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TUESDAY IS SONG STUCK IN YOUR HEAD DAY!

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I can see the darkness in me and it's quite amazing
Life and death is no mystery and I wanna taste it
Step inside of my mind and you'll find curiosity, animosity
High philosophy like the prophesied meditation
Reminisce on my wonder years and I wonder yeah
Sentiments of my words ain't been so sincere
The sentiment of my nerves that I just persevere
The big thought of fallin' off disappeared to my fate
They say that Heaven's real
Analyze my demise, I say I'm super anxious
Recognize I deprive this fear and then embrace it
Vandalizing these walls only if they could talk
Conversations don't contemplate to my dark thoughts
Lookin' down on my soul now, tell me I'm in control now
Tell me I can live long and I can live wrong and I can live right
And I can sing song and I can unite with you that I love
You that I like, look at my life and tell me I fight
This that final destination, this that find some information
This that find some inspiration, this that crack, the instillation
This that consciousness sharpening and fist pump and that bomb detonation
Please don't bomb my nation, embalming fluid waiting
I got mind control when I'm here, you gon' hate me when I'm gone
Ain't no blood pumpin' no fear, I got hope inside of my bones
This that life beyond your own life, this say this go for mankind
This that outer-body experience, no coincidence you been died
Bitch, you're dead!

 

Say you will never ever catch me, no, no, no

Say you will never ever catch me, no, no, no

Say you will never ever catch me, no, no, no

Say you will never ever catch me, no, no, no

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Maybe the best part of the new Boardwalk Empire ep besides the "pandemonium" line.

 

 

His name was Yuba,
He was homely, he was dumb.
And so was Yuba
Just a big ambitious bum,
He wouldn't do-a
So much as chew a piece of gum
So this is news to me.
 
I understand-a
He's an overnight success,
He's in demand-a.
Why? I never could have guessed.
Well, he found a big bass tuba
Then he bummed his way to Cuba
And the rest is history.
 
Down in Havana there's a funny-looking boob-a,
He plays the rhumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
Oh when his sap'll sell an apple
But this cap'd rather grapple
With his oompah-oompah-oompah.
They prefer it to the booba-doopa-doopa.
They love the rhumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
 
It doesn't take him very long to get a tumble,
Oh, all the rhumba lovers go into their rumble.
Oh, how I'd love to be his double,
For without a bit of trouble
With his oompah-oompah-oompah
He can knock eleven ladies for a loop-a.
They love the rhumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
 
He's not a green horn,
He blows a mean horn,
A must be seen horn,
Oh he's a riddle.
 
Why, all Havana loves the sunny-lookin' boob-a,
He plays the rhumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
I can't believe it but they tell us
Every peanut vendor's jealous
Of his oompah-oompah-oompah,
They prefer it to the boopa-doopa-doopa.
They love the rhumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
They love his oompah-oompah-oompah-oomp.
 
He's not a green horn,
He blows a mean horn,
A must be seen horn,
Oh he's a riddle.
 
Why, all Havana loves the sunny-lookin' boob-a,
Who plays the thumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
He's getting wealthy, strong and hearty
Thanks to plenty good Bacardi
And his oompah-oompah-oompah, oh he
Knocks the booba-doopa for a loop-ah.
They love the rhumba round the tuba down in Cuba.
 
They love his oompah-oompah-oompah-oompah
Oomp!
Oomp!
Oomp!!

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I seen a hand, I seen a vision

It was reaching through the clouds, To risk a dream

A shadow cross the sky
And it crushed into the ground, Just like a beast

 

The old man's back again
The old man's back again

 

I seen a woman, standing in the snow
She was silent as she watched them take her man

Teardrops burned her cheeks
for she thought she'd heard, The shadow had left this land

 

The old man's back again
The old man's back again

 

The crowds just gathered, their faces turned away
And they queue all day like dragons of disgust

All the women whispering
Wondering just what these young hot-heads want of us
And entres vie he cries

with eyes that ring like chimes
His anti-worlds go spinning through his head
He burns them in his dreams
for half awake they may as well be dead

 

The old man's back again
I see he's back again

 

I see a soldier, He's standing in the rain
For him there's no old man to walk behind

Devoured by his pain
bewildered by the faces who pass him by

He'd like another name the one he's got's a curse
These people cried
Why can't they understand
His mother called him Ivan then she died

 

The old man's back again
The old man's back again
I can see him back again

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I'm a rabbit in your headlights
Scared of the spotlight
You don't come to visit
I'm stuck in this bed
 
Thin rubber gloves
She laughs when she's crying
She cries when she's laughing
 
Fat bloody fingers are sucking your soul away...
(Away... away... away...)
 
