'm walking 'round the city
Just waiting to come to
For three strange...
For three strange days
I couldn't put a smile on my face
So they dressed me up in all of their clothes
And took me somewhere else
Johnny Clueless was there
With his simulated wood grain
So I pulled up a chair
And started drinking by myself
For three strange...
I've got to make it through
No matter what it takes
Oh I've got to make it through
These strange days
I lay down for a while
And I woke up on the ocean
Floating on my back
And staring at the gray
It was completely still
Except the pounding of my heart
Bringing me back to life
From three strange days
Three strange...
Three strange days
Three strange days
I love you baby, but...
(Oh Yeah)
Yeah
Uh uh
U're gettin dirty at the club again
I'm usually round Ur waist like a chain but then,
I got that call so I jumped in my car
I love U baby,
But not like I love my guitar
Uh uh, not like I love my guitar, no
U couldn't do it all by Urself
U had 2 go and get somebody else
Ur high enough to call me
But U can't reach the bar
I love U baby
But not like I love my guitar, no
Not like I love my guitar
Oh, listen
Turn it up
Uh uh
[guitar solo]
Yeah, now dig
I tried 2 warn U that it's hard 2 B a star
Especially when Ur driving other people's car
I woulda gave U mine, girl, but U took it 2 far
I love U baby
But, just not like I love my guitar
Uh uh, not like I love my guitar
Oh
I know U love me and U wanna B friends
And if U don't at least U need 2 pretend
We're still 2gether even if we don't get that far
I love U baby
But not like I love this guitar
I love U, I love U baby
(Not like I love my guitar)
I love U baby and I wish U well (I wish U well)
I'll write a letter when I learn how 2 spell
Until that day, U can go to the... [laugh]
I love U baby.... U know the rest
Aah aah aah
Title: Guitar
Artist: Prince
Album: Planet Earth
Year: 2007
Yeah
Uh uh
U're gettin dirty at the club again
I'm usually round Ur waist like a chain but then,
I got that call so I jumped in my car
I love U baby,
But not like I love my guitar
Uh uh, not like I love my guitar, no
U couldn't do it all by Urself
U had 2 go and get somebody else
Ur high enough to call me
But U can't reach the bar
I love U baby
But not like I love my guitar, no
Not like I love my guitar
Oh, listen
Turn it up
Uh uh
[guitar solo]
Yeah, now dig
I tried 2 warn U that it's hard 2 B a star
Especially when Ur driving other people's car
I woulda gave U mine, girl, but U took it 2 far
I love U baby
But, just not like I love my guitar
Uh uh, not like I love my guitar
Oh
I know U love me and U wanna B friends
And if U don't at least U need 2 pretend
We're still 2gether even if we don't get that far
I love U baby
But not like I love this guitar
I love U, I love U baby
(Not like I love my guitar)
I love U baby and I wish U well (I wish U well)
I'll write a letter when I learn how 2 spell
Until that day, U can go to the... [laugh]
I love U baby.... U know the rest
Aah aah aah
Title: Guitar
Artist: Prince
Album: Planet Earth
Year: 2007
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Billie Jean is not my lover... yet. :)
She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene
I said don't mind, but what do you mean I am the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round
She said I am the one, who will dance on the floor in the round
She told me her name was Billie Jean, as she caused a scene
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round
People always told me be careful of what you do
And don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
And mother always told me be careful of who you love
And be careful of what you do 'cause the lie becomes the truth
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
For forty days and for forty nights
The law was on her side
But who can stand when she's in demand
Her schemes and plans
'Cause we danced on the floor in the round
So take my strong advice, just remember to always think twice
(Do think twice)
She told my baby we'd danced till three, then she looked at me
Then showed a photo my baby cried his eyes were like mine (oh, no!)
'Cause we danced on the floor in the round, baby
People always told me be careful of what you do
And don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
She came and stood right by me
Then the smell of sweet perfume
This happened much too soon
She called me to her room
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Not my lover
Not my lover
Not my lover
Not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Title: Billie Jean
Artist: Michael Jackson
Album: Thriller
Year: 1983
I said don't mind, but what do you mean I am the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round
She said I am the one, who will dance on the floor in the round
She told me her name was Billie Jean, as she caused a scene
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round
People always told me be careful of what you do
And don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
And mother always told me be careful of who you love
And be careful of what you do 'cause the lie becomes the truth
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
For forty days and for forty nights
The law was on her side
But who can stand when she's in demand
Her schemes and plans
'Cause we danced on the floor in the round
So take my strong advice, just remember to always think twice
(Do think twice)
She told my baby we'd danced till three, then she looked at me
Then showed a photo my baby cried his eyes were like mine (oh, no!)
'Cause we danced on the floor in the round, baby
People always told me be careful of what you do
And don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
She came and stood right by me
Then the smell of sweet perfume
This happened much too soon
She called me to her room
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Not my lover
Not my lover
Not my lover
Not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is not my lover (she is just a girl)
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is not my lover
Billie Jean is
Billie Jean is
Title: Billie Jean
Artist: Michael Jackson
Album: Thriller
Year: 1983
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Hypnotize... RIP Biggie.
Lyrics to Hypnotize :
Uhhh, uhhh, uh, c'mon
[Verse One:]
Hah, sicka than your average Poppa
Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink
pink gators, my Detroit players
Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn
Dead right, if they head right, Biggie there Air Nike
Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos
Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who
do something to us, talk go through us
Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us
Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe)
Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch
Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3
(Take that, take that, take that, haha!)
Bang every MC easily, busily
Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope)
So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece
Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps
Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it
That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it
[Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di"]
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah)
[Verse Two:]
I put hoes in NY onto DKNY (uh-huh)
Miami, D.C. prefer Versace (that's right)
All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino (c'mon)
Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi (haaaaah!)
