Originally posted by Nyxie
Soundgarden : Black hole sun
In my eyes
Indisposed
In disguise
As no one knows
Hides the face
Lies the snake
The sun
In my disgrace
Boiling heat
Summer stench
’neath the black
The sky looks dead
Call my name
Through the cream
And I’ll hear you
Scream again
Black hole sun
Won’t you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won’t you co ...[text shortened]... ay
No one sings
Like you
Anymore
Hang my head
Drown my fear
Till you all just
Disappear
Although this should really be in the "What am I listening to?" thread I thought it was freaky that I am listening to the album Superunknown just as I read this. Not the same song though, "Fell On Black Days". Although "Black Hole Sun" is later in the album.
Christy Moore: Lisdoonvarna
How's it goin' there everybody,
From Cork, New York, Dundalk, Gortahork and Glenamaddy.
Here we are in the County Clare
It's a long, long way from here to there.
There's the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher,
And the Tulla and the Kilfenora,
Miko Russell, Doctor Bill,
Willy Clancy and Noel Hill.
Flutes and fiddles everywhere.
If it's music you want,
You should go to Clare.
CHORUS
Oh, Lisdoonvarna
Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoonvarna!
Everybody needs a break,
Climb a mountain or jump in a lake.
Some head off to exotic places,
Others go to the Galway Races.
Mattie goes to the South of France,
Jim to the dogs, Peter to the dance.
A cousin of mine goes potholing,
A cousin of hers loves Joe Dolan.
Summer comes around each year,
We go there and they come here.
Some jet off to ... Frijiliana,
But I always go to Lisdoonvarna.
CHORUS
I always leave on a Thursday night,
With me tent and me groundsheet rolled up tight.
I like to hit Lisdoon,
In around Friday afternoon.
This gives me time to get me gear together,
I don't need to worry about the weather.
Ramble in for a pint of stout,
And you'd never know who'd be hangin' about!
There's a Dutchman playing a mandolin,
And a German looking for Liam Óg O'Floinn.
And there's Adam, Bono and Garrett Fitzgerald,
Gettin' their photos taken for the Sunday World.
Finbarr, Charlie and Jim Hand,
And they drinkin' pints to bate the band.
.. Ain't it grand?
CHORUS
The multitudes, they flocked and thronged,
To hear the music and the songs.
Motorbikes and Hi-ace vans,
With bottles - barrels - flagons - cans.
Mighty crack. Loads of frolics,
Pioneers and alcoholics,
PLAC, SPUC and the FCA,
Free Nicky Kelly and the IRA.
Hairy chests and milk-white thighs,
And mickey dodgers in disguise.
Mc Graths, O'Briens, Pippins, Coxs,
Massage parlours in horse boxes.
There's amhráns, bodhráns, amadáns,
Arab sheiks, Hindu Sikhs, Jesus freaks,
RTE are makin' tapes, takin' breaks and throwin' shapes.
This is heaven, this is hell.
Who cares? Who can tell?
(Anyone for the last few Choc Ices, now?)
CHORUS
A 747 for Jackson Browne,
They had to build a special runway just to get him down.
Before the Chieftains could start to play,
Seven creamy pints came out on a tray.
Shergar was ridden by Lord Lucan,
Seán Cannon did the backstage cookin'.
Clannad were playin' "Harry's Game",
Christy was singin' "Nancy Spain".
Mary O'Hara and Brush Shields,
Together singin' "The Four Green Fields".
Van the Man and Emmy Lou,
Moving Hearts and Planxty too!
CHORUS
Everybody needs a break,
Climb a mountain or jump in a lake.
Sean Doherty goes to the Rose of Tralee,
Oliver J. Flanagan goes swimming in the Holy Sea.
But I like the music and the open air,
So every Summer I go to Clare.
Coz Woodstock, Knock nor the Feast of Cana,
Can hold a match to Lisdoonvarna.
