[Music] Best lyrics in a song

[n1 gull]

This is a bit route one but none the less simply sublime;

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die …

 

[studio150]

As I walk through this wicked world
Searching for light in the darkness of insanity
I ask myself is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred and misery?

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

Here's chilling. Let's see if anyone knows it. Clue, from the 1970s.

In Bromine Chambers
there can be no mercy,
no bitter flagellation for your sins;
no forgiveness and no sackcloth
can cease the dance
of ashes on the wind.

Too late now for a wish
to change all wishing;
too late to change, to breathe, to grow.
Too late to smother out the tell-tale footprints
which mark your passage through the greying snow.

 

[cheshunt seagull]

'The bxgger in the short sleeves fxxked my wife' opening line to John Cale's Guts which sets the scene nicely.
'How does it feel to be the mother of a 1000 dead' Crass's tribute to Thatcher.

I like this line from the new Divine Comedy album 'so they went to Cromer, got double pneumonia'

 

[Guinness Boy]

Your mother, call your mother
Even she’s surprised that this is
How you want to spend your nights indoors

You never call too often
What’s up, have you forgotten
What it’s like to have her on all fours
What’s eating you is a mystery
But go home with her one more time
And you know you’ll be history
She’ll never take you to
Giddy stratospheres

The sadly missed genius that was The Long Blondes


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

[Live by the sea]

Not sure if it's the lyrics or the musical arrangement but always feel alive when I hear this. Bryan ferry. Slave to love



Tell her I'll be waiting
In the usual place
With the tired and weary
There's no escape
To need a woman
You've got to know
How the strong get weak
And the rich get poor

Slave to love
oh, slave to love

you're running with me
Don't touch the ground
We're the restless hearted
Not the chained and bound
The sky is burning
A sea of flame
Though your world is changing
I will be the same

Slave to love
oh, slave to love
Slave to love (na na na na, na na na na)
slave to love (No I can't escape, i'm a slave to love)

The storm is breaking
Or so it seems

We're too young to reason
Too grown up to dream
Now spring is turning

Your face to mine
I can hear your laughter
I can see your smile

Slave to love (na na na na, na na na na)
slave to love (No I can't escape, i'm a slave to love)
Slave…

Source:*LyricFind

 

[marlowe]

This is a bit route one but none the less simply sublime;

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die …

And you have never been in love,
Until you've seen the dawn rise,
Behind the home for the blind

 

[marlowe]

I don't believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you
Not to touch a hair on your head
To leave you as you are
And if He felt He had to direct you
Then direct you into my arms

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

Sometimes it's very scary here; sometimes it's very sad;
Sometimes I think I'll disappear; betimes I think I have.
There's a line snaking down my mirror :
Splintered glass distorts my face,
And though the light is strong and strange
It can't illuminate the musty corners of this place.
There is a lofty, lonely, Lohengrenic castle in the clouds --
I draw my murky meanings there,
But seven years' dark luck is just around the corner
And in the shadows lurks the spectre of Despair.
A cracked mirror mid the drapes of the landing :
Split image, labored understanding ----
I'm only trying to find a place to hide my home ....
I've lived in houses composed of glass
Where every movement is charted,
But now the monitor screens are dark
And I can't tell if silent eyes are there.
My words are spiders upon the page,
They spin out faith, hope and reason ----
But are they meet and just, or only dust
gathering about my chair?
Sometimes I get the feeling that there's
Someone else there :
The faceless watcher makes me uneasy,
I can feel him through the floorboards,
and His presence is creepy ----
He informs me that I shall be expelled ....
What is that but out of and into :
I don't know the nature of the door that I'd go through,
I don't know the nature of the nature
that I am inside ....
I've lived in houses of brick and lead
Where all emotion is sacred,
And if you want to devour the fruit
You must first sniff at the fragrance
And lay your body before the shrine
With poems and posies and papers ----
Or, if you catch the ruse, you'll have to choose
To stay, a monk, or leave, a vagrant.
What is this place you call home?
Is it a sermon or a confession?
Is it the chalice that you use for protection?
Is it really only somewhere you can stay?
Is it a rule-book or a lecture?
Is it a beating at the hands of your Protector?
Does the idol have feet of clay?
Home is what you make it, so my friends
all say,
But I rarely see their homes in these dark days.
Some of them are snails and carry houses
on their backs;
Others live in monuments which, one day,
will be racks --
I keep my home in place with sellotape
and tin-tacks,
But I still feel there's some other Force here :
He who cracks the mirrors and moves the walls
Keeps staring through the eye-slits of the portraits
in my hall;
He ravages my library and taps the telephone --
I've never actually seen Him,
But I know He's in my home
And if he goes away,
I can't stay here either.
I believe -- er -- I think --
Well, I don't know ......
I only live in one room at a time,
But all of the walls are ears, all the windows, eyes :
Everything else is foreign,
'Home' is my wordless chant :
Mmmmmaah!
Give it a chance!
I am surrounded by flesh and bone,
I am a temple of living,
I am a hermit, I am a drone,
And I am boning out a place to be.
With secret garlands about my head
Unearthly silence is broken :
The room is growing dark, and in the stark light
I can see a face I know ----
Could this be the guy who never shows
The cracked mirror what he's feeling,
Merely mumbles prayers to the ground where
he's kneeling :
"Home is home is home is home is home is home is me!"
All you people looking for your houses,
Don't throw your weight around, you might
break your glasses
And if you do, you know you just can't see
And then how are you to find the dawning
of the day?
--- Day is just a word I use to keep the dark
at bay,
And people are imaginary, nothing else exists
Except the room I'm sitting in,
And, of course, the all-pervading mist ---
Sometimes I wonder if even that's real ....
Maybe I should de-louse this place;
Maybe I should de-place this louse;
Maybe I'll maybe my life away
In the confines of this silent house.
Sometimes it's very scary here; sometimes it's very sad;
Sometimes I think I'll disappear; sometimes I think ..... "

