Lyrics on my mind...

[Feck]

Warm Wet Circles (Music: Marillion Lyrics: Fish)

On promenades where drunks propose to lonely arcade mannequins
Where ceremonies pause at the jewelers shop display
Feigning casual silence in strained romantic interludes
Till they commit themselves to the muted journey home
And the pool player rests on another cue
Last nights hero picking up his dues
A honeymoon gambled on a ricochet
She's staring at the brochures at the holidays
Chalking up a name in your hometown
Standing all your mates to another round
Laughing at the world till the barman wipes away the warm wet circles
The warm wet circles

I saw teenage girls like gaudy moths
A classrooms shabby butterflies
Flirt in the glow of stranded telephone boxes;
Planning white lace weddings from smeared hearts and token proclamations,
Rolled from stolen lipsticks across the razored webs of glass
Sharing cigarettes with experience
With her giggling jealous confidantes,
She faithfully traces his name
With quick bitten fingernails
Through the tears of condensation
That'll cry through the night
As the glancing headlights of the last bus
Kiss adolescence goodbye

In a warm wet circle
Like a mothers kiss on your first broken heart,
A warm wet circle
Like a bullit hole in Central Park,
A warm wet circle
And I'll always surrender to the warm wet circles

She nervously undressed in the dancing beams of the Fidra lighthouse
Giving it all away before it's too late
She'll let a lovers tongue move in a warm wet circle
Giving it all away and showing no shame
She'll take a mother's kiss on her first broken heart
A warm wet circle,
She'll realise that she played her part in a warm wet circle

It was a wedding ring,
Destined to be found in a cheap hotel
Lost in a kitchen sink or thrown in a wishing well

[Bella Fortuna]

Dearest - though you're the nearest to my heart
please don't ever
ever say we'll part

You scold and you were so bold
yes together
our love will grow old
our love will grow old

You may be a million miles away
please believe me
when you hear me say
I love you - I love you

Come home - keep me from these sleepless nights
try my love again
I'm gonna treat you right
I'm gonna treat you right

[klr]

The title/opening track from I Trawl the Megahertz by Paddy McAloon.

Don't even think of looking for it on Youtube - it's 22 minutes long (... but I'm listening to it now).

http://allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&to ... fexqrald6e

I am telling myself the story of my life,
stranger than song or fiction.
We start with the joyful mysteries,
before the appearance of ether,
trying to capture the elusive:
the farm where the crippled horses heal,
the woods where autumn is reversed,
and the longing for bliss in the arms
of some beloved from the past.
I said 'Your daddy loves you'.
I said 'Your daddy loves you very much';
he just doesn't want to live with us anymore'.

The plane comes down behind enemy lines
and you don't speak the language.
A girl takes pity on you:
she is Mother Theresa walking among the poor,
and her eyes have attained night vision.
In an orchard, drenched in blue light,
she changes your bandages and soothes you.
All day her voice is balm,
then she lowers you into the sunset.
Hers is the wing span of the quotidian angel,
so her feet are sore from the walk
to the well of human kindness,
but she gives you a name and you grow into it.
Whether a tramp of the low road or a prince,
riding through Wagnerian opera,
you learn some, if not all, of the language.
And these are the footsteps you follow
- the tracks of impossible love.

12 days in Paris,
and I am awaiting for life to start.
In the lobby of the Hotel Charlemagne
they are hanging photographs
of Rap artists and minor royalty.
All cigarettes have been air-brushed from these pictures,
making everyone a liar,
and saving no-one from their folly.
As proud as Lucifer, I do nothing to hide
my kerosene dress and flint eyes
- which one steady look, are able to restore
to these images their carcinogenic threat.
So what if this is largely bravado ?
I have only 12 days in Paris
and I'm awaiting for life to start.
I'm setting out my stall behind a sheet of dark hair,
and you, the hostage of crazed hormones,
will be driven to say:
'I am the next poet laurate
and she is the cherry madonna,
and all of the summer is hers.'

At first I don't notice you,
or the colour of your hair,
or your readiness to laugh.
I am tying a shoelace,
or finding the pavement fascinating
when the comet thrills the sky.
Ever the dull alchemist.
I have before me all the necesary elements:
it is their combination that eludes me.
Forgive me ... I am sleepwalking.
I am jangling along to some song of the moment,
suffering it's sweetness,
luxuriating in it's feeble aproximation of starlight.
Meanwhile there is a real world ...
trains are late, doctors are breaking bad news,
but I am living in a lullaby.