Now who's the real dookie, meanin who's really the shit
Them niggaz ride dicks, Frank White push the sticks
on the Lexus, LX, four and a half
Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass
Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last
That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass
At last, a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads
Tits and bras, menage-a-tois, sex in expensive cars
I still leave you on the pavement
Condo paid for, no car payment
At my arraignment, note for the plantiff
Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement (shhh)
Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy (not guilty)
Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me
[Chorus:]
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (huh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
[Verse Three:]
I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit (I can fill ya)
Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly
Wreck it buy a new one
Your crew run run run, your crew run run
I know you sick of this, name brand nigga wit
flows girls say he's sweet like licorice
So get with this nigga, it's easy
Girlfriend here's a pen, call me round ten
Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian (that's right)
Come up to your job, hit you while you workin (uhh)
for certain, Poppa freakin, not speakin
Leave that ass leakin, like rapper demo
Tell them hoe, take they clothes off slowly
Hit em wit the force like Obe, dick black like Toby (Obe...Toby)
Watch me roam like Gobe, lucky they don't owe me
Where the safe show me, homey.. (say what, homey)
[Chorus:]
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid
[fades]
Song: Hypnotize
Artist: Christopher Wallace/The Notorious B.I.G./Biggie Smalls
Album: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_After_Death
Year: 1997
Uhhh, uhhh, uh, c'mon
[Verse One:]
Hah, sicka than your average Poppa
Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink
pink gators, my Detroit players
Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn
Dead right, if they head right, Biggie there Air Nike
Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos
Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who
do something to us, talk go through us
Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us
Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe)
Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch
Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3
(Take that, take that, take that, haha!)
Bang every MC easily, busily
Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope)
So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece
Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps
Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it
That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it
[Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di"]
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah)
[Verse Two:]
I put hoes in NY onto DKNY (uh-huh)
Miami, D.C. prefer Versace (that's right)
All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino (c'mon)
Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi (haaaaah!)
Now who's the real dookie, meanin who's really the shit
Them niggaz ride dicks, Frank White push the sticks
on the Lexus, LX, four and a half
Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass
Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last
That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass
At last, a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads
Tits and bras, menage-a-tois, sex in expensive cars
I still leave you on the pavement
Condo paid for, no car payment
At my arraignment, note for the plantiff
Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement (shhh)
Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy (not guilty)
Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me
[Chorus:]
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (huh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
[Verse Three:]
I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit (I can fill ya)
Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly
Wreck it buy a new one
Your crew run run run, your crew run run
I know you sick of this, name brand nigga wit
flows girls say he's sweet like licorice
So get with this nigga, it's easy
Girlfriend here's a pen, call me round ten
Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian (that's right)
Come up to your job, hit you while you workin (uhh)
for certain, Poppa freakin, not speakin
Leave that ass leakin, like rapper demo
Tell them hoe, take they clothes off slowly
Hit em wit the force like Obe, dick black like Toby (Obe...Toby)
Watch me roam like Gobe, lucky they don't owe me
Where the safe show me, homey.. (say what, homey)
[Chorus:]
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid
[fades]
Song: Hypnotize
Artist: Christopher Wallace/The Notorious B.I.G./Biggie Smalls
Album: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_After_Death
Year: 1997
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Love? Can do.
Amy Grant - Love Can Do Lyrics
(Michael W. Smith, Amy Grant and Wayne Kirkpatrick)
Who can say
Why she turned and walked away
I can't see
But she's gone away
Sometimes love
Means we have to stand and fight
Everybody runs
Everybody hides
No this ain't the movies
Now it's flesh and blood
And there's one thing I'm sure of
[Chorus:]
Hey little girl running out so fast
Gotta stay put for love to last
Why you gotta say
That love has gone away
It's not like that
Everybody hurts when the feelings fade
If you want 'em back
You know you gotta stay
No running
Love's coming back
Like only love can do
Love can do
Things you never thought it could
Mend a hurt so bad
Make you feel so good
Love's for fools
Wise enough to take a chance
Hear the music play
Let me see you dance
No this ain't the movies
Now it's give and take
And it's your heart at stake
[Chorus]
Hey little girl running so fast
Looking for the love you're sure will last
Why do you have to say it
Love has gone away
It's not like that
Love's not like that
[Chorus]
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I'm Getting OLD!
Well I got letter in the mail (yes, United States Postal System) addressed to me, a rare event for personal correspondence.
The return address was from a friend of mine in college who I have not seen in close to 10 years, but is on our not minuscule Christmas card list.
I was thinking "He must have procreated again."
Yes I did think "procreated"
No I'm not lying I did think "procreated".
But instead, I get a notice about a 40th birthday party. A surprise party at that.
Since only about 3 or 4 (being generous) people ready this and I doubt the birthday boy is one of them. So do not tell him about the party or you will spoil the surprise.
Well in college Johnny Cash was a favorite so today's selection in honor of the old man. And no his name is not Sue.
The return address was from a friend of mine in college who I have not seen in close to 10 years, but is on our not minuscule Christmas card list.
I was thinking "He must have procreated again."
Yes I did think "procreated"
No I'm not lying I did think "procreated".
But instead, I get a notice about a 40th birthday party. A surprise party at that.
Since only about 3 or 4 (being generous) people ready this and I doubt the birthday boy is one of them. So do not tell him about the party or you will spoil the surprise.
Well in college Johnny Cash was a favorite so today's selection in honor of the old man. And no his name is not Sue.
"A Boy Named Sue"
My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."
Well, he must o' thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.
Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."
Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"
Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.
And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."
He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"
I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!
My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."
Well, he must o' thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.
Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."
Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"
Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.
And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."
He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"
I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Welcome to the Jungle
Well its close to time for me to call it a night.
I have spent the majority of the day outside, gardening and helping bale hay, a rather nice day overall.
I managed to enjoy semi mindless labor while gardening.
The physical exertion of tossing hay bales into the second story of two barns.
The ensuing allergic reactions.
The corresponding allergy medications.
The ensuing side effects of being all dopey and sleepy.
But enough about my day.
Lets go back a bit.
About 20 years in fact.
On an evening not too different from today.
Outside in the parking lot of the local high school after graduation.
(not my graduation but I was in the band so therefore went to them all to perform)
Loitering while waiting for all the parents to leave so we could get our cars out.
The discussions of who was having graduation parties and when and the all important where.
And if there were serving alcohol or if you had to bring your own.
In the background "Welcome to the Jungle ..."
I have spent the majority of the day outside, gardening and helping bale hay, a rather nice day overall.
I managed to enjoy semi mindless labor while gardening.
The physical exertion of tossing hay bales into the second story of two barns.
The ensuing allergic reactions.
The corresponding allergy medications.
The ensuing side effects of being all dopey and sleepy.
But enough about my day.
Lets go back a bit.
About 20 years in fact.
On an evening not too different from today.
Outside in the parking lot of the local high school after graduation.
