Lyrics too good to be by Bob

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Sat May 12, 2012 10:53 am

Marina Cvetaeva, Мне нравится
-- tradotta da Monica Puleo

Son lieta che Voi di me non siate malato
e lieta di non esser io malata di Voi,

che la pesante terra nostra mai 

svanirà sotto di noi. 


Son lieta che tutto possa essere svagato,

senza regole, che non si giochi col prima e col poi,

che non s'avvampi in un'onda senza fiato 

al tocco lieve di uno di noi. 


Son lieta poi che Voi, con me presente,

possiate prender tra le braccia un'altra, 

e che non mi auguriate il fuoco eterno 

se non è Voi ch'io bacio. 


Che il tenero mio nome, mio caro, non 

nominiate giorno e notte invano...

che nel silenzio di una chiesa mai 

per noi canteranno lodi a Dio. 


Io Vi ringrazio col cuore e con le mani 

per i modi del Vostro amore ignaro; per le mie notti quiete,

per gl'incontri rari all'ora del tramonto,

per la luna che mai ci vide andare,

per il sole che non ci avvolge il capo,

perché non siete -- ahimé -- di me malato 

ed io malata -- ahimé -- non son di Voi.



3 maggio 1915

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Sat May 12, 2012 11:07 am

First Delphic Hymn to Apollo
by Limenios, son of Thoinos the Athenian

Hear me, you who posses deep-wooded Helicon,

fair-armed daughters of Zeus the magnificent!

Fly to beguile with your accents your brother,

golden-tressed Phoebus who, on the twin peak of this rock of Parnassus,

escorted by illustrius maidens of Delphi,

sets out for the limpid strams of Castalia, traversing,

on the Delphic promontory, the prophetic pinnacle.

Behold glorious Attica, nation of the great city which,

thanks to the prayers of the Tritonid warrior,

occupies a hillside sheltered from all harm.

On the holy alters Hephaestos cosumes the thighs of young bullocks,

mingled with the flames, the Arabian vapor rises towards Olympos.

The shrill rustling lotus murmurs its swelling song, and the golden kithara,

the sweet-sounding kithara, answers the voice of men.

And all the host of poets, dwellers in Attica, sing your glory, God,

famed for playing the kithara, son of great Zeus,

beside this snow-crowned peak, oh you who reveal to all mortals

the eternal and infallible oracles.

They sing how you conquered the prophetic tripod

guarded by a fierce dragon when, with your darts

you pierced the gaudy, tortuously coiling monster,

so that, uttering many fearful hisses, the beast expired.

They sing too, . . . ."

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Thu May 17, 2012 2:00 am

Јесење лишће
--by Paolo Nutini

Јесење лишће под смрзнутим душама,
Руке које жељно ишчекују постају меке и старе,
Мој драги је плакао док смо стајали на хладноћи
И попут овог јесењег лишћа, немам никога да загрлим.

Диван осмех, у модерним ципелама,
Премлад да каже, иако могу да се закунем да зна,
И чујем га како пева, док седи у столици,
Док ово јесење лишће лети свуда около.

А ја гледам и видим себе,
Несташно узвикујући,
Али сада је тихо и чујем те како певаш:
'Маче моје, не плачи, маче моје, не плачи'.

Јесење лишће је сада избледело,
Осмех који сам изгубила сам успела да пронађем,
Јер још увек живиш у очима мога оца,
То јесење лишће, све то јесење лишће,
све то јесење лишће,
припада само теби вечерас.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Tue May 29, 2012 5:24 am

Minnesota Gurls

"I know a place, with summer, winter, spring and autumn. 

Ten thousand lakes, finding a beach is not a problem.

Chewing lutefisk, lying underneath the pine trees.

Lumberjacks, bust their axe, trying to creep a little sneak peek (at us)


You can travel the world, but nothing comes close to a Grain Belt toast. 

Once you angle with us, you'll be falling in love."

Chorus:
"Minnesota gurls we're unforgettable, waterproof boots with flannel on top.
Wind chaffed skin will turn your legs to popsicles,
ooooo ... oooo

Minnesota gurls, our spam is fryable, farm fresh fun, we're working every block.
Midwest represent now zip your jackets up."
ooooooo ... oooo



"Stars in the sky, instead of only on the sidewalks.

We jam, in our van. Prince is on the stereo.



Spray on tan, now we ready. 

Need a shovel this snow is heavy.

Uf dah, the big midwest. 

These are the girls I love the best.

I met her at Lake Wobegon.

34 degrees, but no coat was on.

She's a hometown girl.
We went to Valleyfair,
did the Tilt-a-Wirl.
On to Mall of America,
California dude would you please stop starin brah?

