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  1. #1
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    Lyrics that tell stories

    I've always been interested in songs that tell complete stories or provide really strong vuisual images. I thought it would be fun (and inspirational) to have a thread where we share lines and lyrics from songs that would make a great movie or novel...lyrics that seem to capture an entire story in just a few lines.

    So here's a starter:

    That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
    Races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
    He rides `er low on the hip, on the side he's got Bound For Glory in red, white and blue flash paint
    He leans on the hood telling racing stories, the kids call him Jimmy The Saint
    Well the blaze and noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
    He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point


    Springsteen; "Lost in the Flood"; Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. ~! 1973

    Full lyrics here

    Edit: And this just how fucking cool this song is...Live 1975

    Last edited by JeffX99; May 24th, 2012 at 04:24 PM.
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  3. #2
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    My favorite song for story telling is
    Everything Went Numb by Streetlight Manifesto

    The only song I've heard that's flat out about robbing a bank which I found interesting
    not really a full movie worth of imagery but at least a bank robbing scene lol.


    and the story goes like this: everything went numb for the money and the guns
    and everytime he'd think it out: "there's nothing to worry about
    get in the van, don't deviate from the plan
    if everything goes smooth then you'll walk away a rich man"
    so it begins, everybody walks in
    could this be the way or the day that the underdog wins?
    i think not, so i bet on the feds because the black hat men never win in the end

    ski mask (check)
    sawed off (check)
    guilty conscience, fear of death (check check check)
    everything went numb when he stumbled upon what he thought
    was going to be another means to the end
    silence
    sirens
    it all went down like his nightmare the night before
    i don't want to hear
    i don't want to be near
    i do what i got to do just to keep my nose clean



    there's more but I don't want to post really long lyrics here.

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    How about The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald?


    The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
    Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
    The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
    When the skies of November turn gloomy

    With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
    Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
    That big ship and true was a bone to be chewed
    When the gales of November came early.


    Lyrics:
    http://www.gordonlightfoot.com/wreck...tzgerald.shtml



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  6. #4
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    Definitely Vineris!

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  7. #5
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    Here are some.

    Good ol' Tom Waits:

    Operator, number, please:
    It's been so many years
    Will she remember my old voice
    While I fight the tears?
    Hello, hello there, is this Martha?
    This is old Tom Frost,
    And I am calling long distance,
    Don't worry 'bout the cost.
    'Cause it's been forty years or more,
    Now Martha please recall,
    Meet me out for coffee,
    Where we'll talk about it all.

    And those were the days of roses,
    Poetry and prose and Martha
    All I had was you and all you had was me.
    There was no tomorrows,
    We'd packed away our sorrows
    And we saved them for a rainy day.

    And I feel so much older now,
    And you're much older too,
    How's your husband?
    And how's the kids?
    You know that I got married too?
    Lucky that you found someone
    To make you feel secure,
    'Cause we were all so young and foolish,
    Now we are mature.

    And those were the days of roses,
    Poetry and prose and Martha
    All I had was you and all you had was me.
    There was no tomorrows,
    We'd packed away our sorrows
    And we saved them for a rainy day.

    And I was always so impulsive,
    I guess that I still am,
    And all that really mattered then
    Was that I was a man.
    I guess that our being together
    Was never meant to be.
    And Martha, Martha,
    I love you can't you see?

    And those were the days of roses,
    Poetry and prose and Martha
    All I had was you and all you had was me.
    There was no tomorrows,
    We'd packed away our sorrows
    And we saved them for a rainy day.

    And I remember quiet evenings
    Trembling close to you.




    And some of you may find this disquieting (because frankly it is) but it's hard to beat the lyrical virtuosity of Scott Walker. He works on these lyrics for years and years and in the chanson tradition all of the music is entirely composed to fit the lyrics, not the other way around.