(not my graduation but I was in the band so therefore went to them all to perform)
Loitering while waiting for all the parents to leave so we could get our cars out.
The discussions of who was having graduation parties and when and the all important where.
And if there were serving alcohol or if you had to bring your own.
In the background "Welcome to the Jungle ..."
WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE
Welcome to the jungle
We got fun 'n' games
We got everything you want
Honey we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money honey
We got your disease
Chorus:
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your shun n,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,n,,n,n,,n knees, knees
I wanna watch you bleed
Welcome to the jungle
We take it day by day
If you want it you're gonna bleed
But it's the price you pay
And you're a very sexy girl
That's very hard to please
You can taste the bright lights
But you won't get them for free
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
I, I wanna hear you scream
Welcome to the jungle
It gets worse here everyday
Ya learn ta live like an animal
In the jungle where we play
If you got a hunger for what you see
You'll take it eventually
You can have anything you want
But you better not take it from me
Chorus
And when you're high you never
Ever want to come down, so down, so down, so down YEAH!
You know where you are
You're in the jungle baby
You're gonna die
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your shu n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,,n knees, knees
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your shun n,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,,n.n, knees, knees
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your
It's gonna bring you down!
Ha!
We got fun 'n' games
We got everything you want
Honey we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money honey
We got your disease
Chorus:
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your shun n,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,n,,n,n,,n knees, knees
I wanna watch you bleed
Welcome to the jungle
We take it day by day
If you want it you're gonna bleed
But it's the price you pay
And you're a very sexy girl
That's very hard to please
You can taste the bright lights
But you won't get them for free
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
I, I wanna hear you scream
Welcome to the jungle
It gets worse here everyday
Ya learn ta live like an animal
In the jungle where we play
If you got a hunger for what you see
You'll take it eventually
You can have anything you want
But you better not take it from me
Chorus
And when you're high you never
Ever want to come down, so down, so down, so down YEAH!
You know where you are
You're in the jungle baby
You're gonna die
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your shu n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,,n knees, knees
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my serpentine
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your shun n,n,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,,n,n,,n.n, knees, knees
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your
It's gonna bring you down!
Ha!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Take it Easy
Wow, its been a while since I posted here. Well I am fixing that issue right now.
I got to hear some great Eagles tunes at Donk's Theater, Virginia's Lil' Ole Opry, and it inspired me (after taking it easy for a while) to put something on here.
The music was good. One song in particular that I thought was amazing was "Seven Bridges Road" a four part harmony.
I got to hear some great Eagles tunes at Donk's Theater, Virginia's Lil' Ole Opry, and it inspired me (after taking it easy for a while) to put something on here.
The music was good. One song in particular that I thought was amazing was "Seven Bridges Road" a four part harmony.
"Seven Bridges Road"
There are stars
In the Southern sky
Southward as you go
There is moonlight
And moss in the trees
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
Sometimes there's a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the Seven Bridges Road
There are stars in the Southern sky
And if ever you decide
You should go
There is a taste of time sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road
There are stars
In the Southern sky
Southward as you go
There is moonlight
And moss in the trees
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
Sometimes there's a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the Seven Bridges Road
There are stars in the Southern sky
And if ever you decide
You should go
There is a taste of time sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
{VERSE 1}
Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
And she's gone.
{CHORUS}
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Ah... Ah...
{VERSE 2}
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain,
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,
That grow so incredibly high.
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore,
Waiting to take you away.
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds,
And you're gone.
{CHORUS}
Picture yourself on a train in a station,
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties.
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile,
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
{CHORUS REPEATED AND FADED}
:)
Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
And she's gone.
{CHORUS}
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Ah... Ah...
{VERSE 2}
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain,
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,
That grow so incredibly high.
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore,
Waiting to take you away.
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds,
And you're gone.
{CHORUS}
Picture yourself on a train in a station,
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties.
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile,
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
{CHORUS REPEATED AND FADED}
:)
Friday, April 10, 2009
Walking Down the Street
I was hanging out with a buddy today, just like some old times (yes, I am now old enough to have old times) and one my ride home a song popped into my head. One from some very old times, that I used to sing while I swang.
Here we come
Walking down the street
We get the funniest looks from
Everyone we meet.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
and people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing,
to put anybody down.
We go wherever we want to,
Do what we like to do.
We don't have time to get restless,
There's always something new.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
and people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing,
to put anybody down.
We're just trying to be friendly,
Come watch us sing and play.
We're the young generation,
And we got something to say.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
You never know where we'll be found.
So you'd better get ready,
We may be comin to your town.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
and people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing,
to put anybody down.
Walking down the street
We get the funniest looks from
Everyone we meet.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
and people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing,
to put anybody down.
We go wherever we want to,
Do what we like to do.
We don't have time to get restless,
There's always something new.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
and people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing,
to put anybody down.
We're just trying to be friendly,
Come watch us sing and play.
We're the young generation,
And we got something to say.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
You never know where we'll be found.
So you'd better get ready,
We may be comin to your town.
Hey, hey we're the Monkees,
and people say we monkey around.
But we're too busy singing,
to put anybody down.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Im Back in the Saddle Again
After an eternity (actually only a few days) without a computer I am back. Now that I am back I think that some Aerosmith is appropriate for my return.
Song: Back in the Saddle
Artist: Aerosmith
Album: Rocks
Year: 1976
(chorus)
Im back
Im back in the saddle again
Im back
Im back in the saddle again
Ridin into town alone
By the light of the moon
Im looking for ol sukie jones
She crazy horse saloon
Barkeep gimme a drink
Thats when she caught my eye
She turned to give me a wink
That make a grown man cry
(chorus)
Come easy, go easy
All right until the rising sun
Im calling all the shots tonight
Im like a loaded gun
Peelin off my boots and chaps
Im saddle sore
Four bits gets you time in the racks
I scream for more
Fools gold out of their mines
The girls are soaking wet
Not tounges drier than mine
Ill come when I get back
Im back in the saddle again
Im back
Im back in the saddle again
Im riding, Im loading up my pistol
Im riding, I really got a fistful
Im riding, Im shining up my saddle
Im riding, this snake is gonna rattle
(chorus)
Ridin high
Ridin high
Ridin high already
Im back
Im back in the saddle again
Im back
Im back in the saddle again
Ridin into town alone
By the light of the moon
Im looking for ol sukie jones
She crazy horse saloon
Barkeep gimme a drink
Thats when she caught my eye
She turned to give me a wink
That make a grown man cry
(chorus)
Come easy, go easy
All right until the rising sun
Im calling all the shots tonight
Im like a loaded gun
Peelin off my boots and chaps
Im saddle sore
Four bits gets you time in the racks
I scream for more
Fools gold out of their mines
The girls are soaking wet
Not tounges drier than mine
Ill come when I get back
Im back in the saddle again
Im back
Im back in the saddle again
Im riding, Im loading up my pistol
Im riding, I really got a fistful
Im riding, Im shining up my saddle
Im riding, this snake is gonna rattle
(chorus)
Ridin high
Ridin high
Ridin high already
Song: Back in the Saddle
Artist: Aerosmith
Album: Rocks
Year: 1976
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Crashing Easy Street
Alright, it's a little late, but I thought I'd post about Easy Street .
