i suppose this is a lyrics thread, so i'll post some from some other bands...😛:
Goldfinger-mable
met her Sunday, that was yesterday
The girl I knew from 1990
Her eyes are hazel, her name is Mable
I kissed her once and now I'm able to
Walk a mile, crack a smile
She makes me want to kiss all the
Chorus
Babies, hug the puppy dogs
She makes me feel like a mom
Smell the flowers and plant a tree
I gotta say that Mable -- She's the bomb
Now it's Monday, better than Sunday
Mable told me that she would stay
Her curly hair shines in her eyes
Boy that Mable sure is fine
I'm with her now until I die
She makes me want to kiss all the
Chorus
Then on Tuesday, Mable left me
I heard she's goin' out with Charlie
She saw his package from what I know she said:
"That looks like a tube of cookie dough!"
Mine, she said then, looks like a small
pencil with broken lead
Rabies got the puppy dogs
and now I really need my mom
I bought her flowers, so woe'st me
It sucks I still think Mable -- she's the bomb
Rabies got the puppy dogs
and now I really need my mom
I bought her flowers, so woe is me
It sucks I still think Mable -- she's the bomb
but u've got to hear it to reeeeeeeally like it-it just sounds so good!...
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside,
Mark now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp,
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp
And a little wee drummer intending to camp,
For the day bein' pleasant and charmin'.
"Good morning, good morning," the Sergeant he cried.
"And the same to you, gentlemen," we did reply,
Intending no harm but meant to pass by,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
"But," says he, "My fine fellows, if you will enlist,
Ten guineas in gold I'll stick to your fist,
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust,
And drink the king's health in the morning.
"For a soldier, he leads a very fine life,
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife,
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife,
And he always lives pleasant and charmin',
And a soldier, he always is decent and clean,
In the finest of clothing he's constantly seen.
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean,
And sup on thin gruel in the morning."
"But," says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your clothes,
For you've only the lend of them, as I suppose,
But you dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do, you'll be flogged in the morning,
And although that we're single and free,
We take great delight in our own company,
We have no desire strange places to see,
Although that your offers are charming.
"And we have no desire to take your advance,
All hazards and dangers we barter on chance,
For you'd have no scruples for to send us to France,
Where we would get shot without warning,"
"Oh no," says the Sergeant. "I'll have no such chat,
And neither will I take it from snappy young brats,
For if you insult me with one other word,
I'll cut off your heads in the morning."
And Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs,
And we scarce gave them time to draw their own blades
When a trusty shillelagh came over their head
And bid them take that as fair warning.
And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their sides,
We flung them as far as we could in the tide,
"Now take them up, devils!" cried Arthur McBride,
"And temper their edge in the mornin'!"
And the little wee drummer, we flattened his bow,
And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow,
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to roll,
And bade it a tedious returning,
And we havin' no money, paid them off in cracks.
We paid no respect to their two bloody backs,
And we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks,
And left them for dead in the morning.
And so, to conclude and to finish disputes,
We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits,
For we were the lads who would give them hard clouts
And bid them look sharp in the mornin'.
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside,
Mark now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Dylan. The best that ever was.
Originally posted by bbarrNice one
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride,
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside,
Mark now what followed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp,
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp
And a little wee drummer intending to camp,
For the day bein' pleasant and charmin'.
"Good morni ...[text shortened]... wed and what did betide,
For it bein' on Christmas mornin'
Dylan. The best that ever was.
heres baggy trousers by madness
naughty boys and nasty schools
headmasters breaking all the rules
having fun and playing folls
smashing up the woodwork tolls
all the teachers in the pub
passing round the reddy rum
trying not to think of when
that lunchtime bell again
chorus:
oh the fun we had
but did it really turn out bad
all i learnt in school
was how to bend and break the rules
oh the fun we had
but at the time it seemed so bad
trying different ways to make a difference to the days
headmasters had enough today
all the kids have gone away
gone to fight in next doors school
every term that is the rule
sits alone and bends his cane
same old backsides again
all the small ones tell tall tales
walking home and squashing snails
chorus
lots of girls and lots of boys
lots of smells and lots of noise
playing football in the park
kicking pushbikes after dark
baggy trousers dirty shirts
pulling hair into dirt
teacher comes to break it up
back up the end of a plastic cup
chorus