CHORUS
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - The Weeping Song
Go son, go down to the water
And see the women weeping there
Then go up into the mountains
The men, they are weeping too
Father, why are all the women weeping?
They are weeping for their men
Then why are all the men there weeping?
They are weeping back at them
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and women sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
Father, why are all the children weeping?
They are merely crying son
O, are they merely crying, father?
Yes, true weeping is yet to come
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While all the men and women sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
O father tell me, are you weeping?
Your face seems wet to touch
O then I'm so sorry, father
I never thought I hurt you so much
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While we rock ourselves to sleep
This is a weeping song
But I won't be weeping long
But I won't be weeping long
But I won't be weeping long
But I won't be weeping long
Mike and the Mechanics : Silent Running
Take the children and yourself
And hide out in the cellar
By now the fighting will be close at hand
Don’t believe the church and state
And everything they tell you
Believe in me, I’m with the high command
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
There’s a gun and ammunition
Just inside the doorway
Use it only in emergency
Better you should pray to god
The father and the spirit
Will guide you and protect from up here
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Swear allegiance to the flag
Whatever flag they offer
Never hint at what you really feel
Teach the children quietly
For some day sons and daughters
Will rise up and fight while we stood still
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me running (can you hear me calling you? )
(can you hear me) hear me calling you?
(can you hear me running) hear me running babe?
(can you hear me running) hear me running?
Calling you, calling you
Jesus Christ Superstar : Heaven on their minds
Judas :
My mind is clearer now.
At last all too well
I can see where we all soon will be.
If you strip away The myth from the man,
You will see where we all soon will be. Jesus!
You've started to believe
The things they say of you.
You really do believe
This talk of God is true.
And all the good you've done
Will soon get swept away.
You've begun to matter more
Than the things you say.
Listen Jesus I don't like what I see.
All I ask is that you listen to me.
And remember, I've been your right hand man all along.
You have set them all on fire.
They think they've found the new Messiah.
And they'll hurt you when they find they're wrong.
I remember when this whole thing began.
No talk of God then, we called you a man.
And believe me, my admiration for you hasn't died.
But every word you say today
Gets twisted 'round some other way.
And they'll hurt you if they think you've lied.
Nazareth, your famous son should have stayed a great unknown
Like his father carving wood He'd have made good.
Tables, chairs, and oaken chests would have suited Jesus best.
He'd have caused nobody harm; no one alarm.
Listen, Jesus, do you care for your race?
Don't you see we must keep in our place?
We are occupied; have you forgotten how put down we are?
I am frightened by the crowd.
For we are getting much too loud.
And they'll crush us if we go too far.
If they go too far....
Listen, Jesus, to the warning I give.
Please remember that I want us to live.
But it's sad to see our chances weakening with every hour.
All your followers are blind.
Too much heaven on their minds.
It was beautiful, but now it's sour.
Yes it's all gone sour.
Listen, Jesus, to the warning I give.
Please remember that I want us to live.
C'mon, c'mon
He won't listen to me ...
C'mon, c'mon
He won't listen to me ...
I decided to post some lyrics from an album I like....I did'nt stop to think about whether you'd care so don't bother telling me.
The album is "Epiphany in Brooklyn" by Brenda Kahn
I don't sleep I drink coffee instead.
There's a white trash chick at the donut shop
Reads her horoscope and calls her old man "pop"
Runs a red light, flips off a cop
Whose name is Bob and lives don the block
I don't sleep, I drink coffee instead
Trying to burn a hole through my aching head
and I'm thinking about you.
There's a Motel 6 oustide louisville Kentucky
Where people are large and clearinghouse lucky
Across the border, a couple old hoosiers
(looking kind of lifeless and worn) well travelled in
two states of the union
Set out to find the place where Abe Lincoln
was born
I don't sleep I drink coffee instead...