    Birds
    Birds
    This is not a cornhusk doll
    Dipped in blood in the moonlight
    Like what happen in America
    This is us
    Our eyesides snagged
    Dipped in mob in the daylight
    Like what happen in America
    The breasts are still heavy
    The legs long and straight
    The upper lip remains short
    The teeth are too small
    The eyeside is green
    The hair long and black
    Still coming through
    Still coming through
    She knows this room
    She can navigate it in the dark
    She entered the Palazzo at night by a side door
    To ascend to a lift in the upper floor
    She lies on the bed
    Looking up not yet seeing
    The signs of the zodiac painted in gold
    On the blue vaulted ceiling
    His enormous eyes as he arrives
    Coming nearer in the surrounding darkness
    His strange beliefs about the moon
    Its influence upon men of affairs
    The danger of its cold light on your face
    While you were sleeping
    She'll eclipse it with her head
    Stroke him while he sleeps
    Until he has nothing to do among men of affairs
    Sometime before dawn
    Her bare feet cross the floor
    She gazes from the window
    At the fountain in the courtyard
    Sometimes I feel like a swallow
    A swallow which by some mistake
    Has gotten into an attic
    And knocks its head against the walls in terror
    This is not a rabbit skinned
    With a body of silver
    Like what happen in America
    The breasts are still heavy
    The legs long and straight
    The upper lip remains short
    The teeth are too small
    The eyeside is green
    The hair long and black
    Still coming through
    Still coming through
    The mood soon changed
    In the clear morning air
    A man came up towards the body
    And poked it with a stick
    It rocked swiftly
    And twisted around at the end of the rope
    Finer than a hair from every side
    Finer than a hair
    Birds
    Birds
    This is just a cornhusk doll
    Dipped in blood in the moonlight
    This is just a cornhusk doll
    This morning in my room
    A little swallow was trapped
    It flew around desperately
    Until it fell exhausted on my bed
    I picked it up
    So as not to frighten it
    I opened the window
    Then I opened my hand




    And here's an old one from Scott, based off of Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal.

    Anybody seen a knight pass this way
    I saw him playing chess with Death yesterday
    His crusade was a search for God and they say
    It's been a along way to carry on

    Anybody hear of plague in this town
    The town I've left behind was burned to the ground
    A young girl on a stake her face framed in flames cried
    I'm not a witch God knows my name

    The knight he watched with fear
    He needed to know
    He ran where he might feel God's breath
    And in the misty church
    He knelt to confess
    The face within the booth was Mr. Death

    My life's a vain pursuit of meaningless smiles
    Why can't God touch me with a sign
    Perhaps there's no one there answered the booth
    And Death hid within his cloak and smiled

    This morning I played chess with Death said the knight
    We played that he might grant me time
    My bishop and my knight will shatter his flanks
    And still I might feel God's heart in mine

    And through confession's grille Death's laughter was heard
    The knight cried No you've cheated me!
    But still I'll find a way
    We'll meet once again and once again
    Continue to play

    They met within the woods the knight his squire and friends
    And Death said now the game shall end
    The final move was made
    The knight hung his head
    And said you've won I've nothing left to play

    The minstrel filled with visions sang to his love
    To look against the stormy sky
    The knight his squire and friends
    Their hands held as one
    Solemnly danced toward the dawn

    His hourglass in his hand his scythe by his side
    The master Death he leads them on
    The rain will wash away the tears from their faces
    And as the thunder cracked they were gone




    Last edited by OldJake666; May 24th, 2012 at 08:50 PM.
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    The first time I heard Hero of War by Rise Against, it told a powerful story to me and continues to do so today.

    He said, “Son,
    Have you see the world?
    Well, what would you say
    If I said that you could?
    Just carry this gun and you'll even get paid.”
    I said, “That sounds pretty good.”

    Black leather boots
    Spit-shined so bright
    They cut off my hair but it looked alright
    We marched and we sang
    We all became friends
    As we learned how to fight

    A hero of war
    Yeah that's what I'll be
    And when I come home
    They'll be damn proud of me
    I'll carry this flag
    To the grave if I must
    Because it's flag that I love
    And a flag that I trust

    I kicked in the door
    I yelled my commands
    The children, they cried
    But I got my man
    We took him away
    A bag over his face
    From his family and his friends

    They took off his clothes
    They pissed in his hands
    I told them to stop
    But then I joined in
    We beat him with guns
    And batons not just once
    But again and again

    A hero of war
    Yeah that's what I'll be
    And when I come home
    They'll be damn proud of me
    I'll carry this flag
    To the grave if I must
    Because it's flag that I love
    And a flag that I trust

    She walked through bullets and haze
    I asked her to stop
    I begged her to stay
    But she pressed on
    So I lifted my gun
    And I fired away

    The shells jumped through the smoke
    And into the sand
    That the blood now had soaked
    She collapsed with a flag in her hand
    A flag white as snow

    A hero of war
    Is that what the see
    Just medals and scars
    So damn proud of me
    And I brought home that flag
    Now it gathers dust
    But it's a flag that I love
    It's the only flag I trust

    He said, “Son, have you seen the world? Well what would you say, if I said that you could?