I'm a rabbit in your headlights
Christian suburbanite
Washed down the toilet
Money to burn
 
Fat bloody fingers are sucking your soul away...
 
If you're frightened of dying and you're holding on
You'll see devils tearing your life away
But if you've made your peace,
Then the devils are really angels
Freeing you from the earth
 
from the earth
 
from the earth
 
Rotworms on the underground
Caught between stations
Butterfingers
I'm losing my patience
 
I'm a rabbit in your headlights
Christian suburbanite
You got money to burn....
 
Fat bloody fingers are sucking your soul away...
Away, away, away,
Away, away, away.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5gI_Npfa34

 

I have been alone for several months on a verge of a level up
Caught in a shifting paradigm
I’ve known the strangest pains
Played the language games
And won a couple of pissing matches in my time
Exchanging love tokens
Redefining success to include what’s broken in my mind
I’ve read the Wittgenstein
And sat staring at the ceiling
Wondering when I’m going to die
I don’t need to be comforted
I don’t need to be comforted

 

I don’t need comforts in the form of Avril Lavigne singles
You’re the dude in clerks getting his hand caught in a canister of Pringles
Imma Squidbillies animator
Rap messiah agitator
Chronic bathroom masturbater
I wrote it so you could in fact predict it
And later tell your friends you contributed to this picnic
Then I dramatically took my mask off to reveal myself for what I am
A confluence of cheap thrills
An impersonator of Will.i.am
With a mountain of messy used napkins by my desktop
Inventor of a genre like Dubstep, but with less drop
For breakfast a can of buttermilk biscuits
A viscous nitwit
Who picks at shit until he’s surrounded by broken idols
In the twilight barricaded with bottles of open Midol
Rider of waves tidal
Writer of imaginary titles
Like the Strider
But with pants that actually fit my thighs though

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Not Tuesday, but this one comes up pretty regularly on my radio station and has lodged itself in my cranium along with the voices that were already there...



There is a song
You're trembling to its tune
At the request of the moon

Licking her chops
She looks at the lunatics
She needs another fix

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read
Only a crazy little thing I read

Maybe the planets
Are trying to become the stars
And we really came from Mars

The earth is alive
And man is a parasite
And heavenly bodies make us fight

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read
Only a crazy little thing I read

There is a song
You're trembling to its tune
At the request of the moon

Licking her chops
She looks at the lunatics
She needs another fix

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read

I'm only joking
I don't believe a thing I've said
What are you smoking?
I'm just a-fucking with your head
Only a crazy little thing I read
Only a crazy little thing I read

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Another one on a non-Tuesday from St. Louis-area band Greek Fire.  Might sound familiar since it was on one of the trailers for Big Hero 6.


 

On top of the world, on top of it all, trying to feel invincible

Dying on top of the world

I remember the nights

Caught up in dreaming my ‘goodbyes’

Watching the door for anything more than an ordinary life

I remember the days

New beginnings on an open ‘page’

With something to prove and nothing to lose, not a soul to betray

Here I am

Living a dream that I can’t hold

Here I am on my own

On top of the world, on top of it all, trying to feel invincible

I’m dying on top of the world

I remember the lies

Caught up in building ‘paradise’

The angels were slaves and demons behaved and

Everything was alright

Here I am

Living a dream that I can’t hold 

Here I am on my own

On top of the world, on top of it all, trying to feel invincible

I’m dying on top of the world

I hear the crowds beneath me

I’m wishing they could reach me

But I’m ‘on top of the world’

Up here I’m dying alone

Inside the walls of gold, outside of happiness

It’s all been a show, too late to confess

No room for heart and soul, no room for innocence

On top of the world, on top of it all, trying to feel invincible

But I’m dying on top of the world

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Levon wears his war wound like a crown
He calls his child Jesus
'Cause he likes the name
And he sends him to the finest school in town

Levon, Levon likes his money
He makes a lot they say
Spend his days counting
In a garage by the motorway

He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day
When the New York Times said God is dead 
And the war's begun
Alvin Tostig has a son today

And he shall be Levon
And he shall be a good man
And he shall be Levon
In tradition with the family plan
And he shall be Levon
And he shall be a good man
He shall be Levon

Levon sells cartoon balloons in town
His family business thrives
Jesus blows up balloons all day
Sits on the porch swing watching them fly

And Jesus, he wants to go to Venus
Leaving Levon far behind
Take a balloon and go sailing
While Levon, Levon slowly dies

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I don't want to live like this, Lord. I don't want to live at all. I don't want to make this face anymore, but if I don't, that's all. I don't want to live like this anymore. I don't want to live at all. I don't want to make this face anymore, but if I don't, that's all. I don't feel love. I don't feel anything. I don't feel anything where this love should be I don't want to feel this anymore but if I don't, that's fake. I don't want to do this anymore, but there's nothing else to take. I don't feel love. I don't feel anything. I don't feel anything where this love should be.