You might be huddled in a doorway on the make,
or just getting by, but I don't see it.
You are my one shot at glory.
Soon I will read in your expression
warmth, encouragement, assent.
From an acorn of interest
I will cultivate whole forests of affection.
I will analyse your gestures
like centuries of scholars
poring over Jesus'words.
Anything that doesn't fit my narrow interpretation
I will carelessly discard.
For I am careless ... I'm shameless ... and -
('Mayday, Mayday, watch the needle leave the dial')
I am reckless,
I am telling myself the story of my life.

Soon, I will make you a co-conspirator:
if I am dizzy I will call it rapture;
if I am low I will attribute it to your absence,
noting your tidal effect upon my moods.
Oblivious to the opinions of neighbours
I will bark at the moon like a dog.
In short, I'm asking to be scalded.
It is the onset of fever.

Yesterday they took a census.
Boasting, I said 'I live two doors down from joy.'
Today, bewildered and sarcastic, I phone them and ask
'Isn't it obvious? This slum is empty.'

Repeat after me: happiness is only a habit.
I am listening to the face in the mirror
but I don't think I believe what she's telling me.
Her words are modern, but her eyes have been weeping
in gardens and grottoes since the Middle Ages.
This is the aftermath of fever.
I cool the palms of my hands upon the bars
of an imaginary iron gate.
Only by an extreme act of will can I avoid
becoming a character in a country song:
'Lord, you gave me nothing, then took it all away.'
These are the sorrowful mysteries,
and I have to pay attention.
In a chamber of my heart sits an accountant.
He is frowning and waving red paper at me.
I go to the window for air.
I catch the scent of apples,
I hunger for a taste,
but I can't see the orchard for the rain.

There are two ways of looking at this.
The first is to accept that you are gone,
and to light a candle at the shrine of amnesia.
(I could even cheat).
In the subterranean world of anaesthetics
sad white canoes are forever sailing downstream
in the early hours of the morning.
'Tell the stars I'm coming,
make them leave a space for me;
whether bones, or dust,
or ashes once among them I'll be free.'
It may make a glamorous song
but it's dark train of thought
with too many carriages.

There is, of course,
another way of looking at this:
Your daddy loves you; I said
'Your daddy loves you very much;
he doesn't want to live with us anymore.'
I am telling myself the story of my life.

By day and night, fancy electronic dishes
are trained on the heavens.
They are listening for smudged echoes
of the moment of creation.
They are listening for the ghost of a chance.
They may help us make sense of who we are
and where we came from;
and, as a compassionate side effect,
teach us that nothing is ever lost.

So ... I rake the sky.
I listen hard.
I trawl the megahertz.
But the net isn't fine enough,
and I miss you
- a swan sailing between two continents,
a ghost inmune to radar.

Still, my eyes are fixed upon
the place I last saw you,
your signal urgent but breaking,
before you became cotton in a blizzard,
a plane coming down behind enemy lines.

[Kristie]

Steve Holy ~ Good Morning Beautiful

Good morning beautiful
How was your night
Mine was wonderful
With you by my side
And when I open my eyes
And see your sweet face
It's a good morning beautiful day

I didn't see the light
I didn't know day from night
I had no reason to care
But since you came along
I can face the dawn
Cause I know you'll be there

Good morning beautiful
How was your night
Mine was wonderful
With you by my side
And when I open my eyes
And see your sweet face
It's a good morning beautiful day

I'll never worry
If it's raining outside
Cause in here with you girl
The sun always shines

Good morning beautiful
How was your night
Mine was wonderful
With you by my side
And when I open my eyes
And see your sweet face
It's a good morning beautiful day, yeah

A good morning beautiful...day

Good morning beautiful
A beautiful day
Good morning beautiful
Good morning beautiful
A beautiful day
Good morning beautiful day
A beautiful day
Good morning beautiful

[JenTirydail]

[Feck]

Well If we are doing love songs today how's this ?


I've got a reputation of being a man with a gift of words
a romantic poetic type or so they say
but I find it hard to express the way I feel about you
without getting involved with the old cliches.