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    Memory comes when memory's old
    I am never the first to know
    Following the stream up North
    Where do people like us float

    There is room in my lap
    For bruises, asses, handclaps
    I will never disappear
    Forever, I'll be here

    Whispering
    Morning, keep the streets empty for me

    I'm laying down eating snow
    My fur is hot, my tongue is cold
    On a bed of spider web
    I think of how to change myself

    A lot of hope in a one man tent
    There's no room for innocence
    Take me home before the storm
    Velvet mites will keep us warm

    Whispering
    Morning, keep the streets empty for me

    Uncover our heads and reveal our souls
    We were hungry before we were born
    It's about a deer.



    Obvious



    A great warrior laments about how even with all his conquests, he still hasn't found peace in life. In order to "cross the river" he must forgo the use of all the things that won him earthly battles.

    "Astronomy offers an aesthetic indulgence not duplicated in any other field. This is not an academic or hypothetical attraction and should require no apologies, for the beauty to be found in the skies has been universally appreciated for unrecorded centuries."
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    This one always makes me want to giggle.

    Barenaked Ladies- Bank Job
    ...I was the driver; you ran the show
    You had the last word, the go or no go
    I knew every laneway in Ontario
    But it's not what you're sure of, it's what you don't know
    It should have been filled with the usual ones
    Throwing their cash into mutual funds
    We all had our ski masks and sawed-off shotguns
    But how do you plan for a bank full of nuns?

    Well, I guess we panicked - we all have taboos
    And they were like zebras; they had us confused
    We should be in condos with oceanfront views
    Instead we're most-wanted on the six o'clock news...

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    Artist: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo
    Album: Wanted: Dead or Alive
    Song: Streets of New York

    In the streets of New York
    Dope fiends are leaning for morphine
    The TV screen followed the homicide scenes
    You live here, you're taking a chance
    So look and I take one glance, there's a man inside an ambulance
    Crowds are getting louder, I wonder how the
    People want to go fight for the white powder
    People hanging in spots
    They waited until the blocks got hot
    And got raided by the cops
    I'll explain the man sleeping in the rain
    His whole life remains inside a bottle of Night Train
    Another man got his clothes in a sack
    Cause he spent every dime of his rent playing blackjack
    And there's the poor little sister
    She has a little baby daughter
    Named Sonya and Sonya has pneumonia
    So why's her mother in a club unzipped though?
    Yo that's her job, Sonya's mommy is a bar stripper
    Drug dealers drive around looking hard
    Knowing they're sending their brothers and sisters to the graveyard
    Everyday is a main event, some old lady limps
    The pushers and pimps eat shrimps
    It gets tiring, the sight of a gun firing
    They must desire for the sound of a siren
    A bag lady dies in an alleyway
    She's seen the last of her days inside the subways
    More and more down the slope, the kid couldn't cope
    So he stole somebody's dope and a gold rope
    Now my son's on the run, he's a wanted one
    Had fun then was done by a shotgun
    Upstairs I cover my ears and tears
    The man downstairs must have drank too many beers
    Cause every day of his life he beats his wife
    Till one night she decides to pull a butcher knife
    Blind man plays the sax
    A tune called “The Arms on My Moms Show Railroad Tracks”
    Many lives are cut short
    That's when you're living
    In the streets of New York



    Baby needs new shoes
    But his papa uses all the money for booze
    A young girl is undressed in the back seat of a Caddy
    Calling some man Daddy
    Three men slain inside an apartment
    All you could see was the sparks when it darkened
    Daylight broke, cops roll on the scene
    The drug war, daily routine
    Gambling spots, just a poor man's jackpot
    You winning a lot, you get shot
    The drug dealing fanatics
    But you don't want no static
    Cause they got crack addicts with automatics
    Shoot-outs for a desire for territory
    A kid got caught in the crossfire
    A tired mother can't take no more
    She grab the bottle full of sleeping pills and took about 24
    Human beings are laying on the pavement
    Cause they're a part of a mental enslavement
    The cop snipers, little babies in dirty diapers
    This type of life is making you hyper
    People scouting a torched-out building
    And got killed when the cold air filled in
    Is hell really suggested?
    No more persons arrested, a child molested
    A little kid says, "Yo
    I got a color TV, CD player and car stereo
    And all I want is a castle
    I also got a .38, don't give me no hassle"
    One kid heads straight for the top
    And gets stopped and popped by a crooked cop
    Look behind you when you walk
    That's how it is in the streets of New York


