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Heads

Papersnow
From no talking just heads
(a. partridge, c. frantz, j. harrison, t. blast murray, t. weymouth)
Andy partridge: vocals, whistles and lyrics
Tina weymouth: backing vocals and bass guitar
Blast murray: guitar
Chris frantz: bongos, drums and loops
Jerry harrison: keyboards
[transcribed by troy peters ]
Pink confetti, shotgun wedding
Rocket secrets someones shredding
Nineteenth floor.
Laundry ticket that exploded
Joust with quaker pamphlet goaded
Into war.
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade
Ankle deep through someone elses
Ticker tape parade
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Petals fell on petaluma
Till receipt from montezumas
Burger hut.
Every day a billion dollars
Fall as black and white blue-collars
Plough their rut.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade
Ankle deep through someone elses
Ticker tape parade
Jets folded from wall street journal
Shoot down cartons care of colonels
Chicken ranch.
Kleenex where the guys been cryin
Goodbye note from girl whos flyin
To new branch.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Letter that Id meant to send you
To torpedo and up-end you
Sheet by sheet.

[...] Read more

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Heads

Papersnow
From no talking just heads
(a. partridge, c. frantz, j. harrison, t. blast murray, t. weymouth)
Andy partridge: vocals, whistles and lyrics
Tina weymouth: backing vocals and bass guitar
Blast murray: guitar
Chris frantz: bongos, drums and loops
Jerry harrison: keyboards
[transcribed by troy peters <tpeters6@ix.netcom.com>]
Pink confetti, shotgun wedding
Rocket secrets someones shredding
Nineteenth floor.
Laundry ticket that exploded
Joust with quaker pamphlet goaded
Into war.
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade
Ankle deep through someone elses
Ticker tape parade
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Petals fell on petaluma
Till receipt from montezumas
Burger hut.
Every day a billion dollars
Fall as black and white blue-collars
Plough their rut.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade
Ankle deep through someone elses
Ticker tape parade
Jets folded from wall street journal
Shoot down cartons care of colonels
Chicken ranch.
Kleenex where the guys been cryin
Goodbye note from girl whos flyin
To new branch.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Letter that Id meant to send you
To torpedo and up-end you
Sheet by sheet.

[...] Read more

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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This Friendly World

R.E.M., Andy, Tony---This Friendly World
ANDY: Hi, Michael.
MICHAEL: Hi, Andy. Thanks for joining us. Do you
wanna ... you wanna sing a song together?
ANDY: Sure! Is it a sweet song?
MICHAEL: Yeah, it's real sweet.
ANDY: O.K.!
[They laugh.]
MICHAEL:
In this friendly, friendly world
With each day so full of joy
Why should any heart be lonely?
ANDY: My turn!
In this friendly, friendly world
With each night so full of dreams
Why should any heart be afraid?
The world is ...
MICHAEL ANDY:
... such a wonderful place
To wander through
When you've got someone you love
MICHAEL:
To wander along with you
ANDY: O.K., now take every second word! With ...
MICHAEL: ... the ...
ANDY: ... sky ...
MICHAEL: ... so ...
ANDY: ... full ...
MICHAEL: ... of ...
ANDY: ... stars
MICHAEL: And ...
ANDY: ... the ...
MICHAEL: ... river ...
ANDY: ... so ...
MICHAEL: ... full ...
ANDY: ... of ...
MICHAEL: ... song, Every ...
ANDY: ... heart ...
MICHAEL: ... should ...
ANDY: ... be ...
MICHAEL: ... so ...
ANDY: ... thankful
It's a friendly world! Don't you think so, Michael?
MICHAEL: Yup!
TONY: Oh yeah?! What's so friendly about it?!!
This is Tony Clifton, and, and I demand a part in
this song! I'm just as big a part of the movie as
these guys are! And, and I will not sit back while
some sought-after Colonel Kurtz wanna-be, uh, uh
has his day in the sun! I think he's enough

