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Posted By	Discussion Topic: Turn The Page
Kim	posted on 04-04-2001 @ 7:54 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Jan. 01	Turn The Page On a long and lonesome highway East of Omaha You can listen to the engine Moanin' out it's one note song You can think about the woman Or the girl you knew the night before But your thoughts will soon be wandering The way they always do When you're riding sixteen hours And there's nothing much to do And you don't feel much like riding You just wish the trip was through Say here I am, on the road again There I am, up on the stage Here I go, playing star again There I go, turn the page Well you walk into a restaraunt Strung out from the road And you feel the eyes upon you As you're shaking off the cold You pretend it doesn't bother you But you just want to explode Most times you can't hear 'em talk Other times you can All the same old cliche's, Is that a woman or a man You always seem outnumbered So you don't dare make a stand Here I am, on the road again There I am, up on the stage Here I go, playing star again There I go, turn the page Out there in the spotlight You're a million miles away Every ounce of energy You try to give away As the sweat pours out your body Like the music that you play Later in the evening As you lie awake in bed With the echos from the amplifiers Ringin in your head You smoke the days last cigarette Remembering what she said Here I am, on the road again There I am, up on the stage Here I go, playing star again There I go, turn the page Here I am, on the road again There I am, up on the stage Here I go, playing star again There I go, there I go
Mi1o Yambag	posted on 04-04-2001 @ 11:03 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00	Night Moves I was a little too tall Could've used a few pounds Tight pants points hardly reknown She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes And points all her own sitting way up high Way up firm and high Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy Workin' on mysteries without any clues Workin' on our night moves Tryin' to make some front page drive-in news Workin' on our night moves In the summertime In the sweet summertime We weren't in love, oh no, far from it We weren't searchin' for some pie in the sky summit We were just young and restless and bored Livin' by the sword And we'd steal away every chance we could To the backroom, to the alley or the trusty woods I used her, she used me But neither one cared We were gettin' our share Workin' on our night moves Tryin' to lose the awkward teenage blues Workin' on our night moves And it was summertime And oh the wonder We felt the lightning And we waited on the thunder Waited on the thunder I awoke last night to the sound of thunder How far off I sat and wondered Started humming a song from 1962 Ain't it funny how the night moves When you just don't seem to have as much to lose Strange how the night moves With autumn closing in Smoke Weed Everyday
Mr. Brownstone	posted on 04-04-2001 @ 11:10 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Dec. 00	As I was goin' over the Cork and Kerry mountains I saw Captain Farrell and his money he was countin' I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier I said stand and deliver or the devil he may take ya I took all of his money and it was a pretty penny I took all of his money yeah I brought it home to Molly She swore that she'd love me, never would she leave me But the devil take that woman for you know she treat me easy Musha ring dum a doo dum a da Whack for my daddy-o Whack for my daddy-o There's whiskey in the jar-o Being drunk and weary I went to Molly's chamber Takin' my money with me and I never knew the danger For about six or maybe seven in walked Captain Farrell I jumped up, fired off my pistols and I shot him with both barrels Musha ring dum a doo dum a da Whack for my daddy-o Whack for my daddy-o There's whiskey in the jar-o Now some men like the fishin' and some men like the fowlin' And some men like ta hear, ta hear cannon ball a roarin' Me I like sleepin' specially in my Molly's chamber But here I am in prison, here I am with a ball and chain yeah Musha ring dum a doo dum a da Whack for my daddy-o Whack for my daddy-o There's whiskey in the jar-o Whiskey in the jar-o Musha ring dum a doo dum a da We'll roll on with our heads held high Our conscience in the gutter Our dreams up in the sky ---The Living End I see stupid people...They're everywhere...They don't know they're stupid...

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