    "Everything must serve the idea. The means used to convey the idea should be the simplest and clear. Just what is required. No extra images. To me this is a universal principle of art. Saying as much as possible with a minimum of means."
    -John Huston, Director
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  17. #11
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    I always thought Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner would make a good CA Character of the Week challenge.

    Warren Zevon, "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner"

    Roland was a warrior from the Land of the Midnight Sun
    With a Thompson gun for hire, fighting to be done
    The deal was made in Denmark on a dark and stormy day
    So he set out for Biafra to join the bloody fray

    Through sixty-six and seven they fought the Congo war

    With their fingers on their triggers, knee-deep in gore
    For days and nights they battled the Bantu to their knees
    They killed to earn their living and to help out the Congolese

    Roland the Thompson gunner...


    His comrades fought beside him - Van Owen and the rest

    But of all the Thompson gunners, Roland was the best
    So the CIA decided they wanted Roland dead
    That son-of-a-bitch Van Owen blew off Roland's head

    Roland the headless Thompson gunner

    (Time, time, time for another peaceful war)
    Norway's bravest son
    (But time stands still for Roland 'til he evens up the score)
    They can still see his headless body stalking through the night
    In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun

    Roland searched the continent for the man who'd done him in

    He found him in Mombassa in a barroom drinking gin
    Roland aimed his Thompson gun - he didn't say a word
    But he blew Van Owen's body from there to Johannesburg

    Roland the headless Thompson gunner...


    The eternal Thompson gunner

    still wandering through the night
    Now it's ten years later but he still keeps up the fight
    In Ireland, in Lebanon, in Palestine and Berkeley
    Patty Hearst heard the burst of Roland's Thompson gun and bought it


    Here's Warren doing the song on Letterman in 2003. It was his last performance.



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    Chris de Burgh, in the good old days when he still wrote cool songs, wrote plenty such ballads, e.g. "Girl with April in her eyes," "The Tower," "Just another poor boy," etc.

    These are from the 1970s, and despite their popularity were more or less impossible to get hold of for decades, until YouTube arrived on the scene.

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    Excellent call Tristan! That is one I've always seen as a noir film. I've even sketched scenes I've wanted to paint inspired by that song.

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    Someone who was very influenced by Scott Walker; Tons of David Bowie albums/songs, especially from Space Oddity, The man who sold the world (probably my favourite album to imagine to. The whole concept that someone had the power to actually sell the world to someone, an alien race or something, and it had already been done but no one knew about it and it was done by a small insignificant looking man absolutely blew my 8 year old mind to pieces), Aladdin Zane, Ziggy Stardust, Hunky Dory Diamond Dogs ( about a post apocalyptic Manhattan ravages with gangs) etc. Too many individual songs to name here, but when I was a kid my dad would put earphones on me and Id listen and movies would play in my minds eye. They are almost like post apocalyptic Philip K Dick novels. I saddens me that some kids grow up without amazing things like that in their lives. Also, back then, you had NOTHING but the album art and the lyrics, all the imagining was done by your brain, nothing was pre-fed or pre-imagined for you.

    The Supermen (inspired by Lovecraft, something I didn't know about at the time)



    When all the world was very young
    And mountain magic heavy hung
    The supermen would walk in file
    Guardians of a loveless isle
    And gloomy browed with superfear their tragic endless
    lives
    Could heave nor sigh
    In solemn, perverse serenity, wondrous beings chained to life

    Strange games they would play then
    No death for the perfect men
    Life rolls into one for them
    So softly a superGod cries

    Where all were minds in uni-thought
    Powers weird by mystics taught
    No pain, no joy, no power too great
    Colossal strength to grasp a fate
    Where sad-eyed merment tossed in slumbers
    Nightmare dreams no mortal mind could hold
    A man would tear his brother's flesh, a chance to die
    To turn to mold.

