While lookin' into my drawer only yesterday You know, the things that I saw made me cry I saw the pictures and letters, I should have known better Than to try to deny
I love them all, I love them all And if they came again I'd do the same again 'Cause I'm that kind of a guy
Looking down on empty streets, all she can see Are the dreams all made solid Are the dreams all made real All of the buildings, all of those cars Were once just a dream In somebody's head
dutchtexan, That is a perfect example of why words without music often seem less significant. When I read these words, I thought "So what", they didn't have much special meaning to me. When I realized they were from Mercy Street, I almost had to laugh, because I love that song; but the words without the music and expressive singing seem very ordinary.
Every day is the same thing out the door Feel further away than ever before Some things in life, it gets too late to learn Well, I’m lost somewhere I must have made a few bad turns
The yellow sun was setting in tombstone The citizen ......
By a freak a coin in the piano made it play But only the wind and the dust heard it say Do you believe in the Westworld? Do you believe in the Westworld?
From the south on a wind in walked a cowboy The saloon was dry but his guns were well oiled Somehow he remembered when he kissed his wife And when he said goodbye But that was before the circus with the bear arrived Oh the bear it roared as the gun was fired Then the cowboy turned the gun on himself as he sang "No-ones alive" Do you believe in the Westworld? Do you believe in the Westworld?
I wonder whether Kirk Brandon's newly arriving circus would feature a giant panda if written or sung today?
‘Only love, can make it rain, the way the beach is kissed by the sea.” Love Reign Over Me, The Who
’She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, And I knew without asking she was into the blues.’ and ’Well, I ain’t always right but I’ve never been wrong.’ Scarlet Begonias, Grateful Dead.
Momma loves her baby, and daddy loves you too. And the sea may look warm to you babe, and the sky may look blue. But if you should go walking on the thin ice of modern life, dragging behind you the silent reproach and a million tear stained eyes, don't be surprised when a crack in the ice appears under your feet. You slip out of your depth and out of your mind with your fear flowing out behind you as you claw the thin ice.
I’m gonna heat me some water Put a shine upon my shoes Telephone my ma, keep the room above Joe’s ’Cause we’re comin’ back, comin’ back to the homestead
Everythin’ is packed, gettin’ back to the homestead This time, this time we’ll stay, baby I know that we could have made it We had ideas in our heads And I wish somehow we could have saved it But we’re gasoline Alley Bred
Yet the years haven’t really been wasted And I know it in my head We did good for the life that we tasted ’Cause we’re gasoline Alley
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Of all the Hollies songs this is the one I like to keep on repeat in the car.
Back in my heady student days I remember asking my friend Calvin what he had playing in his headphones. This was something I'd never heard before and quite difficult to take in as 21 year old. But I never forgot it.
------
"The Revolution Will Not Be Televised"
You will not be able to stay home, brother You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and Skip out for beer during commercials Because the revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be televised The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox In 4 parts without commercial interruptions The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon Blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat Hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary
The revolution will not be televised The revolution will not be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie Wood and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal The revolution will not get rid of the nubs The revolution will not make you look five pounds thinner Because the revolution will not be televised, Brother
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May Pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run Or trying to slide that color TV into a stolen ambulance NBC will not be able to predict the winner at 8:32 On reports from 29 districts The revolution will not be televised
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down Brothers on the instant replay There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down Brothers on the instant replay There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being Run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy Wilkins strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and Green liberation jumpsuit that he has been saving For just the proper occasion
Green Acres, Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and Women will not care if Dick finally got down with Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people Will be in the street looking for a brighter day The revolution will not be televised
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock News and no pictures of hairy armed women Liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb or Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom Jones, Johnny Cash, Engelbert Humperdinck, or The Rare Earth The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be right back After a message about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people You will not have to worry about a dove in your Bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl The revolution will not go better with Coke The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath The revolution will put you in the driver's seat
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised Will not be televised, will not be televised The revolution will be no re-run brothers The revolution will be live
My favorite lyrics are: Cause the second you wake Too much pressure to take Every part of you wants to cry out
It's hard for girls like us We don't know who we trust Not even the ones we love Cause they don't know Try to numb this pain Cause we don't wanna get hurt again Left alone out in the rain They don't know dieren ringtones
@cd318 - I love "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" by Gil Scott Heron. Have you heard "The Revolution Will Be Televised" from Jeff Beck's 2016 album "Loud Hailer"?
Who are you to look down At what I believe? I'm on to your thinking And how you deceive Well, you can't abuse me I won't stand no more Yes, I know the reasons Yes, I know the score.
