Mikseri.net

#682 kirjoitettu 19.03.2013 14:06

I'm a shaark
I'm a shaaark
Suck my diiiiiick

I am a shaaaark
I am a shark so you should just suck my diick
cos i'm a shaaaark
a shaaaark

I'M A SHAAAARK

#683 kirjoitettu 20.03.2013 12:25

se kuoppa oli syvä
sinne olisi mahtunut
kerrostaloja
nyt se on täytetty

kuoppa täynnä naisia ja lapsia
selkärangattomia miehiä
irvokkaissa asennoissa
toisiinsa maatuen

punnitse itsesi
tee valinta
laskeudutko
vai nousetko

löytäkää minut tästä
roikkumasta
en koskaan
laskeudu kuoppaan

en koskaan
laskeudu kuoppaan

#684 kirjoitettu 20.03.2013 13:14

Vessajono kirjoitti:
En kyllä muista. Toisaalta, on paljon asioita joita minä en muista.


Se saattoi olla myös P-K.

Art for arts sake
Money for Gods sake

#685 kirjoitettu 22.03.2013 13:24

Olen yksi tuomittu maailman ihmisistä, jota vihta ainoastaan pitää hengissä.
Me ollaan kaikki samalla matkalla, helvettiin pikajunalla.

Ja mä seison kadulla, yksin muiden joukossa.
Enkä tiedä missä olen huomenna.
Olenkolla muualla vai seisonko samassa paikassa.

#686 kirjoitettu 11.04.2013 18:23

Wise words from the departing
Eat your greens, especially broccoli
Remember to say "thank you" for the things you haven't had
By working the soil we cultivate the sky
We embrace vegetable kingdom
The death of your father, the death of your mother
Is something you prepare for
All your life
All their life

The death of the father and the death of the mother
Wear sensible shoes and always say "thank you"
Especially for the things you never had
Is something you prepare for
All your life
All of your life
And enter the vegetable kingdom of our own heaven
By working the soil we cultivate good manners
Is to say "please" and "thank you"
Especially for the things you never had
And always say "thank you"
Especially for broccoli

#687 kirjoitettu 13.04.2013 18:35

Tänne jäin, tänne jäin tuska mielessäin
Milloin menee junia kotiinpäin?
Nolla kaks kolkytkuus,
nyt soi Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Asema on, ja vähän vankilaa,
kristillinen opisto, josta tulvahtaa
synkkä jumalisuus
ja soi Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Nousin Mikkelissä junaan ja täällä pois
voi kun toiseen junaan jo päästä vois
Minun sielu huus ja alkoi Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Ei oo nakkikioskia, ei kahvilaa
ei ravintolaa, vain asemaa
Mikä toivottomuus
Näin soi Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Kun häipynyt on kaikki todellinen
niin helposti syntyy kuvitellen
toinen todellisuus:
Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Jospa kuvittelisin mä bassonsoittajan
niin bluesista saisin tanakamman.
Syntyis joustavuus
ja soisi Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Ja rumpalin tietysti funtsia voin
joka soittaa hikoilevin kainaloin
Näin kulkee svengi uus
kulkee Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Ja sitten täyteläisyyttä hiukkanen,
sitä antaa kaksitoistakielisen
syvä soinnukkuus,
ho-hoo, Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Banjonsoittaja popliinipukuinen
ja tunnelma 20-lukuinen
niin, ja autenttisuus,
ja yhä Pieksämäen asemalla blues.

Hetkinen! Sitten tarvitsen pianon,
sen kuvittelen: se tässä pian on
Siirrypä jammailuus
ja soita Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
No, nythän tämä kulkee lailla musiikin -
ihan niin kuin äsken halusin.
Oi, ihmisen voimakkuus
Näin kulkee Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Se kulkee kun uskon sen kulkevan,
vaikka vain päässä öisen vaeltajan.
Riittää tarmokkuus!
Riittää Pieksämäen asemalla blues!
Junan lähtöön vielä aikaa puoli tuntia on:
vielä suuremmaksi kuvittelen soitannon.
Päässä kierros uus,
ja jatkuu Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Panen Safkan jostain junasta laskeutumaan
laiturille haitari olallaan.
Hei Safka what's the news?
Soita Pieksämäen asemalla blues!
Hyvä näin, mutta lisää tahdon vieläkin.
Pistän kävelemään tuohon Mika Sundqvistin
vihelläs tahti taikka kuus
tää biisi on Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Hetkinen! Sitten aitoa tunnelmaa:
Pantse tulee ja soittaa sähkökitaraa.
Soita tuusannuus-
kaksi Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Nyt on koossa ihan oikea rock'n'roll band
Kellarista siihen mausteeksi Dixieland
Uusi maittavuus,
oh boy! Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Voi Luoja! Tästä kasvaakin kunnn show!
Vedän naamaan samaa meikkiä kuin Mike Monroe.
Jalkaan Blue Suede Shoes,
ja niin soi Pieksämäen asemalla blues.