 

[marlowe]

Passions will part to a strange melody.
As fires will sometimes burn cold.
Like petals in the wind,
We're puppets to the silver strings of souls, of changes.

 

[Weststander]

When routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And resentment rides high
But emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways
Taking different roads
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Why is the bedroom so cold?
Turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect run so dry?
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through our lives
But love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Do you cry out in your sleep?
All my failings exposed
Gets a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
And it's something so good
Just can't function no more?
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear up apart again

 

[Weststander]

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, rolling into the night
People so busy, make me feel dizzy, taxi light shines so bright
But I don't, need no friends
As long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset, I am in paradise
Every day I look at the world from my window
Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine

Terry meets Julie, Waterloo Station, every Friday night
But I am so lazy, don't want to wander, I stay at home at night
But I don't, feel afraid
As long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset, I am in paradise
Every day I look at the world from my window
Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine

Millions of people swarming like flies 'round Waterloo underground
Terry and Julie cross over the river where they feel safe and sound
And they don't, need no friends
As long as they gaze on Waterloo Sunset, they are in paradise

 

[jakarta]

From Zappa Live in New York.

The Illinois Enema Bandit...

This is a true story
About a famous criminal
From right around Chicago
This is the story of Michael Kenyon
A man who's serving time at this very moment
For the crime of armed robbery
It so happened, that at the time of the robbery
Michael, decided to give his female victims
A little enema
Apparently, there was no law against that
But his name lives on
Michael Kenyon
THE ILLINOIS ENEMA BANDIT!"
The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard he's on the loose
I heard he's on the loose
Lord, the pitiful screams
Of all them college-educated women...
Boy, he'd just be tyin' 'em up
(They'd be all bound down!)
Just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag
fulla The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag
fulla The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag
fulla The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard it on the news
I heard it on the news
Bloomington Illinois... he has caused some alarm
Just sneakin' around there
From farm to farm
Got a rubberized bag
And a hose on his arm
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
The Illinois Enema Bandit
One day he'll have to pay
One day he'll have to pay
The police will say, "You're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The D.A. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "No poo-poo jokes!"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Sayin' "Don't nobody have no sympathy...
HOT SOAP WATER in the FIRST DEGREE!"
And then the bandit might say, "Why is everybody looking' at me?"
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS KINDA MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
Now, one girl shout: "Let the Bandit be!"
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY?
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY? TELL ME NOW, WHAT'S
YOUR PLEA?
Another girl shout: "Let the fiend go free!"
ARE YOU GUILTY? BANDIT, DID YOU DO THESE DEEDS?
The Bandit say, "It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..

 

[studio150]

Here's chilling. Let's see if anyone knows it. Clue, from the 1970s.

In Bromine Chambers
there can be no mercy,
no bitter flagellation for your sins;
no forgiveness and no sackcloth
can cease the dance
of ashes on the wind.

