Gimme some good meaningful lyric'ed songs.

Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades

Keep the noise low,
She doesn't wanna blow it,
Shaking head to toe
while your left hand does the "show me around"
Quickens your heartbeat,
It beats me straight into the ground.

You don't recover from a night like this.
A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless.
A hand moves in the dark to a zipper.
Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets
barely whisper, "This is so messed up."

Upon arrival the guests had all stared.
Dripping wet and clearly depressed,
he'd headed straight for the stairs.
No longer cool, but a boy in a stitch,
unprepared for a life full of lies and failing relationships.

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

He keeps his hands low.
He doesn't wanna blow it.
He's wet from head to toe and
his eyes give her the up and the down.
His stomach turns and he thinks of throwing up.
But the body on the bed beckons forward
and he starts growing up.

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason i breathed, but now its choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

She hits the lights.
This doesn't seem quite fair.
Despite everything he learned from his friends,
he doesn't feel so prepared.
She's breathing quiet and smooth.
He's gasping for air.
"This is the first and last time," he says.
She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He's holding back from telling her
exactly what it really feels like.

He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.
She's moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.
Nothing that he tells her's really having an effect.
He whispers that he loves her,
but she's probably only looking for...

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

So much more than he could ever give.
A life free of lies and a meaningful relationship.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He waits for it to end
and for the aching in his guts to subside.

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason i breathed, but now its choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason i breathed, but now its choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

how about dese concious rasta vibez man?

Fire Pon Rome (Burn pope) by Anthony B

Fire pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an him scissors an comb,
Black people waan go home
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne

1. This is my question to Issa and the one Matalon
How unno get fi own so much black people land
After dem slave, achieve nutten inna hand
Check out greater Portmore, Braeton
One room unno build a sell fi one million
Dem dey studio house nuh worth a hundred gran
Thrue mi a lick out dem waa mi keep quiat
But mi a bun fire fi di one Butch Stewart
Who buy out di plane an all di pilot
Thrue mi nuh inna Jamaica, love fi tan
Mi haffi bun fire fi the one Naree Azan
Everybody know how downtown a fi di poor man
How dem claims it an sey a to dem it belong
No more hustling, dat mean no food inna hand one help wi have is the Almighty One
Jamaicans help sing mi song

Chorus

2. My Lord, don't talk jus listen,
Mi haffi bun fire fi P.J. Patterson
Him mek certain move an wi nuh too certain
How much black youth behind iron curtain
Thrue mi naw go trod inna Babylon order
Mi haffi bun fire fi one name Seaga
Everyday cost a living get harder
Have more seller more than buyer
Oh my Lord , what a pressure

Chorus

3. So many things politician have stolen
Still them return with the one Bruce Golding
Saying a brand new party dem forming
But a part dem a part we with dem politics meeting
Out A politics poor people get them beaten
Look who dem have a tun metropolitan officer
Fi tek yuh hustling out a yuh hand
When yuh look pon dem face a yuh own black man
Well out of the slum di poor people send mi
Fi look what a gwaan and don't disagree
What is the benefit of GCT?
It benefit you but it never fit me

some deep shit:


Blowfly:
"Go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-od-DAMN!! Shee-yee-YIT!! Look at the ass
on that bitch! Look at the titties!"

(Mixx scratches "Aw hit me!" and "Hold your legs up on easy.")

Verse 1
[FKI] There's only one place where we can go
To see freaky hoes doin' shows
Doin' tricks to make us holler
On a giving night, all for a dollar
Silicone breasts, all on their chests
Nothin' like others, but above the rest
They'll do anything to turn us on
Them hoes got it goin' on!!
[BM] I like big booty and big ol' titties
Bitch, you know you've been fucked by many
So come and be my private dancer
I got some money if that's the answer
I really wanna be with you;
I get hard after seeing you
How hard? Hard like a rock,
When you make that pussy pop!

Chorus(2x): Luke
Pop that pussy! Heyyy! Pop that pussy, baby!
Pop that pussy! Pop, pop that pussy, baby!

Verse 2
[FKI] Freaky bitches with plenty of ass
Rollin' to the music and shakin' real fast
Bend over backwards, make me shout
And work that pussy, in and out
Movin' their body with plenty of action
Bringin' to the men more satisfaction
Doin' what they feel to turn us out
Just work that pussy all the way out!
[BM] Shake it! Don't break it!
It took your momma nine months to make it
Bend over and spread 'em, girl
Show-w-w me those pussy pearls
Rub that ass and play with that clit
You know I like that freaky shit
Girl, you know you look so cute
Throwin' that pussy the way you do!

Chorus

Verse 3
[FKI] Poppin' that pussy's a dance for the ladies
Straight from the South, into the 90's
Freaky bitches are the ones I like
In G-strings in the middle of the night
Smoke-filled stages, bitches in cages
Guards at the door, armed with gauges
As they dance and I get hot,
Keep throwin' that pussy! Don't stop!
[BM] I like the way you lick the champagne glass
It makes me wanna stick my dick in your ass
So come on, baby, and pop it quick
I fall in love when you suck my dick
Bitch, you don't know? You ain't heard?
Fuckin' with me, you're gonna get served
See, none of my bitches, they never complain
So come on, baby, and pop that thang!

Chorus

Luke:
Janet J, pop, that pus-sy!
Bu-bles, pop, that pus-sy!
Sandra P, pop, that pus-sy!
Ma-donna, pop that stinky smelly pussy, baby!