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out of the ruins
blood grown heavy from his past
his wings stripped by thunder
but those storms keep coming back
singing birds in sickness
sing the same blues songs
when they fell out of the emptiness
they must have brought along
space's loneliness
space's loneliness
gotten so good at hiding it
even he does not admit it
that glittering flash in his eyes
makes it look like he might be alright
if the blues are you hunter
then you will come face to face
with that darkness and desolation
and the endless depression
but you are not helpless
and you are not helpless
try to beat it
try to beat it
and live through space's loneliness
and live through space's loneliness
you are not helpless
you are not helpless
i'll help you to try to beat it

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Poor Black Mattie ain't got a change in clothes

Girl got drunk, close that door

Poor Black Mattie ain't got change o' clothes

Girl got drunk, throwed her clothes outdoor

Goin' to Memphis, see the World's Fair

Reason I'm goin', baby, there

Goin' to Memphis, see the World's Fair

Reason I'm goin', know my baby there

 

Need no heater fireplace by my bed

Women I got cherry red

Need no heater fireplace by my bed

Woman I got, keep me cherry red

Woman I got, keep me cherry red

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Cryin', ain't goin' down this

Big road by myself

A-don't ya hear me talkin', pretty mama?

Lord, ain't goin' down this

Big road by myself

If I don't carry you

Gon car' somebody else

 

Cryin, sun gon' shine in

My backdoor, someday

A-don't ya hear me talkin', pretty mama?

Lord, sun gon' shine in

My backdoor, someday

A wind gon' change all

Blow my blues away

 

Baby, what made you do

Things you do-do-do

Like you do-do-do?

Don't you hear me, now?

What made you do me

Like you do-do-do?

Now, you think 'gon do me like you

Done to po' old Cherry Red

Take the poor boy's money, now

Sho' nuff, you won't take mine

A-don't ya hear me talkin', pretty mama?

Taken this poor boy's money

Sho' nuff, won't take mine

Taken the po' boy's money, now

Sure t' God, you won't take mine

Cryin', ain't goin' down this

Big road by myself

A-don't you hear me talkin', pretty mama?

Lord, ain't goin' down this

Big road by myself

If I don't car' you

Gon' carry somebody else

Cryin', sun gon' shine on

My back door someday

A-don't you hear me talkin', pretty mama?

Know sun gon' shine in

My back door someday

And a wind gon' change and

Blow my blues away.

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Te estan buscando matador!
 
Me dicen el matador, nací en barracas
si hablamos de matar mis palabras matan
no hace mucho tiempo que cayo el Leon Santillan
y ahora se que en cualquier momento me la van a dar
ahh matador.. ahh matador.. donde estas matador..
ahh matador...ahh matador
 
Me dicen el matador me estan buscando
en una fría pension los estoy esperando
agazapado en lo mas oscuro de mi habitacion
fusil en mano, espero mi final
ahh Matador, ahh matador
la cana te busca matador
la cana te prende matador...
 
matador..!! matador..!!, donde estas matador
matador no te vayas, matador..!! matador..!!,
oh yeah matador..!!, matador..!! matador..!!
 
Viento de libertad sangre combativa
en los bolsillos del pueblo la vieja herida
de pronto el dia se me hace de noche
Murmullos, corridas aquel golpe en la puerta,
llego la fuerza policial
 
ahh matador.. ahh matador..
mira hermano en que terminaste
por pelear por un mundo mejor
Que suenan, son balas me alcanzan,
me atrapan resiste, Victor Jara no calla.
Matador..!!, matador..!! matador te esta buscando
matador..!! matador..!! matador te estan matando
oh yeah matador..!!, matador..!! .. valiente matador
 
Me dicen el matador de los 100 barrios porteños
no tengo por que tener miedo mis palabras son balas
balas de paz, balas de justicia
soy la voz de los que hicieros callar sin razon
por el solo hecho de pensar distinto, ay Dios
Santa Maria de los Buenos Aires si todo estuviera mejor
Matador..!!, matador..!! si todo estuviera mejor
matador..!!, matador..!! a donde vas matador
matador..!! ohh yeah..
matador..!!, matador..!!
 
