Which lyrics are stuck in your brain today?

I'll second that request, hinge ... but for me! I could use one of those!

"Raindrops keep falling on my head"



can't think why

I can't imagine why, either, Izzy.

Katie, will you say to me?
Will you just laugh and tell me that I've got it wrong?
Katie, will you say to me?
Will you just tell me please what the **** is going on?

Katie - David Ford (hey Olgs, if you're bored in a record store ask for a quick spin of his I Sincerely Apologize For All The Trouble I've Caused I think you might like it. A little like a male Martha Wainwright.

A sort of male Martha! (As jaded, even?)
This sounds interesting, hinge!
Will do.

O mio babbino caro,
mi piace è bello, bello;
vo'andare in Porta Rossa
a comperar l'anello!
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare!
e se l'amassi invano,
andrei sul Ponte Vecchio,
ma per buttarmi in Arno!
Mi struggo e mi tormento!
O Dio, vorrei morir!

Babbo, pietà, pietà!
Babbo, pietà, pietà!

gone of that gold, she know a playa cold...

Swimpy > !

This is because I want to be doing this....

Now I'm walking on sunshine, whoa oh
Now I'm walking on sunshine, whoa oh
Now I'm walking on sunshine, whoa oh
And don't it feel good, hey, all right now
And don't it feel good...

The little things, little things, they always hang around
The little things, little things, they try to break me down
The little things, little things, they just won't go away
The little things, little things, made me who I am today, GO
You wanna hate me now, but I won't stop now
'Cause I can't stop now

Yeah, what (C'mon) what, yeah (What) c'mon, c'mon, here we go...
Like the time mom went to that institute 'cause she was breaking down (I just can't take it)
Like the car we had that wouldn't start we had to walk to get around (Can I get a ride?)
And that same year on Christmas Eve dad went to the store (Uh, I'll see ya guys later)
We checked his room his things were gone, we didn't see him no more
DICK!
Things...things...here we go

What, what, what...here we go...here we go... go...go
The little things, little things, little things, little things, little things,
little things, little things, little things, little things (oh oh oh oh oh),
little things, little things, little things, little things (oh oh oh oh oh),
little things, little things, little things...here we go

And it always seems those little things (oh oh oh oh oh),
they take the biggest part of me, break down (oh oh oh oh oh),
I'm breaking down, I'm breaking down...

I get a feeling that there's a reason for these lyrics being stuck in your brain, Mr Stillwater ...

Hope I'm wrong about this.

It's been in my head for days, Marc Cohn's "Walking in Memphis", just lovin' the song and the place.

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
W.C. Handy -- won't you look down over me
Yeah I got a first class ticket
But I'm as blue as a boy can be

Then I'm walking in Memphis
Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale
Walking in Memphis
But do I really feel the way I feel

Saw the ghost of Elvis
On Union Avenue
Followed him up to the gates of Graceland
Then I watched him walk right through
Now security they did not see him
They just hovered 'round his tomb
But there's a pretty little thing
Waiting for the King
Down in the Jungle Room

(Chorus)

They've got catfish on the table
They've got gospel in the air
And Reverend Green be glad to see you
When you haven't got a prayer
But boy you've got a prayer in Memphis

Now Muriel plays piano
Every Friday at the Hollywood
And they brought me down to see her
And they asked me if I would --
Do a little number
And I sang with all my might
And she said --
"Tell me are you a Christian child?"
And I said "Ma'am I am tonight"

(Chorus)

Put on my blue suede shoes
And I boarded the plane
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain
Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues
In the middle of the pouring rain

Only for sorta good reasons, petal.

It really helps me to realise that my kids are gonna grow up in spite of their parents'.... ahem, issues... and maybe write songs and books about it.

Ain't in my brain today, but never too far away. I introduced my daughters to the B-52s and they LOVE it!! I suspect that when this one comes on they're probably making the connection with their dad.......




You're living in your own Private Idaho
Living in your own Private Idaho
Underground like a wild potato.
Don't go on the patio.
Beware of the pool,
blue bottomless pool.
It leads you straight
right throught the gate
that opens on the pool.
You're living in your own Private Idaho.
You're living in your own Private Idaho.

Keep off the path, beware the gate,
watch out for signs that say "hidden driveways".
Don't let the chlorine in your eyes
blind you to the awful surprise
that's waitin' for you at
the bottom of the bottomless blue blue blue pool.

You're livin in your own Private Idaho. Idaho.
You're out of control, the rivers that roll,
you fell into the water and down to Idaho.
Get out of that state,
get out of that state you're in.
You better beware.

Aw, really sorry about this, Mr Stillwater.

Yep, they might make art from the experience & perhaps keep a few shrinks wealthy as well? (As we all have done. Surviving families is not as easy thing.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
R.E.M.

That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane -
Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn -
world serves its own needs, regardless of your own needs. Feed it up a knock,
speed, grunt no, strength no. Ladder structure clatter with fear of height,
down height. Wire in a fire, represent the seven games in a government for
hire and a combat site. Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry with the furies
breathing down your neck. Team by team reporters baffled, trump, tethered
crop. Look at that low plane! Fine then. Uh oh, overflow, population,
common group, but it'll do. Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its
own needs, listen to your heart bleed. Tell me with the rapture and the
reverent in the right - right. You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright
light, feeling pretty psyched.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign tower. Slash and burn,
return, listen to yourself churn. Lock him in uniform and book burning,
blood letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate. Light a candle,
light a motive. Step down, step down. Watch a heel crush, crush. Uh oh,
this means no fear - cavalier. Renegade and steer clear! A tournament,
a tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives
and I decline.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

The other night I tripped a nice continental drift divide. Mount St. Edelite.
Leonard Bernstein. Leonid Breshnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs.
Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom! You symbiotic, patriotic,
slam, but neck, right? Right.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine...fine...

(It's time I had some time alone)

Terrific song, too, mismi. (Long-time REM fan here! )

got this tune in my head

Best Imitation Of Myself
Ben Folds

I feel like a quote out of context
Withholding the rest
So I can be for you what you want to see

I got the gesture and sound
Got the timing down
It's uncanny, yeah, you think it was me

Do you think I should take a class
To lose my southern accent
Did I make me up, or make the face till it stuck
I do the best imitation of myself

The "problem with you" speech
You gave me was fine
I liked the theories about my little stage

And I swore I was listening
But I started drifting
Around the part about me acting my age

Now if it's all the same
I've people to entertain
I juggle one handed
Do some magic tricks and
The best imitation of myself

Maybe I'm thinking myself in a hole
Wondering, who I am when I ought to know
Straighten up now time to go
Fool somebody else, fool somebody else

Last night I was east with them
And west within
Trying to be for you what you wanna see

But I can't help it with you
The good and bad comes through
Don't want you hanging out with no one but me

Now if it's all the same
It comes from the same place
And if my mind's somewhere else
You won't be able to tell
I do the best imitation of myself

Yes it's uncanny to see
You'd really think it was me
The best imitation of myself
The best imitation of myself

Stuck in my head today. (I really don't know why.):

Don't be so reckless.
Lay down your gun.
Don't be so reckless ...

Now whose song was that? (It sure packs a punch!)

More likely to pick up Aussies with that one.

Meet me down by the jetty landing
Where the the pontoons bump and spray
I see the others reading, standing
As the Manly Ferry cuts its way to Circular Quay
Hear the Captain blow his whistle
So long she's been away
I miss our early morning wrestle
Not a very Happy way to start the day
She don't like That kind of behaviour
She don't like That kind of behaviour

So_____ throw down your guns
Don't be so reckless

Slow, saddish ballad from Australian Crawl (Semantics 1983).