Yeah I drove into New York city
garbage baking on the streets it was not pretty
Coalduster and Trashcan Pete, they was
Wasting time on Essex street
They had jacked the hydrants, to spray the ladies
With the dollar bill earrings and the little black
babies
Yeah I don't sleep I only dream
A caffiene hole burning through my spleen
and I-I-I-I-I-I'm thinking about you
Now come a hungry junkie with a face like Van Gogh
Two eyes two ears but only half a nose
The boys say "beat it girl you stink
You got a hair full of lice, mouth full of drink"
Trashcan Pete gives the dumb b#tch a wink
Well with me that Sh%t don't fly - it sink
But I don't bother with nothin' - or try to protest
I get the hell out of Dodge 180 back to the Midwest
I don't sleep, I drink coffee instead...
I think these lyrics are beautiful. The song is called "Jolene", performed by Dolly Parton, but you'd be better for it if you found a White Stripes cover of it. (which unfortunately isn't on any of their albums yet but they play it at every concert) Anyways then:
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can
Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, jolene
He talks about you in his sleep
There’s nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, jolene
And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don’t know what he means to me, jolene
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can
You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He’s the only one for me, jolene
I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, jolene
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene
Please don’t take him even though you can
Jolene, jolene
Brandy... Looking Glass
There's a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes
And there's a girl in this harbor town
And she works layin' whiskey down
They say "Brandy, fetch another round"
She serves them whiskey and wine
The sailors say "Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
Brandy wears a braided chain
Made of finest silver from the North of Spain
A locket that bears the name
Of the man that Brandy loves
He came on a summer's day
Bringin' gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn't stay
No harbor was his home
The sailor said " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes
When he told his sailor stories
She could feel the ocean foam rise
She saw its ragin' glory
But he had always told the truth, lord, he was an honest man
And Brandy does her best to understand
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
At night when the bars close down
Brandy walks through a silent town
And loves a man who's not around
She still can hear him say
She hears him say " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
"Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
FADE
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
Laurie Anderson-Oh Superman
Oh, Superman. Oh, judge. Oh, Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.
Oh, Superman. Oh, judge. Oh, Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.
Hi, I'm not home right now.
But if you want to leave a message, just start talking at the sound of the tone.
Hello? This is your mother.
Are you there? Are you coming home?
Hello? Is anybody home?
Well, you don't know me, but I know you.
And I've got a message to give to you:
Here come the planes, so you better get ready, ready to go.
You can come as you are, but pay as you go. Pay as you go.
And I said, "OK. Who is this really?"
And the voice said,
"This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes."
Here come the planes.
They're American planes. Made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking?
And the voice said,
"Neither snow, nor rain, nor gloom of night shall stay these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."
'Cause when love is gone, there's always justice.
And when justice is gone, there's always force.
And when force is gone, there's always mom. Hi, mom!
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
In your automatic arms. Your electronic arms. In your arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
Your petrochemical arms. Your military arms. In your electronic arms.
(To the tune of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. )
CALCUTTA RHAPSODY
Naan, just killed a man poppadom against his head
Had lime pickle now he’s dead. Naan, dinner’s just begun
But now I’m gonna crap it all away. Naan, ooh, ooh Didn’t mean to make you cry
Seen nothing yet just see the loo tomorrow Curry on, curry on
Cause nothing really Madras.
Too late, my dinner’s gone. Sends shivers down my spine
Rectum aching all the time. Goodbye onion bhaji, I’ve got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and use the loo.
Naan, ooh, ooh This doopiaza is so mild
I sometimes wish we’d never come here at all.
I see a little chicken tikka on the side
Rogan Josh, Rogan Josh, pass the chutney made of mango
Vindaloo does nicely Very very spicy Meat!
Byriani (Byriani) Byriani (Byriani)
Byriani and a naan (A vindaloo loo loo loo)
I’ve eaten balti, somebody help me
He’s eaten balti, get him to the lavatory
Stand you well back ’Case the loo is quarantined...