(Mixx scratches "Work this motherfucker!" "Shit, this good!" "Woo hoo!")

I once knew a nigga whose real name was William
his primary concern, was making a million
being the illest hustler, that the world ever seen
he used to fuck moviestars and sniff coke in his dreams
a corrupted young mind, at the age of thirteen
nigga never had a father and his mom was a feen
she put the pipe down, but forever yeah she was sober
her sons heart simultaneously grew colder
he started hanging out selling bags in the projects
checking the young chicks, looking for hit and run prospects
he was fascinated by material objects
but he understood money never bought respect
he build a reputation cuz he could hustle and steal
but got locked once it didn't hessitate to squeal
so criminals he chilled with didn't think he was real
you see me and niggaz like this have never been equal
I dont project my insurecurity's at other people
he feeded for props like addicts with pipes and needles
so he felt he had to proof to everyone he was evil
a fever minded young man with infinite potetial
the product of a ghetto ... capatalistic mental
coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed
dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes would bleed
but he was sick of selling trees and gave in to his greed

So Billy started robbing niggaz, anything he could do
he'd get his respect back, in the eyes of his crew
starting fights over little shit, up on the block
stepped up to selling mothers and brothers the crack rock
working overtime for making money for the crack spot
hit the jackpot and wanted to move up to cocaine
for filling the scarface fantasy stuck in his brain
tired of the block niggaz treating him the same
he wanted to be major like the cut throats and the thugs
but when he tried to step to 'em, niggaz showed him no love
they told him any motherfucking coward can sell drugs
any bitch nigga with a gun, can bust slugs
any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood
even Puffy smoked the motherfucker up in a club
but only a real thug can stab someone till they die
standing in front of them, starring straight into their eyes
Billy realized that these men were well guarded
and they wanted to test him, before business started
suggested raping a bitch to proof he was cold hearted
so now he had a choice between going back to his life
or making money with made men, up in the cife
his dreams about cars and ice, made him agree
a hardcore nigga is all he ever wanted to be
and so he met them friday night at a quarter to three

They drove around the projects slow while it was raining
smoking blunts, drinking and joking for entertainment
untill they saw a woman on the street walking alone
three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home
and so they quietly got out the car and followed her

walking through the projects, the darkness swallowed her
they wrapped her shirt around her head and knocked her onto the floor
this is it kid now you got your chance to be raw
so Billy oaked her up and grapped the chick by the hair
and dragged her into a lobby that had nobody there
she struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs
they got to the roof and then held her down on the ground
screaming shut the fuck up and stop moving around
the shirt covered her face, but she screamed the clouts
so Billy stomped on the bitch, until he broken her jaw
the dirty bastards knew exactly what they were doing
they kicked her until they cracked her ribs and she stopped moving
blood leaking through the corpse, she cried silently
and then they all proceeded to rape her violently
Billy was meant to go first, but he ????? turn
ripping her up, and choking her until her throat burned
a broken jaw mumbled for god but they weren't concerned
when they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and broos
one of them niggaz pulled out a brand new twenty-two
they told him that she was a witness of what she'd gone through
and if he killed her he was guaranteed a spot in the crew
he thought about it for a minute, she was practicly dead
and so he leaned over and put the gun right to her head

Right before he pulled the trigger, and ended her life
he thought about the cold pain with the platinum and ice
and he felt strong standing along with his new brothers
cocked the gat to her head, and pulled back the shirt cover
but what he saw made him start the cringine studder
cuz he was starring into the eyes of his own mother
she looked back at him and cried, cuz he had forsaken her
she cried more painfully, than when they were raping her
his whole world stopped, he couldn't even contiplate
his corruption had succesfully changed his fate
and he remembered how his mom used to come home late
working hard for nothing, cuz now what was he worth
he turned away from the woman that had once given him birth
and crying out to the sky cuz he was lonely and scared
but only the devil responded, cuz god wasn't there
and right then he knew what it was to be empty and cold
and so he jumped off the roof and died with no soul
they say death take you to a better place but I doubt it
after that they killed his mother, and never spoke about it
and listen cuz the story that I'm telling is true
cuz I was there with Billy Jacobs and I raped his mom to
and now the devil follows me everywhere that I go
infact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows
and every street cypher listening to little thugs flowe
he could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn't know
the devil grows inside the hearts of the selvish and wicked
white, brown, yellow and black colored is not restricted
you have a self destructive destiny when your inflicted
and you'll be one of gods children and fell from the top
there's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot
so when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never
because the dance with the devil might last you forever

immortal technique - dance with the devil

um, just look up anything by bob dylan.

^ fuck Yeah BOB DYLAN is the man i cant believe someone said that though

Mad World by Tears for Fears
(get the gary jules version though, its better)

All around me are familiar faces,
wornout places, wornout faces...
bright and early for the daily races,
going nowhere, going nowhere...
the tears are filling up their glasses,
no expression, no expression...
hide my head i want to drown my sorrow,
no tomorrow, no tomorrow...

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
the dreams in which im dying
are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
when people run in circles its a ver very...

mad world...
mad world...

children waiting for the day they feel good,
happy birthday, happy birthday...
get to feel the way that every child should,
sit and listen, sit and listen...
Went to school and I was very nervous,
noone knew me, noone knew me...
Hello teacher tell me whats my lesson,
look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
the dreams in which im dying
are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
when people run in circles its a ver very...


mad world...
mad world...

enlargen your world...

mad world...

fuck i love that song!

word. that song is so depressing.

when u pissed at some one listen to lake of fire by either the meat puppets or nirvana

kinda makes u feel better

Tool - Parabola



We barely remember who or what came before this precious moment,
We are choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside
This holy reality, this holy experience.
Choosing to be here in

This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.