    Far out in the red-sky
    Far out from the sad eyes
    Strange, mad celebration
    So softly a supergod cries

    Far out in the red-sky
    Far out from the sad eyes
    Strange, mad celebration
    So softly a supergod dies


    All The Mad men



    Day after day
    They send my friends away
    To mansions cold and grey
    To the far side of town
    Where the thin men stalk the streets
    While the sane stay underground

    Day after day
    They tell me I can go
    They tell me I can blow
    To the far side of town
    Where it's pointless to be high
    'Cause it's such a long way down

    So I tell them that
    I can fly, I will scream, I will break my arm
    I will do me harm
    Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall
    I'm not quite right at all...am I?

    Don't set me free, I'm as heavy as can be
    Just my librium and me
    And my E.S.T. makes three

    'Cause I'd rather stay here
    With all the madmen
    Than perish with the sadmen roaming free
    And I'd rather play here
    With all the madmen
    For I'm quite content they're all as sane
    As me

    (Where can the horizon lie
    When a nation hides
    Its organic minds
    In a cellar...dark and grim
    They must be very dim)

    Day after day
    They take some brain away
    Then turn my face around
    To the far side of town
    And tell me that it's real
    Then ask me how I feel

    Here I stand, foot in hand, talking to my wall
    I'm not quite right at all

    Don't set me free, I'm as helpless as can be
    My libido's split on me
    Gimme some good 'ole lobotomy

    'Cause I'd rather stay here
    With all the madmen
    Than perish with the sadmen
    Roaming free
    And I'd rather play here
    With all the madmen
    For I'm quite content
    They're all as sane as me

    The Wild eyed boy from Freecloud (This and a few tracks from Ziggy Stardust like Soul Love, 5 years, Letters to Hermione) would always have me in tears by the end. Would make a good animated movie. There is an animated tribute to the song on YouTube, but I wont link that, let your brain do the magic!



    Solemn faced
    The village settles down
    Undetected by the stars
    And the hangman plays the mandolin before he goes to sleep
    And the last thing on his mind
    Is the Wild Eyed Boy imprisoned
    Neath the covered wooden shaft
    Folds the rope
    Into its bag
    Blows his pipe of smolders
    Blankets smoke into the room
    And the day will end for some
    As the night begins for one

    Staring through the message in his eyes
    Lies a solitary son
    From the mountain called Freecloud
    Where the eagle dare not fly
    And the patience in his sigh
    Gives no indication
    For the townsmen to decide
    So the village Dreadful yawns
    Pronouncing gross diversion
    As the label for the dog
    Oh It's the madness in his eyes
    As he breaks the night to cry

    It's really Me
    Really You
    And really Me
    It's so hard for us to really be
    Really You
    And really Me
    You'll lose me though I'm always really free

    And the mountain moved its eyes
    To the world of realize
    Where the snow had saved a place
    For the Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud

    And the village dreadful cried
    As the rope began to rise
    For the smile stayed on the face
    Of the wild eyed boy from freecloud

    And the women once proud
    Clutched the heart of the crowd
    As the boulders smashed down from the mountain's hand
    And the Magic in the stare
    Of the Wild Eyed Boy, said
    Stop, Freecloud
    They won't think to cut me down"
    But the cottages fell
    Like a playing card hell
    And the tears on the face
    Of the Wise Boy
    Came trembling down
    To the rumbling ground
    And the missionary mystic of peace/love
    Stumbled to cry among the clouds
    Kicking back the pebbles
    From the Freecloud mountain track

    Last edited by timpaatkins; May 26th, 2012 at 09:53 AM.
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    Anything by the Protomen. It's a rock opera inspired by Megaman.



    It starts in a city under the rule of an evil scientist, Doctor Wily. A good scientist named Doctor Light creates Proto man to combat oppression and regain freedom for mankind. However, Proto man is soon defeated and hope is lost...for now. It's what I imagine if someone took a Christopher Nolan-level of seriousness with Megaman.

    "Astronomy offers an aesthetic indulgence not duplicated in any other field. This is not an academic or hypothetical attraction and should require no apologies, for the beauty to be found in the skies has been universally appreciated for unrecorded centuries."
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  25. #16
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    Power Metal songs always have full on stories in their lyrics..... .... almost always dealing with dragons......