Here it comes There it goes Technicolour yawn
I chunder No! It’s coming up again (There he goes)
I chunder, it’s coming back again (There he goes)
Coming back again (up again)
Here it comes again. (No no no no no no NO)
On my knees, I’m on my knees
On his knees, Oh, there he goes
This vindaloo Is about to wreck my guts
Poor me. Poor me...poor meee!
So you think you can chunder and then feel alright?
So you try to eat curry and drink beer all night?
Oh maybe, But now you’ll puke like a baby
Just had to come out
It just had to come right out in here.
Slow bit
Korma, sag or bhuna bhaji, balti or naan
Nothing makes a difference
Nothing makes a difference
To meee....
Any way, my wind blows....shshshsh
Brenda Kahn : Epiphany in Brooklyn
Song two : Mojave winters
There's a man, a shaking cigarette
An unshaven face, I'll never forget
I give him a dollar, he gives me a look like
I'll get out by hook or crook
He says I'd grow lemon trees in a desert
Days fly past and words fall slow
I'd have me Mojave winters
I'd never feel lonesome I'd never feel cold
Jackie tends bar on Ludlow street
She only breaks ice when the poet speak
It's so loud you can't hear your own heartbeat
There's a beggar's hand on every corner of
Every street
He says I'd grow lemon trees in a desert...
Across the world in a dry dark heather
The day is breaking blue and cold
There's a grey mist, the sun has kised
The mountains and I, are growing old
Don't you think...
Don't you think it's hard enough
People sleeping on the streets
Kids looking tough
Noone down here is keeping score
Could'nt you just love me one night more
I'd grow lemon trees in a desert.....
I'd never feel lonesome... I'd never feel lonesome...
Tom Waits - "Mr Seagal"
I spent all my money in a Mexican whore house
across the street from a catholic church ,
and I wiped off my revolver
now puttin' on my burgudy shirt .
I shot the mornin' in the back with my red wings on ,
told the sun he better go back down .
If I could find a book of matches
I'm gonna burn this hotel down .
You got to tell me , brave captian ,
why are the wicked so strong ?
How do the angels get to sleep
when the devil leaves his porch light on ?
Well I dropped thirty grand on the Nugget slots
and had to sell my ass on Fremont Street .
And the drummer said "Hey saxman(?)
Boy I had to beg that room !
There's one for the money ,
two for the show ,
three to get ready ,
and go man go !
I said "Tell me , Mr Seagal '
How do I get out of here ?"
Well the pitboss says I should keep moving on ,
this is where you go when you die .
Willy's knocked out on a bottle of heat
drivin' dangerous curves across a dirty sheet .
He says , "Man you oughta see her when her parents are gone .
Man you oughta hear her when the sirien's on !"
I said ' "Tell me , brave captian ,
why why are the wicked so strong ?
How do the angels get to sleep
when the devil leaves his porch light on ?"
Don't you know there ain't no broken bottles
that I pick up in my headlights
on the other side of the Nevada line ?
where they live or die young ;
have a good lookin' corpse every time .
Well you know the pitboss says I should keep movin'
this is where you go when you die .
So I shot a black beauty
and kissed her right between the eyes .
Oh Willy's knocked out on a bottle of heat ,
drivin' dangerous curves across a dirty sheet .
He says "When the bitch is wound up
and her parents are gone ,
man , you ought to hear her with the sirien on !"
I said , "Tell me , brave captian ,
why are the wicked so strong ?
How do the angels get to sleep
when the devil leaves his porch light on ?"
I spent all my money , now ,
in a Mexican whore house
across the street from a catholic church .
And I wiped off my revolver
and put it under my burgundy shirt .
I shot the mornin' in the back
with my redwings on .
Told the sun he'd better go back down .
If I can find a book of matches
I'm going to burn this hotel down .
And it's one for the money ,
two for the show ,
three to get ready
I said go , man , go !
I said , "Tell me , Mr Seagal ,
How do I get out of here ?"