Kun katson asemarakennuksen kattoa päin
jousisektion näin aivan äskettäin
Verdi, Brahms, Sibelius!
Pieksämäen asemalla blues!
On varmaan miljoona huonompaa
tapaa junaa kotiin odottaa
iankaikkisuus
kuin soittaa Pieksämäen asemalla blues!
Ho! Ho! Ho! Tämähän kulkee nyt!
Jos tämän kuulet niin takuulla yllätyt
Jukka Haurukin huus:
"Soita Pieksämäen asemalla blues!"
Näin se toimii, mutta miksi mietin vaan
miten Appo aikoo lyhentää velkojaan
Iskee toivottomuus,
ja soi Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Mun on äänikin kuin avaruusolennon
Voi kun olisikin kurkku Marstion
Kaikki sanois:"Avaa suus,
ja laula Pieksämäen asemalla blues!"
Marstio: In the east I see the morning flames
I'm sitting here with Mr. Peter James
drinking the booze
we sing the Pieksämäki Railway Station Blues.
Smoking and drinking, singing the song
Things are not right and they are not wrong,
they don't know what to choose,
I got the Pieksämäki Railway Station Blues.
Bluesit päälle käy! Voi tätä elämää...
Tulisipa jostakin Pellonpää
ja sen riehakkuus
häipyis Pieksämäen asemalta blues.
Kun on kitara tää ja sormet nää,
on jokseenkin mahdotonta kehittää
Daven taituruus
ja soittaa Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Taas kerran, kun homman saa toimimaan
siitä vähitellen ilman muuta kuihtuu vaan
tuore innokkuus,
se on Pieksämäen asemalla blues.
Niin sortuvat kuvitellut rakenteet:
on soittoniekat kotiin lähteneet,
Oon kuin turboton Roos-
berg! Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Se kesti hetken vain. Se meni johonkin vaan.
Aina lyövät korvalle toisiaan
todellisuus
ja Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Mihin kaikkeen ihminen pystyykään
Luo maailman ihan vain mielellään
Oi, mahtavuus!
Näin syntyi Pieksämäen asemalla blues
Onko kuvittelu totuutta oikeaa?
Onko totuus onttoa kuvitelmaa?
Liike vai staattisuus
vai Pieksämäen asemalla blues

#688 kirjoitettu 13.04.2013 21:52

..ripuloin verta tikkatauluun,
ja kutitan kiveksiäni variksensulalla

#689 kirjoitettu 16.04.2013 01:11 Muok:16.04.2013 01:12

Pohjois-Korea kirjoitti:
Kukaan ei enää halua olla sun kaa kun sul on H-I-V
Sua kutsuu enää Lepolan hautumaa kun sul on H-I-V
Jumalan kosto se on H-I-V
Ees jotain positiivist H-I-V
Ikuisen kadotuksen H-I-V
H-I-V

Sä kymmenen käskyä unohdit nyt sul on H-I-V
Ja vihreetä homoa äänestit nyt sul on H-I-V
Jumalan kosto se on H-I-V
Ees jotain positiivist H-I-V
Ikuisen kadotuksen H-I-V
H-I-V

Sä Lostarin vessassa narkkasit nyt sul on H-I-V
Ja neekerin kullia himoitsit nyt sul on H-I-V
Jumalan kosto se on H-I-V
Ees jotain positiivist H-I-V
Ikuisen kadotuksen H-I-V
H-I-V

Nyt sairaalassa kuihdut ja se on sun oma vika sul on H-I-V
Luontoäiti kostaa vitun nisti homo sika sul on H-I-V
Jumalan kosto se on H-I-V
Ees jotain positiivist H-I-V
Ikuisen kadotuksen H-I-V

Mikäs on kyseinen biisi?

#690 kirjoitettu 19.04.2013 23:14

" Se on mc kosola fak ool te kimiks, teen mitä teen enkä välitä muiden mielipiteist ikin. Muistan ku pentuna sain eka kertaa käteen mikin, toiset haluu taas rehvastella rahal jota ei voi sano ees tiliks. En oo! kertomas jos joku kysyy, miten tää tänne tuli mut täällä se pysyy" suunnilleen noin

#691 kirjoitettu 19.04.2013 23:16

Anssi menee koulun diskoon, ei se muuten menis mut siel on yks Jenni,
jota anssi monta vuotta jo on rakastanut.... yms Kaupunginorkesteri rulaa! eiks je?

#692 kirjoitettu 21.04.2013 15:52 Muok:21.04.2013 15:54

Sinua vielä täällä muistelen/
anna anteeksi sua ymmärtänyt en/
olin sielultani rikki, lapsi kohtalon/
joka silloin tiennyt ei mitä rakkaus on/

Muistan kuinka toisillemme luvattiin/
Sua ilman kuolen tai joudun helvettiin/
kanssasi sain täällä hetken olla onnellinen/
kaikki kaunis katoaa nyt mä tiedän sen/

Miks kaikki kaunis katoaa?/
rakkaat viedään meiltä liian aikaisin/
en rauhaa sielulleni saa/
vaik sut sydänmeeni silloin hautasin/

dingo - miksi kaikki kaunis katoaa http://www.youtube.com...L26108FFFD0CDCEDC

Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

passanger - let her go http://www.youtube.com...L26108FFFD0CDCEDC

et tällainen fiilis tänään

Jozhik muokkasi viestiä 15:54 21.04.2013

haittaaks ettei oo omat lyriikat??

#693 kirjoitettu 29.04.2013 00:51

Hotel hobbies padding dawns hollow corridors
A typewriter cackles out a stream of memories

Drying out a conscience, evicting a nightmare
Opening the doors for the dreams to come home

We live out lives in private shells
Ignore our senses and fool ourselves
To thinking that out there there's someone else cares
Someone to answer all our prayers, all our prayers...