    Hell usually their entire albums are one big story.
    One from Dragonland.


    As the hordes of the night finally were defeated, nature was
    beginning on it's task to restore Dragonland to it's former
    grandeur and beauty. The sun reached the surface for the first
    time in a hundred years, revealing the scars the evil reign
    had bestowed upon the earth. But alas, we could yet again live
    as the free people we once were. Thus, fulfilling all of the
    lost saviour prophecies on but one aspect, I knew my quest
    was far from finished. As I kneeled in the bloodslaked soil of
    the battlefield, the sky itself seemed to open up an reach for
    me, call for me. After a moment of hesitance all was clear..."

    As this eternal struggle has come to end
    The light of life now shines upon us once again
    But can we truly be free of tyranny and grief?
    I see a thousand points of light reaching for me

    Now nature grows and blooms
    and people live again
    Yet this is not the end I feel it

    This power given to me is more than I can bear
    Unbidden flowing through my mind
    Divine it is but it could ruin this world
    I see a thousand points of light reaching for me

    Now nature grows and blooms
    and people live again
    Yet this is not the end I fear it

    I am the one to end this game
    This world will never be the same
    I have the power in my hands
    The Time has come to save all life
    I'll do what it takes no more lies
    I'll choose the destiny of Dragonland

    A thousand points of light
    the madness now have to end
    I've yet to destroy the ones, the Gods,
    responsible for this
    A thousand points of light
    my final quest is at hand
    To let people live their lives in peace
    without Gods and without me

    With great reluctance I reached into the light
    I rise up to the skies enraged and full of might
    They stand before me radiating azure-blue
    I'll fight them till the end, yes, that's what I must do

    And I shall rid this world
    of Gods to rule our lives
    So now the end is here I know it

    With all my force I strike them down
    They scream in anguish as they drown
    In fire they now turn to sand
    They beg for mercy I give none
    My live is over my quest done
    I've saved all living here in Dragonland

    A thousand points of light
    the madness now it has end
    I've yet to become one with
    all one with universe
    A thousand points of light
    Dragonland is at peace
    A thousand points of light
    is reaching for me


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    Ugh... I think it's been a few years since I've last heard a power metal song. I'd like to keep it that way.

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    This jolly song tells a nice story, from a father to his son, about how he met the kids mum, back in the day...
    Its off my all-time favourite album. I wonder how many other people heard this as kids in dads car, driving home from somewhere on a warm evening...



    Along come a young girl
    She's pretty as a prayerbook
    Sweet as an apple on Christmas day
    I said good gracious can this be my luck
    If that's my prayerbook
    Lord let us pray

    Last edited by Velocity Kendall; May 25th, 2012 at 06:54 AM.
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    /\ That brings back memories!

    This song is so cool and I love the lyrics...so much imagery comes to mind. I always get Tarantino/Rodriguez type scenes going on my head when it plays ..



    There are no lyrics I could find so I wrote them down so a couple of the words I didn't get.

    One day (i started walkin')
    On the street (you started talkin')
    Downtown (now we're movin')
    In the rain (now we're groovin')
    She smiled (nothin' hurtin')
    So fine (it beats a' workin')
    I knew (honey honey)
    she'd be mine (easy money)

    Full moon (she had a past)
    Red wine (a dark past)
    Hotel (she had a gun)
    Bad girl (a big gun)
    Room service (h*** trigger)
    I'm gettin' nervous (sh** ***it)
    All night (hammer down)
    Silk sheets (lead bullets)

    Instrumental

    Licquor store (she takes the money)
    Easy score (later honey)
    Drops her gun (in my lap)
    Takes off (I take the wrap)
    Hands up (in the night)
    Go to court (I lose the fight)
    I got no (consideration)
    Guilty by (association)

    Love comes (love comes)
    Love goes (love goes)
    She's gone to Mexico

    5 years (she left me hangin')
    Jail cell (doors a' bangin')
    Every night (I dream about her)
    I know (can't live without her)
    Right now (I gotta see her)
    She knows (I really need her)
    On the beach (by the water)
    That girl (the devils daughter)

    I'm bustin' out (I'm bustin' out)
    I gotta go (I gotta go)
    I got a card (I got a card)
    From Mexico (from Mexico)
    I got a card (I got a card)
    from Mexico (from Mexico)
    A POST card (a POST card)
    from Mexico (from Mexico)
    rpt to fade

    Last edited by Angel Intheuk; May 25th, 2012 at 12:18 PM.
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  31. #20
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    And just to lighten things up a bit, there's always Weird Al and Dr. Demento...

