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#76
02-16-2006, 05:29 PM
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Into The Mystic
By: Van Morrison We were born before the wind Also younger than the sun Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic Hark, now hear the sailors cry Smell the sea and feel the sky Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it I don’t have to fear it I want to rock your gypsy soul Just like way back in the days of old Then magnificently we will float into the mystic And when that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home And when thst fog horn whistle blows I got to hear it I don’t have to fear it I want to rock your gypsy soul Just like way back in the days of old And together we will float into the mystic Come on girl...
__________________
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#77
02-18-2006, 07:39 PM
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"Leaving Beirut" by Roger Waters
So we left Beirut, Willa and I He headed East to Baghdad and the rest of it I set out North I walked the five or six miles to the last of the street lamps And hunkered in the curb side dusk Holding out my thumb In no great hope at the ramshackle procession of home bound traffic Success! An ancient Mercedes 'dolmus ' The ubiquitous, Arab, shared taxi drew up I turned out my pockets and shrugged at the driver " J'ai pas de l'argent " " Venez! " A soft voice from the back seat The driver lent wearily across and pushed open the back door I stooped to look inside at the two men there One besuited, bespectacled, moustached, irritated, distant, late The other, the one who had spoken, Frail, fifty five-ish, bald, sallow, in a short sleeved pale blue cotton shirt With one biro in the breast pocket A clerk maybe, slightly sunken in the seat "Venez!" He said again, and smiled "Mais j'ai pas de l'argent" "Oui, Oui, d'accord, Venez!" Are these the people that we should bomb Are we so sure they mean us harm Is this our pleasure, punishment or crime Is this a mountain that we really want to climb The road is hard, hard and long Put down that two by four This man would never turn you from his door Oh George! Oh George! That Texas education must have ****ed you up when you were very small He beckoned with a small arthritic motion of his hand Fingers together like a child waving goodbye The driver put my old Hofner guitar in the boot with my rucksack And off we went " Vous etes Francais, monsieur? " " Non, Anglais " " Ah! Anglais " " Est-ce que vous parlais Anglais, Monsieur? " "Non, je regrette" And so on In small talk between strangers, his French alien but correct Mine halting but eager to please A lift, after all, is a lift Late moustache left us brusquely And some miles later the dolmus slowed at a crossroads lit by a single lightbulb Swung through a U-turn and stopped in a cloud of dust I opened the door and got out But my benefactor made no move to follow The driver dumped my guitar and rucksack at my feet And waving away my thanks returned to the boot Only to reappear with a pair of alloy crutches Which he leaned against the rear wing of the Mercedes. He reached into the car and lifted my companion out Only one leg, the second trouser leg neatly pinned beneath a vacant hip " Monsieur, si vous voulez, ca sera un honneur pour nous Si vous venez avec moi a la maison pour manger avec ma femme " When I was 17 my mother, bless her heart, fulfilled my summer dream She handed me the keys to the car We motored down to Paris, fuelled with Dexedrine and booze Got bust in Antibes by the cops And fleeced in Naples by the wops But everyone was kind to us, we were the English dudes Our dads had helped them win the war When we all knew what we were fighting for But now an Englishman abroad is just a US stooge The bulldog is a poodle snapping round the scoundrel's last refuge "Ma femme", thank God! Monopod but not queer The taxi drove off leaving us in the dim light of the swinging bulb No building in sight What the hell "Merci monsieur" "Bon, Venez!" His faced creased in pleasure, he set off in front of me Swinging his leg between the crutches with agonising care Up the dusty side road into the darkness After half an hour we'd gone maybe half a mile When on the right I made out the low profile of a building He called out in Arabic to announce our arrival And after some scuffling inside a lamp was lit And the changing angle of light in the wide crack under the door Signalled the approach of someone within The door creaked open and there, holding a biblical looking oil lamp Stood a squat, moustached woman, stooped smiling up at us She stood aside to let us in and as she turned I saw the reason for her stoop She carried on her back a shocking hump I nodded and smiled back at her in greeting, fighting for control The gentleness between the one-legged man and his monstrous wife Almost too much for me Is gentleness too much for us Should gentleness be filed along with empathy We feel for someone else's child Every time a smart bomb does its sums and gets it wrong Someone else's child dies and equities in defence rise America, America, please hear us when we call You got hip-hop, be-bop, hustle and bustle You got Atticus Finch You got Jane Russell You got freedom of speech You got great beaches, wildernesses and malls Don't let the might, the Christian right, **** it all up For you and the rest of the world They talked excitedly She went to take his crutches in routine of care He chiding, gestured We have a guest She embarrassed by her faux pas Took my things and laid them gently in the corner "Du the?" We sat on meagre cushions in one corner of the single room The floor was earth packed hard and by one wall a raised platform Some six foot by four covered by a simple sheet, the