Alive, I

In this holy reality, in this holy experience. Choosing to be here in

This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.

Twirling round with this familiar parable.
Spinning, weaving round each new experience.
Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this chance to be alive and breathing.

This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
Embrace this moment. Remember. we are eternal.
all this pain is an illusion.

If you like rap- check out some Wu tang for good lyrics
If you like regular stuff- Then check out Bob Dylan for amazing lyrics
Check out mostly any Pink Floyd for good lyrics
and for one song- Check out John Lennon's "Imagine"

There is so much more, tons of amazing writers out there

used to know this woman who had the most beautiful
tattoos on the top sides of both of her hands
she was forty three years old and as far as I know
had never yet been with a man
its not that she wasn't attractive she was beatiful
but its the way that she interacted
she was aggressively passive to the point where she
would of intimidated any mitt that ever tried to catch her
on the right hand she had a tattoo of a nude girl
she claimed it is what God resembled
but on the left she had a mirrored image of the same female
and this one she explained looked like the devil
I remember once watching her touch her own breasts
how the tattoos smiled as they stared down her stomach
as if anticipating would they be allowed to caress
the sweet flower that they both seemed to hunger (sweet flower)
now maybe I was high but it felt so right
heaven and hell both take to this womans womb
it didn't make sense how she could commence
touching herself with me wide awake in the same room
now if I've learned anything in my years (my years)
I learned I no longer believe in surprise (in surprise)
but what happened next damn near stole my tears
the tattoos came alive right in front of my eyes
they both slowly stood up and climbed off her hands
and showed me why she never took some time with a man
they climbed deep inside of this woman's garden
she closed her eyes and she gently bit her bottom lip
I stepped I left and I don't regret leaving
and I'll never forget all the things I saw that evening
a glimpse of religion a piece of coming closer
to understanding more about what intrigues me most
I didn't get turned on I just got turned
I wasn't as aroused as I was concerned
for each one of em I've hurt
and every time I've been burned
I've got a lot to teach but even more to learn
so now I keep my eyes open hoping to take in all I can
about Woman taking in all she can
and for as long as I breath i'll save a seat in my memory
for that woman with the tattooed hands

(chorus: repeat 5x till song fades)
There's good and evil in each individual fire
identifies needs and feeds our desires
as long as we keep our spirit inspired
she can bite her bottom lip all she wants

Bohemian Rhapsody-Queen

Is this the real life-
Is this just fantasy-
Caught in a landslide-
No escape from reality-
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see-
I’m just a poor boy,i need no sympathy-
Because I’m easy come,easy go,
A little high,little low,
Anyway the wind blows,doesn’t really matter to me,
To me

Mama,just killed a man,
Put a gun against his head,
Pulled my trigger,now he’s dead,
Mama,life had just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away-
Mama ooo,
Didn’t mean to make you cry-
If I’m not back again this time tomorrow-
Carry on,carry on,as if nothing really matters-

Too late,my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine-
Body’s aching all the time,
Goodbye everybody-I’ve got to go-
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth-
Mama ooo- (any way the wind blows)
I don’t want to die,
I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all-

I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche,scaramouche will you do the fandango-
Thunderbolt and lightning-very very frightening me-
Galileo,galileo,
Galileo galileo
Galileo figaro-magnifico-
But I’m just a poor boy and nobody loves me-
He’s just a poor boy from a poor family-
Spare him his life from this monstrosity-
Easy come easy go-,will you let me go-
Bismillah! no-,we will not let you go-let him go-
Bismillah! we will not let you go-let him go
Bismillah! we will not let you go-let me go
Will not let you go-let me go
Will not let you go let me go
No,no,no,no,no,no,no-
Mama mia,mama mia,mama mia let me go-
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me,for me,for me-

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye-
So you think you can love me and leave me to die-
Oh baby-can’t do this to me baby-
Just gotta get out-just gotta get right outta here-

Nothing really matters,
Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters-,nothing really matters to me,

Any way the wind blows....

u know we r all eternal

oh man i was gonna say that,

well then heres CSNY-

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are gunning us down
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are gunning us down
Should have been done long ago.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?

Tin soldiers and Nixon coming,
We're finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming,
Four dead in Ohio.

Here is a REALLY poetic song in which lyrics can not get any more meaningful, except it's very beautiful and hidden. The title of the album though, Selling England by the Pound, might give you a hint.