[...] Read more

song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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Healthy Back Bag

animated bag of chips
amor dive bag
american eagle outfitters bags
ambag poly bags wholesale
american airlines bag limits
american beauty plastic bag theme mp3
amf bowling bag
aluminum tab weave bag
ampac tote bags
american trails atv bag
american tourister bonneville ii garment bag
alt ieri bassoon bag
almond flavored tea bags
ameribag shoulder bags
a mco saddel bags 1977
an enema bag for men
amulet bag book
analyse art falconers bag
amy butler sweet life bag
alto sax bag
alpha kappa alpha diva tote bag
amylou bag in eureka ca
ani hand bags
american west rodeo bags
amex insurance for delayed bags
an interchangeable foundation bag
al verio martini bags
animal bag mp3
american trail ventures atv cargo bags
aluminium coated plastic bags
amy butlet runaway bag pattern
angel bag
animae bop bag
allowed to carry on garment bag
a nimal bag print tote
an imal overnight bag
aloksak bags
amz bag fun src
ameribag microfiber bag
american tourister laptop bag
allied waste service blue bags
american indian medicine bags
alternative to plastic trash bags
amish buggy bag
alpha poly bag
ammo shoulder bag
american sign language tote bags
animated gif people with hand bags
amazing bag grace pipe
altieri bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Drums of Battersea

They can’t hear in West o’ London, where the worst dine with the best—
Deaf to all save lies and laughter, they can’t hear in London West—
Tailored brutes and splendid harlots, and the parasites that be—
They can’t hear the warning thunder of the Drums of Battersea.
More drums! War drums!
Drums of Misery—
Beating from the hearts of men—the Drums of Battersea.
Where the hearses hurry ever, and where man lives like a beast,
They can feel the war-drums beating—men of Hell! and London East.
And the far-off foreign farmers, fighting fiercely to be free,
Found new courage in the echo of the Drums of Battersea.
More drums! War drums!
Beating for the free—
Beating on the hearts of men—the Drums of Battersea.

And the drummers! Ah! the drummers!—stern and haggard men are those
Standing grimly at their meetings; and their washed and mended clothes
Speak of worn-out wives behind them and of grinding poverty—
But the English of the English beat the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of agony—
The big bruised heart of England’s in the Drums of Battersea.

Where in fields slave Englishwomen, Oh! the sound of drums is there:
I have heard it in the laughter of the nights of Leicester Square—
Sailing southward with the summer, London but a dream to me,
Still I feel the distant thunder of the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of Liberty—
Rolling round the English world—the Drums of Battersea.

Oh! I heard them in the Queen’s Hall—aye! and London heard that night—
While we formed up round the leaders while they struck one blow for right!
And the old strength, that old fire, that I thought was dead in me,
Blazed up fiercely at the beating of the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
They beat for victory—
When above the roar of Jingoes rolled the Drums of Battersea.

And where’er my feet may wander, and howe’er I lay my head,
I shall hear them while I’m dreaming—I shall hear them when I’m dead!
For they beat for men and women, beat for Christ, and you and me:
There is hope and there is terror in the Drums of Battersea!
More drums! War drums!
Drums of destiny—
There’s hope!—there’s hope for England in the Drums of Battersea.

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Rhythm (feat. Ice-T, Donald D & Diva)

The rythm is both the songs manicle and it's demonic charge charge
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
I'm Everlast born to be a caucassion but it makes no difference what persuasion you are
As long as you know how to get up on the floor and start workin' a sweat
To a musical measure that makes you move as soon as the needle drops into the groove
So get up and dance to the gift I'm giving, forget about your troubles get into the rhythm
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Talking 'bout the rhythm (all we need is rhythm)
Yo, yo, you know what the world needs...we need peace, rhythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
The rythm
You linger for the rap singer, when Donald D brings the party to the deal my presence is felt world wide
You don't dance to this it's suicide
Put your hands into the air on, the M.C. cop, the girlies are pipen' hot
Natorious Lama is how I'm livin' don't step to me step to the rhythm

[...] Read more

song performed by Everlast
Added by Lucian Velea
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Andy Warhol

