Favourite Lyrics (1 Viewer)

[BC]

post them up here...

 

[the departed]

"if i could fuck a mountain, then i would fuck a mountain".
will oldham.

 

[flashback]

I used to compose my own critical notices in my head.
"The crowd gasp at Cocker's masterful control of the bicycle,
skilfully avoiding the dog turd next to the corner shop."
Imagining a blue plaque
above the place I first ever touched a girl's chest,
but hold on,
you've got to wait for the best.
You see you should take me seriously.
Very seriously indeed.
Cause I've been sleeping with your wife for the past sixteen weeks,
smoking your cigarettes,
drinking your brandy,
messing up the bed that you chose together.
And in all that time I just wanted you to come home unexpectedly one afternoon,
and catch us at it in the front room.
You see I spy for a living,
and I specialise in revenge,
on taking the things I know will cause you pain.
I can't help it,
I was dragged up.
My favourite parks are car parks,
grass is something you smoke,
birds are something you shag.
Take your "Year in Provence"
and shove it up your arse.

I quite like the anger of it all.

 

[Rogue]

Patriots Heart

if you want to see something patriotic there's a stripper
he don't that look that good but he's got an all american smile
that fills his underwear with all the lonely dollars
from all the lonely men who no one ever suffers
who wait around the bar and spend all their lonely hours
who’re already gone no ones running for cover
the farther the run away away the more you have to hide in the dark
white as a worm that crawls through the patriots heart

its so red white and blue the way he works the bar
selling his embraces like mr. president or a fallen star
and he doesn't care if you're worldly or wise
he's looking for men with sin in their eyes and
he always says the same thing: he says how are you doing baby
I'm your rod and your staff and for a tip you can touch me
and after a few tequilas he becomes something holy
and this crappy little bar with its sweating mirrors and mildewed ceiling
has more love than even natural selection
and dollar for dollar babe - its a better bargain
the more you pay the more it can break you all apart
dollars pour like ashes from the patriots heart

he knows that your good time will someday kill him
but the thought of getting old doesn't thrill him
he says give me all your money and don't tell me what you're thinking
I'm the past you wasted I'm the future you're obliterating
c’mon grandpa tell me what you're celebrating
that you're heart heart finally dried up
or that it finally stopped working and
how you make a dead man come is the undertakers art
make 'em shine like the alcohol that preserves the patriots heart

see him fade with the dawn and a pile of washington's
with his head in a spin - happy to pass out again
he would rather fade into the static than hear the violins
that whine like old lovers who whine that they loved him
he would rather laugh alone in the dark with the soft hands of heaven
because it leaves him alone with his new entertainment system
he does it for the money but he gives more than he’s given
he does it for the money but he gives more than he’s given
and its only when he’s naked he feels his heart
in the whorehouse desert of the patriots heart

we all want a patriots heart

I don't often hear lyrics, but I could post dozens of his songs.

 

[Denny Oubidoux]

i could probably post any number of roy harper songs but since hallucinating light is probably my favorite song ever i'll go with that one...

Locked in mortal combat as the future shadows loom
The guardian of my spirit fights his way across the room
To where the sick majority infest the myths of doom
But the lanterns of children hold firm in full bloom

And we'll walk a long long way together.
Though we found ourselves that way
Long before we knew.
Ah, but you know the way its worked I feel that
when I fly its with your soul,
And when I cry....................

I ride inside the purple dawn collecting golden dew
That falls from citadels of dreams I shake while flying through
Creation's key seems just in reach, ah but then its overdue
But as darkness surrounds us I'm reaching for you.

And we'll walk a long long way together
Though we found ourselves that way
Long before we knew.
Ah, but you know the way its worked I feel that
when I fly its with your soul,
And when I cry....................

Far across the universe the goblins of the night
Sometimes corner sunrise and keep him out of sight
but wandering the crossing minds, hallucinating light
Is the dream that I have of you holding me tight.