How I tried to please you Live the way you said Do the things that you do Like the living dead Then the truth it hit me Got me off my knees It's my life I'm living I'll live as I please
Now's the time to stand tall Start your life anew Freedom lies in your heart Now's the time for you
Master, master This is recorded through a fly's ear And you have to have a fly's eye to see it It's the thing that's gonna make Captain Beefheart And His Magic Band fat Frank, it's the big hit It's the blimp, It's the blimp, Frank! It's the blimp! When I see you floatin' down the gutter I'll give you a bottle of wine Put me on the white hook Back in the fat rack, Shadrach e-shack The sumptin' hoop, the sumptin' hoop The blimp, the blimp! The drazy hoops, the drazy hoops! They're camp, they're camp Tits, tits, the blimp, the blimp The mothership, the mothership The brothers hid under the hood From the blimp, the blimp Children, stop your nursing unless you're rendering fun The mothership, the mothership The mothership's the one The blimp, the blimp The tape's a trip, it's a trailin' tail It's traipse'n along behind The blimp, the blimp The nose has a crimp The nose is the blimp, the blimp It blows the air, the snoot isn't fair Look up in the sky -- there's a dirigible there The drazy hoops whir You can see them just as they were All the people stare And the girls' knees tremble And run and wave their hands And run their hands over The blimp the blimp "Daughter, don't you dare!" "Oh momma, who cares? It's the blimp, it's the blimp!"
In case of Sonic Attack on your district Follow these rules If you are making love, it is imperative to bring all bodies to orgasm simultaneously Do not waste time blocking your ears Do not waste time seeking a soundproof shelter Try to get as far away from the sonic source as possible Do not panic (Do not panic) Use your wheels, it is what they are for Small babies may be placed inside the special cocoons and should be left, if possible, in shelters Do not attempt to use your own limbs If no wheels are available metal, not organic, limbs should be employed whenever possible Remember, in the case of Sonic Attack, survival means every man for himself (Himself) Statistically more people survive if they think only of themselves (Only themselves) Do not attempt to rescue friends, relatives, loved ones You have only a few seconds to escape use those seconds sensibly or you will inevitably die Do not panic (Do not panic) Think only of yourself (Only yourself) Think only of yourself (Only yourself)
These are the first signs of Sonic Attack: You will notice small objects, such as ornaments, oscillating You will notice vibrations in your diaphragm You will hear a distant hissing in your ears You will feel dizzy You will feel the need to vomit There will be bleeding from orifices There will be an ache in the pelvic region You may be subject to fits of hysterical shouting Or even laughter These are all sign of imminent Sonic destruction Your only protection is flight If you are less than ten years old remain in the shelters and use your cocoon Remember: you can help no-one else (No-one else) You can help no-one else (No-one else) Do not panic (Do not panic) Do not panic (Do not panic) Think only of yourself (Only yourself) Think only of yourself (Only of yourself) Think only of yourself (Only yourself) Think only of yourself
So, you’ve been to school For a year or two And you know you’ve seen it all In daddy’s car Thinking you’ll go far Back east your type don’t crawl Playing ethnicky jazz To parade your snazz On your five-grand stereo Braggin’ that you know How the niggers feel cold And the slum’s got so much soul
It’s time to taste what you most fear Right Guard will not help you here Brace yourself, my dear Brace yourself, my dear It’s a holiday in Cambodia It’s tough, kid, but it’s life It’s a holiday in Cambodia Don’t forget to pack a wife
You’re a star-belly snitch You suck like a leech You want everyone to act like you Kiss ass while you bitch So you can get rich While your boss gets richer off you
Well, you’ll work harder With a gun in your back For a bowl of rice a day Slave for soldiers Till you starve Then your head is skewered on a stake
Now you can go where the people are one Now you can go where they get things done What you need, my son... What you need, my son...
Is a holiday in Cambodia Where people are dressed in black A holiday in Cambodia Where you’ll kiss ass or crack
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
It’s a holiday in Cambodia Where you’ll do what you’re told It’s a holiday in Cambodia Where the slums got so much soul Pol Pot -------
Somehow, even some 41 years later, this song never loses its power.
I first heard it via John Peel on BBC radio. Incredible how times have changed.
For decades I thought Jello was singing "Right, God will not help you here!"