Are we too far gone, are we so irresponsible
Have we lost our balls, or do we just not care
We're terminal cases that keep talking medicine
Pretending the end isn't quite that near
We make futile gestures, act to the cameras
With our made up faces and pr smiles
And when the angel comes down, down to deliver us
We'll find out that after all, we're only men of straw

But everything is still the same
Passing the time passing the blame
We carry on in the same old way
We'll find out we left it too late one day to say what we meant to say

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the water
Those problems seem to arise the ones you never really thought of
The feeling you get is similar to something like drowning
Out of your mind, you're out of your depth, you should have taken soundings
Clutching at straws, we're clutching at straws, we're clutching at straws

And if you ever come across us don't give us your sympathy
You can buy us a drink and just shake our hands
And you'll recognise by the reflection in our eyes that deep down inside we're all one and the same

We're clutching at straws
We're still drowning
Clutching at straws
We're still drowning, yeah clutching at straws
I'm still drowning
We're clutching at straws
I'm still drowning

#694 kirjoitettu 03.05.2013 01:29

Siihen alkaa kyllästyä
kun tarttis saada joku asia tehtyä
Onks kaikki laiskimmat tyypit punkjengissä
Ei työnnä lusikkaa suuhun
niin ei pysyttäis ees hengissä

Ch:
Emmä jaksa
No ei me nyt olla niin vanhoi ja raihnasia
Emmä jaksa
Vai odotatsä vaan et joku tekis asiat sun puolesta

Ei se työttömyys tai viinanjuonti
nyt niin passivoivaa voi olla
Jos jotain aloittaa
se sujuu yleensä omalla painolla
Työn tekeminen itsensä ja liikkeensä eteen
on oikeesti palkitsevaa
Mutku jätkät ei jaksa ees kaljakauppaan lähtee
Istuu vaan ja valittaa, et

Ch

Tässä pitäis olla kyse
oman elämän hallinnasta
Tee-se-itse on just sitä
sotaa apatiaa vastaan
Vähän improvisointia
ja henkistä viitseliäisyyttä
Jos sitä johonkin haluaa ryhtyä
niin kyllä se kroppa tulee perässä

Työn tekeminen tekeminen itsensä ja liikkeensä eteen
on oikeesti palkitsevaa
Mutku jätkät ei jaksa ees kaljakauppaan lähtee
Istuu vaan ja valittaa

#695 kirjoitettu 03.05.2013 10:41

In those quiet hours,
where the Elil ruled
The sky, the ground, our thoughts
We prayed for pity
but received none
We gasped for breath
But no breath came

- Fall of Efrafa - For El Ahraihrah To Cry

#696 kirjoitettu 16.05.2013 11:56

Angel rectums under attack
Angels are crying
As I penetrate
Rectums pulverized
Black blood flows
Rectal juices running
Rape them violently
Angels keep on weeping
As I cum on their wings
Angel rectums under attack
They are born whores
Sluts of heaven
Now that they have tasted cum
They will burn in hell
Finally the judgement day has arrived
Angel rectums must be destroyed
Angel rectums under attack

http://www.youtube.com...

#697 kirjoitettu 04.06.2013 11:11 Muok:04.06.2013 11:11

Näitä ei löytynyt oikein mistään, joten litteroin ne ihan itse. Jos taas saatais google-tärppi forumille.

Carolyn Wonderland - Victory of Flying lyrics sanat text teksti

When I was younger I had a great hunger, desire that yet had no name
Then I grew wings left the branch and felt the sting
I found the ground and the nest aren't the same
I kept my head low, tried to walk with the crows
While they cut my head and took all my scratch
It no longer burdened me, thieves they had set me free
I needed lightness to stay on my path
I need lightness to stay on my path

An open wing always gathers more wind and rain
But can you live without fear of dying
The price I've paid, and all the beds I've made
Were worth it all for the victory of flying

There was bugs scattered ´round, covering all that I've found
Mostly trash that was once someone's treasure
So I made a home, when it rained it was gone
So I stretched my wings for good measure
The pull of the sky had me dream I could fly
I would watch and learn, but I couldn't wait
So I did my part, took a running start
And dove head first into my fate
I dove head first into my fate
Lord, help a girl who can't wait

An open wing always gathers more wind and rain
But can you live without fear of dying
The price I've paid, and all the beds I've made
Were worth it all, worth it all for the victory of flying jee jee jee

ja sitte improa

#698 kirjoitettu 12.06.2013 17:23

I was visiting in africa two months ago
My goal was to see all those wild animals
Most excited I was when I came close to elephants
They were so big and somehow so scary
Something happened when I snapped a picture
Three elephants surrounded me
One of them ripped off all my clothes
Second elephant came on me and started to spread my buttocks
With its huge trunk
I screamed in agony when I felt it started to shove up my ass
Third elephant forced me to take its giant cock in my mouth
I sucked like a whore while I was assfucked by elephant trunk
After all it wasnt too bad at all
It took only about ten minutes and cock in my mouth started to cum
Extremely huge load of elephant sperm filled my throat and
Spurted allover my face
I was completely fucked up, but elephants had one more thing to do
All three of them huffed and puffed shits on me
Then they left me alone with my ripped asshole
I'll never go to Africa again

#699 kirjoitettu 31.08.2013 13:40

"Motherfucker I'm Awesome, no your not dude don't lie,
I am awsum, im driving around in my mom's ride.
I'm awesome! A quarter of my life gone by,
And I met all my friends online, motherfckr
I'm awesome, I will run away from a brawl,
I'm Awesome! There's no voicemail, nobody called.
I'm AWESomE! I can't afford to buy eight balls,
and I talk to myself on my facebook wall!