The robot and I accidentally crashed their Grand Opening (according to the girl outside) and I have a few observations, particularly about plumbing but of course at an overall high-level as well.
The robot and I accidentally crashed their Grand Opening (according to the girl outside) and I have a few observations, particularly about plumbing but of course at an overall high-level as well.
As you Richmonders know, ES has been closed for some time, and wild speculation about "becoming an Applebee's" has spawned as a result* and other such wild internetty notions. You may also know that things in Richmond take on average about three times longer than anywhere else in the world (per the robot, and I tend to agree to a point.)
In summary I'm here to tell you this: Easy Street is back and better than ever. There's still a swag of art-deco going on, and that's a good thing because frankly, I miss the whole 3rd Street Diner schtick from my college days, so any arty throwback motif (short of Silver Diner abhorrence) is bound to get my interest at some level.
Anyway... all intoxiation aside... the song stuck in my head. I discovered it on a Paste Magazine CD some time back and it always puts a strut in my step, not unlike the resulting mood after visiting neo-Easy Street.
Oh yes, the plumbing. Val Catrow at RVAnews suggested blogging about the state of affairs on the bathroom/plumbing front, and it so happens that the robot is a plumbing and construction expert. (The first rule of plumbing, by the way, is "s--- flows downhill.) I screened the bathroom and he followed up... we consulted a couple of lovely ladies about the other facilities: our conclusions? Well. Let's see... things have been updated since prior-Easy Street x.x but there is just a little bit of followup in terms of trim and such that needs to be completed... but I mean, really, this was the unofficial Grand Opening as far as we understood/were concerned so I move that we let things slide.
Fun times, fun place, and I'm pretty psyched to see the doors back open, in summary.
Now: the song stuck in my head.
I'm going to go with a deep cut: Strawberry Street by some woman I'm about to Google that I heard on a Paste Magazine soundtrack. It gets me in a bouncy Richmond sort of mood, which about sums up my current mindset. I'll post the artist and lyrics when I have time to dig for them.
In the meantime, Strawberry Fields Forever will have to do. You know the artist. Hint: it's not the Rolling Stones.
Thank you Good Lord for showing us the path back to Easy Street, a place where we fan-side people all desparately need to go right about know (funk soul brothers/check it out now).
-ZtoTheM (look me up on blip.fm as KtotheYtotheLOS!)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Surfacing Slowly
Happy April Fool's. What's your AF resolution? Mine is to quit smoking by my birthday.
Anyway, regarding my current earworm... a good friend of mine wrote this song for my brother a long time ago. I've always loved it and can relate to it all too well... it's hard to keep afloat in these turbulent times, so the song is as relevant today as it was during its conception.
If you want to hear it, hit me up for the mp3.
Surfacing Slowly
=============
Words and Music by... well, hit me up if you really want to know.
been underwater since i don't know when
and time passes slowly five into ten
been underwater and i still don't know who i am
i can get back to a better off place
with the sun in my hair and a smile on my face
i can get back to the time when i still won the race
and i'm surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly with you
seems like the right thing to do
down fifteen fathoms the pressure's so strong
and you can't move your head 'cause it just takes too long
down fifteen fathoms the current don't move you along
i can get back to a better off place
with the sun in my hair and a smile on my face
i can get back to the time when i still won the race
and i'm surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly with you
seems like the right thing to do
carry me quickly 'cause i don't wanna go
'cause i'm tired of sleeping and moving so slow
carry me quickly 'cause when i get there i will know
been underwater since i don't know when
and time passes slowly five into ten
been underwater and i still don't know who i am
i can get back to a better off place
with the sun in my hair and a smile on my face
i can get back to the time when i still won the race
and i'm surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly with you
seems like the right thing to do
surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly
surfacing slowly
Peace out, babies.
ZM
Monday, March 23, 2009
This Dizzy Life
Good morning… I spent last weekend out in the country. Er… “out IN”? The grammar police probably has issues with me, and frankly, my dears, I don’t give a damn.
Anyway, it was a weekend of both downtime and celebration… downtime because I’ve been working harder than a rented mule and celebratory in that we threw my father a little surprise birthday party. Dad’s probably the hardest working man I know; and please understand, that’s a hard benchmark to clear in my world. But for reals, he's the best man I know.
So this morning I was driving to the latest greatest project meeting… and as I reached cruising velocity I decided it was time to rock out in preparation for meetings about, well, setting up more meetings, … unfortunately, I did not have any Ice Cube CDs in the changer, so the winner was Counting Crows and their latest offering, an impeccable double-album work entitled Saturday Nights and Sunday mornings.
Track 2 on Disc 1 appeals to my soul – and while every CC fan knows that Adam Duritz is (quite literally) a poster child for Prozac, man can he smith a song. So this one’s for uh, all five of you who read this inspiring blog… especially my wingman Bengal up in the Big Apple. Today this song will be stuck in my head, as my own personal theme song... tp paraphrase Family Guy's Peter Griffin, "I've always wanted my own theme music"!
Hanging Tree
She brings her friends so we wont have to be alone
Fear I might lose my composure without warning
I am a child of fire I am a lion I have desires
And I was born inside the sun this morning
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
They say good evening when they dont know what to say
They say good morning when they wish you would go home
You open windows and you wait for someone warm to come inside and then freeze to
death alone
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
She calls a waitress when its time for her to go
And I know everyone is eventually leaving
I got a pair of wings for my birthday baby and I will fall down through the sun
to see you mine
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
For me, for me, for me
Artist: Counting Crows (Buy Counting Crows CDs)
Album: Saturday Nights and Sunday Morning
Mood: Melancholy Power-Pop
Anyway, it was a weekend of both downtime and celebration… downtime because I’ve been working harder than a rented mule and celebratory in that we threw my father a little surprise birthday party. Dad’s probably the hardest working man I know; and please understand, that’s a hard benchmark to clear in my world. But for reals, he's the best man I know.
