Another Sad Song Thread. (2 Viewers)

[Scientician 0.8]

My candidate of the week is Glenn Tipton by Sun Kil Moon. What a fucking beautiful, sad wee song.

Here are the lyrics. I can email an MP3 to anyone who wants it.

Cassius Clay was hated more than Sonny Liston
Some like KK Downing more than Glenn Tipton
Some like Jim Nabors, some Bobby Vinton
I like 'em all

I put my feet up on the coffee table
I stay up late watching cable
I like old movies with Clarke Gable
Just like my dad does

Just like my dad did when he was home
Staying up late, staying up alone
Just like my dad did when he was thinking
Oh, how fast the years fly

I know an old woman ran a doughnut shop
She worked late serving cops
But then one morning, baby, her heart stopped
Place ain't the same no more

Place ain't the same no more
Not without my friend, Eleanor
Place ain't the same no more
Man, how things change

I buried my first victim when I was nineteen
Went through her bedroom and
the pockets of her jeans
And found her letters that said so many things
That really hurt me bad

I never breathed her name again
But I liked to dream about what could have been
I never heard her calls again
But I like to dream

 

[Milker]

Here are the lyrics. I can email an MP3 to anyone who wants it.

yeah i'll take an mp3 based on those lyrics mister.

 

[Scientician 0.8]

PM me your email address.

 

[Unknown Convict]

puts me in mind of both of these mountain goats tunes:

pinklon: (for pinklon thomas)
"Let the bright colours come blushing gently back,
To the cherry blossom trees, around Pontiac.
And guys in, powder blue starter jackets
Down on the street,
Let them come up from the corners,
So light on their feet.

Let the ticker tape come cascading down
Above the greyhound station
Out at the edge of town.
And at the schoolyard fences,
Where the children shout,
Let the chains fall away and let them all rush out.
And all good things in time will melt away,
Pinklon Thomas is getting out of prison today.

Out to the curbside let the grandmothers come
And stand in red gingham dresses
In the afternoon sun.
And from the windows high above the street,
Let the trumpets sound,
And let confetti fill the air and gather on the ground.

Let the guys all hurry on down to the gym,
And throw the doors wide open,
And clear a space for him.
Let messages from strangers,
Spray painted on cheap drapes,
Hang from all the fire escapes.
Let them spell it out on marquees and on window displays,
Pinklon Thomas is getting out of prison today."

&

song for roger maris (maris broke babe ruth's record and got death threats for his trouble)
"When the power of god shows up in your swing,
and the people start to notice and you can't do anything about it
and they all come to see you.
they start to crowd around.
let me tell ya brother, you can feel it coming down.
and i got an angel watching over me,
a monkey on my back,
the devil at my heels,
reporters breathing down my neck.

yeah my father always to me to finish what you start.
my wife's about to leave me and it's going to break my heart.
and i no longer have my youth.
i no longer have my looks.
i got a god damned one-way ticket to the god damned history books.
and i got an angel watching over me,
a monkey on my back,
the devil at my heels,
reporters breathing down my neck."

 

[Denny Oubidoux]

how about When An Old Cricketer Leaves The Crease by roy harper

When the day is done and the ball has spun
In the umpire's pocket away,
And all remains in the groundsman's pains,
For the rest of time and a day.
There'll be one mad dog and his master pushing for 4 with the spin.
On a dusty pitch with two pounds six of willow wood in the sun.

When an old cricketer leaves the crease you never know whether he's gone,
If sometimes you're catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly mid-on.
And it could be Geoff and it could be John,
With a new ball sting in his tail.
And it could be me, and it could be thee,
And it could be the sting in the ale.........sting in the ale.

When the moment comes and the gathering stands,
And the clock turns back to reflect,
On the years of grace as those footsteps trace,
For the last time out of the act.
Well this ways of life's recollection
The hallowed strip in the haze,
The fabled men and the noonday sun,
Are much more than just yarns of their days

When an old cricketer leaves the crease you never know whether he's gone,
If sometimes you're catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly mid-on.
And it could be Geoff and it could be John,
With a new ball sting in his tail.
And it could be me, and it could be thee,
And it could be the sting in the ale.........sting in the ale.

 

[Jill Hives]

Mine for today: mp3 on request.

Paul Westerberg -- Got Your Number

He's got your number
Knows where you'll be found
But he don't know everything
Still he's got you down

Like Christopher Columbus
In a world that's flat
He don't know everything
Try telling you that

Or Harry Houdini
He has escaped your grasp
That man is hard to hold
Try telling you that

He's got your number
Knows where you'll be found
But he don't know everything
Still he's got you down

He's got you down
He knows you like the back of his hand

Like Rudolph Valentino
The great lover of your life
It's been a while since you seen him
I'm sure he's not with his wife

He's got your number
Knows where you'll be found
But he don't know nothin'
Still he's got you down

He's got your number
And he's got you down
But he don't know nothin'
Still he's got you down

 

[Scientician 0.8]

Jill Hives send us an MP3 of that. [email protected]

 

[David Kronenbourg]

i'm currently getting my melancholy groove on to fall sweep by little wings. it's about growing old or something and it's lovely.