In the old cliches, it's the old cliches.

This song's begun so many times but never
in a way that you wont consider to be an old cliche.
I want to say that I need you, I miss you when you're away.
And how it seemed like fate - o here we go - the same old cliches.

It's the same old cliches.

It's not that I'm embarrassed or shy, well, you know me too well
but I want to make this song special in a way that you can tell.
That it's solely for you and nobody else
for my best friend, my lover, when I need help - cliche - cliche?
Everything I want to say to you is wrapped up in an old cliche
I'd waited so long to find you, I'd been through the heartbreak and pain,
but of course you already know that cos you've been throught the same.
That's why I'm trying to say with my deepest sincerity
that's why I'm finding it comes down to the basic simplicities
the best way is with an old cliche
it's simply the best way is with an old cliche
always the best way is with an old cliche
I'll leave it to the best way, it's an old cliche
I love you .


Fuck sake.........note to self never fall again !

[Chinaski]

Hilarious lyrics, this band:

They came from the sun
From the east, from the west all around
So fate's die is cast
They marshaled their forces and found us at last
So it's come to this
The child is the destroyer
The young god comes to slay

War

Son kill the father
For blackness is all that i crave
Shells explode across my hide
Take me death, i am your slave
For i don't have soul
And i don't have a heart
Come then and face me
But first you must suffer my wrath

Hatred of all things alive
War is all we know

They say war is a last resort
For me it's the only way
I have tried reading their poetry
It suits me better to slay
All that i touch seems to break in my hands
Then it just bursts into flames
The piteous pleadings as innocents die
Only an odor remains
So burn the bitter butter
Prepare the murder machines
Bring me my scabbard, my halberd, my hauberk
Fetch me my enchanted greaves
My walls they are melting
The drugs they aren't helping
Is it time for the old gods to die?
To arms is the only cry

Hatred of all things alive
War is all we know
The humans must feast on their gods
We know it fucking blows

Hatred is a seed that's easy to sow
Buckets of blood will help it to grow
And raised on high, the fetid throne
Death is fate's master, he sits alone

They say war is all we know
If only that were true
No matter how i work my schedule
There's always other things that i do
But excuse me now, there's a tank at the door
And that slave's head just rolled cross the floor
He tries to say something and that something is puke
Right about then the pigs set off a nuke

War is all we know
Hatred

When i said i loved war, i lied
It fucking sucks on the losing side
And speaking of which, my face is on fire
A lightning withdrawl, we quickly retire
A flury of carnage, my brainpan is nicked
To my unending shame, my ass just got kicked
And as the shells fall in a relentless hail
The fortress was gutted and we had to bail

[Thinking Aloud]

He's quick with a joke,
And to light up your smoke,
But there's someplace that he'd rather be.

He says, "Bill I believe this is killing me,"
As a smile ran away from his face,
For I'm sure that I could be a movie star,
If I could get out of this place.

[klr]

Got a call from an old friend
We used to be real close
Said he couldn't go on the American way
Closed the shop, sold the house
Bought a ticket to the West Coast
Now he gives them a stand-up routine in L.A.

'Spooky coincidence' indeed ...

[Bella Fortuna]

I may not always love you
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
I'll make you so sure about it

God only knows what I'd be without you

[klr]

From Pet Sounds ... I believe I posted a song from that in the "... listening" thread a few days ago.

[Thinking Aloud]

Watching and waiting
For a friend to play with,
Why have I been alone so long?
Mole he is burrowing his way to the sunlight,
He knows there's some there so strong.

'Cos here there's lots of room for doing
The things you've always been denied,
So look and gather all you want to,
Theres no one here to stop you trying.

Soon you will see me,
'Cos I'll be all around you,
But where I come from I can't tell.
But don't be alarmed by my fields and my forests,
They're here for only you to share.

'Cos here there's lots of room for doing
The things you've always been denied,
So look and gather all you want to,
Theres no one here to stop you trying.

Watching and waiting
For someone to understand me,
I hope it won't be very long.

Watching and Waiting (Hayward) The Moody Blues.

[Bella Fortuna]

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you

And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

[klr]

I listened to that only two hours ago.

EDIT: And I may listen to it again ...

[Bella Fortuna]

It's a marvellous song...