DANCING WITH THE MOONLIGHT KNIGHT
Genesis


Can you tell me where my country lies?,
Said the unifaun to his true love's eyes
It lies with me, cried the Queen of Maybe
For her merchandise, he traded in his prize

Paper late!, cried a voice in the crowd
Old man dies! The note he left was signed old father Thames,
It seems he's drowned
Selling England by the pound

Citizens of Hope and Glory
Time goes by
It's 'the time of your life'
Easy now, sit you down
Chewing through your Wimpey dreams
They eat, without a sound
Digesting England by the pound

Young man says you are what you eat - eat well
Old man says you are what you wear - wear well
You know what you are, you don't give a damn
Bursting your belt that is your homemade sham

The captain leads his dance right on through the night
Join the dance...
Follow on! Till the Grail sun sets in the mould
Follow on! Till the gold is cold
Dancing out with the moonlit knight
Knights of the Green Shield stamp and shout

There's a fat old lady outside the saloon
Laying out the credit cards she plays fortune
The deck is uneven right from the start
All of their hands are playing apart

The captain leads his dance right on through the night
Join the dance...
Follow on! A round Table-talking down we go
You're the show!
Off we go with - You play the hobbyhorse
I'll play the fool
We'll tease the bull
Ringing round and loud, loud and round
Follow on! With a twist of the world we go
Follow on! Till the gold is cold
Dancing out with the moonlit knight
Knights of the Green Shield stamp and shout

don't forget anything by Neil Young if you want more politically driven lyrics, alsoskynyrd songs tell good stories, i really like the ballad of curtis lowe. you be surprised, what some songs say if you listen to and think about the lyrics.

yay, atmosphere

Nevermore
This Godless Endeavor

And on the open road we came to a sign
For it was foretold that the weak would inherit
And nothing would change
Here we are at the crossroads, standing face to back
Still afraid to see our eyes
I feel helpless and alone, trapped on the third stone

Sitting here sideways on a cold stone floor
My guitar gently bleeding and wanting more
When I heard a sound come rapping, tapping on my door

Hello, I’m happy to meet you
In your confidence is it safe?
Sit down I’m happy to greet you
To feed your greedy dog at the edge of the stage?
But before, before you slam the door
Tell me when, tell me why, tell me what this fucking life is for
We fly through this godless endeavor
We try to explain the black forever

I feel helpless and alone, trapped on the third stone

I feel permanently stoned, this godless endeavor the only cage I’ve known

Our organic equation has shown it’s flaw
Can we agree to disagree on the concept of god?
As I lifted up my brother he said to me
“Abandon naive realism, surrender thought in cold precision”

I feel empty and deranged, denied one last epiphany and ushered from the stage

Thou shalt not question, the role of science is not to eliminate god
As alternative gods multiply science stands accused of theocide
Consume, conform

The children sitting in the trees, they turn to laugh at me
They tell me that I’m insane, but in my mind I know I’m to blame
Alone within my lunacy, dementia fills the void within me
No testament, prayer or diseased lament can heal my wounds
They are so discontent

All the faithful fall onto their knees
And praise the priests of industrial disease

We contemplate oblivion as we resonate our dissonance
In godless random interpretation
The universe still expands, mankind still can’t understand
How to define you, so hide your face and watch us exterminate ourselves over you
Welcome to the end my friend, the sky has opened

Just one more, cause it's meaningful to me right now...

Arch Enemy
Dark Insanity

Weak and sick I crawl
In the dust of past mistakes
Leaving for the darkness
Of tears and cold heartaches

Suffer in this grief
Of forever burning hate
The ashes of my life
By the torment you create

On my knees... remembering
The wasted years of dark insanity

The rage increases fast
As the memories eat me alive
God, I wish this to end
But I'm not prepared to die
No more a human being
Just a fool of anxiety
Unable to escape
The darkest insanity

I Love the Night-Blue Oyster Cult

That night her kiss told me it was over
I walked out late into the dark
The misty gloom seems to soak up my sorrow
The further I went on I felt a spreading calm
Then suddenly my eyes were bathed in a light
And the lovely lady in white was by my side
She said "Like me I see you're walking alone
Won't you please stay?" I couldn't look away

She said I love the night
The day is OK and the sun can be fun
But I live to see those rays slip away
I love the night
There's so much I can show and give to you
If you will welcome me tonight
If only you had been there my dear
We could have shared this together

No mortal was meant to see such wonder
One look in the mirror told me so
Come darkness I'll see her again
Yes I'm gonna go 'cause now I know

She said I love the night
The day is OK and the sun can be fun
But I live to see those rays slip away
I love the night
There's so much that I can show and give to you
If you will welcome me tonight
If only you had been there my dear
We could have shared this together


You Make Me Feel So Young-Frank Sinatra

You make me feel so young
You make me feel like spring has sprung
Every time I see you grin
I'm such a happy individual

The moment that you speak
I want to go and play hide-and-seek
I want to go and bounce the moon
Just like a toy balloon

You and I, are just like a couple of tots
Running across the meadow
Picking up lots of forget-me-nots

You make me feel so young
You make me feel there are songs to be sung
Bells to be rung, and a wonderful fling to be flung

And even when I'm old and gray
I'm gonna feel the way I do today
'Cause you make me feel so young

Just a couple of my favorite lyrical songs.

Yes- I've seen all good people
It's about chess, but is it?

I've seen all good people turn their heads each day
so satisfied I'm on my way.
I've seen all good people turn their heads each day
so satisfied I'm on my way.

Take a straight and stronger course to the corner of your life.
Make the white queen run so fast she hasn't got time to make you a wife.

'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured
For the queen to use.
Move me on to any black square,
Use me any time you want,
Just remember that the goal
Is for us all to capture all we want
(Move me on to any black square)
Yea, yea, yea.

Don't surround yourself with yourself,
Move on back two squares,
Send an Instant Karma to me,
Initial it with loving care
Don't surround
Yourself.

'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured
For the queen to use.

Don't surround yourself with yourself,
Move on back two squares,
Send an Instant Karma to me,
Initial it with loving care

Don't surround
Yourself with yourself.
Don't surround yourself.