So this morning I was driving to the latest greatest project meeting… and as I reached cruising velocity I decided it was time to rock out in preparation for meetings about, well, setting up more meetings, … unfortunately, I did not have any Ice Cube CDs in the changer, so the winner was Counting Crows and their latest offering, an impeccable double-album work entitled Saturday Nights and Sunday mornings.
Track 2 on Disc 1 appeals to my soul – and while every CC fan knows that Adam Duritz is (quite literally) a poster child for Prozac, man can he smith a song. So this one’s for uh, all five of you who read this inspiring blog… especially my wingman Bengal up in the Big Apple. Today this song will be stuck in my head, as my own personal theme song... tp paraphrase Family Guy's Peter Griffin, "I've always wanted my own theme music"!
Hanging Tree
She brings her friends so we wont have to be alone
Fear I might lose my composure without warning
I am a child of fire I am a lion I have desires
And I was born inside the sun this morning
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
They say good evening when they dont know what to say
They say good morning when they wish you would go home
You open windows and you wait for someone warm to come inside and then freeze to
death alone
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
She calls a waitress when its time for her to go
And I know everyone is eventually leaving
I got a pair of wings for my birthday baby and I will fall down through the sun
to see you mine
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
This dizzy life of mine keeps hanging me up all the time
This dizzy life is just a hanging tree
For me, for me, for me
Artist: Counting Crows (Buy Counting Crows CDs)
Album: Saturday Nights and Sunday Morning
Mood: Melancholy Power-Pop
Get Along Little Doggies
There are some definitely interesting events that happen when you live on a farm. One of those happened recently, and has been the subject for several posts on other blogs, but I digress.
After a long day in the big city, I came home and put the kids to bed and settled down to write up a nice post about my day and its musical impressions.
You saw that post yesterday.
Well this post is about the phone call.
The call was from the county dispatcher asking if we had any cows.
Of course, I said yes we have some here.
The nice dispatcher told me that they were walking along the highway on the edge of the property.
I being a greenhorn when it comes to cattle did what any responsible greenhorn does and goes and tells his wife.
Now I am not exactly a greenhorn when it comes to cattle. I quickly progressed through some of the early levels of being a cowboy. Below are my current skills and qualifications at being a cowboy.
1. Stand Right There and Hold This stick. - passed with flying colors (I can even pick out my own stick now. 2x4s make great sticks)
2. Hold this gate right here open.
3. Close that same gate after the cow goes through.
4. Open gates ahead of the cows. (Apparently not every gate is the proper gate to open)
5. Open the right gates ahead of the cows.
6. Close the right gates to keep the other cows from getting out.
7. Actively engage the cows while holding approved stick. (also know as not letting the cows run over you or get past you.)
The next level I will be working on is 8. Drive cows in any direction.
Well during the great escape I kept hearing the Blues Brothers singing Rawhide.
Song: Rawhide
Artist: Blues Brothers
After a long day in the big city, I came home and put the kids to bed and settled down to write up a nice post about my day and its musical impressions.
You saw that post yesterday.
Well this post is about the phone call.
The call was from the county dispatcher asking if we had any cows.
Of course, I said yes we have some here.
The nice dispatcher told me that they were walking along the highway on the edge of the property.
I being a greenhorn when it comes to cattle did what any responsible greenhorn does and goes and tells his wife.
Now I am not exactly a greenhorn when it comes to cattle. I quickly progressed through some of the early levels of being a cowboy. Below are my current skills and qualifications at being a cowboy.
1. Stand Right There and Hold This stick. - passed with flying colors (I can even pick out my own stick now. 2x4s make great sticks)
2. Hold this gate right here open.
3. Close that same gate after the cow goes through.
4. Open gates ahead of the cows. (Apparently not every gate is the proper gate to open)
5. Open the right gates ahead of the cows.
6. Close the right gates to keep the other cows from getting out.
7. Actively engage the cows while holding approved stick. (also know as not letting the cows run over you or get past you.)
The next level I will be working on is 8. Drive cows in any direction.
Well during the great escape I kept hearing the Blues Brothers singing Rawhide.
Song: Rawhide
Artist: Blues Brothers
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Survey Sunday : Got LYRICS?
Got LYRICS?
We’ve designed our format to include full song lyrics at the end of all the posts. "And why?" you might ask. Because we voted, and the lyric lovers won! In case you were wondering, (duh) I’m one of the lyric lovers!
I know (most of ) the words to almost every (intelligible) song I’ve ever heard. I’m weird that way. As I age, and my memory becomes less reliable, I employ the method of one of my college room-mates when she was doing hair-brush-karaoke in the dorm – I fill in the blanks with "sumpin’ sumpin’ sumpin.’" It works great, next time you’re at a loss, try it.
This quotation from the movie "Music and Lyrics" sums up the way I feel about the words to a song:
Alex Fletcher: It doesn't have to be perfect. Just spit it out. They're just lyrics.
Sophie Fisher: "Just lyrics"?
Alex Fletcher: Lyrics are important. They're just not as important as melody.
Sophie Fisher: I really don't think you get it.
Alex Fletcher: Oh. You look angry. Click your pen.
Sophie Fisher: A melody is like seeing someone for the first time. The physical attraction. Sex.
Alex Fletcher: I so get that.
Sophie Fisher: But then, as you get to know the person, that's the lyrics. Their story. Who they are underneath. It's the combination of the two that makes it magical
Am I alone? Who else thinks the lyrics are important? What are your favorite song lyrics?
We’ve designed our format to include full song lyrics at the end of all the posts. "And why?" you might ask. Because we voted, and the lyric lovers won! In case you were wondering, (duh) I’m one of the lyric lovers!
I know (most of ) the words to almost every (intelligible) song I’ve ever heard. I’m weird that way. As I age, and my memory becomes less reliable, I employ the method of one of my college room-mates when she was doing hair-brush-karaoke in the dorm – I fill in the blanks with "sumpin’ sumpin’ sumpin.’" It works great, next time you’re at a loss, try it.