Too late now for a wish
to change all wishing;
too late to change, to breathe, to grow.
Too late to smother out the tell-tale footprints
which mark your passage through the greying snow.

Peter Hammill

 

[Norman Potting]

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, rolling into the night
People so busy, make me feel dizzy, taxi light shines so bright
But I don't, need no friends
As long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset, I am in paradise
Every day I look at the world from my window
Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine

Terry meets Julie, Waterloo Station, every Friday night
But I am so lazy, don't want to wander, I stay at home at night
But I don't, feel afraid
As long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset, I am in paradise
Every day I look at the world from my window
Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine

Millions of people swarming like flies 'round Waterloo underground
Terry and Julie cross over the river where they feel safe and sound
And they don't, need no friends
As long as they gaze on Waterloo Sunset, they are in paradise

How to make the mundane into poetry - the genius of the Kinks.

 

[studio150]

Sometimes it's very scary here; sometimes it's very sad;
Sometimes I think I'll disappear; betimes I think I have.
There's a line snaking down my mirror :
Splintered glass distorts my face,
And though the light is strong and strange
It can't illuminate the musty corners of this place.
There is a lofty, lonely, Lohengrenic castle in the clouds --
I draw my murky meanings there,
But seven years' dark luck is just around the corner
And in the shadows lurks the spectre of Despair.
A cracked mirror mid the drapes of the landing :
Split image, labored understanding ----
I'm only trying to find a place to hide my home ....
I've lived in houses composed of glass
Where every movement is charted,
But now the monitor screens are dark
And I can't tell if silent eyes are there.
My words are spiders upon the page,
They spin out faith, hope and reason ----
But are they meet and just, or only dust
gathering about my chair?
Sometimes I get the feeling that there's
Someone else there :
The faceless watcher makes me uneasy,
I can feel him through the floorboards,
and His presence is creepy ----
He informs me that I shall be expelled ....
What is that but out of and into :
I don't know the nature of the door that I'd go through,
I don't know the nature of the nature
that I am inside ....
I've lived in houses of brick and lead
Where all emotion is sacred,
And if you want to devour the fruit
You must first sniff at the fragrance
And lay your body before the shrine
With poems and posies and papers ----
Or, if you catch the ruse, you'll have to choose
To stay, a monk, or leave, a vagrant.
What is this place you call home?
Is it a sermon or a confession?
Is it the chalice that you use for protection?
Is it really only somewhere you can stay?
Is it a rule-book or a lecture?
Is it a beating at the hands of your Protector?
Does the idol have feet of clay?
Home is what you make it, so my friends
all say,
But I rarely see their homes in these dark days.
Some of them are snails and carry houses
on their backs;
Others live in monuments which, one day,
will be racks --
I keep my home in place with sellotape
and tin-tacks,
But I still feel there's some other Force here :
He who cracks the mirrors and moves the walls
Keeps staring through the eye-slits of the portraits
in my hall;
He ravages my library and taps the telephone --
I've never actually seen Him,
But I know He's in my home
And if he goes away,
I can't stay here either.
I believe -- er -- I think --
Well, I don't know ......
I only live in one room at a time,
But all of the walls are ears, all the windows, eyes :
Everything else is foreign,
'Home' is my wordless chant :
Mmmmmaah!
Give it a chance!
I am surrounded by flesh and bone,
I am a temple of living,
I am a hermit, I am a drone,
And I am boning out a place to be.
With secret garlands about my head
Unearthly silence is broken :
The room is growing dark, and in the stark light
I can see a face I know ----
Could this be the guy who never shows
The cracked mirror what he's feeling,
Merely mumbles prayers to the ground where
he's kneeling :
"Home is home is home is home is home is home is me!"
All you people looking for your houses,
Don't throw your weight around, you might
break your glasses
And if you do, you know you just can't see
And then how are you to find the dawning
of the day?
--- Day is just a word I use to keep the dark
at bay,
And people are imaginary, nothing else exists
Except the room I'm sitting in,
And, of course, the all-pervading mist ---
Sometimes I wonder if even that's real ....
Maybe I should de-louse this place;
Maybe I should de-place this louse;
Maybe I'll maybe my life away
In the confines of this silent house.
Sometimes it's very scary here; sometimes it's very sad;
Sometimes I think I'll disappear; sometimes I think ..... "

More Peter Hammill

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

Peter Hammill

Since it's you, I am confident you didn't have to look this up.

I saw him in London about ten years ago, when he played with Banton and Evans as VDGG (after the spat with Jaxon) and people gasped when the opening chords of that sprang up. 'No way are they going to attempt that! FFS.' They did. Gobsmacking.

