CockneyWanchor
Well-Known Member
Now I do know that band - got everything they recorded. Without them, I'm nothing.
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Genius words/lyrics
- Thread starter CockneyWanchor
- Start date
Now I do know that band - got everything they recorded. Without them, I'm nothing.
Zubrman
Well-Known Member
'Making love to
The Mersey Tunnel
With a sausage
Have you ever been to Liverpool?'
The Stranglers
The Mersey Tunnel
With a sausage
Have you ever been to Liverpool?'
The Stranglers
denislawsbackheel
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- 28 May 2008
- Messages
- 25,281
- Team supported
- We went to Rotherham…
Not many people can quote from the Death of a Ladies’ Man album.The walls of this hotel are paper thin, last night I heard you making love to him.
Leonard Cohen
I read the news today oh boy, 4000 holes in Blackburn Lancashire.
John Lennon
Chapeau.
denislawsbackheel
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- 28 May 2008
- Messages
- 25,281
- Team supported
- We went to Rotherham…
Priceless, timeless genius.How about a bit of Bonzo Dog;
I am the Big Shot
You heard me right the first time. Name of batchelor Johnny Cool. Occupation: Big Shot. Occupation at the moment: just having fun. What a party that was - the drinks were loaded and so were the dolls
I narrowed my eyes and poured a stiff Manhattan. Then I saw... Hotsie. What a dame. A big, bountiful babe in the region of 48-23-38. One hell of a region. She had the hottest lips since Hiroshima: I had to stand back for fear of being burned. Whiskey wow wow. I breathed. She was dressed as before the bed. In that kind of outfit she could get rolled at night... and I don't mean on a crap table
It's kind of revealing, isn't it? Revealing? It's positively risqu - I like it. She said: "You're a man with a thousand Gs, right?"
[J:] "A thousand what?" I quipped. "G-men, girls, guns, guts."
[H:] "You're my type."
[J:] "Wrong, baby" I slapped her hard. "I'm a `L' man: strictly liquor, love and laughs."
She stared over my shoulder: "Play it cool, Johnny." Play it what? I flipped. "Listen, I fought my way up from tough East Side New York. Lead-filled saps and sub-machine guns, like this." [gunshots]
She said: "Johnny, this is a deadly game, have a few laughs and go home." I shuddered. Normally I pack a rod in pyjamas - I carry nothing but scars from Normandy beach. I said "Wrong, baby, you can't fool me." She spat playfully. "I'm ahead of you, Johnny." I studied the swell of her enormous boobs and said: "Baby, you're so far ahead it's beautiful."
[H:] "You, you are, you are eccentric, I like that."
[J:] "Electric cheri, bounce off my rocket[?], tout comprende?" We spoke French fluently. Our lips met again and again. "Yeah, yeah yeah" I slobbered. Hotsie said: "You're slobbering all over the seat, kid."
I went home late. Very late. What could I say to my wife?
”Darling, I’ve been beaten up again”......
I challenge anyone to beat that.
01cravend
Well-Known Member
He pulled the mirrors off his Cadillac,
'Cause he doesn't like it looking like he looks back
Tame Impala - Elephant
'Cause he doesn't like it looking like he looks back
Tame Impala - Elephant
Nascent Blues
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- 20 Sep 2009
- Messages
- 5,218
Bob Dylan - Who Killed Davey Moore?
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not I, " says the referee,
"Don't point your finger at me.
I could've stopped it in the eighth
An' maybe kept him from his fate,
But the crowd would've booed, I'm sure,
At not gettin' their money's worth.
It's too bad he had to go,
But there was a pressure on me too, you know.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not us, " says the angry crowd,
Whose screams filled the arena loud.
"It's too bad he died that night
But we just like to see a good ol' fashioned fight.
We didn't mean for him t' meet his death,
We just meant to see some sweat,
There ain't nothing wrong in that.
It wasn't us that made him fall.
No, you can't blame us at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says his manager,
Puffing on a big cigar.
"It's hard to say, it's hard to tell,
I always thought that he was well.
It's too bad for his wife an' kids he's dead,
But if he was sick, he should've said.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says the gambling man,
With his ticket stub still in his hand.
"It wasn't me that knocked him down,
My hands never touched him none.
I didn't commit no ugly sin,
Anyway, I put money on him to win.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says the boxing writer,
Pounding print on his old typewriter,
Sayin', "Boxing ain't to blame,
There's just as much danger in a football game."
Sayin', "Fist fighting is here to stay,
It's just the old American way.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says the man whose fists
Laid him low in a cloud of mist,
Who came here from Cuba's door
Where boxing ain't allowed no more.
"I hit him, yes, it's true,
But that's what I am paid to do.
Don't say 'murder, ' don't say 'kill.'
It was destiny, it was God's will."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not I, " says the referee,
"Don't point your finger at me.
I could've stopped it in the eighth
An' maybe kept him from his fate,
But the crowd would've booed, I'm sure,
At not gettin' their money's worth.
