Here is one of my personal favorites by a great entertainer...
The motorcycle song
Arlo Guthrie.
CHORUS:
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want to die
Just want to ride on my motorcy...cle
It was late last night the other day
I thought I'd go up and see Ray
So l went up and I saw Ray
There was only one thing Ray could say, was:
CHORUS
This song is about the time that I was ridin' my motorcycle.
Going down a mountain road, at 150 miles an hour, playin'
my guitar. On one side of the mountain road there was a
mountain, and on the other side there was nothin' - there was
a cliff in the air.
Now, when you're going down a mountain road at I50 miles
an hour you gotta be very careful, especially if you're playin'
a guitar. Especially if that guitar is an acoustic guitar.
Because if it's an acoustic guitar, the wind pressure is greater
on the box side than on the neck side, because there's
more guitar on the box side. I wasn't payin' attention ..
Luckily I didn't go into the mountain - I went over the cliff.
I was goin' at 150 miles an hour sideways and 500 feet down
at the same time.
I knew it was the end. I looked down, I said ''Wow! Some
trip". I thought it...well I knew it was...I knew it was my last
trip, and in my last remaining seconds in world,I decided
to write one last farewell song to the world.
Put a new ink cartridge in my pen. Took out a piece of paper.
I sat back and I thought awhile. Then I started writin':
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want to die
Just want to ride on my motorcy ...cle."
I knew that, it wasn't the best song l ever wrote, but I didn't
have time to change it. I was comin' down mighty fast.
But as you all know, and as fate would have it, I didn't die. I
landed on the top of a police car. And he died. I drove away
on the road that he was on. I came into town at a screamin'
175 miles an hour, playin' the motorcycle song.
I came into town, I jumped off my bike, the bike went around
the corner by itself, went up on the stand by itself, turned
itself off.
I walked over to my friend. He was standin' there eatin'
pickles. I said "Hi, what's happenin'?" He looked at me in the
eye and said "Nothin'".
You gotta sing it with that kind of enthusiasm. Like you just
squashed a cop...
CHORUS
Recently saw him live...He really is a great performer.
Edit:By they way, he talks for everything except for the chorus.
oohh thank you arterioes, I love that song, I just couldn't remember by whom it is^^
Anouk-Nobody's Wife
I'm sorry for the times that I made you scream
For the times that I killed your dreams
For the times that I made your whole world rumble
For the times that I made you cry
For the times that I told you lies
For the times that I watched and let you stumble
[chorus]:
It's too bad, but that's me
What goes around comes around, and you'll see
That I can carry the burden of pain
'cause it ain't the first time that a man goes insane
And when I spread my wings to embrace him for life
I'm sucking out his love, 'cause I, I'll never be nobody's wife
I'm sorry for the times that I didn't come home
Left you lyin' in that bed alone
Was flying' high in the sky when you needed my shoulder
You're like a stone hanging around my neck, see
Cut it loose before it breaks my back, see
I've gotta say what I feel before I grow older
I'm sorry but I ain't gonna change my ways
You know I've tried but I'm still the same
I've got to do it my way
They Might Be Giants
Wicked Little Critta
The pro is here
To lead the way
To save the day
Wicked little critta!
He clips the puck
From Bobby Orr
He shoots, he scores
Wicked little critta!
As he proceeds to torch the place
As he proceeds to scorch the place
As he proceeds to torch the place
Scorcher, torture, scorcher
Wicked little critta!
He's a wicked little critta with a sissy bar
And he lays a patch on the tar
He's a wicked little critta with a sissy bar
And he lays a patch on the tar
And he pops a wheelie on his minibike
And he burns rubber and he peels out
He's a wicked little critta with a sissy bar
And he lays a patch on the tar
And he clips the ball from Havlicek
And Havlicek is used and abused
He's a wicked little critta with a sissy bar
And he lays a patch on the tar
He decides to ditch and he ditches
And nobody knows where he ditched
He's a wicked little critta with a sissy bar
And he lays a patch on the tar
It's a wicked little guy
Wicked pissa little guy
Wicked scorcher little critta
He's a wicked little guy
Wicked little critta!
He's a dink
Way to go
I like him
I got problems
Here's another NOFX song for you:
Idiots Are Taking Over
It's not the right time to be sober now the idiots are taking over
spreading like a social cancer is there an answer
Mensa membership conceding, tell me why (and how) are all these stupid people breeding
Watson, it's really elementary, the industrial revolution has flipped a bitch on evolution
the benevolent and wise are being thwarted, ostracized, what a bummer
the world keeps getting dumber insensitivity is standard, and faith is being fancied over reason
Darwin's rolling over in his coffin, cuz the fittest are surviving much less often
now everything seems to be reversing, and it's worsening
someone flopped a steamer in the gene pool
now angry mob mentality is no longer the exception it's the rule
and I'm starting to feel a lot like Charlton Heston, stranded on a primate planet
apes and orangutans that ran it to the ground, were generals and the armies that obeyed them
followers following fables, philosophies that enable them to rule without regard
it sounds all too familiar
there's no point for democracy when ignorance is celebrated
political scientists get the same one vote as some Arkansas inbred
majority rule don't work in mental institutions
sometimes the smallest softest voice carries the grand biggest solutions
so what are we left with, a nation of god fearing pregnant nationalists
who feel it's their duty to populate the homeland
pass on traditions, how to get ahead religions, and prosperity via simpleton culture
THE IDIOTS ARE TAKING OVER
They Might Be Giants
Mr. Xcitement
Cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan, cafe con pan!
Rock on my hubba, the beat is blubba
Being stingy on the pike collect the one into the otha
Careen in tandem, the sea into the landem
The people in the pix they want to scarf and dig the clamdem
Awwwwwwwww yes! Mr Excitement!
We nix the glaben, the knifey-knife is staben
Protrude into the hoobalicious scoff the extra aden
I write the mooky, my verse is extra spooky
Like Flansy in a soda can, it's trooky-trooky-trooky
Awwwwwwwww yes! Mr Excitement!
Blackboard Sky (Wall of Voodoo)
Their frying fish in Chinatown
And the wind smells of rain
My head is ticking like a bomb
On a subway train
Now I cut to the on high
And I get opened up like venetian blinds
When I draw your face on blackboard sky
Yeah I draw your face on blackboard sky
The worst is over humm a hymn
To her burning my faith
For such a villian I am criminally underpaid
Now my rope is tied
The gas is on
The chair is begging to be climbed
When I draw your face on blackboard sky
Yeah I draw your face on blackboard sky
And if I look in your eye
And see you yes
And if I see you say yes
We'll be happy once again
Fresh out of hell on a morning so cold and alone
Nobody there to say welcome home
So I roll like the leaves
I blow like the sand
And I tumble like a paper cup
Thats caught in the wind
Now I see all sides
Sense is not issue
I've got the eyes of the blind
When I draw your face on blackboard sky
Yeah I draw your face on blackboard sky
We Will Become Silhouettes
by The Postal Service
I've got a cupboard with cans of food,
filtered water, and pictures of you
and I'm not coming out until this is all over.
And I'm looking through the glass
where the light bends at the cracks
and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
pretending that the echoes belong to someone,
someone I used to know.
We become silhouettes when our bodies finally go.
I wanted to walk through the empty streets
and feel something constant under my feet,
but all the news reports recommended that I stay indoors.
Because the air outside will make
our cells divide at an alarming rate
until our shells simply cannot hold
all our insides in, and that's when we'll explode.
(and it won't be a pretty sight)
And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go.
God
John Lennon
I have a message from above
And I'm here to tell you
That this message concerns
our love
The angels must have sent me
to deliver this to you
Now hear me now, brothers and
sisters
God is a concept
By which we measure
Our pain
I'll say it again
God is a concept
By which me measure
Our pain
Yes we do
I don't believe in magic
I don't believe in I-ching
I don't belive in Bible
I don't believe in tarot
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Jesus
I don't believe in Kennedy
I don't believe in Buddha
I don't believe in mantra
I don't believe in Gita
I don't belive in yoga
I don't believe in kings
I don't believe in Elvis
I don't believe in Dylan
I don't belive in Beatles
I just believe in me
And thats reality
Yes it is
Do you read me brother?
I had a concept.....
Winchester Cathedral : Crosby Stills Nash (and Young) l
Six o' clock
In the morning, I feel pretty good
So I dropped into the luxury of the Lords
Fighting dragons and crossing swords
With the people against the hordes
Who came to conquer.
Seven o'clock
In the morning, here it comes
I taste the warning and I am so amazed
I'm here today, seeing things so clear this way
In the car and on my way
To Stonehenge.
I'm flying in Winchester cathedral
Sunlight pouring through the break of day.
Stumbled through the door and into the chamber;
There's a lady setting flowers on a table covered lace
And a cleaner in the distance finds a cobweb on a face
And a feeling deep inside of me tells me
This can't be the place
I'm flying in Winchester cathedral.
All religion has to have its day
Expressions on the face of the Saviour
Made me say
I can't stay.
Open up the gates of the church and let me out of here!
Too many people have lied in the name of Christ
For anyone to heed the call.
So many people have died in the name of Christ
That I can't believe it all.
