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Posted By	Discussion Topic: Songs for a Monday...
TheGooch Mullet Master Yo Gooch, Moron here... how's that for some fucked up shit... Fez is giving you status... Karma sucks, huh?	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 10:13 AM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00	BOB DYLAN Jokerman Standing on the waters casting your bread While the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing. Distant ships sailing into the mist, You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing. Freedom just around the corner for you But with the truth so far off, what good will it do? Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. So swiftly the sun sets in the sky, You rise up and say goodbye to no one. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread, Both of their futures, so full of dread, you don't show one. Shedding off one more layer of skin, Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within. Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. You're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds, Manipulator of crowds, you're a dream twister. You're going to Sodom and Gomorrah But what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry your sister. Friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame, You look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name. Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy, The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers. In the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed, Michelangelo indeed could've carved out your features. Resting in the fields, far from the turbulent space, Half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face. Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh. oh. oh. Jokerman. Well, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame, Preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first is uncertain. Nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks, Molotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain, False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin, Only a matter of time 'til night comes steppin' in. Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. It's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray, A woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet. He'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat, Take the motherless children off the street And place them at the feet of a harlot. Oh, Jokerman, you know what he wants, Oh, Jokerman, you don't show any response. Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. The Kinks Destroyer Met a girl called Lola and I took her back to my place Feelin' guilty, feelin' scared, hidden cameras everywhere Stop! Hold on. Stay in control Girl, I want you here with me But I'm really not as cool as I'd like to be 'Cause there's a red, under my bed And there's a little yellow man in my head And there's a true blue inside of me That keeps stoppin' me, touchin' ya, watchin' ya, lovin' ya Paranoia, the destroyer. Paranoia, the destroyer. Well I fell asleep, then I woke feelin' kinda' queer Lola looked at me and said, "ooh you look so weird." She said, "man, there's really something wrong with you. One day you're gonna' self-destruct. You're up, you're down, I can't work you out You get a good thing goin' then you blow yourself out." Silly boy ya' self-destroyer. Silly boy ya' self-destroyer Silly boy you got so much to live for So much to aim for, so much to try for You blowing it all with paranoia You're so insecure you self-destroyer (And it goes like this, here it goes) Paranoia, the destroyer (Here it goes again) Paranoia, the destroyer Dr. Dr. help me please, I know you'll understand There's a time device inside of me, I'm a self-destructin' man There's a red, under my bed And there's a little green man in my head And he said, "you're not goin' crazy, you're just a bit sad 'Cause there's a man in ya, knawin' ya, tearin' ya into two." Silly boy ya' self-destroyer. Paranoia, the destroyer Self-destroyer, wreck your health Destroy friends, destroy yourself The time device of self-destruction Light the fuse and start eruption (Yea, it goes like this, here it goes) Paranoia, the destroyer (Here's to paranoia) Paranoia, the destroyer (Hey hey, here it goes) Paranoia, the destroyer (And it goes like this) Paranoia, the destroyer (And it goes like this.) Prodigy Fuel My Fire I've got word of thanks, thanks that I'd like to say, for the rage that I feel, the rage that I feel today. Gotta stack, gotta stack, stack of chips on my shoulder, in everything I do 'cause I made, I made, I made the mistake of trusting you. People like you just fuel my fire. People like you just fuel my fire. People like you just fuel my fire. People like you just burn. Yeah, my layers are thick, And I got a bad attitude. Yeah, that knife in my back, has fingerprints that belong to you, Got a grudge, got a grudge, got a grudge that I'm holding, for as long as I live, 'cause you lied, you lied, you lied to my face, and that's something I can't forgive. People like you just fuel my fire. People like you just fuel my fire. People like you just fuel my fire. People like you just burn!