And we'll walk a long long way together
Though we found ourselves that way
Long before we knew.
Ah, but you know the way its worked I feel that
when I fly its with your soul,
And when I cry....................its you.

download this tune here if you want (its ogg)

 

[HMD]

Goin' home, late last night
suddenly I got a fright
Yeah I looked throught the window and surprised what I saw
Fairy boots were dancin' with a dwarf, all right now!

Fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
yeah I saw it, I saw it, I tell you no lies
Yeah Fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
I saw it, I saw it with my own two eyes, well all right now!

So I went to the doctor, see what he could give me
he said "Son, son, you've gone too far.
'cause smokin' and trippin' is all that you do.
Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

 

[nlgbbbblth]

There is no culture is my brag,
Your taste for bullshit reveals a lust for a home of office
THIS IS THE HOME OF THE VAIN!
THIS IS THE HOME OF THE VAIN!
Where are the obligatory niggers?
HEY THERE FUCKFACE!!
HEY THERE FUCKFACE!!

 

[BC]

"sisters of mercy" by leonard cohen:

O the sisters of mercy they are not
Departed or gone,
They were waiting for me when I thought
That I just cant go on,
And they brought me their comfort
And later they brought me this song.
O I hope you run into them
You whove been traveling so long.

Yes, you who must leave everything
That you cannot control;
It begins with your family,
But soon it comes round to your soul.
Well, Ive been where youre hanging
I think I can see how youre pinned.
When youre not feeling holy,
Your loneliness says that youve sinned.

Well they lay down beside me
I made my confession to them.
They touched both my eyes
And I touched the dew on their hem.
If your life is a leaf
That the seasons tear off and condemn
They will bind you with love
That is graceful and green as a stem.

When I left they were sleeping,
I hope you run into them soon.
Dont turn on the light
You can read their address by the moon;
And you wont make me jealous
If I hear that they sweeten your night
We werent lovers like that
And besides it would still be all right
We werent lovers like that
And besides it would still be all right.

 

[Lili Marlene]

all the lyrics I love look stupid when you can't hear the song

 

[BC]

"why you never became a dancer" by william bennett (whitehouse):

Can I suggest you:
Get fucked
While you lie about child-molesting gropes
And parkbench flashers and pervert creeps
And anal virginity and polaroid snaps
And verbal abuse and bathroom rapes
I don't know how well you can:
Remember your own pointless glue-sniffing adolescence
That fumbling floppy sex
In between fags
Those pathetic fistfights
All those pathetic petty thefts
And this and that and this and that and this and that
And every other fucking Adidas-clichéd cringe

Can I suggest you:
Pose
While you take another frantic glance at your shopwindow reflection
Ensuring the stinking lie is maintained
Because that's the difference between you
Yes, that's the difference between you
You'll let a leering scumbag beerdrinking rat
Raise your nostrils for a close-up smell
Of fingertip nicotine and animal fat
And force an open dead mouth
Lap up ounces of semichem sweat
So can you feel that:
Would be a truly truly disgusting thing?

And that's the difference between me
I'll open the package
I'll watch the show
I'll enjoy perfectly well-made art
I'll get in line behind stupidity
I'll let you lie through your teeth
I'll make you feel special
I'll not pick out the mistakes in public
I'll just put it down to passion
And feigned memory lapse

What did you want to be when you grow up?
Certainly not raped
That's the difference between you
A drunk? A drug addict
A motherly protector of the young?
Another bed-staining cunt?
A child molestor that needs to be told?
Or just a craven lust-driven artist
Channelling confusion and fear
Into a sickly limp repetitive craft
Yes, that's the difference between you
You'll act late and surprised
You say you loved sex?
You'll love being hated for the act
The filthier the abuse and the desperate underage details
The fatter the payback
So rather than just listen
Be altered by what's been said