Send an Instant
Karma to me. Don't surround yourself.



'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured
For the queen to use.

'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured.

zac clark - stay

today i lied and told myself a thousand times
that i’d be fine if i left this behind.
i guess that’s right; i could survive and live my life,
but i could never find perfection twice.

we can’t waste any time thinking about time;
there’s not much on our hands.
but you’re always on my mind,
so please tell me your heart still beats with mine
cause i love the way
i feel today
and for the first time in my life, i’m gonna stay.

everyone is counting down the days,
but if i had my way,
i’d stretch these weeks into forever.
i don’t know how this all got started,
but if you asked me when it would end,
i’d hope for something close to never.

we can’t waste any time thinking about time;
there’s not much on our hands.
but you’re always on my mind,
so please tell me your heart still beats with mine
cause i love the way
i feel today
and for the first time in my life, i’m gonna stay.

dude, I was about to post that and I just skimmed through to make sure noone had already and BAM. Good choice man

Amazing song. One of my all time favorites.

Death Cab for Cutie

"What Sarah Said"

And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time
As I stared at my shoes in the ICU that reeked of piss and 409
And I rationed my breathes as I said to myself that I'd already taken too much today
As each descending peak of the LCD took you a little farther away from me

Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines in a place where we only say goodbye
It stung like a violent wind that out memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds
But I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all
And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself

'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room
Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news
And then the nurse comes round and everyone will lift their heads
But I'm thinking of what Sarah said that "Love is watching someone die"

So who's going to watch you die?..

ANYTHING by elliott smith...and speaking of elliott smith...

Join the Elliott Smith Cult. Haven't heard of him? He was quite possibly the greatest song writer of the past decade. PM me for an invite or just reply here.

kickass song, you know they're good when they can write an excellent song about something like chess.

word.. if you can interweave chess and life lessons, well then. You are very talented thats all I can say

If u want good punk rock that has some kickass lyrics definetely look up Strung Out. A lot of their songs at first just sound like any other punk song but then once u look up the lyrics, they're pretty fucking amazing.

thats a good one. intense it is.

ANYTHING by Sting. He didn't get Knighted for doing nothing.

to back myself up...


If we seek solace in the prisons of the distant past
Security in human systems we're told will always always last
Emotions are the sail and blind faith is the mast
Without a breath of real freedom we're getting nowhere fast

If God is dead and an actor plays his part
His words of fear will find their way to a place in your heart
Without the voice of reason every faith is its own curse
Without freedom from the past things can only get worse

Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later just like the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away

History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing

Our written history is a catalogue of crime
The sordid and the powerful, the architects of time
The mother of invention, the oppression of the mild
The constant fear of scarcity, aggression as its child

Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later
Sooner or later

Convince an enemy, convince him that he's wrong
Is to win a bloodless battle where victory is long
A simple act of faith
In reason over might
To blow up his children will only prove him right
History will teach us nothing

Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later the world first day
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away
Sooner or later we learn to throw the past away

History will teach us nothing
History will teach us nothing

Know you human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for
Know your human rights
Be what you come here for

Sting-History Will Teach Us Nothing


There's a million more where that came from.

if you want some deep shit that will make you think and youll never quite get everything cause you notice something new everytime you listen to any of their songs. check out phlegm. not sure where to get his lyrics but you can find his music most anywhere. or just search 3 sides of a cirle or something like that.

anything by Brand New is fucking deep. but The Eagles - Hotel California deffinately goes down for me as one of the best songs ever. it's just a massive metaphor for drug abuse, so good.

dance with the devil gives me the shivers every time

Citizen Cope: Bullet and a Target

Mr.Dali Lamas
Another sister's shootin' heroin tomarrow
Amputees in Freetown
Sierra Leone's
The church wasnt honest
The state put the youth in a harness
Creatin' hostility among us
Teacher said no college
Still the kid's gotta get a check with a couple commas
People wanna bomb us
More people gotta scatter and run rom us
You can blame it on Zeus and Apollo and Adonis

But what you've done here
Is put yourself between a bullet and a target
And it won't be long before
You're pulling yourself away

But what you've done here
Is put yourself between a bullet and a target
And it won't be long before
You're pulling yourself away

I've been knowing her for years
I've been seeing her foor years she got dark, dark wavy hair
With a voice like she just don't care
She got a skirt with a halter top
She's got a dad who nevr gave enough
She drink a beer with a proper shot
She got knocked up in a pickup truck
But she got engaged when she was nineteen
To this dude who was acting insane
Has a .45 that he always cleaned
Said one day one day one too many days
Now she ducked and she ran away
Never to be heard from, never to be seen
I check the cover of a magazine
I'm just wondering how, just wondering how

But what you've done here
Is put yourself between a bullet and a target
And it won't be long before
You're pulling yourself away

Tool-Third Eye

Bill Hicks: See I think drugs have done good things for us. I really do. And if you don't believe drugs have done good things for us, do me a favor. Go home tonight, take all your albums, all your tapes, all your CD's, and burn them. 'Cause you know what? The musicians who made all that great music that's enhances your lives throughout the years? Reeeeaaaalllll fucking high on drugs.

Today young men on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one conciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather.

It's not a war on drugs, it's a war on personal freedom is what it is, okay? Keep that in mind at all times, thank you.