Or keep on staring on to Target Field.

Ask Joe Mauer, these 'burns are real.

Outside ball, we're hangin' out, 

We'll play through hail without a doubt.

You've got the Lakers, we've got the Wolves.

That comparison was terrible.

I regret that line, I'll take it back.

I'm Paul Bunyan, check out my axe.

I'm a real man's man, I just wanna show ya,
cuz your representing Minnesnowta."

"Minnesota gurls we're unforgettable, waterproof boots with flannel on top.
Wind chaffed skin will turn your legs to popsicles,
ooooo ... oooo

Minnesota gurls, our spam is fryable, farm fresh fun, we're working every block.
Midwest represent now zip your jackets up.
ooooooo ... oooo"



Preemptive response to Minnesota-Gurl haters:


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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Wed Jun 06, 2012 12:01 pm

"I am the genie of sound. Everybody get down. Abracadabra. Get on your camel and ride."

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Wed Jun 06, 2012 12:01 pm

"Just turn me loose, let me straddle my old saddle underneath the western skies. On my cayuse* let me wander over yonder 'til I see the mountains rise."







Cayuse is an archaic term used in the American West, usually referring to a feral or low-quality horse or pony.
In British Columbia, the variant word cayoosh refers to a particular breed of mountain pony with shorter legs and large hindquarters, typically also of Indian husbandry.

The origin of the word is a Native American adaptation of the Spanish caballo, with the -s ending a noun form in Salishan languages. A variant adaptation, kiuatan, with a Sahaptian -tan ending, is the main word for "horse" or "pony" in the Chinook Jargon, although cayuse or cayoosh was also used in some areas. For this reason, some horses owned by Native American people were dubbed "cayuse," often with derogatory intent.

Two cayuses that made history were Nimpo and Stuyve who were depicted in Richmond P. Hobson, Jr.'s book Grass Beyond The Mountains. Both horses had been captured by a local Native American named Thomas Squinas near Nimpo Lake in the Chilcotin District of British Columbia. Hobson described the two cayuses as the best horses that he owned, because of their unrelenting spirit and hardiness that helped them survive the extreme conditions in northern British Columbia.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Wed Jun 06, 2012 4:10 pm

僕は音楽家
電卓片手に
足したり
引いたり
操作して
作曲する
このボタン押せば
音楽奏でる
Cool
Bokuwa ongakuka
Dentaku katateni
Tashitari
Hiitari
Sousashite
Sakkyoku suru
Kono botan oseba
Ongaku kanaderu



Cool

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Fri Jun 29, 2012 3:55 pm

We are clean
Don't ask, I'm an agent

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Sun Jul 01, 2012 2:00 pm

Can Bob make grown men cry in 3:50? I don't think so. bounce

At 2:50 she yells--"That ain't the end yet, you nitwits."

and then: "I just need to FOCUS for the last part:"


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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Sun Jul 01, 2012 2:47 pm

I realised my fists were clenched,
I stretched my fingers to relax.
Still not sleeping, I tried counting sheep.
One by one,
They leapt across the fence
Constructed for them.
Right to left,
Across the fence I had constructed.
Having jumped,
They refused further direction.


Each sheep where it landed,
Refusing to exit remained...

Creating a vast writhing heap
Growing fast on the left.

Try as I might,
I could not stop them entering
Once again.
Try as they might,
Not one could leave the stage.

No longer daring to close my eyes,
Still not sleeping.

I realised my goose was cooked,
I wandered shipshape on the shore.






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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Sun Jul 01, 2012 4:10 pm

Dumb head (dumb head)
I'm a stupid little girl
Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Do do do do...

I had him where I wanted him
He was saying he'd be mine
And none could take my place
And I laughed in his face

Well, I made some goofs
But this one tops them all
So I think I'll go bang
My head against the wall

Cause I'm a dumb head (dumb head)
I'm a stupid little girl
Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Do do do do...

I had him where I wanted him
He was giving me his heart
And begging me to stay
And I just walked away

Well, gee, now I'm convinced
That I must be insane
Or else I was born with
A peanut for a brain

Cause I'm a dumb head (dumb head)
I'm a stupid little girl
Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Do do do do...

I couldn't see the
Forest through the trees
The boy I loved was
Down on his knees
And I played the game
And acted like a tease
Somebody kick me, please

Cause I'm a dumb head (dumb head)
I'm a stupid little girl
Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Do do do do...

Now I'm convinced
That I must be insane
Or else I was born with
A peanut for a brain

Cause I'm a dumb head (dumb head)
I'm a stupid little girl
Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Goofy little girl

Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Silly little girl
Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Stupid little girl

Just a dumb head (dumb head)
Stupid little girl...