You know my pants sag low, even thoughThat went out of style like ten years agoSpose, I got the swagger of a crippleI got little biceps, getting fatter in the middle
And lyrically I'm not the bestPhysically the opposite of Randy Moss and yetSo preposterous, feel the awesomeness The most obnoxious guest up at the sausage-fest
Oh yes, the girls are repulsedSo I hide in my hood like I'm joining a cultI'm as nervous as my cat Ol' Dirty CurtisAll my writtens are bitten and all my verses are purchased
Me? I'll never date an actress, got too many back zitsPlus my whole home-aroma is cat pissEvery show I do is poorly promotedAnd if you like this it's 'cause my little sister wrote it"

Biisi oli sit Spose - I'm Awesome. Tais kaikki jo arvatakin

#700 kirjoitettu 21.03.2014 07:28

Kansa ei pelkää, kansalla ei ole muistia
Kansalaiset joudutaan tunnistamaan hampaista

#701 kirjoitettu 08.04.2014 23:38

Run desire run
Sexual being
Run him like a blade
To and through the heart
No conscience
One Motive
Cater to the hollow

Screaming feed me here
Fill me up again
Temporarily pacify this hungering
So grow
Libido throw
Dominoes of indiscretions down
Falling all around
In cycles
In circles
Constantly consuming
Conquer and devour

Cause it's time to bring the fire down
Bridle all this indiscretion
Long enough to edify
And permanently fill this hollow

Screaming feed me here
Fill me up again
Temporarily pacifying

Feed me here
Fill me up again
Temporarily pacifying

#702 kirjoitettu 24.04.2014 15:39

Yliopistojen tiedekunnissa vasemmistosikojen
karvaiset kainalot ja genitaalit hikoilevat jännityksestä
uusi lukuvuosi alkaa, maalta muutetaan kaupunkiin
päästään joukolla aivopesemään ja käännyttämään

Syvään suohon upotaan, yhteiskuntaa yhdessä tuhotaan
varastettujen polkupyörien korjauspajoissa uhotaan
liitytään terroristijärjestöihin ja ikinä ei mennä töihin
sosiaalitukien avulla käyhää kotona kasvatetaan

Kukkamekot ja rintaliivit poltetaan, unohdetaan hygienia
kajaalit poskilla lutkamarssille raivoamaan
kadut ja talot vallataan, autoja poltetaan
valtakunnan päämedian toimesta uutiset sensuroidaan

Kansalaistottelemattomuus on paskasakin termi
terrorismille jolla hyökätään elinkeinoja vastaan
jotka ovat legaaleja ja tuovat rahaa valtiolle
orjalaivojen terva oikeuttaa mihin vaan

Syvään kuoppaan pudotaan, julkiset paikat töhritään
vankilassa itketään kun ei ole vegaaniruokaa
itärajan puolustus tuhottiin, kerjääminen sallittiin
ihmishenki ei ole tässä maassa minkään arvoinen

Omaisuuttasi jos puolustat niin olet todella kusessa
"väärinymmärretyn nuorison" oma turvasatama
tässä maassa ei ole tahoa tai edes mitään tahtoa
joka voisi Mumisa terrorin tuhot korjata

Tämä on riskiarvio
tämä maa tuhoutuu sisältäpäin
tämä on riskiarvio
tämä maa tuhotaan sisältäpäin



Impaled Nazarene: Riskiarvio. Niin - vitun - 5/5.

#703 kirjoitettu 24.04.2014 16:38

I. Die Stunde hat geschlagen,
Britanniens Macht vergeht,
Durch U-Bootmänner Köhnheit,
GroBdeutschlands Stärke lebt.

U-Boote fahren -
Gar weit in's Meer hinaus.
U-Boote jagen
Torpedos aus den Rohren raus,
Jagen England, England in den Tod.

II. Ein Bersten und ein Krachen
ZerreiBt des Dampfers Schal'
Die letzte Fahrt zu machen:
Ist das nicht Todeswahl?

U-Boote fahren -
Gar weit in's Meer hinaus.
U-Boote jagen
Torpedos aus den Rohren raus,
Jagen England, England in den Tod.

#704 kirjoitettu 24.04.2014 17:50

Waking up in panic
A room not hot or cold
Afraid to fall asleep again
My other side will unfold

I am on the edge of sanity
Far out in a hazy, troubled dream

I've scored the morning
A crimson red thought
Someone is struggling
With the battles I've fought

Sleeping in the traffic
Red lights turn to green
Blinding painted white lines
Moving in between

I am on the edge of sanity
Far out in a hazy, troubled dream

Time and time over
It's always the same
Reckon you know me?
Are you playing my game?

Me is my own worst enemy

In a room of frantic fools
Waiting for a juicy blues
I present my guitar song
Scratching strings with tones too long
They see of with tired eyes
Hidden coughs, 'he's full of lies!'
Cigarette smoke and black tar stains
Darkness feasts on my remains

Please save me

Out of darkness into light
Still there's no salvation in sight
Seven wishes, what's the first?
Seven wishes, quench your blood-thirst
Killing has no consequence
In a world that makes no sense
Blow the brain that brought this up
Blow the brain that thought this up

Please save me

Lady in the doorway
With a face that's so kind
Caressing smells
Twisting my mind
Magical evening, and
She's got the glow
And though she's got it all
She's giving it away...