Now that's the difference between me
I'll show you emotional truth
I'll show you the fucking source
I'll show you yet another fucking liar
And this is for the you
I'll show you that something that makes you:
Feel different
Feel special
I'll give you:
Thoughts
Images
Sounds
I'll give the you something
Even more interesting than the last one
And I'll tell you why it's the best one yet
And then you can look back on it all
And say:
This is the best thing that ever happened to me
And see:
Why you never became what you wanted to be​

 

[BC]

"i have a special plan for this world" by thomas ligotti (current 93):

when everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
when everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
when all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
as by a shining brainless beacon
or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
when you are calm and joyful
and finally entirely alone
then in a great new darkness
you will finally execute your special plan

one needs to have a plan someone said who was turned away into the shadows
and who i had believed was sleeping or dead
imagine he said all the flesh that is eaten
the teeth tearing into it
the tongue tasting its savor
and the hunger for that taste
now take away that flesh he said
take away the teeth and the tongue
the taste and the hunger
take away everything as it is
that was my plan
my own special plan for this world
i listened to these words and yet i did not wonder
if this creature whom i had thought sleeping or dead would ever approach his vision
even in his deepest dreams
or his most lasting death
because i had heard of such plans such visions
and i knew they did not see far enough
but what was demanded in a way of a plan
needed to go beyond tongue and teeth and hunger and flesh
beyond the bones and the very dust of bones and the wind that would come to blow the dust away
and so i began to envision a darkness that was long before the dark of night
and a strangely shining light
that owed nothing to the light of day

that day may seem like other days
once more we feel the tiny legged trepidations
once more we are mangled by a great grinding fear
but that day will have no others after
no more worlds like this will follow
because i have a plan
a very special plan
no more worlds like this
no more days like that

there are but four ways to die a sardonic spirit might have said to me
there is dying that occurs relatively suddenly
there is dying that occurs relatively gradually
there is dying that occurs relatively painlessly
there is the death that is full of pain
thus by various means they are combined
the sudden and the gradual
the painless and the painful
to yield but four ways to die
and there are no others
even after the voice stopped speaking
I listened for it to speak again
after hours and day and years have passed
I listened for some further words
yet all I heard were the faintest echoes reminding me
there are no others
there are no others
was it then that I began to conceive for this world
a special plan?

there are no means for escaping this world
it penetrates even into your sleep
and is his substance
you are caught in your own dreaming
where there is no space
and a hell forever where there is no time
you cant do nothing you aren't told to do
there is no hope for escape from this dream
that was never yours
the very words you speak are only its very words
and you talk like a traitor
under its incessant torture

there are many who have designs upon this world
and dream of wild and vast reformations
i have heard them talking in their sleep
of elegant mutations
and cunning annihilations
i have heard them whispering in the corners of crooked houses
and in the alleys and narrow back streets of this crooked creaking universe
which they with their new designs were made straight and sound
but each of these new and ill conceived designs
is deranged in its heart
for they see this world as if it were alone and original
and not as only one of count with others
whose nightmares all precede
like a hideous garden grown from a single seed
i have heard these dreamers talking in their sleep
and i stand waiting for them
as at the top of a darkened flight of stairs
they know nothing of me
and none of the secrets of my special plan
while i know every crooked creaking step of theirs

it was the voice of someone who was waiting in the shadows
who was looking at the moon and waiting for me to turn the corner
and enter a narrow street
and stand with him in the dull glaze of moonlight
then he said to me
he whispered
that my plan was misconceived
that my special plan for this world was a terrible mistake
because, he said, there is nothing to do and there is no where to go
there is nothing to be and there is no one to know
your plan is a mistake, he repeated
this world is a mistake, i replied

the children always followed him
when they saw him hopping by
a funny walk
a funny man
a funny funny funny man
he made them laugh sometimes
he made them laugh oh yes he did
he did he did he did he did
oh how he made them roll
one day he took them to a place
he knew a special place
and told them things about this world
this funny funny funny world
which made them laugh sometimes
he made them laugh oh yes he did
he did he did he did he did
oh how he made them roll
then the funny man who made them laugh
sometimes he did
revealed to them his special plan
his very special funny plan
knowing they would understand
and maybe laugh sometimes
he made them laugh
oh yes he did
he did he did he did he did
their eyes grew wide beneath there lids
and how he made them roll

