He weighs heavy on my mind in this uncertain age.
Sometimes I think he just couldn't handle going around the second time.
If so I can understand why. It's a treadmill progress we're making.
Yeah...but you know what Edgar? I'm waxing nostalgic but I notice that kids nowadays don't have a zeal for truth and righteousness like we had.
Oh sure, I might be looking at a rose-colored rear view mirror, but we had a real hope that we could make a difference, a peaceful difference in the world.
Altruism.
A rare commodity these days. The struggle for food and shelter trumps idealism. And the new generations...well...they're the product of our very unhappy one with the divorce rates and single parents.
Nowadays the drive for consumer products doesn't leave much time for demonstrating.
Pete Townsend was right when he said "I hope I die before I get old". Who could have foreseen he was right. ..but for the wrong reasons.
Here's Pete . A little older. A little more cynical and a whole lot more subtle.
The sun shines
And people forget
The spray flies as the speedboat glides
And people forget
Forget they're hiding
The girls smile
And people forget
The snow packs as the skier tracks
And people forget
Forget they're hiding.
Behind an eminence front
Eminence front - it's a put on.
Come on join the party
Dress to kill
Won't you come and join the party
Dress to kill.
The drinks flow
People forget
That big wheel spins, the hair thins
People forget
Forget they're hiding
The news slows
People forget
The shares crash, hopes are dashed
People forget
Forget they're hiding.
Behind an eminence front
Eminence front - it's a put on
Come on join the party
Dress to
Come on join the party
Dress to
Come on join the party
Dress to
Come on join the party
Dress to kill
Dress yourself, dressed to kill.
We live very small lives now. All the big bold actions are corporate and government based.
THE TIDE IS TURNING (After Live Aid)
I used to think the world was flat
Rarely threw my hat into the crowd
I felt I had used up my quota of yearning
Used to look in on the children at night
In the glow of their Donald Duck light
And frighten myself with the thought of my little ones burning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning
Satellite buzzing through the endless night
Exclusive to moonshots and world little fights
Jesus Christ imagine what it must be earning
Who is the strongest, who is the best
Who holds the aces, the East or the West
This is the crap our children are learning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Now the satellite's confused
'Cos on Saturday night
The airwaves were full of compassion and light
And his silicon heart warmed
To the sight of a billion candles burning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
the tide is turning Billy
I'm not saying that the battle is won
But on Saturday night all those kids in the sun
Wrested technology's sword from the hand of the War Lords
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Sylvester
The tide is turning.
Words and music by Roger Waters
My Favorite Number Two song that tells a story is this one
We've all heard of Rudolph and his shiny nose
And we all know Frosty whose made out of snow
But all of those stories seem kind of... gay
Cuz we all know who brightens up our holiday
Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo
Small and brown he comes from you
Sit on the toilet here he comes
Squeeze him between your festive buns
A present from down below
Spreading joy with a "howdy ho"
He's seen the love inside of you
Coz he's a piece of poo
Sometimes he's nutty
Sometimes he's corny
He can be brown or greenish-brown (Mmm Mmm)
But if you eat fibre on Christmas eve he might come to your town
Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo
He loves me I love you
Therefore vicariously he loves you
I can make a Mr Hankey too!
(fart noise)
Cartman
Well Kyle where is he?
Kyle
He's comin'
Stan
C'mon dude push!
Kyle
Im trying!
Cartman
Oh wait wait I can see his head!
Kyle
HERE HE COMES!!
(fart noise)
Mr. Hankey
HOWDY HO!
I'm mr. hankey the Christmas Poo
Seasons greetings to all of you
Let's sing songs and dance and play
Now before I melt away
Here's a game I like to play
Stick me in your mouth and try to say
Howdey ho ho yum yum yum
Christmas time has come!
Sometimes he's runny
Sometimes he's firm
Sometimes he's practically water
Sometime he hangs off the end of your ass
and won't fall in the toilet
coz he's just clinging to your sphincter
and he wont drop off and so you
shake your ass around and try to get it to drop in the toilet
and finally it does
Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo
When Christmas leaves he must leave too
Flush him down but he's never gone
His smell and his spirit lingers on....
Howdy ho!
Well, good grief.
Throbber,
I don't mean to be a pain in the ass but for heaven's sake, you could at least post the artist's name.
Joeblow wrote:Well, good grief.
Throbber,
I don't mean to be a pain in the ass but for heaven's sake, you could at least post the artist's name.
Mr. Hanky silly. You are culturally deprived.
OH! Now your getting pissy, a clear violation of rule number two.
Joe you are so wrong....I am sincerely concerned about you, as good friends should be. If you pm me I will be glad to contact you with a total summarization of the life and times of Mr. Hanky.
That's what friends do, they help each other, and as you become enriched my life too will be enriched. I look forward to our fellowship. Howdy Ho!!!