Her eyes begin to glow
In the semi dark room
I move close and close my eyes
And welcome her lips to mine
She takes of her clothes
Let's them slide down her hips
Her body is glowing
And she's giving it away

In the bed I lie awake
There's one road for me to take
I must leave while there's still time
To find out this truth of mine

Sleep... I'm only sleeping
Notice that my eyes are open
Run... What am i running from?
The demons they can't catch me while I'm travelling
Dark... Dark, dark darkness
Fill me up and set me free
Sea... I smell ocean air
Sleeping in the presence of seagulls

In the misty morning fog the dock lies clear
Salty smell of coral reeves appears this time of year
From the depths of mother earth he comes again
It's captain Flurry and his henchmen

In spite of his old crooked back and generous age
The beard, the pipe, his rusty sword, he's a cleptomanic sage man
He knows the difference to what we call right or wrong

And the hench-men sing in their old song
'Har har, we have sailed far
From Norway to Peru
Whatever captain Flurry says
You must believe it is true'

He says that 'well you know, snow covers the igloos'
He tells me 'it's hot and dry in the Sahara desert'
The kings and queens has got it in for us
And I just missed the bus

I'm running away now, away from pirates and seagulls and the dock of the bay
Reaching sweet perfumed city streets,
scented by gasoline and neon lights in sweet cooperation
A guy wells: 'Hey!' but I can't stop, 'cause the rhythm has got me by the balls,
so to say. I'm sneaking into the backstreets and some sleazy 70's disco club...

The ceiling is a sky of bright, shining disco lights
There's bee gees on the gramophone, they're singing 'ha ha ha ha
Staying alive', oh please, make me, take me through the night
But the laughter from her is an ocean of sleep to my restless soul
Tension leaves by her embrace and her breasts are warm, not cold
They're not cold at all

In reflection of some slim shade goggles
I decide to ease my stoned head
A punk stands in my freeway line
Taking up my precious time
His hair is dyed in the colour blue
Purple, green & yellow too
'Hello Dolly' on his lips
And Dixieland groove in his lips

He won't crack a smile for me
Won't be calm, he can't be, see
My arm is on the shoulder of
The woman his dream's dependant on
I have touched her deep inside
'Have I?' says I, I'm just passing by!
Say's he'll send me straight to hell
To teach me my lesson well

His lady's staring at me
She's glace eyed lover - concrete stone faced
Super sonic ultra bitch
She's tasting cocktails - 'which is which, hi hi hi?'

THE BITCH BREATHES FIRE
AND FIRE TAKES ME HIGHER THAN YOU (DO)

Sleep... I'm only sleeping
Dream... I'm only dreaming
Drink... I'm only driving

The punk is raising living hell
I decide to grow my shell
Run from here while i still can
'cause he has a gun in his hand oh no!
Shooting bullets where they hit
Or wherever they may fit
My stomach begins to ache a bit
And I collapse while thinking: 'shit'

THE GUN BREATHES FIRE
AND FIRE TAKES ME HIGHER THAN YOU (DO)

Falling through the fire
No constant speed left
Falling faster and faster
Do I really exist?
Am I on the verge of sanity?
In this hell of false humanity

The sheets are filled with angst
I once thought I'd escaped
But time after time, the pattern is the same
I get trapped in myself
And there's no way out of here
My mind is the maze that only I can face
That only I can face
That only I can face

Me is my own worst enemy

#705 kirjoitettu 05.12.2014 22:46

"Do you still see me even here?"
(The silver cord lies on the ground.)
"And so I'm dead", the young man said
over the hill (not a wish away).
My friends (as one) all stand aligned
although their taxis came too late.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.
Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath
ripe with rich attainments all imagined
sad misdeeds in disarray
the sore thumb screams aloud,
echoing out of the Passion Play.
All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key:
Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.

And who comes here to wish me well?
A sweetly-scented angel fell.
She laid her head upon my disbelief
and bathed me with her ever-smile.
And with a howl across the sand
I go escorted by a band of gentlemen in leather bound
NO-ONE (but someone to be found).

All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom.
Roll up roll down, Feeling unwound? Step into the viewing room.
The cameras were all around. We've got you taped; you're in the play.
Here's your I.D. (Ideal for identifying one and all.)
Invest your life in the memory bank; ours the interest and we thank you.
The ice-cream lady wets her drawers, to see you in the passion play.

Take the prize for instant pleasure, captain of the cricket team
public speaking in all weathers, a knighthood from a queen.

All of your best friends' telephones never cooled from the heat of your hand.
from your hand.....
There's a line in a front-page story, 13 horses that also-ran.
also ran.....
Climb in your old umbrella. Does it have a nasty tear in the dome?
in the dome.....
But the rain only gets in sometimes and the sun never leaves you alone,
you alone.....
you alone.....
you alone.....
you alone.....

Lover of the black and white it's your first night.
The Passion Play, goes all the way, spoils your insight.
Tell me how the baby's made, how the lady's laid,
why the old dog howls in sadness.

And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away
on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George
who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
(The examining body examined her body.)

Actor of the low-high Q, let's hear your view.
Peek at the lines upon your sleeves since your memory won't do.
Tell me: how the baby's graded, how the lady's faded,
why the old dogs howl with madness.

All of this and some of that's the only way to skin the cat.
And now you've lost a skin or two, you're for us and we for you.
The dressing room is right behind, We've got you taped, you're in the play.
How does it feel to be in the play?
How does it feel to play the play?
How does it feel to be the play?

Man of passion rise again, we won't cross you out:
for we do love you like a son, of that there's no doubt.
Tell us: is it you who are here for our good cheer?
Or are we here for the glory, for the story, for the gory satisfaction
of telling you how absolutely awful you really are?

There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching.
Sitting on a fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by.
Now this may not seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no one in particular,
"The hare has lost his spectacles," well, he began to wonder.

Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on the grass was hare.
In the stream that flowed by the grass a newt.
And sitting astride a twig of a bush a bee.

Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement,
for without his spectacles he appeared completely helpless.
Where were his spectacles? Could
someone have stolen them? Had he mislaid them? What was he to do?

Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:
"You probably ate them thinking they were a carrot."
"No!" interrupted Owl, who was wise.
"I have good eye-sight, insight, and foresight.
How could an intelligent hare make such a silly mistake?"
But all this time, Owl had been sitting on the fence, scowling!

A Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk.
She thought herself far superior in intelligence to the others.
She was their leader, their guru. She had the answer:
"Hare, you must go in search of the optician."
But then she realized that Hare was completely helpless without his spectacles.
And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, "I can't send Hare in search of anything!"
"You can guru, you can!" shouted Newt.
"You can send him with Owl."
But Owl had gone to sleep.
Newt knew too much to be stopped by so small a problem
"You can take him in your pouch."
But alas, Hare was much too big to fit into Kangaroo's pouch.

All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew nothing about spectacles.

As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn't care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door,
eat in the corner, talk to the floor,
cheating the spiders who come to say "Please",
(politely). They bend at the knees.
Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Old gentlemen talk of when they were young
of ladies lost, of erring sons.
Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)
pure as the truth, tied at both ends.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Scented cathedral spire pointed down.
We pray for souls in Kentish Town.
A delicate hush the gods, floating by
wishing us well, pie in the sky.
God of ages, Lord of Time, mine is the right, right to be wrong.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed
of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed).
Show me a good man and I'll show you the door.
The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More."
Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done,
I've put in a request to take up my turn
in that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell"
where no-one has nothing and nothing is- well -meaning fool,
pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling.
Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.

Colours I've none dark or light, red, white or blue.
Cold is my touch (freezing).

Summoned by name - I am the overseer over you.
Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere.
Fallen from grace, called on to bring sun or rain.
Occasional corn from my oversight grew.
Fell with mine angels from a far better place,
offering services for the saving of face.
Now you're here, you may as well admire
all whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation.
Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights
seen in the sky (flashing).
I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye.
Passionate play join round the maypole in dance
(primitive rite) (wrongly).
Summoned by name I am the overseer over you.

Flee the icy Lucifer. Oh he's an awful fellow!
What a mistake! I didn't take a feather from his pillow.
Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad.
I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had.
I'm only breathing. There's life on my ceiling.
The flies there are sleeping quietly.
Twist my right arm in the dark.
I would give two or three for
one of those days that never made
impressions on the old score.
I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree.
Everyone's saved we're in the grave.
See you there for afternoon tea.
Time for awaking the tea lady's making
a brew-up and baking new bread.
Pick me up at half past none
there's not a moment to lose.
There is the train on which I came.
On the platform are my old shoes.
Station master rings his bell.
Whistles blow and flags wave.
A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should).
I thank everybody
for making me welcome.
I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off.

Hail! Son of kings make the ever-dying sign
cross your fingers in the sky for those about to BE.
There am I waiting along the sand.

Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea.

Magus Perde, take your hand from off the chain.
Loose a wish to still, the rain, the storm about to BE.
Here am I (voyager into life).
Tough are the soles that tread the knife's edge.
Break the circle,stretch the line, call upon the devil.
Bring the gods, the gods' own fire.
In the conflict revel.
The passengers upon the ferry crossing, waiting to be born,
renew the pledge of life's long song rise to the reveille horn.
Animals queueing at the gate that stands upon the shore
breathe the ever-burning fire that guards the ever-door.

Man - son of man - buy the flame of ever-life
(yours to breathe and breath the pain of living): living BE!
Here am I! Roll the stone away
from the dark into ever-day.

There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.

#706 kirjoitettu 05.12.2014 23:00

Vessajono kirjoitti:
"Do you still see me even here?"
(The silver cord lies on the ground.)
"And so I'm dead", the young man said
over the hill (not a wish away).
My friends (as one) all stand aligned
although their taxis came too late.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.
Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath
ripe with rich attainments all imagined
sad misdeeds in disarray
the sore thumb screams aloud,
echoing out of the Passion Play.
All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key:
Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.

And who comes here to wish me well?
A sweetly-scented angel fell.
She laid her head upon my disbelief
and bathed me with her ever-smile.
And with a howl across the sand
I go escorted by a band of gentlemen in leather bound
NO-ONE (but someone to be found).

All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom.
Roll up roll down, Feeling unwound? Step into the viewing room.
The cameras were all around. We've got you taped; you're in the play.
Here's your I.D. (Ideal for identifying one and all.)
Invest your life in the memory bank; ours the interest and we thank you.
The ice-cream lady wets her drawers, to see you in the passion play.

Take the prize for instant pleasure, captain of the cricket team
public speaking in all weathers, a knighthood from a queen.

All of your best friends' telephones never cooled from the heat of your hand.
from your hand.....
There's a line in a front-page story, 13 horses that also-ran.
also ran.....
Climb in your old umbrella. Does it have a nasty tear in the dome?
in the dome.....
But the rain only gets in sometimes and the sun never leaves you alone,
you alone.....
you alone.....
you alone.....
you alone.....

Lover of the black and white it's your first night.
The Passion Play, goes all the way, spoils your insight.
Tell me how the baby's made, how the lady's laid,
why the old dog howls in sadness.

And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away
on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George
who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
(The examining body examined her body.)