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Tue Jul 03, 2012 8:22 pm

Hmm, my compliments from me to you
On this your most intriguing hat.
Consider though this substitute:
A bat in place of this old rat.

Huh! No, no, no, now that's all wrong.
This thing will never make a present.
It's been dead for much too long.
Try something fresher, something pleasant.

Try again, don't give up.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Sun Sep 23, 2012 10:59 am

Well, I call you up on the phone ...
nobody's at home.
Then I do my usual thing ...
I let the telephone ring and ring and ring.
I'm standing at a phone booth,
coping with the ugly truth.

You see, I know where you are...
I know where you are,
You're down drinking at the bar.

I can picture you there on that stool,
drinking like a drunken fool.
Yeah, you're sitting there on your ass,
muttering into your glass.
Paying for your lowlife thrills
with wet quarters and soggy one dollar bills. Rolling Eyes

I know where you are,
baby.
You're down drinking at the bar.

Dean Martin's on the jukebox, I bet.
Or maybe it's Tammy Wynette.
The tearjerkers are jerking your tears,
Salt water in your whiskey and your beers.
You've got the Miller High Life bouncing balls,
You've got the Utica Club waterfalls.

I know where you are, oh ho.
You're down at the bar.
You're down at the bar.

Go ahead get drunk, it's alright.
Lost weekend on a Tuesday night.
But I'm going to have to give you the score ...
I'm not going to call you up on the telephone no more.
I'm sick and tired of listening to that phone ring 15 times,
I'm sick and tired of getting back my dimes!

Because I know what you are,
You're at sot, that's what you are. bounce
I know what you are,
You're a lush, Mad
You got a big red nose!

I know where you are, baby.
I know where you are...
You're down drinking at the bar.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Thu Oct 04, 2012 8:54 am

I met my brother the other day
And gave him my right hand
As soon as ever my back was turned
He scandalized my name

Now do you call that a brother? (No No!)
You call that a brother? (No No!)
You call that a brother (No No!)
Scandalize my name Mad

I met my sister the other day
And gave her my right hand
As soon as ever my back was turned
She too scandalized my name

Now do you call that a sister? (No No!)
You call that a sister? (No No!)
You call that a sister? (No No!)
Scandalize my name

I met my preacher the other day
And gave him my right hand
As soon as ever my back was turned
He too scandalized my name Shocked

Now do you call that religion? (No No!) No
You call that religion? (No No!)
You call that religion? (No No!)
Scandalize my name.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Sat Oct 13, 2012 8:37 am

To Robert E. Lee I'll show it
(I hope and pray he don't blow it)



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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Sat Oct 13, 2012 8:38 am

Education is an important key
But the good life's never won by degrees

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Sat Oct 13, 2012 8:44 am

Inside every teenage girl there's a fountain
Inside every young pair of pants there's a mountain
I make it a thing, when I'm on my own to relieve myself
Well, I ain't gonna suck no radar wing
Because inside this tin is tin
Would you like to techno-plate cause I'm your candidate
Oh yeah
You don't have to scream a lot to predict monsoon

I'll make you a deal
I'll say I came from Earth and my tongue is taped
Let's pretend we're walking home
uh-huh, uh-huh
I'm the candidate
Vote now for the candidate
Yeah

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Sat Oct 13, 2012 8:53 am

Cornbread
cornbread red
All that cornbread goin' to your head

If there's one thing I want you to do
One thing I ask of you
Take tomorrow and start anew

You can thank me or tell me true
'Cause I can see you ain't got a clue
Know how much it means to you

Cornbread
cornbread red
All that cornbread goin' to your head

Red is red and blue is blue
Collard greens are vegetables, too
I don't ask that much of you

Pretty miss Polly gon ask you out
Left runnin' with a foot in yer mouth
All that cornbread'll help you out

Papa went fishin' said come along son
Have to wait 'til the cornbread's done
Ya want ketchup ya better run






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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Mon Oct 22, 2012 9:50 am

"We used to say we could eat a horse, and we could and we did.

In a fast food joint in the middle of someplace on the way to someplace else.

Now we say we could eat a horse, but it's not true.

We couldn't eat a horse now, no, because we don't want to.

We want something from the cookbook, that new one with the great graphics....
Hey-ey, hey-ey, hey now who would'a thunk it...."

-- Greg Brown

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Tue Oct 23, 2012 10:46 am

Kazakhstan greatest country in the world.
All other countries are run by little girls.
Kazakhstan number one exporter of potassium.
Other countries have inferior potassium.

Kazakhstan home of Tinshein swimming pool.
It's length thirty meter and width six meter.
Filtration system a marvel to behold.
It remove 80 percent of human solid waste.