It's too bad he had to go,
But there was a pressure on me too, you know.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not us, " says the angry crowd,
Whose screams filled the arena loud.
"It's too bad he died that night
But we just like to see a good ol' fashioned fight.
We didn't mean for him t' meet his death,
We just meant to see some sweat,
There ain't nothing wrong in that.
It wasn't us that made him fall.
No, you can't blame us at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says his manager,
Puffing on a big cigar.
"It's hard to say, it's hard to tell,
I always thought that he was well.
It's too bad for his wife an' kids he's dead,
But if he was sick, he should've said.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says the gambling man,
With his ticket stub still in his hand.
"It wasn't me that knocked him down,
My hands never touched him none.
I didn't commit no ugly sin,
Anyway, I put money on him to win.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says the boxing writer,
Pounding print on his old typewriter,
Sayin', "Boxing ain't to blame,
There's just as much danger in a football game."
Sayin', "Fist fighting is here to stay,
It's just the old American way.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
"Not me, " says the man whose fists
Laid him low in a cloud of mist,
Who came here from Cuba's door
Where boxing ain't allowed no more.
"I hit him, yes, it's true,
But that's what I am paid to do.
Don't say 'murder, ' don't say 'kill.'
It was destiny, it was God's will."
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?
Tuearts right boot
Well-Known Member
She was good to those,
who took off all their clothes,
or played guitar
Steve Marriot, Small Faces.
who took off all their clothes,
or played guitar
Steve Marriot, Small Faces.
Out on blue 6
Well-Known Member
Got married at the altar
To the village idiots daughter
Oh lucky me!
Gruff Rhys Super Furry Animals
To the village idiots daughter
Oh lucky me!
Gruff Rhys Super Furry Animals
abu13
Well-Known Member
Anti Nowhere League - So What.
I've fucked a sheep
And i've fucked a goat
I've had my cock right down it's throat.
They don't write them like this anymore.
I've fucked a sheep
And i've fucked a goat
I've had my cock right down it's throat.
They don't write them like this anymore.
davyhulme blue
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- 13 Dec 2010
- Messages
- 805
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sings
Of the dreams that he brings
From the wide open sea
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sleeps
While the river bank weeps
To the old Willow tree
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who dies
Full of beer, full of cries
In a drunken town fight
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who's born
On a hot muggy morn
By the dawn's early light
In the port of Amsterdam
Where the sailors all meet
There's a sailor who eats
Only fish heads and tails
And he'll show you his teeth
That have rotted too soon
That can haul up the sails
That can swallow the moon
And he yells to the cook
With his arms open wide
"Hey, bring me more fish
Throw it down by my side"
And he wants so to belch
But he's too full to try
So he stands up and laughs
And he zips up his fly
In the port of Amsterdam
You can see sailors dance
Paunches bursting their pants
Grinding women to porch
They've forgotten the tune
That their whiskey voice croaked
Splitting the night
With the roar of their jokes
And they turn and they dance
And they laugh and they lust
Till the rancid sound of the accordion bursts
And then out of the night
With their pride in their pants
And the sluts that they tow
Underneath the street lamp
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who drinks
And he drinks and he drinks
And he drinks once again
He'll drink to the health
Of the whores of Amsterdam
Who've given their bodies
To a thousand other men
Yeah, they've bargained their virtue
Their goodness all gone
For a few dirty coins
When he just can't go on
Throws his nose to the sky
Aims it up above
And he pisses like I cry
On the unfaithful love
In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sings
Of the dreams that he brings
From the wide open sea
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sleeps
While the river bank weeps
To the old Willow tree
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who dies
Full of beer, full of cries
In a drunken town fight
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who's born
On a hot muggy morn
By the dawn's early light
In the port of Amsterdam
Where the sailors all meet
There's a sailor who eats
Only fish heads and tails
And he'll show you his teeth
That have rotted too soon
That can haul up the sails
That can swallow the moon
And he yells to the cook
With his arms open wide
"Hey, bring me more fish
Throw it down by my side"
And he wants so to belch
But he's too full to try
So he stands up and laughs
And he zips up his fly
In the port of Amsterdam
You can see sailors dance
Paunches bursting their pants
Grinding women to porch
They've forgotten the tune
That their whiskey voice croaked
Splitting the night
With the roar of their jokes
And they turn and they dance
And they laugh and they lust
Till the rancid sound of the accordion bursts
And then out of the night
With their pride in their pants
And the sluts that they tow
Underneath the street lamp
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who drinks
And he drinks and he drinks
And he drinks once again
He'll drink to the health
Of the whores of Amsterdam
Who've given their bodies
To a thousand other men
Yeah, they've bargained their virtue
Their goodness all gone
For a few dirty coins
When he just can't go on
Throws his nose to the sky
Aims it up above
And he pisses like I cry
On the unfaithful love
In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam