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Post by ARENA on Aug 9, 2019 8:04:20 GMT
What lyrics do you like or those that have a special meaning for you.
A lovestruck Romeo sang the streets of serenade
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made
Finds a streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like, "You and me, babe, how about it?.....Dire Straits
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Post by aubrey on Aug 9, 2019 8:33:01 GMT
I'm jealous of the people the people I fall in love with Fall in love with I'm jealous of the people the people I try to be more like Try to be more like I'm even jealous of the people the people who hate me Hate more A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy Parts 17-24
(Momus)
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polly
Silver Surfer
Into each life some rain must fall. Longfellow
Posts: 177
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Post by polly on Aug 9, 2019 14:56:04 GMT
Some Enchanted Evening by Richard Rodgers.
I have Ezio Pinza singing it on a CD.
Some enchanted evening
You may see a stranger,
You may see a stranger across a crowded room,
And somehow you know
You'll know even then
That somewhere you'll see her, again and again.
Some enchanted evening
Someone may be laughin',
You may hear her laughin' across a crowded room,
And night after night
As strange as it seems
The sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams.
Who can explain it? Who can tell you why?
Fools give you reasons, wise men never try.
Some enchanted evening
When you find your true love,
When you feel her call you across a crowded room,
Then fly to her side
And make her your own
For, all through your life, you may dream all alone.
Once you have found her, never let her go.
Once you have found her, never let her go!
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2019 15:10:20 GMT
When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm, there's a golden sky
And the sweet, silver song of a lark
Walk on through the wind
Walk on through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your hearts
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone
Walk on, walk on
With hope in your hearts
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone
Sung by Judy Garland |
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Post by aubrey on Aug 9, 2019 17:36:22 GMT
On the night of July 21st, 356 BC I, Erostratus, burned to the ground One of the wonders of the world The fabulous temple of Artemis Here in the great port of Ephesus I did it to get famous To thwart me The authorities stupidly forbade my name On pain of death Ever to be mentioned again The fools! That was my guarantee Of immortality Some tool in the 21st century Even as we speak is singing about me! And in your day I have many imitators and admirers My name endures, said Sartre "Like a black diamond"
(Momus again)
(It doesn't look it, but it's really quite catchy.) |
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Post by aubrey on Aug 9, 2019 18:30:23 GMT
And this, the end of a long song about Primo Levi's death:
One last word of caution from the very rim of the parapet.
One last word in remembrance…
we must learn not to forget.
(Peter Hammill)
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Post by aubrey on Aug 9, 2019 19:19:28 GMT
I once saw Momus perform this for a documentary about tropical diseases; it was an old song, recorded before he lost an eye to an amoeba infection:
Tell me that you'll love me 'til the end
And tell me you'll be there
If I ever find
I've only got one kidney left
And tell me you'll be there
When I've only got one eye
And say that you'll be there to care for me
When a wheelchair is my chair
You'll be there upon the day I die
Before:
After:
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Post by aubrey on Aug 9, 2019 22:20:33 GMT
West is where all days will someday end;
Where the colours turn from grey to gold,
And you can be with the friends.
And light flakes the golden clouds above all;
West is Mike and Susie,
West is where I love.
There we shall spend our final days of our lives;
Tell the same old stories: yeah well,
At least we tried.
Into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go;
Oh, yes, and our apologies to those
Who'll never really know the way.
We're refugees, walking away from the life
That we've known and loved;
Nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay;
Now we are alone.
We're refugees, carrying all we own
In brown bags, tied up with string;
Nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing,
But we'll be happy on our own.
West is Mike and Susie;
West is where I love,
West is refugees' home.
(Van der Graff Generator)
Susie is Susan Penhaligon - she and Hammill shared a flat in the 60s - and later he wrote another song, Easy to Slip Away, with the lines:
Susie, I guess you're on your way to be a star,
But I don't know where you are, the only time I seem
To see you is on T.V.
It's so easy just to slip away...
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Post by ARENA on Aug 10, 2019 7:42:07 GMT
A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a sack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
Made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came walking down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back
Then came the churches, then came the schools
Then came the lawyers, then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their load
And the dirty old track was the Telegraph Road
Then came the mines, then came the ore
Then there was the hard times, then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph Road got so deep and so wide........Dire Straits
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polly
Silver Surfer
Into each life some rain must fall. Longfellow
Posts: 177
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Post by polly on Aug 10, 2019 21:42:19 GMT
The Way You Look Tonight by Dorothy Fields and Jerome Kern :
Some day, when I'm awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight.
Oh but you're lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft,
There is nothing for me but to love you,
Just the way you look tonight.
With each word your tenderness grows,
Tearing my fear apart,
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose
Touches my foolish heart.
Lovely,
Never, ever change,
Keep that breathless charm,
Won't you please arrange it?
'Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight.
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Post by aubrey on Aug 12, 2019 18:29:54 GMT
Another Momus song, inspired by the death of a friend:
The house of the dead becomes more and more real to me
As the list of dead friends on my Palm increases
Though I don't believe in the permanent soul
I can't help asking, "But where do they go?"