i first learned the facts from a lunatic
in a dark and quiet room that smelled of stale time and space
there are no people
nothing at all like that
the human phenomenon is but the sum of densely coiled layers of illusion
each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity
but there are persons of any kind
when all that can be is mindless mirrors
laughing and screaming as they parade about
in an endless dream
but when i asked the lunatic what it was
it swore itself within these mirrors
as they marched endlessly in stale time and space
he only looked and smiled
then he laughed and screamed
and in his black and empty eyes
i saw for a moment as in a mirror
a form the shade of divinity
in flight from its stale infinity
of time and space and the worst of all
of this world dreams
my special plan for the laughter
and the screams

we went to see some little show
that was staged in an old shed
past the edge of town
and in its beginnings all seemed well
the miniature curtain stage glowed in the darkness
while those dolls bounced along on their strings before our eyes
and in its beginnings all seemed well
but then there came a suttle turning point which some have noticed
and i was one
who quietly left the show
no i did not
because i could see where things were going
as the antics of those dolls grew strange
and the fragile strings grew taut
with their tiny pullings ,tiny limbs
the others around me became appalled
and turned away and abandoned the show
that was staged in an old shed
past the edge of town
but i wanted to witness what could never be
i wanted to see what could not be seen
but the moment of consummate disaster
my puppets turned to face the puppet master

it was twilight and i stood in a grayish haze of the vast empty building
when the silence was enriched by a reverberant voice
all the things of this world it said
are of but one essence
for which there are no words
this is the greater part which has no beginning or end
and the one essence of this world for which there can be no words
is that all the things of this world
this is the lesser part which had a beginning and shall have an end
and for which words were conceived solely to speak of
the tiny broken beings of this world it said
the beginnings and endings of this world it said
for which words were conceived solely to speak of
now remove these words and what remains it asks me
as i stood in the twilight of that vast empty building
but i did not answer
the question echoed over and over
but i remained silent until the echoes died
and as twilight passed into the evening i felt my
special plan for which there are no words
moving towards a greater darkness

there are some who have no voices
or none that will ever speak
because of the things they know about this world
and the things they feel about this world
because the thoughts that fill a brain
that is a damaged brain
because the pain that fills a body
that is a damaged body
exists in other worlds
countless other worlds
each of which stands alone in an infinite empty blackness
for which no words are being conceived
and where no voices are able to speak
when a brain is filled only with damaged thoughts
when a damaged body is filled only with pain
and stands alone in a world surrounded by infinite empty blackness
and exists in a world for which there is no special plan

when everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
when everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
when all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
as by a shining brainless beacon
or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
when you are calm and joyful
and finally entirely alone
then in a great new darkness
you will finally execute your special plan

 

[BC]

"bata motel" by eve libertine (crass):

I've got 54321
I've got a red pair of high-heels on
Tumble me over, it doesn't take much
Tumble me over, tumble me, push
In my red high-heels I've no control
The rituals of repression are so old
You can do what you like, there'll be no reprisal
I'm yours, yes I'm yours, it's my means of survival

I've got 54321
Come on my love, I know you're strong
Push me hard, make me stagger
The pain in my back just doesn't matter
You force-hold me above the ground
I can't get away, my feet are bound
So I'm bound to say
That I'm bound to stay