This quotation from the movie "Music and Lyrics" sums up the way I feel about the words to a song:
Alex Fletcher: It doesn't have to be perfect. Just spit it out. They're just lyrics.
Sophie Fisher: "Just lyrics"?
Alex Fletcher: Lyrics are important. They're just not as important as melody.
Sophie Fisher: I really don't think you get it.
Alex Fletcher: Oh. You look angry. Click your pen.
Sophie Fisher: A melody is like seeing someone for the first time. The physical attraction. Sex.
Alex Fletcher: I so get that.
Sophie Fisher: But then, as you get to know the person, that's the lyrics. Their story. Who they are underneath. It's the combination of the two that makes it magical
Am I alone? Who else thinks the lyrics are important? What are your favorite song lyrics?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
A shout out to the "Come-Here's"
And when I say “come-here” I’m not giving you the cyber equivalent of a “come hither” look. I’m talking about the non-natives in our little coastal hometown, referred to by the natives as “come-here’s.”
When I joined Facebook not long ago, I was surprised that a major topic of conversation among the members of our High School graduating class was how the “come-here’s” felt looked down upon by the "natives."
As a "native," hearing that made me sad. I certainly never intended for anyone to feel that way. If anything, I was a little intimidated by the non-natives who had come to us from bigger schools and had far-away (perhaps more sophisticated) extended families. My family went "across the river" to the city about twice a year. You could say we didn't get out much. The new kids at school were fascinating, and I was always a little afraid that they'd look down upon me and my simple life.
Our small town was (and is) a little, coastal backwater, but it's a beautiful place. To its inhabitants (new AND native) it's very special. In many ways, it's unspoiled and beautiful, and it's the home of some wonderful folks. As they say about Lake Wobegone, "all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average."
I hold my head up and claim my native status, and when I do, remember friends, I'm not saying I'm better than you, I just love my home. Maybe it isn't really all that special, but it's special to me, and I'm glad y'all came along to share!
If you're not familiar with Kung Fu Panda, forgive me (we watch A LOT of animated movies at our house these days):
Mr. Ping: The secret ingredient is... nothing!
Po: Huh?
Mr. Ping: You heard me. Nothing! There is no secret ingredient.
Po: Wait, wait... it's just plain old noodle soup? You don't add some kind of special sauce or something?
Mr. Ping: Don't have to. To make something special you just have to believe it's special.
Po: There is no secret ingredient...
So, for the "come-here's" here's a little ditty (one of my favorites!) that says it all -- Dear "Come-Here's," You're not from Texas, but Texas wants you anyway!
That's Right (You're Not from Texas)
(watch Lyle perform it!)
You say you're not from Texas
Man as if I couldn't tell
You think you pull your boots on right
And wear your hat so well
So pardon me my laughter
'Cause I sure do understand
Even Moses got excited}
When he saw the promised land
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
See I was born and raised in Texas
And it means so much to me
Though my girl comes from down in Georgia
We were up in Tennessee
And as we were driving down the highway
She asked me baby what's so great
How come you're always going on
About your Lone Star State
I said that's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
Oh the road it looked so lovely
As she stood there on the side
And she grew smaller in my mirror
As I watched her wave goodbye
Those boys from Carolina
They sure enough could sing
But when they came on down to Texas
We all showed them how to swing
Now David's on the radio
And old Champ's still on the guitar
And Uncle Walt he's home with Heidi
Hiding in her loving arms
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
They're OK in Oklahoma
Up in Arkansas they're fair
But those old folks in Missouri
They don't even know you're there
But at a dance hall down in Texas
That's the finest place to be
The women they all look beautiful
And the men will buy your beer for free
And they'll say that's right
you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
So won't you let me help you Mister
Just pull your hat down the way I do
And buy your pants just a little longer
And next time somebody laughs at you
You just tell 'em you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
Title: That's Right (You're Not from Texas)
(watch Lyle perform it!)
Artist: Lyle Lovett
Album: The Road to Ensenada
Year: 1996
Genre: Western Swing
When I joined Facebook not long ago, I was surprised that a major topic of conversation among the members of our High School graduating class was how the “come-here’s” felt looked down upon by the "natives."
As a "native," hearing that made me sad. I certainly never intended for anyone to feel that way. If anything, I was a little intimidated by the non-natives who had come to us from bigger schools and had far-away (perhaps more sophisticated) extended families. My family went "across the river" to the city about twice a year. You could say we didn't get out much. The new kids at school were fascinating, and I was always a little afraid that they'd look down upon me and my simple life.
Our small town was (and is) a little, coastal backwater, but it's a beautiful place. To its inhabitants (new AND native) it's very special. In many ways, it's unspoiled and beautiful, and it's the home of some wonderful folks. As they say about Lake Wobegone, "all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average."
I hold my head up and claim my native status, and when I do, remember friends, I'm not saying I'm better than you, I just love my home. Maybe it isn't really all that special, but it's special to me, and I'm glad y'all came along to share!
If you're not familiar with Kung Fu Panda, forgive me (we watch A LOT of animated movies at our house these days):
Mr. Ping: The secret ingredient is... nothing!
Po: Huh?
Mr. Ping: You heard me. Nothing! There is no secret ingredient.
Po: Wait, wait... it's just plain old noodle soup? You don't add some kind of special sauce or something?
Mr. Ping: Don't have to. To make something special you just have to believe it's special.
Po: There is no secret ingredient...
So, for the "come-here's" here's a little ditty (one of my favorites!) that says it all -- Dear "Come-Here's," You're not from Texas, but Texas wants you anyway!
That's Right (You're Not from Texas)
(watch Lyle perform it!)
You say you're not from Texas
Man as if I couldn't tell
You think you pull your boots on right
And wear your hat so well
So pardon me my laughter
'Cause I sure do understand
Even Moses got excited}
When he saw the promised land
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
See I was born and raised in Texas
And it means so much to me
Though my girl comes from down in Georgia
We were up in Tennessee
And as we were driving down the highway
She asked me baby what's so great
How come you're always going on
About your Lone Star State
I said that's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
Oh the road it looked so lovely
As she stood there on the side
And she grew smaller in my mirror
As I watched her wave goodbye
Those boys from Carolina
They sure enough could sing
But when they came on down to Texas
We all showed them how to swing
Now David's on the radio
And old Champ's still on the guitar
And Uncle Walt he's home with Heidi
Hiding in her loving arms
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
They're OK in Oklahoma
Up in Arkansas they're fair
But those old folks in Missouri
They don't even know you're there
But at a dance hall down in Texas
That's the finest place to be
The women they all look beautiful
And the men will buy your beer for free
And they'll say that's right
you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
So won't you let me help you Mister
Just pull your hat down the way I do
And buy your pants just a little longer
And next time somebody laughs at you
You just tell 'em you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
That's right you're not from Texas
But Texas wants you anyway
Title: That's Right (You're Not from Texas)
(watch Lyle perform it!)