The moon is a silver lady glowing through my life In a little space above the music I wish upon your face I wish upon my dreams In the middle of this crazy world bubbling with pretty pearls and spinning through the blue
This garden universe vibrates complete Some, we get a sound so sweet Vibrations reach on up to become light And then through gamma, out of sight Between the eyes and ears there lie The sounds of color and the light of a sigh And to hear the sun, what a thing to believe But it's all around if we could but perceive To know ultra-violet, infra-red, and x-rays Beauty to find in so may ways Two notes of the chord, that's our full scope But to reach the chord is our life's hope And to name the chord is important to some So they give it a word, and the word is OM
I’m zipping through the days At lightning speed Plug in, flush out And fire the f***in’ feed
Rocks Off Rolling Stones
Never realized the passing hours of evening showers Slip noose hanging in my darkest dreams I'm strangled by your haunted social scene Just a pawn outplayed by a dominating queen
Someone Saved My Life Tonight Bernie Taupin/Elton John
Johnathan Edwards, not a big fan of the song but I remember it from when I was a kid and it always been stuck in my head. Think the songs name is something line, Sunshine Go Away Today?
"you can't even run your own life I'll be damn if you will run mine."
In the Avenues and Alleyways While you sleep there's a whole world coming alive Abel and his brother, fighting one another In and out of every dive The avenues and alleyways Where the strong and the quick alone can survive ----
The avenues and alleyways Where the soul of a man is easy to buy Everybody's wheeling Everybody's dealing All the low are living high Every city's got em Can we ever stop em? Some of us are gonna try
If you should go skating on the thin ice of modern life, dragging behind you the silent reproach and a million tear stained eyes, don’t be surprised when a crack in the ice appears under your feet. You slip out of your depth and out of your mind with your fear flowing out behind you, as you claw the thin ice.
As if that’s not-good enough, this is being sung to a baby. The sea may look warm to you babe, and the sky may look blue. Oooh ooh oooh Baby Blue. Epic.
I'm probably repeating this Dylan line, but it's well worth repeating.
"That he not busy being born is busy dying."
I still remember how side 2 of Bringing it all Back Home blew my mind when I first heard it some 35 years ago, and it sometimes still does.
It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) Darkness at the break of noon Shadows even the silver spoon The handmade blade, the child's balloon Eclipses both the sun and moon To understand you know too soon There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn Suicide remarks are torn From the fool's gold mouthpiece The hollow horn plays wasted words Proves to warn That he not busy being born Is busy dying.
Temptation's page flies out the door You follow, find yourself at war Watch waterfalls of pity roar You feel to moan but unlike before You discover That you'd just be One more person crying.
So don't fear if you hear A foreign sound to your ear It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfall Private reasons great or small Can be seen in the eyes of those that call To make all that should be killed to crawl While others say don't hate nothing at all Except hatred.
Disillusioned words like bullets bark As human gods aim for their mark Made everything from toy guns that spark To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark It's easy to see without looking too far That not much Is really sacred.
While preachers preach of evil fates Teachers teach that knowledge waits Can lead to hundred-dollar plates Goodness hides behind its gates But even the president of the United States Sometimes must have To stand naked.
An' though the rules of the road have been lodged It's only people's games that you got to dodge And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you Into thinking you're the one That can do what's never been done That can win what's never been won Meantime life outside goes on All around you.
You lose yourself, you reappear You suddenly find you got nothing to fear Alone you stand with nobody near When a trembling distant voice, unclear Startles your sleeping ears to hear That somebody thinks They really found you.
A question in your nerves is lit Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy Insure you not to quit To keep it in your mind and not fergit That it is not he or she or them or it That you belong to.
Although the masters make the rules For the wise men and the fools I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.
For them that must obey authority That they do not respect in any degree Who despise their jobs, their destinies Speak jealously of them that are free Cultivate their flowers to be Nothing more than something They invest in.
While some on principles baptized To strict party platform ties Social clubs in drag disguise Outsiders they can freely criticize Tell nothing except who to idolize And then say God bless him.
While one who sings with his tongue on fire Gargles in the rat race choir Bent out of shape from society's pliers Cares not to come up any higher But rather get you down in the hole That he's in.
But I mean no harm nor put fault On anyone that lives in a vault But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.
Old lady judges watch people in pairs Limited in sex, they dare To push fake morals, insult and stare While money doesn't talk, it swears Obscenity, who really cares Propaganda, all is phony.
While them that defend what they cannot see With a killer's pride, security It blows the minds most bitterly For them that think death's honesty Won't fall upon them naturally Life sometimes Must get lonely.
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards False gods, I scuff At pettiness which plays so rough Walk upside-down inside handcuffs Kick my legs to crash it off Say okay, I have had enough What else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
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