I knew the shredder
when he used to hang at the park
in the late afternoon
I never talked to him
I only watched while he tear
Turns out the ground
or whatever's around
All his wheels would slide out
but he'd stay cool
I knew the guy that they once
called the shredder it's true



and I watched the day fade
on the ramp that we made
and I asked myself
where should I go now
A new wave has dawned
and the novelty's gone
so I'm told
and what kind of turn
would I now need to learn
to keep up when I'm feeling
so slowed down
I might feel better
if I knew the shredder felt old



but I see the sunset
on the lump that I get
in my throat
that I get when I try to tell
A story it grows
like a parking lot goes on the ground
And if the shredder's still shredding
I feel like forgetting
I ate his dust long ago
He may remember
but somehow I doubt
that he knows

 

[Jill Hives]

Augie March -- Little Wonder

Well it's my very little wonder and it's one that I will keep,
But you can take it with you if it helps you when you're trying to sleep...
and the men who are a cut above today are often not so very deep.
Young ladies of means will say "I am, I am, I am, I am, I am",
Sitting on the edges of their seats on the light rail tram,
amongst the could-a-beens, the also-rans -

It's very little wonder if you cry,
It's very little wonder you don't cry,
The birds were framed, the babies were framed, and so too the black sky.

You can't hear the ready laughter in my song,
When I was laughing all day yesterday and all night long,
till we shook off the fears, and had us both in tears,
O brother don't clean out your ears and you might be amazed
to find the secrets of the city in its alley ways,
In the bins behind the swill cafes,
amid the clean-picked chicken bones and cartilage a spirit groans,
a small heart beats and a red beak groans
"O pity, where's my little body gone?"

You'll know why, it's very little wonder you don't cry,
Don't be ashamed of a guilty little rain, and don't be ashamed,
it's just the drink, it's just the drink, it's just the drink.

One marks a place, one makes a time,
One stops a'living, one goes about a'dying...

Somebody blew their brains out in this room,
I can feel it like it happened just this afternoon,
On the wall behind some furniture there's a stain in the shape of Africa,
O fear walks tall, when it's halfway up the hill with its friend alcohol.
I could hear the heavy footsteps in his hollow halls,
Little wonder that he soon devised to rid them all in one great gushing fall,
The billion tiny devil's feet that nightly walked that bloody beat

- Hi ho, ho hum, Get yourself a gun,
Open up your heart and let the bleeders run,
Hi ho, ho hum, Move the thing along,
Open up your heart and let the bleeders run
Hi ho, ho hum, Get yourself a gun,
Open up your heart and let the bleeders run,
Hi ho, ho hum, Think about your mum,
Open up your heart and let the evening come darkly in.

 

[SONYMEGADRIVE]

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[snakybus]

Wye Oak: If Children Were Wishes

If children were wishes,
my mother spent hers on impossible things:
My brother was money,
my sister was love
and I was world peace.


My brother, he spent it,
my sister got pregnant
and all that I'm worth
will only come true
when there are no more of us left on this earth.


If hearts were machines that kept running forever automatically
then you wouldn't be in that hospital bed on that saline IV.
And if it's your diet, you stubbornly swear
that it wasn't your fault.
You'd rather be dead in that hospital bed
than cut back on sugar and salt.


Oh, aren't you afraid of living in a major American city
to marry a stupid, unreachable girl who's impossibly pretty.
And I've seen you drive every day of your life
and it's always a rush
And I have to wonder how I ever let you
do something so dangerous.
And so I suppose this is just how it goes
and no matter how I try
I just have to watch you grower weaker and weaker
till you finally die.



But I have to remember
the wish of my mother in all that I'm worth,
which will only come true
when there are no more of us left on this earth.

 

[Stan Bowles]

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[kavanelli]

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[Stan Bowles]

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[SONYMEGADRIVE]

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[Scientician 0.8]

Thanks for wreckin' my thread there guys. Kthx.

 

[SONYMEGADRIVE]

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[Denny Oubidoux]

ah lads.

here the scientician, have you hear mccormack sing Ben Bolt?
crushing.

Oh don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt
Sweet Alice with hair so brown
she wept with delight when you gave her a smile
And trembled with fear at your frown.
In the old church yard in the valley, Ben Bolt
In a corner obscure and alone
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone

And don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt
And the master so kind and so true,
And the little nook by the clear running brook,
Where we gathered the flowers as they grew?
On the masters grave grows the grass, Ben Bolt,
And the running little brook is now dry,
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remain Ben but you and I,
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remain Ben but you and I

 

[kavanelli]

Thanks for wreckin' my thread there guys. Kthx.

Why would you think the Thread wouldn't be wrecked, you are on Thumped

 

[Denny Oubidoux]

this was a pretty good elton john tune

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quite a daft video