bed The hunchback busied herself with small copper pots over an open hearth And brought us tea, hot and sweet And so to dinner Flat, unleavened bread, + thin Cooked in an iron skillet over the open hearth Then folded and dipped into the soft insides of female sea urchins My hostess did not eat, I ate her dinner She would hear of nothing else, I was their guest And then she retired behind a curtain And left the men to sit drinking thimbles full of Arak Carefully poured from a small bottle with a faded label Soon she reappeared, radiant Carrying in her arms their pride and joy, their child. I'd never seen a squint like that So severe that as one eye looked out the other disappeared behind its nose Not in my name, Tony, you great war leader you Terror is still terror, whosoever gets to frame the rules History's not written by the vanquished or the damned Now we are Genghis Khan, Lucretia Borghia, Son of Sam In 1961 they took this child into their home I wonder what became of them In the cauldron that was Lebanon If I could find them now, could I make amends? How does the story end? And so to bed, me that is, not them Of course they slept on the floor behind a curtain Whilst I lay awake all night on their earthen bed Then came the dawn and then their quiet stirrings Careful not to wake the guest I yawned in great pretence And took the proffered bowl of water heated up and washed And sipped my coffee in its tiny cup And then with much "merci-ing" and bowing and shaking of hands We left the woman to her chores And we men made our way back to the crossroads The painful slowness of our progress accentuated by the brilliant morning light The dolmus duly reappeared My host gave me one crutch and leaning on the other Shook my hand and smiled "Merci, monsieur," I said " De rien " " And merci a votre femme, elle est tres gentille " Giving up his other crutch He allowed himself to be folded into the back seat again "Bon voyage, monsieur," he said And half bowed as the taxi headed south towards the city I turned North, my guitar over my shoulder And the first hot gust of wind Quickly dried the salt tears from my young cheeks.
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#78
02-18-2006, 07:45 PM
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Bob Dylan - If Not For You
If not for you, Babe, I couldn't find the door, Couldn't even see the floor, I'd be sad and blue, If not for you. If not for you, Babe, I'd lay awake all night, Wait for the mornin' light To shine in through, But it would not be new, If not for you. If not for you My sky would fall, Rain would gather too. Without your love I'd be nowhere at all, I'd be lost if not for you, And you know it's true. If not for you My sky would fall, Rain would gather too. Without your love I'd be nowhere at all, Oh! What would I do If not for you. If not for you, Winter would have no spring, Couldn't hear the robin sing, I just wouldn't have a clue, Anyway it wouldn't ring true, If not for you.
__________________
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#79
02-18-2006, 08:22 PM
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Jeremy Spencer & The Children
"Beauty For Ashes" (Jeremy Spencer/David Senek) My heart beats so fast whenever I'm with you And when I look into your eyes This must be the last night I'll spend with you Forgive me for making you cry I used to think I was really something I really thought I was so cool Thinking that you were the only one That ever needed this love But oh, how I need you Beauty for ashes, joy for sorrow The sweetest of songs must come from this pain We’ll see as the night passes Our love only grows when It's given to be returned again.
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#80
03-06-2006, 04:35 PM
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dont cry
GNR Talk to me softly There's something in your eyes Don't hang your head in sorrow And please don't cry I know how you feel inside I've I've been there before Somethin's changin' inside you baby And don't you know Don't you cry tonight I still love you Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight Give me a whisper And give me a sigh Give me a kiss before you tell me goodbye Don't you take it so hard now And please don't take it so bad I'll still be thinking of you And the times we had ... baby And don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tomight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight And please remember that I never lied And please remember How I felt inside now honey You gotta make it your own way But you'll be alright now sugar You'll feel better tomorrow Come the morning light now baby And don't you cry tonight An don't you cry tonight An don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry Don't you ever cry Don't you cry tonight Baby maybe someday Don't you cry Don't you ever cry Don't you cry Tonight
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#81
04-25-2006, 10:18 AM
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sweet child'omine...gnr
She's got a smile that it seems to me Reminds me of childhood memories Where everything Was as fresh as the bright blue sky Now and then when I see her face She takes me away to that special place And if I stared too long I'd probably break down and cry Sweet child o' mine Sweet love of mine She's got eyes of the bluest skies As if they thought of rain I hate to look into those eyes And see an ounce of pain Her hair reminds me Of a warm safe place Where as a child I'd hide And pray for the thunder And the rain To quietly pass me by Sweet child o' mine Sweet love of mine Where do we go Where do we go now Where do we go Sweet child o' mine http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjrbrbngSXY if anyone has the vid w/slash help me out w/it.