(this is andy warhole and its take one, take one)
Its, its warhol actually
(what did I say)
Whole, its whole as in wholes
(andy warhol)
Wah, andy war hol, andy war hol (he)
Like whole hub
He
Ha
Are you ready
(yeah)
Ha ha ha ha ha ha
Like to take a cement fix
Be a standing cinema
Dress my friends up just for show
See them as they really are
Put a peephole in my brain
Two new pence to have a go
Id like to be a gallery
Put you all inside my show
Andy warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy warhol, silver screen
Cant tell them apart at all
Andy walking, andy tired
Andy take a little snooze
Tie him up when hes fast asleep
Send him on a pleasant cruise (hm hm hm)
When he wakes up on the sea
He sure to think of me and you
Hell think about paint and hell think about glue
What a jolly boring thing to do
Andy warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy warhol, silver screen
Cant tell them apart at all
Andy warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy warhol, silver screen
Cant tell them apart at all
(handclaps)

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Killing Andy Warhol

Did you ever see the sun rise up
Above this blackened hole
Did you ever feel that what you wants
Not under your control
Ever think that how you feel
Is not quite what you are
Some of us are satellites
Some are superstars
Theyre killing andy warhol
Hes a saint and hes a thief
Well all die a million times
Thats what I believe
Killing andy warhol
Killing andy warhol
They say the rain in europe
Cools you down and helps you think
Water, water everywhere
Nothing you can drink
Kissing andy warhol
His skin feels like a shark
White hair sits so beautiful
Eyelids are so dark
And Im trying to get ahead
Like any boy or girl
Thered be no dictators anywhere
If I could rule the world
Killing andy warhol
Killing andy warhol
Thats impossible - he got all that money
Adorable - having all that money
Feasable - that its all black money
Its so criminal - making all that money
All I want, is what Id want
But I dont want that now
Theyre dressing andy warhol up
If only thay knew how
Jesus on the neon sign
Turns and starts to laugh
And Im thinking about this oxygen
And how Ill make it last
Killing andy warhol
Hes a saint - yeah hes a thief
Motorways are everywhere
With no clean air to breathe
Killing andy warhol
Killing andy warhol
Till the end of time
Till the end of time
Having all that money
Killing andy warhol

[...] Read more

song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Drums of Ages

Drums of all that’s right and wrong—of love and hate and scorn,
And the new-born baby hears them and it wails when it is born.
Drums of all that is to be, and all that has gone by,
And we hear them when we’re dreaming, and we hear them while we die.

Drums of martyred innocence and drums of driven guilt
Beating backward from the future when the first rude town was built;
Beating louder through the slave days and the dark and hungry nights,
While the hovels filled the valleys and the castles crowned the heights;
Beating louder while the mansions shifted east from miles of slums—
Don’t you hear them? Don’t you hear them? Don’t you hear the alley drums?

Drums of human sacrifice and drums of war at home—
While the Romans conquered nations they were beating loud in Rome.
Children heard them through the ages, mothers paused and glanced behind,
Madmen saw and heard the drummers, but the rest were deaf and blind.
Peasants starved on fields of plenty, workmen rotted in the slums—
Till the drummers came to Paris and the nations heard the drums.

Drums of hope and bursting hearts—the drums of Westward Ho!—
From the homes of generations and their native land they go.
’Groom and bride and grey-haired mother, bent old men who go alone—
Fleeing bitter persecution for the terrible unknown:
Seeking freedom, rest, or justice—and the peace that never comes—
And the wilderness was conquered when the pilgrims beat their drums.

Drums of Greed that followed fast where men had made the way,
Waking drums of stern rebellion when the exiles turned at bay,
Spreading death and desolation, breeding old-world hells anew,
Until England lost a nation for the blindness of a few.
Still the dirty Jewish talon reached from palaces and slums
Till a hundred thousand English died to stop the farmers’ drums.

Drums of tortured hearts o’ men—the drums that never ceased—
Throbbing through the British Empire from the heart of London East;
Growling louder still wherever, in the wake of those who lead,
Comes the murmur of the board-room and the stealthy steps of greed;
Growling through the Southern cities, murmuring in the Western gums,
Till the Empire falls to pieces at the beating of the drums!