Artist: Lyle Lovett
Album: The Road to Ensenada
Year: 1996
Genre: Western Swing
Friday, March 20, 2009
I am My Own Wave of Mutilation
I spent some time on the tractor today, getting the feel for the equipment that I will need to used to gather up some manure (aka cow pie, cow s$%t, s$%t, etc...).
While not a city slicker, I do not use tractors that often and need time to get proficient with equipment I have not used before.
While in the process of dodging trees, ditches, fences, building, other farm implements and cows themselves, one song chorus rang through my head.
"Wave of Mutilation" sang true as I plowed (figuratively, I wasn't actually plowing... yet) through the lightly wooded back pasture trying to scrape up dung.
FYI: No cows were harmed during the production of this post.
While not a city slicker, I do not use tractors that often and need time to get proficient with equipment I have not used before.
While in the process of dodging trees, ditches, fences, building, other farm implements and cows themselves, one song chorus rang through my head.
"Wave of Mutilation" sang true as I plowed (figuratively, I wasn't actually plowing... yet) through the lightly wooded back pasture trying to scrape up dung.
FYI: No cows were harmed during the production of this post.
Cease to resist, giving my goodbye
Drive my car into the ocean
Youll think Im dead, but I sail away
On a wave of mutilation
A wave
Wave
Ive kissed mermaids, rode the el nino
Walked the sand with the crustaceans
Could find my way to mariana
On a wave of mutilation,
Wave of mutilation
Wave of mutilation
Wave
Wave of mutilation
Wave
Drive my car into the ocean
Youll think Im dead, but I sail away
On a wave of mutilation
A wave
Wave
Ive kissed mermaids, rode the el nino
Walked the sand with the crustaceans
Could find my way to mariana
On a wave of mutilation,
Wave of mutilation
Wave of mutilation
Wave
Wave of mutilation
Wave
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Feelin' Groovy
Hey there, babes and boys... sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm working on a super-secret project... takes up all my time at the moment.
If you want a little hint... google the word "intermedia" and tell me what it means to you... and hey, let me know what you think... post away.
Meanwhile, let's discuss the song stuck in my head...
First person to post the name of the artist wins something special... probably a night of heavy drinking, with some of the finest people you invite along for the ride... at Cha-Cha's most likely, though we can flow from there... and what's more, I'll catch the tab.
Dig it. Ready, set, GO!
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the mornin' last.
Just kickin' down the cobblestones,
Lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
Hello, lamppost, whatcha knowin'?
I come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain'tcha got no rhymes for me?
Doo it doo doo, feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morningtime drop all it's petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
Ba da da da da da da ba bap a dee...
Note: it would help if you're a really, really hot babe. :>~
ZM
If you want a little hint... google the word "intermedia" and tell me what it means to you... and hey, let me know what you think... post away.
Meanwhile, let's discuss the song stuck in my head...
First person to post the name of the artist wins something special... probably a night of heavy drinking, with some of the finest people you invite along for the ride... at Cha-Cha's most likely, though we can flow from there... and what's more, I'll catch the tab.
Dig it. Ready, set, GO!
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the mornin' last.
Just kickin' down the cobblestones,
Lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
Hello, lamppost, whatcha knowin'?
I come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain'tcha got no rhymes for me?
Doo it doo doo, feelin' groovy.
Ba da da da da da da, feelin' groovy.
I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morningtime drop all it's petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
Ba da da da da da da ba bap a dee...
Note: it would help if you're a really, really hot babe. :>~
ZM
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Earworm
Gentle Readers........
er um Gentle, Singular Reader....
silence....crickets chirping.....more silence....
Oh well, Fellow Bloggers,
I intended a few days ago to begin a feature on the blog that would henceforth be called "Survey Sunday" (hold your applause until the end, please). But those good intentions were foiled by well-meaning family members, work brought home on the weekend (what was I thinking?), and "less-time-than-I-though-I-had," a phenomena that has plagued me thoughout my life.
So, these good intentions led me straight down the path that good intentions often lead.... and no new feature was launched on Sunday. (quit booing and hissing until I'm done!)
However, I am launching "Survey Sunday" on Monday and am hoping it has the same good reception that usually meets other late offerings... such as breakfast for dinner, which is a great favorite in our household. (I will save Trivia Tuesday for another, less harried week)
Let us commence with Survey Sunday, wherein I pose our readership with a question... and am most likely met with deafening silence... since we don't really have a readership.
A song stuck in your head can be called:
an Earworm (from the German Ohrwurm),
a Phonological loop (don't ask me),
a "repetune,"
an "aneurhythm,"
a "humbug" (get it? heh),
I'm not making these up! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earworm
- Other. Everyone has his or her own worst earworm.
- Chili's "Baby Back Ribs" jingle.
- "Who Let the Dogs Out"
- "We Will Rock You"
- Kit-Kat candy-bar jingle ("Gimme a Break ...")
- "Mission Impossible" theme
- "YMCA"
- "Whoomp, There It Is"
- "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"
- "It's a Small World After All"
Some people choose to make fun of it:
Songs That Get Stuck In Your Head Collection!
But we know it's a reall affliction. So, tell me Gentle (lone, singular) Reader ( I know you're out there!), what songs get stuck in your head? and what do you do when that happens?
Back in Black
Hey people... sorry I haven't been around... I can't legally say what I've been doing, but trust me - Zack Morris knows how to have fun. So, to give you a little hint...