    The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota


    I put in a Slim Whitman tape, my wife put on a brand new hair net
    Kids were in the back seat jumping up and down,
    yelling "Are we there yet?"
    And all of us were joined together in one common thought
    As we rolled down the long and winding interstate in our '53 DeSoto
    We're gonna see the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota
    We're headin' for the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota




    Every time I listen to it I want to go for a road trip. Stop at every giant plaster statue and roadside pie stand I find. Buy homemade beef jerky in towns that consist of one gas station and three trailers.
    /weeps uncontrollably
    It's been a long winter.

    Anyway, there's also the Scotsman Song:


    About that time two young and lovely girls just happened by
    And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye
    See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built
    I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt
    Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
    I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt




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    Here ya' go, Jeff



    (90% of this stuff: oog.)

    Last edited by Elwell; May 25th, 2012 at 01:39 PM.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Elwell View Post
    Here ya' go, Jeff

    (90% of this stuff: oog.)
    Ha! Yeah...I've seen that one late at night...Only reason I don't have it is because I have each of those original CDs! Ooops, I mean, vinyl.

    (what is oog?...is that like, "groooan"?)

    What would Caravaggio do?
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    The entire damn album of the Decemberist's Hazards of Love. The terribly selfish queen of the forest who raises a baby to be fawn by day, man by night, a girl who captures his heart and becomes pregnant, the rake the queen brings to kidnap her away, and the terribly sad but eloquent end of the troubled couple.

    The riff that comes with the queen's entrances is awesome, and the backing music of the Rake's Song rocks. Finally, the Hazards of Love 4 is a beautiful end to the entire saga.

    I love this album.

    The man:
    "Mother I can hear your foot-fall now
    Soft disturbance in the dead-fall how
    It proceeds you like a black smoke pall
    Still the wanting comes in waves
    And you delivered me from danger then
    Pulled my cradle from the reedy glen
    Swore to save me from the world of men


    The girl, Margaret:
    "Gentle leaves, gentle leaves
    Please array a path for me
    The woods are blowing thick and fast around

    Columbine, Columbine
    Please alert this love of mine
    Let him know his Margaret comes along

    And all this stirring inside my belly
    Won't quell my want for love
    And I may swoon from all this swelling
    But I won't want for love"


    The Queen:
    "How I made you
    I wrought you, I pulled you
    From war I labored you
    From cancer I cradled you
    And now

    This is how I am repaid
    This is how I am repaid

    Remember when I found you
    The miseries that hounded you
    And I gave you motion
    Anointed with lotions
    And now

    This is how I am repaid
    This is how I am repaid"


    The Rake:
    "I had entered into a marriage
    In the summer of my twenty-first year
    And the bells rang for our wedding
    Only now do I remember it clear
    Alright, alright, alright

    No more a rake and no more a bachelor
    I was wedded and it whetted my thirst
    Until her womb start spilling out babies
    Only then did I reckon my curse
    Alright, alright, alright
    Alright, alright, alright"


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  37. #24
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    Quote Originally Posted by Elwell View Post

    (90% of this stuff: oog.)
    Here's to hoping you appreciate Tom Waits and Scott Walker. I think both have the chops to make it into many literature curriculums.

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    Tom Waits is 57 varieties of awesome. My comment was directed at what's included in that Time-Life collection. (And to be fair, it's more like 25% guilty pleasure, 25% legitimate pleasure, and 50% OMG KILL IT WITH FIRE!)

    Last edited by Elwell; May 25th, 2012 at 11:06 PM.

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    I'm glad that someone else here appreciates Warren Zevon and doesn't only know him for Werewolves of London.

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  42. #27
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    Those Time-Life collections at least contain what it says on the tin. Check this out:



    "That word, I do not think it means what you think it means."



    Tristan Elwell
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    These are for Elwell.

    A cry for help, a hint of anesthesia,
    The sound from broken homes,
    We used to always meet here.
    As he lays asleep, she takes him in her arms,
    Some things I have to do, but I don't mean you harm.

