Great rhymes
‘Gonna put on the iron shirt, chase Satan out of Earth’
'Now I guess I better tell ‘em, I ain’t got no cerebellum’
and all time great, from a wonderful song -
‘Tell me who I have to be, to gain some reciprocity’
Rock me Joseph, Alberto, Santiago
If Man is five, if Man is five, if Man is five
Then the Devil is six, then the Devil is six
The Devil is six, the Devil is six and if the Devil is six
Then God is seven , then God is seven
Her words still dance inside my head,
Her comb still lies beside my bed.
And the sun comes up without her, it just doesn’t know she’s gone,
But I remember everything she said.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfill the book.
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I was under the Calvary Cross
The pale-faced lady she said to me
I’ve watched you with my one green eye
And I’ll hurt you ‘till you need me
You scuff your heels and you spit on your shoes
You do nothing with reason
One day you catch a train
Never leaves the stationEverything you do
Everything you do
You do for me
I have the invitation that you sent me,
You wanted me to see you change your name.
I couldn’t stand to see you wed another,
But dear I hope you’re happy just the same.
I began to warm and chill
To objects and their fields,
A ragged cup, a twisted mop
The face of Jesus in my soup
Those sinister dinner deals
The meal trolley’s wicked wheels
A hooked bone rising from my food
All things either good or ungood.
All of the ones
The ones I don’t know
what song they’re from
seem to suck v.bad
like dominos pizza
The best bit is delivery
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I dim all the lights and I sink in my chair.
The smoke from my cigarette climbs through the air.
The walls of my room fade away in the blue,
And I’m deep in a dream of you.
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They sit in a building as old as time
And sing and pray to their God
Just to stop there being and end to life
When they lay the final sod.
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I see you standin’ there
You think you’re so cool
Why don’t you just
Fuck off
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Ya get nothin’ for nothin’
If that’s what ya do
Turn around bitch I got a use for you
Besides you ain’t got nothin’ better to do
And I’m bored
So save your breath, I will not hear.
I think I made it very clear.
You couldn’t hate enough to love.
Is that supposed to be enough?
I only wish you weren’t my friend.
Then I could hurt you in the end.
I never claimed to be a saint…
Crushed between the velvet sheets
The lucky music maker meets
His Match of The Day.
He lies she lies through crooked teeth and
Shouts abuse from underneath
The weight of his frame.
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Can’t you see I’m easily bothered by persistence
One step from lashing out at you…
You want in to get under my skin
And call yourself a friend
I’ve got more friends like you
What do I do?
Is there no standard anymore?
What it takes, who I am, where I’ve been belong?
You can’t be something you’re not
Be yourself, by yourself
Stay away from me
A lesson learned in life
Known from the dawn of time
And he says the flavour’s flambouyant
Each sip sweetly poignant with a wave of the hand and a flick of the fringe
It baffles the quibblers, nit-pickers, nut-nibblers and unusual weapon to choose for a binge
Would these words sound the same on high street in broad daylight
But nothing escapes the ears of a playwright
He listens intently from the backseat of a Bentley
Let this feeling of change take hold of me gentlyNow there’s fog on the Isis and the poets all blush
This scene is straight from the stroke of an impressionists brush
And now his glass is sat there next to mine
30mls of vodka lemonade and grenadine
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Originally posted by @Goatboy
"Don’t you never say my little girl’s name in a song again!
Fuckin’ punk pussy little bitch!
I’ll fuck you up boy!
Never! Never in your muthafuckin life!
I’ll choke the shit outchu little muthafuckin bitch!”
You’re getting very alpha these days, Goaters…
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It’s my mid life crisis. Can’t afford a sports car so I’m relying on Eminem for kicks.
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There you all go…spouting all these fine high fallutin’ sentiments when, truth be told, the only one you’ll remember tomorrow is…
Hot Dog,
Jumping Frog,
Alberquerque.
…see fuckin’ genius. 