Drums of all that’s right and wrong—of love and hate and scorn;
And the new-born baby hears them, and he wails when he is born.
Drums of all that is to be, and all that has gone by—
And we hear there when we’re dreaming, and we hear then while we die.

poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
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Guitar & Pen

Youre alone above the street somewhere
Youre alone above the street somewhere
Wondering how youll ever count out there
Wondering how youll ever count out there
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight
But inside youve got something to write
But inside youve got something to write
In your hand you hold your only friend
In your hand you hold your only friend
Never spend your guitar or your pen
Never spend your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
When you take up a pencil and sharpen it up
When you take up a pencil and sharpen it up
When youre kicking the fence and still nothing will budge
When youre kicking the fence and still nothing will budge
When the words are immobile until you sit down
When the words are immobile until you sit down
Never feel theyre worth keeping, theyre not easily found
Never feel theyre worth keeping, theyre not easily found
Then you know in some strange, unexplainable way
Then you know in some strange, unexplainable way
You must really have something
You must really have something
Jumping, thumping, fighting, hiding away
Jumping, thumping, fighting, hiding away
Important to say
Important to say
When you sing through the verse and you end in a scream
When you sing through the verse and you end in a scream
And you swear and you curse cause the rhyming aint clean
And you swear and you curse cause the rhyming aint clean
But it suddenly comes after years of delay
But it suddenly comes after years of delay
You pick up your guitar, you can suddenly play
You pick up your guitar, you can suddenly play
When your fingers are bleeding and the knuckles are white
When your fingers are bleeding and the knuckles are white
Then you can be sure, you can open the door
Then you can be sure, you can open the door
Get off of the floor tonight
Get off of the floor tonight

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Andy McElroe

My brother Andy said, that for a soldier he would go,
So great excitement came upon the house of McElroe.
My father sold a bog-hole to equip him for the war.
And my mother sold the cushions of her Sunday jaunting car.
And when brave Andy reach'd the front, 'twas furious
work he made,
They appointed him a private in the Crocodile Brigade.
The sound of Andy's battle cry struck terror thro' the foe.
His foot was on the desert and his name was McElroe.
At least that's what the letter said that came across the foam.
To Andy's anxious relatives awaiting him at home.
The papers say he ran away before he met the foe.
But that was quite unlike the style of Andy McElroe.

One morning brave Lord Wolseley for a battle felt inclined;
But all could see the general had something on his mind;
Sez he, 'My staff, 'twere dangerous to face yon deadly foe,
Unless we're sure that quite prepared is Andy McElroe.'
Then Andy cried, 'I'm here, my lord, and ready for the fray,'
'Advance then,' cried Lord Wolseley, 'and let every trumpet bray.'
Then England, Ireland, Scotland, rolled together on the foe,
But far ahead of everyone rushed Andy McElroe.
At least, that's what the letter said that came across the foam
To Andy's anxious relatives, awaiting him at home.
The government despatches had another tale- but no!
We won't believe a word against brave Andy McElroe.

The Mahdi had gone up a tree, a spyglass in his eye,
To see his Paynim chivalry the northern prowess try;
But soon he saw a form of dread, and cried in tones of woe,
'Be jabers let me out of this - there's Andy McElroe.'
Then down he hurried from his tree, and straight away he ran,
To keep appointments, as he said, in distant Kordofan,
And fled those Arab soldiery like sand siroccos blow,
Pursued (with much profanity) by Andy McElroe.
At least, that's what he told us when returning o'er the foam
To greet his anxious relatives, awaiting him at home.
So sing the song of triumph, and let all your bumpers flow,
In honour of our countryman, brave Andrew McElroe.

poem by William Percy French
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Cherry In Your Tree

Copyright 1993 emi virgin song inc. o.b.o.
Emi virgin limited
Composer: andy partridge
Andy partridge - vocals, guitar, percussion, claps
Colin moulding - bass, harmony vocals, claps
Dave gregory - good natured ghost effects
With
Brian doherty - drums
Garo yellin - cello
David yazbek - keyboards, backing vocals, claps
Sean altman - backing vocals
Produced by david yazbek
Chorus:
Cherry cherry in your tree
Jump down on the ground and make a pie with me
Cherry cherry in your tree
Jump down on the ground and make a pie with me
I got toys like the other boys
Come down from your tree now
I can set you free now
I got toys like the other boys
For baking love with you
For baking love with you
Chorus
Im the cook who wrote the book
Pour a little soul now
Right into the bowl now
Im the cook who wrote the book
On baking love with you
On baking love with you
Cherry in your tree now
Do you love just me now
Im the chef of the treble clef
Roll into the flour now
Knead it for an hour now