And now I'm standing on the grave of a soldier that died in 1799
And the day he died it was a birthday
And I noticed it was mine.
And my head didn't know just who I was
And I went spinning back in time.
And I am high upon the altar
High upon the altar, high.
I'm flying in Winchester cathedral,
It's hard enough to drink the wine.
The air inside just hangs in delusion,
But given time,
I'll be fine.
'Perfect'
The The
Soul Mining
It's a chilly English winter & solitude is never easy to maintain,
.....except when it rains.
So I hang an empty smile beneath my empty eyes,
...& go out for a walk.
The wet morning sun, reflects off the paving stones,
while a little dog barks it's head off.........In the distance.
"Oh what a perfect day, to think about myself,
My feet are firmly screwed to the floor,
What is there to fear from such a regular world."
Passing by a cemetry I think of all the little hopes & dreams,
....that lie lifeless and unfulfilled-
....beneath the soil.
I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh.
he tells himself he was a good man & did good things,
amused and confused by lifes little ironies-
he swallows his bottle of distilled.........DAMNATION!!
People trot around with unseeing eyes-
their looking for something that doesn't exist.
The world we once knew is being eaten up by rust.
No-one has time for the past..........
But..................Still in God they trust,
The future is now, but it's all going wrong,
bodies queue for nothing, for it is to nothing they belong.
People say their prayers & some work hard-
If you give them all your money, they'll give you their hearts,
THIS TOWN AIN'T GETTIN' LIKE A GHOST TOWN,
It's getting like ................HELL!!
"Oh what a perfect day, to think about myself,
My feet are firmly screwed to the floor,
What is there to fear from such a regular world!"
On the Monty Python theme
Lumberjack Song
Composers: Terry Jones, Michael Palin, & Fred Tomlinson
Authors: Terry Jones & Michael Palin
Arranger: Fred Tomlinson
Lead Singer: Michael Palin
Featured on various albums
BARBER:
I wanted to be... a lumberjack!
Leaping from tree to tree, as they float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia. The Giant Redwood. The Larch. The Fir! The mighty Scots Pine! The lofty flowering Cherry! The plucky little Apsen! The limping Roo tree of Nigeria. The towering Wattle of Aldershot! The Maidenhead Weeping Water Plant! The naughty Leicestershire Flashing Oak! The flatulent Elm of West Ruislip! The Quercus Maximus Bamber Gascoigni! The Epigillus! The Barter Hughius Greenus!
With my best buddy by my side, we'd sing! Sing! Sing!
[singing]
I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.
MOUNTIES:
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
BARBER:
I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.
MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea.
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
BARBER:
I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.
MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
BARBER:
I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa.
MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!
[talking]
What's this? Wants to be a girlie?! Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!...
[singing]
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
If You Wanna Be Happy : Jimmy Soul
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
A pretty woman makes her husband look small
And very often causes his downfall
As soon as he married her and then she starts
To do the things that will break his heart
But if you make an ugly woman your wife
A-you'll be happy for the rest of your life
An ug-a-ly woman cooks meals on time
And she'll always give you peace of mind
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
Don't let your friends say you have no taste
Go ahead and marry anyway
Though her face is ugly, her eyes don't match
Take it from me, she's a better catch
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
Spoken:
Say man!
Hey baby!
I saw your wife the other day!
Yeah?
Yeah, an' she's ug-leeee!
Yeah, she's ugly, but she sure can cook, baby!
Yeah, alright!
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
(repeat chorus till it's stuck in your head).......
Motion Picture Soundtrack - Radiohead
Red wine and sleeping pills
Help me get back to your arms
Cheap sex and sad films
Help me get where I belong
I think you’re crazy, maybe
I think you’re crazy, maybe
Stop sending letters
Letters always get burned
It’s not like the movies
They fed us on little white lies
I think you’re crazy, maybe
I think you’re crazy, maybe
I will see you in the next life
Leonard Cohen - So Long Marianne Lyrics
Come over to the window, my little darling,
I'd like to try to read your palm.
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
before I let you take me home.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.
Well you know that I love to live with you,
but you make me forget so very much.
I forget to pray for the angels
and then the angels forget to pray for us.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
We met when we were almost young
deep in the green lilac park.
You held on to me like I was a crucifix,
as we went kneeling through the dark.
Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
Your letters they all say that you're beside me now.
Then why do I feel alone?
I'm standing on a ledge and your fine spider web
is fastening my ankle to a stone.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
For now I need your hidden love.
I'm cold as a new razor blade.
You left when I told you I was curious,
I never said that I was brave.
Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
Oh, you are really such a pretty one.
I see you've gone and changed your name again.
And just when I climbed this whole mountainside,
to wash my eyelids in the rain!
Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...