    A worried parent's glance, a kiss, a last goodbye,
    Hands him the bag she packed, the tears she tries to hide,
    A cruel wind that blows down to our lunacy
    And leaves him standing cold here in this colony.

    I can't see why all these confrontations,
    I can't see why all these dislocations,
    No family life, this makes me feel uneasy,
    Stood alone here in this colony.
    In this colony, in this colony, in this colony, in this colony.




    Asylums with doors open wide,
    Where people had paid to see inside,
    For entertainment they watch his body twist
    Behind his eyes he says, 'I still exist.'

    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.

    In arenas he kills for a prize,
    Wins a minute to add to his life.
    But the sickness is drowned by cries for more,
    Pray to God, make it quick, watch him fall.

    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.

    This is the way.
    This is the way.
    This is the way.
    This is the way.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.

    You'll see the horrors of a faraway place,
    Meet the architects of law face to face.
    See mass murder on a scale you've never seen,
    And all the ones who try hard to succeed.

    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.
    This is the way, step inside.

    And I picked on the whims of a thousand or more,
    Still pursuing the path that's been buried for years,
    All the dead wood from jungles and cities on fire,
    Can't replace or relate, can't release or repair,
    Take my hand and I'll show you what was and will be.




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  46. #29
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    Quote Originally Posted by Elwell View Post
    Those Time-Life collections at least contain what it says on the tin. Check this out:



    "That word, I do not think it means what you think it means."

    Lol yeah! Stick some hair gel on, spike your hair and chew gum...there you go! punk!

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    Yep have to agree Tom Waits is pretty damn awesome in my book!

    Tom Waits
    Mule Variations (1999)
    What's He Building?


    What's he building in there?
    What the hell is he building
    In there?
    He has subscriptions to those
    Magazines... He never
    Waves when he goes by
    He's hiding something from
    The rest of us... He's all
    To himself... I think I know
    Why... He took down the
    Tire swing from the Peppertree
    He has no children of his
    Own you see... He has no dog
    And he has no friends and
    His lawn is dying... and
    What about all those packages
    He sends. What's he building in there?
    With that hook light
    On the stairs. What's he building
    In there... I'll tell you one thing
    He's not building a playhouse for
    The children what's he building
    In there?

    Now what's that sound from under the door?
    He's pounding nails into a
    Hardwood floor... and I
    Swear to god I heard someone
    Moaning low... and I keep
    Seeing the blue light of a
    T.V. show...
    He has a router
    And a table saw... and you
    Won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw
    There's poison underneath the sink
    Of course... But there's also
    Enough formaldehyde to choke
    A horse... What's he building
    In there. What the hell is he
    Building in there? I heard he
    Has an ex-wife in some place
    Called Mayors Income, Tennessee
    And he used to have a
    consulting business in Indonesia...
    but what is he building in there?
    What the hell is building in there?

    He has no friends
    But he gets a lot of mail
    I'll bet he spent a little
    Time in jail...
    I heard he was up on the
    Roof last night
    Signaling with a flashlight
    And what's that tune he's
    Always whistling...
    What's he building in there?
    What's he building in there?

    We have a right to know...




    Classic Genesis with Gabriel at the helm:
    Lamb Lies down on Broadway (1974 )
    Fly on a windshield


    There's something solid forming in the air,
    And the wall of death is lowered in Times Square.
    No-one seems to care;
    They carry on as if nothing was there.

    The wind is blowing harder now,
    Blowing dust into my eyes.
    The dust settles on my skin,
    Making a crust I cannot move in
    And I'm hovering like a fly, waiting for the windshield on the freeway.

    Echoes of The Broadway Everglades
    With their mythical Madonna’s still walking in their shades:
    Lenny Bruce declares a truce and plays his other hand
    Marshall McLuhan, casual viewing', head buried in the sand.
    Sirens on the rooftops wailing, but there's no ships sailing.
    Groucho, with his movies trailing, stands alone with his punch line failing.

    Ku Klux Klan serve hot soul food and the band plays "in The Mood"
    The cheerleader waves her cyanide wand,
    There's a smell of peach blossom and bitter almond.
    Caryl Chessman sniffs the air, and leads the parade
    He knows, in a scent, you can bottle what you made!

    There's Howard Hughes in blue suede shoes
    smiling at the Majorette, smoking Winston cigarettes
    And as the song and dance begins, the children play at home
    with needles...Needles and pins



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