Dreaming of that face again
It's bright and blue and shimmering
Grinning wide and comforting me with it's three warm and wild eyes

On my back and tumbling
Down that hole and back again
Rising up and wiping the webs and the dew from my withered eye

In out in out
Innnnnnnn

A child's rhyme stuck in my head
It said that life is but a dream
I've spent so many years in question,
to find I've known this all along

"So good to see you.
I've missed you so much.
So glad it's over.
I've missed you so much.
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running?"

Shrouding all the ground around me
Is this holy crow above me.
Black as holes within a memory
and blue as our new second sun.
I stick my hand into his shadow
to pull the pieces from the sand
Which I attempt to reassemble
to see just who I might have been.
I do not recognize the vessel,
but the eyes seem so familiar.
Like phosphorescent desert buttons
singing one familiar song...

"So good to see you.
I've missed you so much.
So glad it's over
I've missed you so much.
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?

Prying open my third eye(4x).

So good to see you once again.
I though that you were hiding.
You that that I had run away
Chasing the tail of dogma.

Opened my eye(3x)And there we were(Opened my eye(3x))

So good to see you once again
I thought that you were hiding from me.
You that that I had run away
Chasing a trail of smoke and reason.

Prying open my third eye(10x)

[Verse 1]
I once knew a nigga whose real name was William
his primary concern, was making a million
being the illest hustler, that the world ever seen
he used to fuck moviestars and sniff coke in his dreams
a corrupted young mind, at the age of thirteen
nigga never had a father and his mom was a feen
she put the pipe down, but forever yeah she was sober
her sons heart simultaneously grew colder
he started hanging out selling bags in the projects
checking the young chicks, looking for hit and run prospects
he was fascinated by material objects
but he understood money never bought respect
he build a reputation cause he could hustle and steal
but got locked once it didn't hesitate to squeal
so criminals he chilled with didn't think he was real
you see me and niggaz like this have never been equal
I dont project my insurecurity's at other people
he feeded for props like addicts with pipes and needles
so he felt he had to prove to everyone he was evil
a fever minded young man with infinite potetial
the product of a ghetto breed capatalistic mental
coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed
dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes would bleed
but he was sick of selling trees and gave in to his greed

[Hook]
Everyone trying to be trife never face the consequences
you propably only did a month for minor offences
ask a nigga doing life if he had another chance
but then again there's always the wicked at new and advanced
dance forever with the devil on a code cell block
but thats what happens when you rape, murder and sell rock
devils used to be gods, angels that fell from the top
there's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot

[Verse 2]
So Billy started robbing niggaz, anything he could do
he'd get his respect back, in the eyes of his crew
starting fights over little shit, up on the block
stepped up to selling mothers and brothers the crack rock
working overtime for making money for the crack spot
hit the jackpot and wanted to move up to cocaine
for filling the scarface fantasy stuck in his brain
tired of the block niggaz treating him the same
he wanted to be major like the cut throats and the thugs
but when he tried to step to 'em, niggaz showed him no love
they told him any motherfucking coward can sell drugs
any bitch nigga with a gun, can bust slugs
any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood
even Puffy smoked the motherfucker up in a club
but only a real thug can stab someone till they die
standing in front of them, starring straight into their eyes
Billy realized that these men were well guarded
and they wanted to test him, before business started
suggested raping a bitch to prove he was cold hearted
so now he had a choice between going back to his life
or making money with made men, up in the cife
his dreams about cars and ice, made him agree
a hardcore nigga is all he ever wanted to be
and so he met them friday night at a quarter to three

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
They drove around the projects slow while it was raining
smoking blunts, drinking and joking for entertainment
untill they saw a woman on the street walking alone
three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home
and so they quietly got out the car and followed her
walking through the projects, the darkness swallowed her
they wrapped her shirt around her head and knocked her onto the floor
this is it kid now you got your chance to be raw
so Billy oaked her up and grapped the chick by the hair
and dragged her into a lobby that had nobody there
she struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs
they got to the roof and then held her down on the ground
screaming shut the fuck up and stop moving around
the shirt covered her face, but she screamed the clouts
so Billy stomped on the bitch, until he broken her jaw
the dirty bastards knew exactly what they were doing
they kicked her until they cracked her ribs and she stopped moving
blood leaking through the cloth, she cried silently
and then they all proceeded to rape her violently
Billy was meant to go first, but each of them took a turn
ripping her up, and choking her until her throat burned
a broken jaw mumbled for god but they weren't concerned
when they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and broos
one of them niggaz pulled out a brand new twenty-two
they told him that she was a witness of what she'd gone through
and if he killed her he was guaranteed a spot in the crew
he thought about it for a minute, she was practicly dead
and so he leaned over and put the gun right to her head

(Sample from "Survival of the Fittest" by Mobb Deep)
I'm falling and I can't turn back
I'm falling and I can't turn back

[Verse 4]
Right before he pulled the trigger, and ended her life
he thought about the cold pain with the platinum and ice
and he felt strong standing along with his new brothers
cocked the gat to her head, and pulled back the shirt cover
but what he saw made him start the cringine studder
cuz he was starring into the eyes of his own mother
she looked back at him and cried, cause he had forsaken her
she cried more painfully, than when they were raping her
his whole world stopped, he couldn't even contiplate
his corruption had succesfully changed his fate
and he remembered how his mom used to come home late
working hard for nothing, cause now what was he worth
he turned away from the woman that had once given him birth
and crying out to the sky cause he was lonely and scared
but only the devil responded, cause god wasn't there
and right then he knew what it was to be empty and cold
and so he jumped off the roof and died with no soul
they say death take you to a better place but I doubt it
after that they killed his mother, and never spoke about it
and listen cause the story that I'm telling is true
cuz I was there with Billy Jacobs and I raped his mom to
and now the devil follows me everywhere that I go
infact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows
and every street cypher listening to little thugs flowe
he could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn't know
the devil grows inside the hearts of the selvish and wicked
white, brown, yellow and black colored is not restricted
you have a self destructive destiny when your inflicted
and you'll be one of gods children and fell from the top
there's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot
so when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never
because the dance with the devil might last you forever

its dancin with the devil by immortal technique, its kinda fucked up but u wanted thought-ful and a story

Escape Artist
by Sage Francis
album:Healthy Distrust


(When I first got in to magic, yeah.)