TheGooch Mullet Master Yo Gooch, Moron here... how's that for some fucked up shit... Fez is giving you status... Karma sucks, huh?	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 10:43 AM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00	LIVE White, Discussion I talk of freedom You talk of the flag I talk of revolution You'd much rather brag And as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse continue to dampen the day The coin flips again and again, and again, and again as our santity walks away All this discussion Though politically correct Is dead beyond destruction Though it leaves me quite erect And as the final sunset rolls behind the earth And the clock is finally dead I'll look at you, you'll look at me and we'll cry a lot But this will be what we said This will be what we said Look where all this talking got us baby
adolescentmasturbator	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 11:34 AM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Jan. 01	After gooch is done there isnt going to be any more songs to post here. E-Mail Me IM me at stickysituation2 The Fourth International Is At Hand. The Beatiful Hand of Socialism Will Come and Sweep Away the Imperialist Pigs. Crush Your Oppressors.
TheGooch Mullet Master Yo Gooch, Moron here... how's that for some fucked up shit... Fez is giving you status... Karma sucks, huh?	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 1:16 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00	That's why I call the topic SONGS (plural) =) ... BECK Ramshackle You've been so long Your blind eyes are gone Your old bones are on their own So take off your coat Put a song in your throat Let the dead-beats pound all around We will go Nowhere we know We don't have to talk at all Hand me downs Flypaper towns Stuck together One and all The bargains you drive Buckets and bags And all your belongings Your train's in the sand Ramshackle land Let the rats watch the races We will go Nowhere we know 'Til we find our one and all Hand me downs Flypaper towns Stuck together One and all Praises get spent Your trick face is bent Pigsties and prizes 'Cause there's no kind of 'well' You're suiting yourself You leave yourself behind We will go Nowhere we know 'Til we find our one and all Your hand me downs Flypaper towns Stuck together One and all MARCY PLAYGROUND DOG AND HIS MASTER Hey little boy see the Johnny and Janes Hey little boy you see them all go insane Look and see Spot run 'Cause he pissed in their hallway Run Spot run Run away from it all And I say you can be anyway that you wanna be How I'll be, that's up to me Hey little girl see them all run around Hey little girl you see them all tumble down Johnny will boss Janey will buy Spot will beg But everyone dies As I said you can be any way that you wanna be How I'll be, tha's up to me One little, two little, three little idiots Four little, five little, six little idiots Seven little, eight little, nine little idiots All in suit and tie One little, two little, three little idiots Four little, five little, six little idiots Seven little, eight little, nine little idiots All dressed up to die, and I say You can be any way that you wanna be But how I'll be, that's up to me This message was edited by TheGooch on 4-23-01 @ 1:27 PM
adolescentmasturbator	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 1:27 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Jan. 01	What all out of Incubus songs? Devil's Haircut Something's wrong 'cause my mind is fading And everywhere I look there's a dead end waiting Temperature's dropping at the rotten oasis Stealing kisses from the leperous faces Heads are hanging from the garbage man trees Mouthwash jukebox gasoline Cystals are pointing at a poor man's pockets Smiling eyes ripping out of his sockets Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Love machines on the sympathy crutches Discount orgies on the dropout buses Hitching a ride with the bleeding noses Coming to town with the brief case blues Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Something's wrong 'cause my mind is fading Ghetto-blasting disintegrating Rock 'n' roll, know what I'm saying And everywhere I look there's a devil waiting Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Got a devil's haircut in my mind Devil's haircut, in my mind Devil's haircut, in my mind Devil's haircut, in my mind The New Pollution She's got cigarette on each arm She's got the lily-white cavity crazes She's got a carborator tied to the moon Pink eyes looking to the food of the ages She's alone in the new pollution She's alone in the new pollution She's got a hand on a wheel of pain She can talk to the mangling strangers She can sleep in a fiery bog Throwing troubles to the dying embers She's alone in the new pollution She's alone in the new pollution She's alone in the new pollution She's alone in the new pollution She's got a paradise camouflage Like a whip-crack sending me shivers She's a boat through a strip-mine ocean Riding low on the drunken rivers She's alone in the new pollution She's alone in the new pollution E-Mail Me IM me at stickysituation2 The Fourth International Is At Hand. The Beatiful Hand of Socialism Will Come and Sweep Away the Imperialist Pigs. Crush Your Oppressors.
