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What song are you playing right now?
- Thread starter No Ash More Cash
- Start date
I've posted this before but @SpectoVia reminded me of The Dead South..
these guys sound like they mean it
these guys sound like they mean it
Looking For Love In All The Wrong Places.....
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Wonder how long and how many mess ups b4 he got it all together.
Pretty cool though.
Ha-Ha had my ear plugs/phones in and up n dancing, LOL. Thanks, Hazy
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Always wanted to learn how to swing dance.....unfortunately didn'tYou're very welcome my friend...
now that I know you like swing boogie ...
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Spoons
Hurdy Gurdy
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Um, it is a picture. Where is the music?And now you can listen to the greatest.
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Man I love that album. Haven't heard it in yearsNeed to be spiritually motivated today and nothing can do this better than Ministry
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It started as a song.
Uncle Terry:
Hazy, that is badass! "touch" guitars have been around for almost 40 years. I have never seen one that wide....
Your Ethos
Your Pathos
Your Porthos
Your Aramis
Your Brut Cologne
You're writing home
You are hopeless
Your hopelessness
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the day time
Hey buddy, you need a hobby
You are tired of moving forward
You think of the future
And secretly you piddle your pants
The puddle of piddle
Which used to be little
Is rising around you, rising around you
You like it
It gives you something to do
In the night time
Well, you travel to bars
You also go to Winchell's Doughnuts
And hang out with the Highway Patrol
Sometimes you'll go to a pizza place
You go toSharkey's to get that
American kind of pizza
That has the ugly, waxey, fake yellow kind
Of yellow Cheese on the top...
Then you go to Straw Hat Pizza,
To get all of those artificial ingredients
That never belonged on a pizza in the first place
(But the white people really like it...)
Oh well, you'll go anyplace, you'll do anything
Oh you'll give me your underpants
I hope these aren't yours, buddy...
They're very nice, though
You'll go to Santa Monica Boulevard,
You'll go to the Blue Parrot
No problem, you'll go anyplace
You'll do anything
Just so you can hang out with the others
The others just like you
Afraid of the future
(Death Valley Days, straight ahead)
The future is scary
Yes, it sure is
Well, the puddle is rising
It smells like the ocean
A body of water to isolate England
And also Reseda
The oil, in patches
All over Atlantis, Atlantis
You remember Atlantis
Donovan, the guy with the brocade coat,
Used to sing to you about Atlantis
You loved it, you were so involved then
That was back in the days when you used to
Smoke a banana
You would scrape the stuff off the middle
You would smoke it
You even thought you was getting ripped from it
No problem
Ah Atlantis, they could really get down there
The plankton, the krill
The giant underwater pyramid, the squid decor
Excuse me. Todd
The big ol' giant underwater door
The dome, the bubbles, the blue light
Light, light, light, light
Blue light blue light
The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins
Your ethos, your pathos
Your flag hole, your port-hole
Your language
You're frightened
Your future
You can't even speak your own fucking language
You can't read it anymore
You can't write it anymore
Your language
The future of your language
Your meat loaf
Don't let your meat loaf
Heh, Heh, Heh
Your Micro-Nanette
Your Brut
Cologne
Three little girls from Monterrey, MX.
Dark and grey, an english film, the wednesday play
We always watch the queen on christmas day
Won't you stay?
Though your eyes see shipwrecked sailors you're still dry
The outlook's fine, though wales might have some rain
Saved again
Let's skip the news, boy (I'll make some tea)
The arabs and the jews, boy (too much for me)
They get me confused, boy (puts me off to sleep)
And the thing I hate, oh lord
Is staying up late, to watch some debate, on some nation's fate
Hypnotised by Batman, Tarzan, still surprised
You've won the west in time to be our guest
Name your prize
Drop of wine, a glass of beer, dear what's the time?
The grime on the tyne is mine, all mine, all mine
Five past nine
Blood on the rooftops, Venice in the spring
Streets of San Francisco, a word from Peking
The trouble was started by a young Errol Flynn
Better in my day, oh lord
For when we got bored, we'd have a world war, happy but poor
So let's skip the news, boy (I'll go make that tea)
Blood on the rooftops (too much for me)
When Old Mother Goose stops, they're out for twenty-three
Then the rain at Lords' stopped play
Seems Helen of Troy has found a new face again
Songwriters: PHILLIP DAVID CHARLES COLLINS, STEPHEN RICHARD HACKETT