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Father Riley's Horse

'Twas the horse thief, Andy Regan, that was hunted like a dog
By the troopers of the upper Murray side,
They had searched in every gully -- they had looked in every log,
But never sight or track of him they spied,
Till the priest at Kiley's Crossing heard a knocking very late
And a whisper "Father Riley -- come across!"
So his Rev'rence in pyjamas trotted softly to the gate
And admitted Andy Regan -- and a horse!
"Now, it's listen, Father Riley, to the words I've got to say,
For it's close upon my death I am tonight.
With the troopers hard behind me I've been hiding all the day
In the gullies keeping close and out of sight.
But they're watching all the ranges till there's not a bird could fly,
And I'm fairly worn to pieces with the strife,
So I'm taking no more trouble, but I'm going home to die,
'Tis the only way I see to save my life.

"Yes, I'm making home to mother's, and I'll die o' Tuesday next
An' be buried on the Thursday -- and, of course,
I'm prepared to meet my penance, but with one thing I'm perplexed
And it's -- Father, it's this jewel of a horse!
He was never bought nor paid for, and there's not a man can swear
To his owner or his breeder, but I know,
That his sire was by Pedantic from the Old Pretender mare
And his dam was close related to The Roe.

"And there's nothing in the district that can race him for a step,
He could canter while they're going at their top:
He's the king of all the leppers that was ever seen to lep,
A five-foot fence -- he'd clear it in a hop!
So I'll leave him with you, Father, till the dead shall rise again,
Tis yourself that knows a good 'un; and, of course,
You can say he's got by Moonlight out of Paddy Murphy's plain
If you're ever asked the breeding of the horse!

"But it's getting on to daylight and it's time to say goodbye,
For the stars above the east are growing pale.
And I'm making home to mother -- and it's hard for me to die!
But it's harder still, is keeping out of gaol!
You can ride the old horse over to my grave across the dip
Where the wattle bloom is waving overhead.
Sure he'll jump them fences easy -- you must never raise the whip
Or he'll rush 'em! -- now, goodbye!" and he had fled!

So they buried Andy Regan, and they buried him to rights,
In the graveyard at the back of Kiley's Hill;
There were five-and-twenty mourners who had five-and-twenty fights
Till the very boldest fighters had their fill.
There were fifty horses racing from the graveyard to the pub,
And their riders flogged each other all the while.

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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High Price

Jerry Jerry your lifestyles hairy
how do your dope plants grow?
In cramped ceiling, under a naked bulb, my lady,
from little seeds all in a row.

Jerry Jerry your rather smelly
how are your dope plants sold?
By bountiful bagful, or in single rolls, to tally
Waitangi gold, is a trip, for joint discerning bold.

Jerry Jerry do you live in fear
do you feel hunted, with pouncing, policemen near?
The boys in blue, dance a merry, merry tune.
What’s a bust, may come yearly, like June?

Jerry Jerry one day all grow old
will you feel regret, for lives, you’ve sold?
I’ve been living high, flying in narcotic, sky seat.
Life’s been so very sweet, living with prepaid, heat.

Jerry Jerry a future comes, your days done,
there’s no place for you, under our sun?
There’s always a place, man in selective, supplying know.
There’re other trips, after poppy seeds, to sow.

Jerry Jerry it’s time now, you must go
tell of other pastures, you now will hoe?
Man’s full of lust, greed, ever fertile seed,
a high paying price, is charge for need.