Sloatsburgh	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 4:11 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00	Shouldn't "Songs for a Monday..." include, I don't know, hmmm.... "I don't like Mondays"? "I use you for good board I'm not your friend" Guided by Dryblood.
TheGooch Mullet Master Yo Gooch, Moron here... how's that for some fucked up shit... Fez is giving you status... Karma sucks, huh?	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 5:16 PM
O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00	ummm...nope. RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE Testify The movie ran through me The Glamour subdue me The tabloid untie me Im empty please fill me Mister anchor assure me That Baghdad is burning Your voice it is so soothing That cunning mantra of killing I need you my witness To dress this up so bloodless To numb me and purge me now Of thoughts of blaming you Yes the car is our wheelchair My witness your coughing Oily silence mocks the legless Boys who travel now in coffins On the corner (corner) The jurys sleepless (sleepless) We found your weakness (weakness) And its right outside your door Now testify Now testify Its right outside your door Now testify Yes testify Its right outside your door With precision you feed me My witness Im hungry Your temple it calms me So I can carry on My slaving, sweating, The skin right off my bones On a bed of fire Im choking On the smoke that fills my home The wrecking ball is rushing Witness your blushing The pipeline is gushing While here we lie in tombs While on the corner (corner) The jurys sleepless (sleepless) We found your weakness (weakness) And its right outside your door Now testify Yeah testify Its right outside your door Now Testify Now Testify And its right outside your door Mass graves for the pump and the price is set, and the price is set Mass graves for the pump and the price is set, and the price is set Mass graves for the pump and the price is set, and the price is set Mass graves for the pump and the price is set, and the price is set Who controls the past now controls the future Who controls the present now controls the past Who controls the past now controls the future Who controls the present now? Now Testify Testify Its right outside your door Now Testify Testify Its right outside your door
punkrocker	posted on 04-23-2001 @ 6:24 PM
Psychopath Registered: Jan. 01	A Real Monday Song THANK GOD IT'S MONDAY by NOFX I’m gonna tell you what I really think I like about Monday Cause they fell like Saturdays When you don’t have to go to work, every day is a holiday I wake up when I want to, I do anything I wanna do Can’t wait for Tuesday I really don’t like Fridays I can’t do what I wanna do Sold out at the movies, can’t eat at the restaurant Everybody wants to party, but the bar’s full of cigarette smoke I think I’ll stay home, I think I’ll wait for Monday I live a five day weekend, I gotta year long holiday Thanks god it’s Monday The only place I gotta be is the show or on the first tee Thank god it’s Monday Never mind aggravation, just give me modulation gimmie another key I’ll tell you why I like Tuesdays, cause they’re kinda like Christmas Come to think about Wednesdays, are a little like Hanakah Thursdays thanksgiving, I’m talking about good living I think I’ll give thanx Thank god it’s Monday CLAMS HAVE FEELINGS TOO (ACTUALLY THEY DON'T) Birds are dumb cause small bird brains But so are kids and old people Some birds talk, most others sing I don’t see you eating a talking bird Pigs smell bad and roll in pooh But so do kids and elderly I don’t see you chop of an old man’s feet Put them in a mason jar and pickle them No chowder for you, cause clams have feelings too Actually they don’t have central nervousness No manhatten style, clams have the right to smile Come to thin about it they don’t have a face They have no face, no place for ears There’s no clam eyes to cry clam tears No spixal cord, they must get bored Might as well just put them out of misery Although the world could be more selfish I guess it’s alright to eat shellfish No chowder for you, cause clams have feelings too I could happen to you, clams have feelings too I don’t think they do, clams have feelings too I Hate Punk Rock

Displaying 1-8 of 8 messages in this thread.