Actor of the low-high Q, let's hear your view.
Peek at the lines upon your sleeves since your memory won't do.
Tell me: how the baby's graded, how the lady's faded,
why the old dogs howl with madness.

All of this and some of that's the only way to skin the cat.
And now you've lost a skin or two, you're for us and we for you.
The dressing room is right behind, We've got you taped, you're in the play.
How does it feel to be in the play?
How does it feel to play the play?
How does it feel to be the play?

Man of passion rise again, we won't cross you out:
for we do love you like a son, of that there's no doubt.
Tell us: is it you who are here for our good cheer?
Or are we here for the glory, for the story, for the gory satisfaction
of telling you how absolutely awful you really are?

There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching.
Sitting on a fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by.
Now this may not seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no one in particular,
"The hare has lost his spectacles," well, he began to wonder.

Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on the grass was hare.
In the stream that flowed by the grass a newt.
And sitting astride a twig of a bush a bee.

Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement,
for without his spectacles he appeared completely helpless.
Where were his spectacles? Could
someone have stolen them? Had he mislaid them? What was he to do?

Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:
"You probably ate them thinking they were a carrot."
"No!" interrupted Owl, who was wise.
"I have good eye-sight, insight, and foresight.
How could an intelligent hare make such a silly mistake?"
But all this time, Owl had been sitting on the fence, scowling!

A Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk.
She thought herself far superior in intelligence to the others.
She was their leader, their guru. She had the answer:
"Hare, you must go in search of the optician."
But then she realized that Hare was completely helpless without his spectacles.
And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, "I can't send Hare in search of anything!"
"You can guru, you can!" shouted Newt.
"You can send him with Owl."
But Owl had gone to sleep.
Newt knew too much to be stopped by so small a problem
"You can take him in your pouch."
But alas, Hare was much too big to fit into Kangaroo's pouch.

All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew nothing about spectacles.

As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn't care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door,
eat in the corner, talk to the floor,
cheating the spiders who come to say "Please",
(politely). They bend at the knees.
Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Old gentlemen talk of when they were young
of ladies lost, of erring sons.
Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)
pure as the truth, tied at both ends.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Scented cathedral spire pointed down.
We pray for souls in Kentish Town.
A delicate hush the gods, floating by
wishing us well, pie in the sky.
God of ages, Lord of Time, mine is the right, right to be wrong.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed
of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed).
Show me a good man and I'll show you the door.
The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More."
Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done,
I've put in a request to take up my turn
in that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell"
where no-one has nothing and nothing is- well -meaning fool,
pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling.
Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.

Colours I've none dark or light, red, white or blue.
Cold is my touch (freezing).

Summoned by name - I am the overseer over you.
Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere.
Fallen from grace, called on to bring sun or rain.
Occasional corn from my oversight grew.
Fell with mine angels from a far better place,
offering services for the saving of face.
Now you're here, you may as well admire
all whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation.
Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights
seen in the sky (flashing).
I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye.
Passionate play join round the maypole in dance
(primitive rite) (wrongly).
Summoned by name I am the overseer over you.

Flee the icy Lucifer. Oh he's an awful fellow!
What a mistake! I didn't take a feather from his pillow.
Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad.
I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had.
I'm only breathing. There's life on my ceiling.
The flies there are sleeping quietly.
Twist my right arm in the dark.
I would give two or three for
one of those days that never made
impressions on the old score.
I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree.
Everyone's saved we're in the grave.
See you there for afternoon tea.
Time for awaking the tea lady's making
a brew-up and baking new bread.
Pick me up at half past none
there's not a moment to lose.
There is the train on which I came.
On the platform are my old shoes.
Station master rings his bell.
Whistles blow and flags wave.
A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should).
I thank everybody
for making me welcome.
I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off.

Hail! Son of kings make the ever-dying sign
cross your fingers in the sky for those about to BE.
There am I waiting along the sand.

Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea.

Magus Perde, take your hand from off the chain.
Loose a wish to still, the rain, the storm about to BE.
Here am I (voyager into life).
Tough are the soles that tread the knife's edge.
Break the circle,stretch the line, call upon the devil.
Bring the gods, the gods' own fire.
In the conflict revel.
The passengers upon the ferry crossing, waiting to be born,
renew the pledge of life's long song rise to the reveille horn.
Animals queueing at the gate that stands upon the shore
breathe the ever-burning fire that guards the ever-door.

Man - son of man - buy the flame of ever-life
(yours to breathe and breath the pain of living): living BE!
Here am I! Roll the stone away
from the dark into ever-day.

There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.


Oliko tämä nyt yhden biisin vaiko koko levyllisen lyriikat?

#707 kirjoitettu 05.12.2014 23:23

Kostiainen kirjoitti:
Vessajono kirjoitti:
"Do you still see me even here?"
(The silver cord lies on the ground.)
"And so I'm dead", the young man said
over the hill (not a wish away).
My friends (as one) all stand aligned
although their taxis came too late.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.
Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath
ripe with rich attainments all imagined
sad misdeeds in disarray
the sore thumb screams aloud,
echoing out of the Passion Play.
All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key:
Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.

And who comes here to wish me well?
A sweetly-scented angel fell.
She laid her head upon my disbelief
and bathed me with her ever-smile.
And with a howl across the sand
I go escorted by a band of gentlemen in leather bound
NO-ONE (but someone to be found).