When I first got into magic, it was an underground phenomenon
Now everybody's like pick a card, any card
If I shot my full load with the first hand I played
I'd be a monkey in a box hangin' with the David Blaines
I be swimmin' with the sharks, mouths full of razor blades
But I'm not, I got out of that game

Escape Artist

I talk 'til I'm red in my face with strain polyps
I'll rock 'til I'm out of my range then raise octaves
I play through the pain and remain conscience
Refraining from commenting on the lame compliments
And the petty criticisms from those who ain't accomplished
Even one fifths of some of this shit I made progress with
I'm leaving naysayers stumped like rain forests
After years of pullin' rabit ears out my pants pockets
I'm not revealin' any tricks of the trade
It's just there ain't no magic in the breakdown baby

In an effort to make 'em all see what I found in my life I decided to give 'em a look
None of 'em giving a glimpse trying to guess that I'm sitting in the middle of an unread book
Letters are falling apart
But the sentence descend on the word and the wording is permanent
Never been missed
If you were missed
What did you miss
Interpreted is
Falling and serving a sentence of solitary confinement
Result in the death sentence just filling my running assignment
I'm just wondering where my time went, it pulled a disappearing act
And every single assistant I ever had got sawed in half

You See I never payed attention
But I can't afford to laugh
'cause I'm lookin' for my break in an autograph for my CAST
but I'm short on staff so all I ask is volunteers in the crowd
show a little bit of audience participation now

When I say hip (what do I say?)
You, you say shut the fuck up we ain't sayin shit!!!
And I'll respect it
Check it,
In a flair for the dramatic exit
A fashionable entrance
Late to my own arraignment (Oh!)
The self-destructive things that I do for entertainment
My folks gave me this already broken heart as my pallet
While I was out honing my craft you was disowning your talent
That's why you still live at home
And I bought this house off my parents
I'm getting ahead of myself
(gettin ahead of myself)
I see the hair on my back
(see the hair on my back)
I'm on the road reading Kerouac
It's poems versus better raps
I think to myself
What's worth remembering
Versus defending the size of my manhood or confessional canned goods

In an effort to make 'em all see what I found in my life I decided to give 'em a look
None of 'em giving a glimpse trying to guess that I'm sitting in the middle of an unread book
Letters are falling apart
But the sentence descend on the wording and the wording is permanent
Never been missed
If you were missed
What did you miss
Interpreted is
Falling and serving a sentence of solitary confinement
Result in the death sentence just filling my running assignment
But none of this is getting told in confidence
I recognize the confidential records just to hold the listeners attention

I'm a veteran of spacial relationships
I clip ya wings to fit you in head shrinking magician
Shape-shifting reptilian turned body contortionist
Orphanages started offering torches to abortion clinics
I lost acquaintances
And a morgue of lady friends
I gender bent the heaven sent angelic devil boy with God's androgynous
I'm lookin' marvelous but looks can kill
YOU'RE unsure about my sexual orientations still
Put me in a special kind of case that only breaks if
You hit it with a bouquet of flowers and baby breath arrangement
The vault is vacant
They're all looking for fault or blame
I called my agent
The moment that I caught the train
I let him know, I'm going nowhere, he's invited
If he leaves tonight then he just might help me find it
But this is my burden to bare, not his
And I'm a psychic without a sidekick
Holding the future hostage
A loose cannon standing on the roof top with
A new respect and understanding of bartenders and locksmiths
They call me daredevil but I'm not precise enough
Unprofessional on an amateur level, I love my life too much

Escape Artist (x 5)

I'm in two places at once

Escape Artist

I ain't slept in months

Escape Artist

I'm just trying to get away
Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby

[Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby
No magic in the break
Ain't no magic in the breakdown ba-by

Escape Artist]

[continues in background]

Sage Francis:

(Pussies, you're scared to shoot me in the heart!
You know it's too big, uhh!
Fuck, I gotta bulletproof heart, hit me baby.
I'll never fall in love with you, ever!
If you got (heart?) so I do! Bitch!)

Slug:

Make some noise for Sage Francis ya'll!

People talking)
I'm tired of hearing of young fellows, who think you know it
all.
You know nothing, you have not seen a shot fired,
and you're waving the damn flag.

Frank, what's that man?

I'm just watching some bullshit.
On the news. It's f**king bullshit.
Reporters trying to win a f**king emmy.

Makeshift patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself at half mast.
(3x)

It's the makeshift,
The patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself for your live telecast.