No matter where man chance may roam.
A place is found, I’m right at home.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Big Ole Butt

I was at the mall, sippin on a milkshake
Playin the wall, takin a break
Admirin the girls with the bamboo earings
Baby hair and bodies built to swing
Thats when I seen her
Her name was tina
Grace and poise kinda like a ballerina
I said, how you doin, my names big l
Dont ask me how Im livin, cause, yo, Im living swell
But then again Im livin kind of foul
cause my girl dont know that Im out on the prowl
To make a long story short, I got the digits
Calls her on my car phone and paid her a visit
I was spankin her and thankin her, chewin her and doin her
Layin like a king on sheets of satin
Thats what time it is, you know whats happenin
She had a big ole booty, I was doin my duty
I mean, yo, I admit that my girls a cutie
But tina was erotic, earls my witness
With the kind of legs that put stockings out of business
When I went home, I kissed my girl on the cheek
But in the back of my mind it was this big butt freak
I sat my girl down, I couldnt hold it in
And said to her with a devilish grin...
Tina got a big ole butt
I know I told you Id be true
But tina got a big ole butt
So Im leavin you
Tina got a big ole butt
I know I told you Id be true
But tina got a big ole butt
So Im leavin you
I went to the high school about three oclock
To try to catch a cutie ridin my jock
My homeboys jeep, the system blastin
Cold forty dogs, smilin and laughin
Girls all over, the kind I adore
I felt like a kid in a candy store
Thats when I seen her
Her name was brenda
She had the kind of booty that Id always remember
I said to my man, stop the jeep
Shes only senteen but, yo, dont sleep
I kicked the bass like an nfl punter
And scoped the booty like a big game hunter
I said to the girl, yo, you look tired
Lets go get some rest, relax by the fire
I put the big booty on a bearskin rug
She gave me a kiss, I have her a hug
I said to the girl, them young boys aint nothin

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Papersnow

Pink confetti, shotgun wedding
Rocket secrets someones shredding
Nineteenth floor.
Laundry ticket that exploded
Joust with quaker pamphlet goaded
Into war.
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade
Ankle deep through someone elses
Ticker tape parade
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Petals fell on petaluma
Till receipt from montezumas
Burger hut.
Every day a billion dollars
Fall as black and white blue-collars
Plough their rut.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade
Ankle deep through someone elses
Ticker tape parade
Jets folded from wall street journal
Shoot down cartons care of colonels
Chicken ranch.
Kleenex where the guys been cryin
Goodbye note from girl whos flyin
To new branch.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Letter that Id meant to send you
To torpedo and up-end you
Sheet by sheet.
Tore up all the beg and bitter
Add them to the drift of litter
On your street.
Softly, softly, softly
Falls papersnow...
Softly, softly, softly
All of our works blow away...
Ankle deep we heroes amble
Ankle deep we wade

[...] Read more

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Andy Veto

Andy Veto never slept a wink last night;
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
Andy had to take us extra drink last night;
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
There was one who led you thro' the sea, you know,
He who paid his life, and left you free, you know;
But Andy V. receipts the bill, so he, you know--
Why, darkeys, he's your Moses!

Come! Come! Joshua, come!
Don't you think it's time the journey closes?
For you kwow we'll never stand in the promised land
While Andy Veto's our Moses.

Moses can't afford to let his people vote;
Darkey's, he's your Moses!
He must watch his little flock, his own scapegoat,
For, darkeys he's your Moses!
Thinking of you brings him wakeful nights, you know;
You might up and take your "civil rights," you know,
And make a "war of roses" with the whites, you know;
So, darkeys, he's your Moses!

Andy Veto thought he wore a crown last night;
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
When the people spoke, it tumbled down last night;
But, darkeys, he's your Moses!
Were it not a pretty sight--methinks I see
Thirty million loyal people, proud and free,
Around the throne of Andy Veto bend the knee;
Oh, darkeys, he's your Moses!

Andy Veto been a fishing for "another term;"
Darkeys, he's your Moses!
Guess that when vacation comes we'll change the firm,
If, darkeys, he's your Moses!
Ev'ry-thing is going wrong while Andy leads;
We must change the diet on which Andy feeds;
Ah! "reconstruction," that is just what Andy needs;
And, darkeys, he's your Moses!

poem by Henry Clay Work
Added by Poetry Lover
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No Good/start The Dance (Bad For You Mix)

Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.