Kazakhstan, Kazakhstan you very nice place.
From Plains of Tarashek to Norther fence of Jewtown.
Kazakhstan friend of all except Uzbekistan.
They very nosey people with bone in their brain.

Kazakhstan industry best in the world.
We incented toffee and trouser belt.
Kazakhstan's prostitutes cleanest in the region.
Except of course Turkmenistan's

Kazakhstan, Kazakhstan you very nice place.
From Plains of Tarashek to Norther fence of Jewtown.
Come grasp the mighty p e n i s of our leader.
From junction with the t e s t e s to tip of its face!

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Wed Oct 31, 2012 2:16 pm

Orange Claw Hammer
-- Captain Beefheart

a thick cloud caught a piper cub's tail
the match struck blue on a railroad rail
the old puff horse was just pulling through
and a man wore a peg leg forever

i'm on the bum where the hoboes run
the air breaks with filthy chatter
oh i don't care there's no place there
i don't think it matters

my skin is blazing through
and my clothes in tatters
and the railroad looks
like a 'y' up the hill of ladders

one shoe fell on the gravel
one stick poked down
gray of age fell down on a pair of ears
an eagle shined through my hole watch pocket
a gingham girl baby girl
passed me by in tears
a jack rabbit raised his folded ears
a beautiful sagebrush jack rabbit
and an oriole sang like an orange
his breast full of worms
and his tail clawed the evening like a hammer
his wings took to air like a bomber
and my rain can caught me a cup of water
when i got into town
odd jobs mam and your horse i'll fodder
i'm the roundhouse man
i once was your father

a little up the road a wooden candy stripe barber pole
and above it read a sign: 'painless parker'
licorice twisted around under a fly
and a youngster cocked her eye
god, before me - if i'm not crazy - is my daughter
come little one with your little old dimpled fingers
gimme one and i'll buy you a cherry phosphate
take you down to the foaming brine and water
and show you the wooden tits
on the goddess with the pole out full sail
that tempted away your peg legged father

i was shanghaied by a high hat beaver mustache man
and his pirate friend
i woke up in vomit and beer in a banana bin
and a soft lass with brown skin
bore me seven babies with snapping black eyes
and beautiful ebony skin

and here it is i'm with you my daughter
thirty years away can make a seaman's eyes
a roundhouse man's eyes flow out water
salt water

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  Yakima Canutt on Fri Nov 02, 2012 12:30 pm

I'm a dance dance dance dance dancing machine.
Watch me get down. Watch me get down.
And I do my thing on the video screen.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Fri Nov 02, 2012 12:50 pm

Oppan gang-namseutayil

Kang-namseutayil

Areumdawo sarangseureowo

Keurae neo hey keurae baro neo hey

Chigeumbu-teo kal dekkaji kabol-kka

Oppan gang-namseutayil
Kang-namseutayil
Oppan gang-namseutayil

Eh- sexy lady

Oppan gang-namseutayil
Eh- sexy lady

O-oo-o

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Mon Nov 05, 2012 12:48 pm

He was born in Oklahoma,
His wife's name's Betty Lou Thelma Liz
And he's not responsible for what he's doing
Cause his mother made him what he is.

And it's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.
He's thirty-four and drinking in a honky tonk.
Just kicking hippies asses and raising hell.

Sure does like his Falstaff beer,
Likes to chase it down with that Wild Turkey liquor;
Drives a fifty-seven GMC pickup truck;
He's got a gun rack; "Goat ropers need love, too" sticker

And it's up against the wall Redneck Mother,
Mother, who has raised her son so well.

-- Jerry Jeff Walker

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

Post  pinhedz on Mon Nov 12, 2012 12:49 pm

Tydi, a roddaist liw i'r wawr
-- T. Rowland Hughes (1903-1949)

Tydi, a roddaist liw i'r wawr
A hud i'r machlud mwyn
Tydi , a luniast gerdd a sawr
Y gwanwyn yn y llwyn
O, cadw ni rhag collir hud
Sydd heddiw'n crwydro drwy'r holl fyd.

Tydi, a lunaist gan i'r nant
A'i su i'r goedwig werdd,
Tydi, a roist i'r awel dant
Ac i'r eheddyd gerdd
O, cadw ni rhag dyfod dydd
Na yrr ein calon gan yn rhydd.

Tydi, a glywaist lithriad traed
Ar ffordd Calfaria gynt,
Tydi, a welaist ddafnnau gwaed
Y Gwr ar ddieithr hynt;
O, cadw ni rhag dyfod oes
Heb goron ddrain na chur na chroes.

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Re: Lyrics too good to be by Bob

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