 

They are looking for you matador!

They tell me the Matador was born in the barracks
If we talk about killing, my words themselves kill
It hasn't been very long since the Leon Santillan fell
And now I know that at any moment I am going to be next.
Ahh matador.... Ahh matador.. Where are you matador?
Ahh matador... Ahh matador...
The matador tells me they are looking for me
I am waiting for them in empty thought
Crouching in the darkest corner of my bedroom
Gun in hand, I wait for my end
Ahh matador... Ahh matador...
The fuzz(police) is looking for you matador
The fuzz is going to arrest you matador...
Matador...!! Matador...!! Where are you matador?
Matador, don't go, matador..!! matador..!!
Oh yeah matador..!! matador..!! matador..!!
Wind of liberty, fighting blood
In the pockets of the town the old ones coward
The sharpness of daytime exists in my night
Murmurs, bullfights of hits in the door
The police force has arrived
ahh matador.. ahh matador..
look brother how you were finished off
for fighting for a better world
What a sound, they are bullets that hit me
they trap me, i resist. Victor Jara is not quiet.
Matador..!! Matador..!! they are looking for you
Matador..!! Matador..!! they are looking for you
Oh yeah matador..!!, matador..!! brave matador
They tell me about the matador in over 100 neighborhoods in Buenos Aires
I cannot be afraid, my words are bullets
Bullets of peace, bullets of justice
I am the voice of those that were silenced unjustly
Because only he can think differently, oh God
Saint Mary of Buenos Aires if only everything were better
Matador..!! Matador..!! If only everything were better.
MAtador..!! Matador..!! Where are you going matador?
matador..!! ohh yeah..


matador..!! matador..!!

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I'm in a goofy mid-90s pop-punk mood today. Supernova were a gimmicky band with some backstory about being aliens or whatever. They had some sort of crossover with the much-loved Man Or Astroman? This gem is off the album Ages 3 and Up. Good 2:30 three-chord stuff.

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The Queers are one of the most beloved pop-punk bands of all-time. They kinda sorta came close to breaking out a bit bigger with their "Don't Back Down" album. It's one the best albums of the 90s, in any genre. Their songwriting at their peak combined the best of The Ramones and The Beach Boys. You can't really get better than that. But they never really got critical acclaim beyond punk fans. I think it's because of their name and that they're not afraid to have juvenile songs like "Can't Stop Farting" around some of the best pop songs you'll ever hear.

This is the last song on that album. It's a duet with Lisa Marr from Cub, another one of the best bands of the 90s and pretty much forgotten (their most well-known song is "New York City," which people only know about because They Might Be Giants cover it.)

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I'm in a goofy mid-90s pop-punk mood today. Supernova were a gimmicky band with some backstory about being aliens or whatever. They had some sort of crossover with the much-loved Man Or Astroman? This gem is off the album Ages 3 and Up. Good 2:30 three-chord stuff.

Wow I thought I was the only person on Earth who liked that album.

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Lurch: (Gong) You Rang?
Singers: Hi, Lurch!
Lurch: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Singers: Hey, Lurch, we just heard the news around town
Lurch: Newwwwwwwws?
Singers: And we’re here to see what you’re putting down
Lurch: Ahhhhhhhhh ha-ha-ha!
Singers: We thought you might give us a chance
And teach us how to do the Lurch daaaance annnn-ance
Lurch: My pleasure
Singers: Hey, Lurch, teach us how to do the Lurch dance
Lurch: Your servant
Singers: Yeah, Lurch, we wanna learn to do the Lurch dance
Lurch: ……….Follow me
Lurch: Yah ah ah ah ahhh -ah ah ah ahh. It’s a brand new bag! Yeah!
Lurch: Yah ah ah ah. Don’t just stand there! Lurch!
Lurch: Ah ah aha. Good. Now you got it!
Singers: Hey, Lurch, thanks a lot for turning us on!
Lurch: You’re welcome!
Singers: To a dance that we can do to any song.
Lurch: Any time!
Singers: Now everybody, c’mon and do it
It’s easy and there's really nothing to it! oooooh
Lurch: Ah ah ah ah
Singers: Hey, Lurch, we’re really glad we learned to Lurch.
Lurch: To know it is to love it!
Singers: Hmm hmmm, we’re really glad we learned to Lurch.
Do the Lurch!
Lurch: Satisfaction, jubilation!
Singers: Hmm hmmm, we’re really glad we learned to Lurch.
Do the Lurch!
(fade)

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