And the love I invest
In my lovers deceased
Drains my love for those who exist
At an actual and earthly address
I update the database
Daily from my laptop
Using new vaporware:
Palm Deathtop
I'm starting to wish I could see my old friends again
At the glamorous party to which they've departed
Well, what do you know? I'm apparently invited
Look there, your name is also on the list
Sooner or later, we'll all be there I guess
All already no longer exist
Together with our friends again
Let's update the database
Daily from our laptops
Using new vaporware:
Palm Deathtop
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Post by aubrey on Aug 13, 2019 8:18:01 GMT
The Fall (Mark E Smith), English Scheme:
O'er grassy dale, and lowland scene
Come see, come hear, the English Scheme.
The lower-class, want brass
Bad chests, scrounge fags.
The clever ones tend to emigrate
Like your psychotic big brother, who left home
For jobs in Holland, Munich, Rome
He's thick but he struck it rich, switch
The commune crap, camp bop, middle class, flip-flop
Guess that's why they end up in bands
He's the freak creep in us all
He's the freak creep in us all
Condescends to black men
Very nice to them
They talk of Chile while driving through Haslingden
You got sixty hour weeks, and stone toilet back-gardens
Peter Cook's jokes, bad dope,
Check shirts, fancy groups
Point their fingers at America
Down pokey quaint streets in Cambridge
Cycle our distant spastic heritage
It's a gay red, roundhead
Army career, bread head
If we were smart we'd emigrate
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polly
Silver Surfer
Into each life some rain must fall. Longfellow
Posts: 177
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Post by polly on Aug 18, 2019 13:52:56 GMT
Every Time We Say Goodbye - written by Cole Porter and sung by Ella Fitzgerald :
Everytime we say goodbye, I die a little,
Everytime we say goodbye, I wonder why a little,
Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know.
Think so little of me, they allow you to go.
When you're near, there's such an air of spring about it,
I can hear a lark somewhere, begin to sing about it,
There's no love song finer, but how strange the change from major to minor,
Everytime we say goodbye.
When you're near, there's such an air of spring about it,
I can hear a lark somewhere, begin to sing about it,
There's no love song finer, but how strange the change from major to minor,
Everytime we say goodbye.
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Post by aubrey on Aug 21, 2019 8:36:26 GMT
This one has always been important to me (for the past 40-odd years anyway):
Repetition
Right, noise...
We're gonna get real speedy
We're gonna wear black all the time
You're gonna make it on your own.
Cos we dig
Cos we dig
We dig
We dig repetition
We dig repetition
We've repetition in the music
And we're never going to lose it.
All you daughters and sons
who are sick of fancy music
We dig repetition
Repetition on the drums
and we're never going to lose it.
This is the three R's
The three R's:
Repetition, Repetition, Repetition
Oh mental hospitals
Oh mental hospitals
They put electrodes in your brain
And you're never the same
You don't dig repetition
You don't love repetition
Repetition in the music and we're never going to lose it
President Carter loves repetition
Chairman Mao he dug repetition
Repetition in China
Repetition in America
Repetition in West Germany
Simultaneous suicides
We dig it, we dig it,
we dig it, we dig it
Repetition, repetition, repetition
Repetition, repetition, Regal Zonophone
There is no hesitation
This is your situation
Continue a blank generation
Blank generation
Same old blank generation
Groovy blank generation
Swinging blank generation
Repetition, repetition, repetition....
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Post by aubrey on Sept 15, 2019 15:43:24 GMT
Two songs about the Falklands War, one largely for and one largely against; but both approach the subject obliquely - one is a fictional discussion and one is a story - and neither of them even mention the war.
Shipbuilding
Is it worth it?
A new winter coat and shoes for the wife
And a bicycle on the boy's birthday.
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
By the women and children, soon we'll be shipbuilding
Well I ask you
The boy said 'Dad, they're going to take me to task
But I'll be home by Christmas.
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
Somebody said that someone got filled in
For saying that people get killed in
The results of their shipbuilding.
With all the will in the world
Diving for dear life
When we could be diving for pearls.
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
A telegram for a picture postcard
Within weeks they'll be reopening the shipyard
And notifying the next of kin
Once again.
It's all we're skilled in
We will be shipbuilding.
With all the will in the world
Diving for dear life
When we could be diving for pearls.
Written by Elvis Costello, but it's generally accepted that the definitive version is by Robert Wyatt:
The other one is by The Fall, and the title is a play on Lord Haw Haw and Mark E Smith's own name:
Marquis Cha-Cha
He can never go home
He can never go home
Stranded in South America
Nothing to go home for
Just another Brit in the bar
Hernandez Fiendish comes over to me
Offers a job as broadcaster
That's how I came to be
Marquis Cha Cha
He can never go home
But is O.K. by him
The generals have many enemies
And them I single out
What does it concern me about?
Good riddance to my native country
It never did a thing for me
It's a better life here
And I am not a traitor
Marquis Cha Cha
He can never go home
Now here is his show
Hey you people over there
And those in sea and air
It has been theirs for years
It is a good life here
Football and beer much superior
Gringo gets cheap servant staff
Low tax and a dusky wife
Intelligentsia Although your radio has been jammed
I heard talk about by chance
You educated kids know what you're on about
You've been oppressed for years
I hear Rosso-Rosso over there
And you have cha-cha clubs
You should hear the rosso-rosso stuff
I understand you
I'm from a town called
Mmmm
Marquis Cha Cha
He can never go home
He can never go home
One point is made here
The scourge of rosso-rosso
So what if I do propaganda?
After a few steins I feel better
But that broken down fan
They never fix it, them dumb Latins
There's a bayonet beside my head
There's a guard in the annex
Marquis Cha Cha
He never did go home
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