HO!
(back at ya)
heeheeeeeeeeeeee.
The Wild Rover
I've been a wild rover for many a year
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
And now I'm returning with gold in great store
And I never will play the wild rover no more.
chorus: And it's no, nay, never,
No nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover
No never no more.
I went to an ale-house I used to frequent
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, she answered me "nay
Such a custom as yours I could have any day."
chorus
I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright
And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight.
She said "I have whiskey and wines of the best
And the words that I spoke sure were only in jest."
chorus
I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they caress (forgive) me as ofttimes before
Sure I never will play the wild rover no more.
chorus
Wild Rover
Pleasant memories of Sunday Night at home with my folks listening to the local Folk music station.
Tommy, Clancy Brothers...etc
Here's a song I always liked by Dan Seals:
Everything That Glitters Is Not Gold
Saw your picture on a poster
In a cafe out in Phoenix
Guess you're still the sweetheart of the rodeo
As for me and little Kasey,
We still make the circuit
In a one-horse trailer and a mobile home
And she still asks about you all the time
And I guess we never even cross your mind
Chorus:
But oh sometimes I think about you
And the way you used to ride out
In your rhinestones and your sequins
With the sunlight on your hair
And oh the crowd will always love you
But as for me, I've come to know
Everything that glitters is not gold
But Ol' Red, he's gettin' older
And last Saturday he stumbled
But you know I just can't bear to let him go
Little Kasey, she's still growin'
And she started askin' questions
And there's certain things a man just doesn't know
Her birthday came and you never even called
I guess we never cross your mind at all
Repeat Chorus
Everybody said you'd make it big someday
And I guess that we were only in your way
But someday I'm sure you're gonna know the cost
Cause for everything you win, there's something lost
(update lyrics)
Vincent
Don McLean
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
Your Father And I
The Beautiful South
(Heaton/Rotheray)
It was the middle of winter
And I drove us in my car
The snow started falling
So we stopped off at a bar
The beer started flowing
And your mother and I took the floor
But by the last dance we were tired
So I booked a room next door
So if anyone asks you
If you come from Heaven above
You're from a one star hotel
With a five star passionate love
It was a hot summers day
And we drove there in our car
And your father was thirsty
So we had to find a bar
Well he wouldn't stop drinking
And he couldn't stand on his feet
We had to walk to a hotel
And book ourselves into a suite
So if the teacher asks you
Are you from Heaven or are you from Hell
You're from a one star drunken screw
In a one star motel
Yes if the teacher asks you
Are you from Heaven or are you from Hell
You're from a pitch black toilet
In a highway Taco Bell
I'll remember the birth
For the rest of my time on this land
You're mother sweating buckets
And me holding onto her hand
Well your father was absent
He claimed he couldn't find the ward
Just tugging on mescal
Trying to eat the umbilical cord
So if anyone asks you
Do you know where you're from, say yes
You're from your mother's womb
And your father's stinking breath
And if they ask you how you got here
Tell them just what it took
Your father's stinking breath
And your mother's stinking luck
Your father and I won't tell the whole truth
Your father and I won't tell the truth
Catfish John
Mama said don't go near that river
Don't be hangin' around old catfish John
Come the morning I'd always be there
Walking in his footsteps in the sweet delta dawn.
Let me dream of another morning
And the time so long ago
Where the sweet magnolias blossom
Cotton fields as white as snow.
Catfish John was a river hobo
Lived and died on the river bend
Lookin' back I still remember
I was glad to be his friend.
Born a slave in the town of Vicksburg
Traded for a chestnut mare
Still he never spoke in anger
Though his load was hard to bear.
Written By Bob McDill & Allan Reynolds
Recorded by Johnny Russell
I remember the year that Clayton Delaney died
They said for the last two weeks that he suffered and cried
It made a big impression on me, although I was a barefoot kid
They said he got religion at the end and I'm glad that he did
Clayton was the best guitar picker in our town
I thought he was a hero and I used to follow Clayton around
I often wondered why Clayton, who seemed so good to me
Never took his guitar and made it down in Tenn-o-see
Well, Daddy said he drank a lot, but I could never understand
I knew he used to pick up in Ohio with a five-piece band
Clayton used to tell me, "Son you better put that old guitar away,
There ain't no money in it, it'll lead you to an early grave."
I guess if I'd admit it, Clayton taught me how to drink booze
I can see him half-stoned a-pickin' out the lovesick blues
When Clayton died I made him a promise, I was gonna carry on somehow
I'd give a hundred dollars if he could only see me now
I remember the year that Clayton Delaney died
Nobody ever knew it but I went out in the woods and I cried
Well, I know there's a lotta big preachers that know a lot more than I do
But it could be that the good Lord likes a little pickin' too
Yeah, I remember the year that Clayton Delaney died
Tom T. Hall