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#82
04-25-2006, 08:47 PM
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Honey Don't Think
Grant Lee Buffalo It's the luck of the draw How you wound up with me You don't know how at all But I beg you to stay Crawl around on this earth While the world's still small Honey don't think About it too long now Honey don't think You're liable to figure me out Something wrong in my stars Could you look at my chart Help me healing these scars Could you learn to read minds In the case of mine Do you read in the dark Honey don't think About it too long now Honey don't think You're liable to figure me out You don't wanna figure me out You don't wanna figure me out Don't wanna lose Honey don't think About it too long now Honey don't think You're liable to figure me out Honey don't think About it too long now (about it too long now) Honey don't think You're liable to figure me out Honey don't think About it too long Last edited by Richard B; 07-16-2008 at 04:05 PM..
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#84
04-25-2006, 08:57 PM
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Quote:
this is the initial post: Quote:
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#85
04-25-2006, 08:59 PM
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Laughing Wild - Julianna Raye
If not for you what bewildered eyes I'd see through You once wiped away the tears of confusion I now sing through While remembering those years Do you see me as a child Running free and laughing wild oh laughing wile Look inside to recall the life I come from Hold a mirror to your face to reveal the life I go to Lines of time we can't retrace May I see you as a child Running free and laughing wild oh laughing wild Hold me, lauhging like a child amdist the sorrows of the world See me, running like a child among the ruins Among the ruins Hide my eyes from the lonely world we live in Hold a candle to each face To reveal the light within them You have raised me in this place Now I see life as a child Running free and laughing wild oh laughing wild
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#86
04-25-2006, 09:32 PM
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Simon & Garfunkel — “The Dangling Conversation”
It’s a still life water color, Of a now late afternoon, As the sun shines through the curtained lace And shadows wash the room. And we sit and drink our coffee Couched in our indifference, Like shells upon the shore You can hear the ocean roar In the dangling conversation And the superficial sighs, Are the borders of our lives. And you read your emily dickinson, And I my robert frost, And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what we’ve lost. Like a poem poorly written We are verses out of rhythm, Couplets out of rhyme, In syncopated time Lost in the dangling conversation And the superficial sighs, Are the borders of our lives. Yes, we speak of things that matter, With words that must be said, Can analysis be worthwhile? Is the theater really dead? And how the room is softly faded And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand, You’re a stranger now unto me Lost in the dangling conversation. And the superficial sighs, In the borders of our lives.
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#87
04-25-2006, 09:34 PM
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Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone 'Neath the halo of a street lamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of silence And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence "Fools", said I, "You do not know Silence like a cancer grows Hear my words that I might teach you Take my arms that I might reach you" But my words, like silent raindrops fell And echoed In the wells of silence And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made And the sign flashed out its warning In the words that it was forming And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls And tenement halls" And whispered in the sounds of silence
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#88
04-25-2006, 10:39 PM
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Quote:
__________________
 moviekinks.blogspot.com
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#89
04-25-2006, 10:43 PM
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Quote:
The Morning Fog The light Begin to bleed, Begin to breathe, Begin to speak. Do you know what? I love you better now. I am falling Like a stone, Like a storm, Being born again Into the sweet morning fog. Do you know what? I love you better now. I'm falling, And I'd love to hold you know. I'll kiss the ground. I'll tell my mother, I'll tell my father, I'll tell my loved one, I'll tell my brothers How much I love them.
__________________
moviekinks.blogspot.com
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#90
04-25-2006, 11:19 PM
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Richard Cory (from Sounds of Silence 1966)
They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town, With political connections to spread his wealth around. Born into society, a banker's only child, He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style. But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be Richard Cory. The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes: Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show. And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht! Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he's got. But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be Richard Cory. He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch, And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much, So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read: "Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head." But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be Richard Cory.
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