Well today I look so good
Just like I know I should
My breasts to tempt inside my bra
My face is painted like a movie star
I've studied my flaws in your reflection
And put them to rights with savage correction
I've turned my statuesque perfection
And shone it over in your direction
So come on darling, make me yours
Trip me over, show me the floor
Tease me, tease me, make me stay
In my red high-heels I can't get away
I'm trussed and bound like an oven ready bird
But I bleed without dying and I won't say a word
Slice my flesh and I'll ride the scar
Put me into gear like your lady car
Drive me fast and crash me crazy
I'll rise from the wreckage as fresh as a daisy
These wounds leave furrows as they heal
I've travelled them, they're red and real
I know them well, they're part of me
My birth, my sex, my history
They grew with me, my closest friend
My pain's my own, my pain's my end
Clip my wings so you know where I am
I can't get lost while you're my man
Tame me so I know your call
I've stabbed my heels so I am tall
I've bound my twisted falling fall
Beautiful mute against the wall
Beautifully mutilated as I fall
Use me, don't lose me

I've got 54321
I've got a red pair of high-heels on
Strap my ankles, break my heels
Make me kneel, make me feel
Turn, turn, turn, like a clockwork doll
Put in your key and give me a whirl
Tease me, tease me, the reason to play
In my red high-heels I can't get away
I'll be your bonsai, your beautiful bonsai
Your black-eyed bonsai, erotically rotting
Will my tiny feet fit your desire?
Warped and tied I walk on fire
Burn me out, twist my wrists
I promise not to shout, beat me with your fists
Squeeze me, squeeze me, make me feel
In my red high-heels I'm an easy kill
Tease me, Tease me, make me see
You're the only one, I need to be me
Thankyou, will you take me?
Thankyou, will you make me?
Thankyou, will you break me?
Use me, don't lose me
Taste me, don't waste me
Use, lose, taste, waste​

 

[BC]

"holy" by nicole blackman (the golden palominos):

I eat only sleep and air
and everyone thinks I'm dumb
but I'm smart because I've figured it out.

I am slimmer than you are
and I am burning my skin off little by little
until I reach bone and self
until I get to where I am essential
until I get to where I am

Food doesn't tempt me anymore
because I am so full of energy and sense
I can even pass by water now
because I am living off the parts of me
that I don't need anymore.

I could feel the slow drips of pain before,
swirling inside where my lungs should have been.
Now I'm clean inside.

I threw out hundreds of things that I didn't need anymore.
All my dresses and bras
stupid things like jeans and socks.
Most days I float through the house naked
so I can see myself in the mirrors.
I have hundreds of them everywhere
and they talk back to me all the time.
They keep me true and pure.
They make sure I'm still here.

When I knew what I had to do
I took all my notebooks, all my manuscripts
and ate them page by page
so I could take my words with me.

I can finally control my life and even death
and I will die slowly like steam escaping from a pipe.

This is my greatest performance
and all of the actresses who won my parts will say
how wonderful to let yourself go that mad,
how wonderful to go on this kind of journey
and not care if you come back to tell the story.

I scratch words on the walls now
so people will visit this museum and know
how someone like me ends up like this
(they'll say there is art in here somewhere).

Everything that comes out of me is sacred
every tear, every cough, every piss.
Everything that comes off of me is sacred
every fingernail, every eyelash, every hair.

Starvation is sacred and I scratch my bones
against the windows at night.
I light candles and feel myself evaporate.
This body is a little church, a little temple.
You can't see me now because I've gone inside.

My family doesn't call anymore.
My friends don't call anymore.
You can't hurt me anymore.
They can't hurt me anymore.
Only I can.

And that's okay.
I don't need them anymore.
I can live off of me.
I speak to me.
I dance with me.
I eat me.

When they find me, I'll have a little smile on my face
and they'll wrap me in a white cloth and lay me in the ground
and say they don't understand.
But I do.
I don't hurt anymore.
I'm not lonely anymore.
I'm not sad I'm not pretty anymore.
I made it through.

I feel so holy and clean when I stretch out on the floor and sing.
Sometimes god comes in for a minute and says I'm doing fine, I'm almost there.

Every day I get a little closer to vanishing.
Some days I can't stand up because the room moves under my feet
and I smile because I'm almost there,
I'm almost an angel.

One day when I am thin enough
I'll go outside
fluttering my hands so I can fly
and I will be so slight that I will pass through all of you
silently
like wind.