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

Slightly less cerebral than bre'r Hammill

Soon I discovered that this rock thing was true
Jerry Lee Lewis was the devil
Jesus was an architect previous to his career as a prophet
All of a sudden, I found myself in love with the world
So there was only one thing that I could do
Was ding a ding dang my dang a long ling long

Ding dang a dong bong bing bong
Ticky ticky thought of a gun
Every time I try to do it all now baby
Am I on the run
Why why why why why baby
If it's so evil then?
Give me my time, with all my power
Give it to me all again (wow)
Ding a ding a dang a dong dong ding dong
Every where I go
Every time you tell me baby
When I settle down
Got to get me a trailer park
And hold my world around
Why why why why?
Ding ding dong dong dong ding dong
Dingy dingy son of a gun
Half my time I tell you baby
Never am I all for sure
Why why why why why baby
Sicky sicky from within
Every time I stick my finger on in ya
You're a wild wild little town bitch
Now how 'bout ding a dang dong dong dong ling long
Dingy a dingy dong a down
Every time you tell me baby
When I settle down
Got to get me a trailer park
And hold my world around
Why why why why?
In my dang a ding a ding a ding dong
A sticky sticky son of a gun
Ding a danga danga dong dong ding dong
Why why never know
Why why wack a dong a dang ding dong
Then you take it on the bill
Ding dang dong don't dong
Whoa!

I want to love ya!

Why why why, why why darling
Do you do you tell me to play?
Half the time I talk about it all now baby
You know what I'm talkin' about I said
Why why why it'll
Ticky ticky ticky ticky son of a gun
Ding ding dong a bong bong bing bong
Ticky ticky thought of a gun
Bing bing bang a bang a bang bing bong bing a bing bang a bong
Binga bing a bang a bong bong bing bong bing banga bong
Bing bing bang a bong bong bing bing binga binga banga bong
Bing bing bang a bang bang bing bong
Ding dang a dang bong bing bong
Ticky ticky thought of a gun
Every time I try to do it all now baby
Am I on the run
Why why why
It'll ticky ticky ticky ticky ticky ticky
Dawn of a gun
Bing bing bang a bong a bong bing bang a
Ticky ticky thought of a gun
Bing bip bip a bop bop boom bam
Ticky ticky through the day
If you got a doubt 'bout baby
The memory is on the bed
Why why why why why
Darlin' uh it don't know
When my time is on
Might tell me never do it on his own
If my time was all as is yours
Make me burn a wish
When my time with you is brutish
No I'll never not ever
Why why why why why why baby heavy hell
Alone and it's here it's this thunder
The thunder oh thunder
Oh!

Jesus built my car
It's a love affair
Mainly Jesus and my hot rod
Yeah, **** it!

 

[studio150]

As we're now onto songs about cars, a classic

I'm gonna tell you 'bout the car that I just bought
It's that Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot
Well, I'm gonna tell you 'bout the car that I now own
Well it doesn't go nowhere, it just stays all alone
You know, I like it
You know, I like it a whole lot

Well, that's my Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
My Dodge Veg-O-Matic, there in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You know, I like it
You know, I like to watch it rot

(I don't know why)

I'm gonna tell you 'bout a car you'd best not buy
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
The brakes'll fall off and you will sigh
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
I'm gonna tell you 'bout a car that you won't like
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You had best stay home, sir, better take your bike
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
I like it
I like it a lot

Because it's my Dodge Veg-O-Matic, it's there in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
My Dodge Veg-O-Matic, it's there in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You know, I like it, though, yes, I like it a lot

Tell 'em

Well, I'll meet you at seven in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
We can all just stand by my car, you know, and watch it rot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
Well, I'll see you now at seven, sir, don't be late
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
We'll stand there and watch my car vegetate
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You know, I like it
You know, I like it a lot

(let's do another verse)
Well, go ahead and buy it, don't listen to me, go ahead and do it
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You'll have it home five minutes and you'll know you blew it
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
See, the brakes are made of glass and tires are made of vinyl
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You'll want to take it back find out that all sales are final
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
You know, I like it, though
I like this car a lot

My Dodge Veg-O-Matic, it's there in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
It's my Dodge Veg-O-Matic, there in the parking lot
(Dodge Veg-O-Matic there in the parking lot)
Well, you know, I like it
I like it a lot

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

As we're now onto songs about cars,

Actually....I don't think the song was about cars.....