[...] Read more

song performed by Prodigy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Demonstrate (Admiral Jerry)

Well Jerry at de mike come fe Demonstrate
Yes, Jerry at de mike me come fe Demonstrate
Me come fe show de crowd a people dat great is great
Right ya now Mr Jerry at go set tings straight
No MC test Jerry in a ATE
So listen dem ya styles I man originate
First of all me wan you know me na exaggerate
All pirate in de dance me would a evacuate
Is a whole leap a space I man accomodate
An a whole leap a gal I accumulate
Round de mile Jerry don't need no associate
Me chat by meself me no combinate
Me study very hard because me want graduate
Up de MC ladder I man Essulate
To be a boss MC I'm a chief candidate
True me fascinate nor irritate and me originate
Round de classic Micro-centre dat is where me locate
Me no select no tune an Jerry don't operate
Fe see me lift speaker - box you must fortunate
Cause asdedance down me gone home me gone go hibernate
Going home de other night me can't remember de date
De early hours of de morning before people a wake
Bopsing down de road it was me worst mistake
Police come draw down pon me an a investigate
Him say "Hey son where you coming from don't you know that it's late
I've heard about you niggers and the trouble you create"
I said "I'm coming from a party and me going home straight
Me just stop a de shop to buy some cigarette an chocolate"
When me explain de situation him stop interrogate
Turn around jump in a im panda car an say "See you mate!"
Is a good ting me never cheeky or be obstinate
Or me could a end up visiting de damn magistrate
De house way me live in you know it must decorate
An de girl way me love ave to affectionate
Nem ya linda lyrics you must penetrate
So listen every word I man and quotate
True me talking very clear you no need fe translate
Cause when me riding pon de riddim me no mek no mistake
Gasst contagious disease I man vaccinate
An true me no wan catch a dose me no fornicate
De lyrics way me chat dem must varinte
Some time me chat itslow sometime me accelerate
Dem ya kinds style you must appreciate
Nuff gal come to me a congratulate
Dem say "Jerry your so good looking can I have you portrait"
I say "Yes of course my darling but you know you have to wait"
Well dais a something I man have to state
A trollop is a woman with a whole heap a weight
Don't tell her to her face cause she will aggrovate
And if she sit down pon you you will suffocate

[...] Read more

song performed by Ub40
Added by Lucian Velea
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Talkin Talkin

Talking, talking
It doesnt really matter
If you know my name
It doesnt really matter
If you see things the same
As I do
It doesnt even matter
If Im tied and tense
It doesnt even matter
If Im still making sense
Over you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
Talking, talking
It doesnt matter
What the people
All around you say
Be careful how
You listen
They dont know you
The way that I do
And if you wanna
Talk about it baby
Thats alright
Its better if I say it
Than to sit down
And write it to you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
It can be that
Youre here with me
When Im standing out
On my own
The words of love
That you gage
When we were alone
It doesnt matter
If you want to
Rock and roll all night
I know youre gonna
Be there when the
Feeling is right
The feeling is right
The feeling is right
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking

[...] Read more

song performed by Moody Blues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Armenian Folk-Song--The Partridge

As beats the sun from mountain crest,
With 'pretty, pretty',
Cometh the partridge from her nest;
The flowers threw kisses sweet to her
(For all the flowers that bloomed knew her);
Yet hasteneth she to mine and me--
Ah! pretty, pretty;
Ah! dear little partridge!

And when I hear the partridge cry
So pretty, pretty,
Upon the house-top, breakfast I;
She comes a-chirping far and wide,
And swinging from the mountain side--
I see and hear the dainty dear!
Ah! pretty, pretty;
Ah! dear little partridge!

Thy nest's inlaid with posies rare.
And pretty, pretty
Bloom violet, rose, and lily there;
The place is full of balmy dew
(The tears of flowers in love with you!)
And one and all impassioned call;
'O pretty, pretty--
O dear little partridge!'

Thy feathers they are soft and sleek--
So pretty, pretty!
Long is thy neck and small thy breast;
The color of thy plumage far
More bright than rainbow colors are!
Sweeter than dove is she I love--
My pretty, pretty--
My dear little partridge!

When comes the partridge from the tree,
So pretty, pretty!
And sings her little hymn to me,
Why, all the world is cheered thereby--
The heart leaps up into the eye,
And echo then gives back again
Our 'Pretty, pretty,'
Our 'Dear little partridge!'

Admitting the most blest of all
And pretty, pretty,
The birds come with thee at thy call;
In flocks they come and round they play,
And this is what they seem to say--

[...] Read more

poem by Eugene Field
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