 

[oh shit]

I stick it deep inside,
Cos I'm loose

 

[BC]

"ruthless babysitting" by philip best (consumer electronics):

So this is what you’ve spent your time doing
Waiting for Sally’s daughters to grow up
I know you’re fond of questions
So here’s some fucking answers
We’ll gently rewrite some history
And make believe it’s all about empathy + compassion.

But first tell me again in bad fucking English
About your three months as a prostitute
The art project gone bad : the trip home at Christmas
To get the money for an abortion
400 euros in your hand
That you swore you couldn’t find another way
I’d have paid gladly.

I caught you going through the rubbish again
Empty blister packs on sildenafil citrate
Why would you want to
Worship that sickly grey mess?
Where’s the ecstatic truth in that?
The French harlot child promising soon or never
The paedophile in love gazing at 70s snapshots
And feeling very fucking safe.

Safe as bright-eyed Anne scribbling by candlelight
You cherish the image of her
Awkwardly posed in the street
The photographer’s shadow set to swallow her whole
Dark as the war itself : a cheap agfa Vermeer
For connoisseurs perverts and enthusiasts
And not forgetting pretentious cunts like you.

Or those lucky bundles of warm good nature
On summer days in rural France
When they peer into the lens
Momentarily distracted from the kittens
Or dressing up game
What do they know about sex beasts + cancer scares?
Partial birth abortion and vaginal infection?
David Bowie in Modern Painters.

I’ll give you fucking honest
Your favourite movie : The War Zone
Favourite album covers
: Virgin Killer, Houses Of The Holy, U2 Boy
Favourite photographer: Dodgson
Favourite artists: Balthus, Remarko
: Anything with a kid in it
Favourite Google search
: Russian Orphanage
: Ruthless Babysitting
: Elite Gymnastics

And you got the clap on your 14th birthday
From that shy friend of your father
Who fingerfucked you in the same car
He later sucked down the gas in
Those exquisite books you pestered him for
Octavo editions of poets that sit still unread
On the shelf by the bed
For dreaming of who-the-fuck-knows-what.

Dirty Jessie’s all grown up now
Today is her cocaine day
Even through the haze of cocks + hip-hop rapist paws
She can see we’re all still wallowing in the mud
However artfully framed on white gallery walls
I can look you in the eyes
And see what you spend your time doing
When it gets dark and messy
The band broke up : I lost a lot of fucking weight.

Your favourite book : The Old Curiosity Shop
Not the celebrated rapesnuff of Little Nell
So much more adorable alive
Though preferably sleeping
Unwatched and uncared for in the midst of decay
The child botanical, the angel imperial
Not laid out like Jessie or an empty dirty dress
You can call me a cunt if you like
Because you’ll still put the batteries in the baby
Like a simpering NAMBLA freak.

 

[oh shit]

ever listen to any short songs brian?

 

[BC]

sometimes

 

[Jerry Twig]

I stick it deep inside,
Cos I'm loose

see that's way more relevant than all that self-indulgent stuff that Mr.Conniffe posted.
Take a break Brian

 

[pavlos]

...always struck me as memorable.... (Excerpt from 'Fight The Power' by Public Enemy)

"Elvis was a hero to most -
But he never meant, shit to me you see
Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain
Mother fuck him and John Wayne
Cause I'm Black and I'm proud
I'm ready and hyped plus I'm amped
Most of my heroes don't appear on no stamps
Sample a look back you look and find
Nothing but rednecks for 400 years if you check
Don't worry be happy
Was a number one jam
Damn if I say it you can slap me right here
(Get it) lets get this party started right
Right on, c'mon
What we got to say
Power to the people no delay
Make everybody see
In order to fight the powers that be"

 

[Lili Marlene]

Dear God by XTC had pretty good lyrics. Still better with the music though so i'm not gonna post them up.

here's some loser on youtube lip-synching to it, watch him emote

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