Coming live from my own theater room,
Beautiful weather offered a nice shine,
Which is suitable for a full view of an altered skyline.
It's times like these I freestyle biased opinions every other
sentence.
My journalist ethic slips when I pass some offensive gestures.
Don't give me that ethical shit.
I've got exclusive, explicit images to present to impressionable
american kids,
and it's time to show this world how big our edifice is.
That's exsactly how they attacked,
with a typically dark-skinned disney villain.
Use civillians against civillians and charge the trojan horse
into our buildings.
Using commercial aviation as instruments of destruction.
Pregnant women could have protected their children;
wheelchairs were stairway obstructions.
I had to back-pedal from the shower of glass and metal,
wondering if after it settles,
we'll find who provided power to radical rebels.
The melting pot seems to be calling the kettle black when it
boils over,
but only on our own soil,
so the little boy holds a toy soldier,
and waits for the suit and tie to come home.
We're going to wait until he's older, though,
before we destroy hopes for a colder war to end.
I'll get a close-up of his head.

Makeshift patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself at half mast.
(3x)

It's the makeshift,
The patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself while the stock markets crash.

The city is covered in inches of mud.
I see some other pictures of victims erupt.
Grieving mothers are thinking their children are stuck,
leaping lovers are making descisions to jump while holding
hands,
to escape the brutal heat;
sometimes in groups of three.
The fallout was far beyond the toxic clouds where people would
like to breath,
but all they say when all was said,
beyond the talking heads,
was the bloody dust with legs,
looking like the walking dead calling for meds.
All the hospitals overwhelmed,
volluntiers need to go the hell home.
Moments of silence for firefighters were interupted by cell
phones.
Who's going to make that call, to increas an unknown death
toll?
Someone we rally behind.
He's got a megaphone, promising to make heads roll.
We'd cheer him on, but asbestos is affecting our breath
control.
The less we know, the more they fabricate,
the easier it is to sell a soul.

(Man talking)
There is a new price on freedom, so buy into it while supplies
last.
Changes need to be made;
no more curbside baggage,
seven pm curfew,
racial profiling will continue with less bitching.
We've unified over who to kill, so until I find more relevant
scripture to quote,
remember, our kind is bigger, stronger, smarter, and much
wealthier.
So wave those flags with pride, especially the white part.

We're selling addictive, twenty-four hour candlelight vigils on
TV.
Freedom will be defended at the cost of civil liberties.
The viewers are glued to television screens, stuck,
'cause lots of things seem too sick.
I use opportunities to pluck heartstrings for theme music.
I'll show you which culture to pump your fist at,
which foot is right to kiss.
We don't really know who the culprit is yet,
but he looks like this.
We know who the heroes are,
they're not the xenophobes who act hard.
We taught the dog to squat,
how dare he do that shit in our own back yard.
They happen to scar our financial state,
and char our landscape.
Can you count how many times so far I ran back the same damn
tape?
While the cameraman creates news and shoves it down our throats,

on the west bank, with the ten second clip put on constant loop
to provoke US angst.
So get your tanks and load your guns and hold your suns in a
family huddle,
'cause even if we win this tug of war and even the score,
humanity struggles.
There's a need of blood for what's been uncovered under the
rubble;
some of them dug for answers in the mess,
but the rest were looking for trouble.

Makeshift patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself at half mast.
(3x)

It's the makeshift,
The patriot,
the flag shop is out of stock,
I hang myself.
Don't waive your rights with your flags.

(Two people talking)
Seriously, if I want to find out anything, I'm not going to read
Time Magazine,
I'm not going to read Newsweek, I'm not going to read any of
these magazines.
I mean, because they've just got too much to lose by printing
the truth,
you know that.

What kinds of truths are they omitting?

Well, anything.
Even on a worldwide basis.
They'd just go off the stands in a day if they printed really
the truth.

What is really the truth?

Well, really the truth is just a plain picture.

pretty much all sage francis and saul williams

you should have done what I did and read to make sure it wasnt already posted first.

^yeah i just did, sorry about that

I love you. You should have commentend on my song choice though, seen as you at least know 70's prog rock exists. But here's a deeper one. Can't you smell Roger Water's angst in these words? Deep.

PINK FLOYD- Pigs (three different ones)

Big man, pig man, ha ha, charade you are
You well heeled big wheel, ha ha, charade you are
And when your hand is on your heart
You’re nearly a good laugh
Almost a joker
With your head down in the pig bin
Saying ’keep on digging’
Pig stain on your fat chin
What do you hope to find?
When you’re down in the pig mine
You’re nearly a laugh
You’re nearly a laugh
But you’re really a cry.

Bus stop rat bag, ha ha, charade you are
You fucked up old hag, ha ha, charade you are
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass
You’re nearly a good laugh
Almost worth a quick grin
You like the feel of steel
You’re hot stuff with a hat pin
And good fun with a hand gun
You’re nearly a laugh
You’re nearly a laugh
But you’re really a cry.

Hey you whitehouse, ha ha, charade you are
You house proud town mouse, ha ha, charade you are
You’re trying to keep your feelings off the street
You’re nearly a real treat
All tight lips and cold feet
And do you feel abused?

...!...!...!

You gotta stem the evil tide
And keep it all on the inside
Mary you’re nearly a treat
Mary you’re nearly a treat
But you’re really a cry.

***

Ok, I'm most definitely adding "Ha ha, charade you are" to my sig.

You're right, Genesis is sick. As is Pink Floyd and that song you just posted. I really think I should have been born in the early 60s so I would have been a teenager in the 70s. Almost all the music I listen to is from then anyways.

listen to THE DECLINE by NOFX it's 18 minutes worth of musical genuisness