All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom.
Roll up roll down, Feeling unwound? Step into the viewing room.
The cameras were all around. We've got you taped; you're in the play.
Here's your I.D. (Ideal for identifying one and all.)
Invest your life in the memory bank; ours the interest and we thank you.
The ice-cream lady wets her drawers, to see you in the passion play.

Take the prize for instant pleasure, captain of the cricket team
public speaking in all weathers, a knighthood from a queen.

All of your best friends' telephones never cooled from the heat of your hand.
from your hand.....
There's a line in a front-page story, 13 horses that also-ran.
also ran.....
Climb in your old umbrella. Does it have a nasty tear in the dome?
in the dome.....
But the rain only gets in sometimes and the sun never leaves you alone,
you alone.....
you alone.....
you alone.....
you alone.....

Lover of the black and white it's your first night.
The Passion Play, goes all the way, spoils your insight.
Tell me how the baby's made, how the lady's laid,
why the old dog howls in sadness.

And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away
on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George
who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
(The examining body examined her body.)

Actor of the low-high Q, let's hear your view.
Peek at the lines upon your sleeves since your memory won't do.
Tell me: how the baby's graded, how the lady's faded,
why the old dogs howl with madness.

All of this and some of that's the only way to skin the cat.
And now you've lost a skin or two, you're for us and we for you.
The dressing room is right behind, We've got you taped, you're in the play.
How does it feel to be in the play?
How does it feel to play the play?
How does it feel to be the play?

Man of passion rise again, we won't cross you out:
for we do love you like a son, of that there's no doubt.
Tell us: is it you who are here for our good cheer?
Or are we here for the glory, for the story, for the gory satisfaction
of telling you how absolutely awful you really are?

There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching.
Sitting on a fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by.
Now this may not seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no one in particular,
"The hare has lost his spectacles," well, he began to wonder.

Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on the grass was hare.
In the stream that flowed by the grass a newt.
And sitting astride a twig of a bush a bee.

Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement,
for without his spectacles he appeared completely helpless.
Where were his spectacles? Could
someone have stolen them? Had he mislaid them? What was he to do?

Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:
"You probably ate them thinking they were a carrot."
"No!" interrupted Owl, who was wise.
"I have good eye-sight, insight, and foresight.
How could an intelligent hare make such a silly mistake?"
But all this time, Owl had been sitting on the fence, scowling!

A Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk.
She thought herself far superior in intelligence to the others.
She was their leader, their guru. She had the answer:
"Hare, you must go in search of the optician."
But then she realized that Hare was completely helpless without his spectacles.
And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, "I can't send Hare in search of anything!"
"You can guru, you can!" shouted Newt.
"You can send him with Owl."
But Owl had gone to sleep.
Newt knew too much to be stopped by so small a problem
"You can take him in your pouch."
But alas, Hare was much too big to fit into Kangaroo's pouch.

All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew nothing about spectacles.

As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn't care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door,
eat in the corner, talk to the floor,
cheating the spiders who come to say "Please",
(politely). They bend at the knees.
Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Old gentlemen talk of when they were young
of ladies lost, of erring sons.
Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)
pure as the truth, tied at both ends.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Scented cathedral spire pointed down.
We pray for souls in Kentish Town.
A delicate hush the gods, floating by
wishing us well, pie in the sky.
God of ages, Lord of Time, mine is the right, right to be wrong.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed
of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed).
Show me a good man and I'll show you the door.
The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More."
Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done,
I've put in a request to take up my turn
in that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell"
where no-one has nothing and nothing is- well -meaning fool,
pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling.
Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.

Colours I've none dark or light, red, white or blue.
Cold is my touch (freezing).

Summoned by name - I am the overseer over you.
Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere.
Fallen from grace, called on to bring sun or rain.
Occasional corn from my oversight grew.
Fell with mine angels from a far better place,
offering services for the saving of face.
Now you're here, you may as well admire
all whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation.
Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights
seen in the sky (flashing).
I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye.
Passionate play join round the maypole in dance
(primitive rite) (wrongly).
Summoned by name I am the overseer over you.

Flee the icy Lucifer. Oh he's an awful fellow!
What a mistake! I didn't take a feather from his pillow.
Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad.
I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had.
I'm only breathing. There's life on my ceiling.
The flies there are sleeping quietly.
Twist my right arm in the dark.
I would give two or three for
one of those days that never made
impressions on the old score.
I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree.
Everyone's saved we're in the grave.
See you there for afternoon tea.
Time for awaking the tea lady's making
a brew-up and baking new bread.
Pick me up at half past none
there's not a moment to lose.
There is the train on which I came.
On the platform are my old shoes.
Station master rings his bell.
Whistles blow and flags wave.
A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should).
I thank everybody
for making me welcome.
I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off.

Hail! Son of kings make the ever-dying sign
cross your fingers in the sky for those about to BE.
There am I waiting along the sand.

Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea.

Magus Perde, take your hand from off the chain.
Loose a wish to still, the rain, the storm about to BE.
Here am I (voyager into life).
Tough are the soles that tread the knife's edge.
Break the circle,stretch the line, call upon the devil.
Bring the gods, the gods' own fire.
In the conflict revel.
The passengers upon the ferry crossing, waiting to be born,
renew the pledge of life's long song rise to the reveille horn.
Animals queueing at the gate that stands upon the shore
breathe the ever-burning fire that guards the ever-door.

Man - son of man - buy the flame of ever-life
(yours to breathe and breath the pain of living): living BE!
Here am I! Roll the stone away
from the dark into ever-day.

There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.


Oliko tämä nyt yhden biisin vaiko koko levyllisen lyriikat?


Sekä että.