Song: Back in Black
Artist: AC/DC
Album: Back in Black
Year: 1980
Mood: Zippy
Back in black
I hit the sack
It's been too long I'm glad to be back
Yes, I'm let loose
From the noose
That's kept me hanging around
I've been looking at the sky
and it's gettin' me high
Forget the hearse 'cause I never die
I got nine lives
Cats eyes
Cruisin' every woman, never wonderin' why
CHORUS:
'Cause I'm back
Yes, I'm back
Well, I'm back
Yes, I'm back
Well, I'm back, back
Well I'm back in black
Yes, I'm back in black
Back in the back
Of a Cadillac
Number one with a bullet, I'm a power pack
Yes, I'm in a bang
With a gang
They've got to catch me if they want me to hang
Cause I'm back on the track
And I'm beatin' the flack
Nobody's gonna get me on another rap
So look at me now
I'm just makin' my play
Don't try to push your luck, just get out of my way
CHORUS
Well, I'm back, Yes I'm back
Well, I'm back, Yes I'm back
Well, I'm back, back
Well I'm back in black
Yes I'm back in black
hooo yeah
Ohh yeah
Yes I am
Oooh yeah, yeah Oh yeah
Back in now
Well I'm back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back
Back in black
Yes I'm back in black
Out of the sack
I hit the sack
It's been too long I'm glad to be back
Yes, I'm let loose
From the noose
That's kept me hanging around
I've been looking at the sky
and it's gettin' me high
Forget the hearse 'cause I never die
I got nine lives
Cats eyes
Cruisin' every woman, never wonderin' why
CHORUS:
'Cause I'm back
Yes, I'm back
Well, I'm back
Yes, I'm back
Well, I'm back, back
Well I'm back in black
Yes, I'm back in black
Back in the back
Of a Cadillac
Number one with a bullet, I'm a power pack
Yes, I'm in a bang
With a gang
They've got to catch me if they want me to hang
Cause I'm back on the track
And I'm beatin' the flack
Nobody's gonna get me on another rap
So look at me now
I'm just makin' my play
Don't try to push your luck, just get out of my way
CHORUS
Well, I'm back, Yes I'm back
Well, I'm back, Yes I'm back
Well, I'm back, back
Well I'm back in black
Yes I'm back in black
hooo yeah
Ohh yeah
Yes I am
Oooh yeah, yeah Oh yeah
Back in now
Well I'm back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back, I'm back
Back
Back in black
Yes I'm back in black
Out of the sack
Song: Back in Black
Artist: AC/DC
Album: Back in Black
Year: 1980
Mood: Zippy
Saturday, March 14, 2009
No Time Left For You
Well the weekend is here time to get all the things done that you were not able to manage during the week.
And of course what you want to do all of them all at once, then you realize that there is No Time.
Song: No Time
Artist: Guess Who
Album: Greatest Hits
& Canned Wheat
Year: 1969
And of course what you want to do all of them all at once, then you realize that there is No Time.
No time left for you
On my way to better things
No time left for you
I'll find myself some wings
No time left for you
Distant roads are calling me
No time left for you.
No time for a summer friend
No time for the love you send
Seasons change and so did I
You need not wonder why
You need not wonder why
There's no time left for you
No time left for you.
No time left for you
On my way to better things
No time left for you
I'll find myself some wings
No time left for you
Distant roads are calling me
No time left for you.
No time for a gentle rain
No time for my watch and chain
No time for revolving doors
No time for the killing floor
No time for the killing floor
There's no time left for you
No time left for you
On my way to better things
No time left for you
I'll find myself some wings
No time left for you
Distant roads are calling me
No time left for you.
No time for a summer friend
No time for the love you send
Seasons change and so did I
You need not wonder why
You need not wonder why
There's no time left for you
No time left for you.
No time left for you
On my way to better things
No time left for you
I'll find myself some wings
No time left for you
Distant roads are calling me
No time left for you.
No time for a gentle rain
No time for my watch and chain
No time for revolving doors
No time for the killing floor
No time for the killing floor
There's no time left for you
No time left for you
Song: No Time
Artist: Guess Who
Album: Greatest Hits
& Canned WheatYear: 1969
Friday, March 13, 2009
Friday Friday Friday
It is finally Friday.
End of the work week for most of us.
Just a few thought on the end of the work week, by Skid Row.
You got me forced to crack
My lids in two
Im still stuck inside this rubber room
I gotta punch the clock that
Leads the blind
Im just another gear in the assembly
Line - oh no
The noose gets tighter around
My throat
But I aint at the end of my rope cause
I wont be the one left behind
Cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Tear down the rat racial slime
Cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Get it?
A routine injection, a lethal dose
But my day in the sun aint even close
Theres no need to waste
Your prayers on me
You better mark my words
cause im history
Yes indeed
You might beg for mercy to get by
But id rather tear this thorn
From my side
I wont be the one left behind
You cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Tear down the rat racial slime
Cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
They swallowed thier daggers by
Turning their trick
They tore my intentions apart
Brick by brick
Im sick of the jive
You talk verbal insecticide
They swallowed thier daggers by
Turning their trick
They tore my intentions apart
Brick by brick
Im sick of the jive
You talk verbal insecticide
I wont be the one left behind
You cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Tear down the rat racial slime
You cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
I said slave to the grind
Slave to the grind
Slave to the grind
Song: Slave To The Grind
Artist: Skid Row
Album: Slave to the Grind
Year: 1991
End of the work week for most of us.
Just a few thought on the end of the work week, by Skid Row.
You got me forced to crack
My lids in two
Im still stuck inside this rubber room
I gotta punch the clock that
Leads the blind
Im just another gear in the assembly
Line - oh no
The noose gets tighter around
My throat
But I aint at the end of my rope cause
I wont be the one left behind
Cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Tear down the rat racial slime
Cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Get it?
A routine injection, a lethal dose
But my day in the sun aint even close
Theres no need to waste
Your prayers on me
You better mark my words
cause im history
Yes indeed
You might beg for mercy to get by
But id rather tear this thorn
From my side
I wont be the one left behind
You cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Tear down the rat racial slime
Cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
They swallowed thier daggers by
Turning their trick
They tore my intentions apart
Brick by brick
Im sick of the jive
You talk verbal insecticide
They swallowed thier daggers by
Turning their trick
They tore my intentions apart
Brick by brick
Im sick of the jive
You talk verbal insecticide
I wont be the one left behind
You cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
Tear down the rat racial slime
You cant be king of the world
If youre slave to the grind
I said slave to the grind
Slave to the grind
Slave to the grind
Song: Slave To The Grind
Artist: Skid Row
Album: Slave to the Grind
Year: 1991
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