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| Jarnis86 | 2009-01-11 07:31 | |
 | Massa "e" och lite särskrivningar vart det visst, men ändå :) | |
| oeronbarn - Ej medlem längre | 2009-01-11 14:50 | |
 | When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong And lonesome comes up as down goes the day And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin' And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin' And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin' And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin' And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin' And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin' And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm And to yourself you sometimes say "I never knew it was gonna be this way Why didn't they tell me the day I was born" And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin' And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet And you need it badly but it lays on the street And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat And you think yer ears might a been hurt Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush And all the time you were holdin' three queens And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean Like in the middle of Life magazine Bouncin' around a pinball machine And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying That somebody someplace oughta be hearin' But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed And no matter how you try you just can't say it And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth And his jaws start closin with you underneath And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign And you say to yourself just what am I doin' On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin' On this curve I'm hanging On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking In this air I'm inhaling Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard Why am I walking, where am I running What am I saying, what am I knowing On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin' On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin' In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin' In the words that I'm thinkin' In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin' Who am I helping, what am I breaking What am I giving, what am I taking But you try with your whole soul best Never to think these thoughts and never to let Them kind of thoughts gain ground Or make yer heart pound But then again you know why they're around Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down "Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin' And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking If that was you in the dream that was screaming And you know that it's something special you're needin' And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin' And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding And you need something special Yeah, you need something special all right You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track To shoot you someplace and shoot you back You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler That's been banging and booming and blowing forever That knows yer troubles a hundred times over You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race That won't laugh at yer looks Your voice or your face And by any number of bets in the book Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze You need something to open up a new door To show you something you seen before But overlooked a hundred times or more You need something to open your eyes You need something to make it known That it's you and no one else that owns That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting That the world ain't got you beat That it ain't got you licked It can't get you crazy no matter how many Times you might get kicked You need something special all right You need something special to give you hope But hope's just a word That maybe you said or maybe you heard On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve But that's what you need man, and you need it bad And yer trouble is you know it too good "Cause you look an' you start getting the chills "Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill And it ain't on Macy's window sill And it ain't on no rich kid's road map And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ And it ain't on that dimlit stage With that half-wit comedian on it Ranting and raving and taking yer money And you thinks it's funny No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club And it ain't in the seats of a supper club And sure as hell you're bound to tell That no matter how hard you rub You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you And it ain't in no cardboard-box house Or down any movie star's blouse And you can't find it on the golf course And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin' Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry When you can't even sense if they got any insides These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows No you'll not now or no other day Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache´ And inside it the people made of molasses That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny Who breathe and burp and bend and crack And before you can count from one to ten Do it all over again but this time behind yer back My friend The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl And play games with each other in their sand-box world And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools That run around gallant And make all rules for the ones that got talent And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do And think they're foolin' you The ones who jump on the wagon Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style To get their kicks, get out of it quick And make all kinds of money and chicks And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel Good God Almighty THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL" No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face You gotta look some other place And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin' Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin' Where do you look for this oil well gushin' Where do you look for this candle that's glowin' Where do you look for this hope that you know is there And out there somewhere And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways You can touch and twist And turn two kinds of doorknobs You can either go to the church of your choice Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital You'll find God in the church of your choice You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital And though it's only my opinion I may be right or wrong You'll find them both In the Grand Canyon At sundown | |
| skaune - Ej medlem längre | 2009-03-26 13:15 | |
| To you everything was just a game And oh yeah you played me good But I want you, I want you, I want you so much more than I should | |
| pennyjenny | 2009-03-26 13:43 | |
 | I just can´t give up now. Come too far from where I started from. | |
| dilivio | 2009-03-26 15:58 | |
| well it's a beautiful day to fade away, to take a stand and show them all you're not just one more common man and idiot rules, idiots rule that's the only thing that will never change that will never fade David & The Citizens - I've been floating upstream since we parted | |
| Evisaur | 2009-03-26 22:56 | |
 | There's something inside me that feels like breathing in Sulfur. Sulfur - Slipknot. | |
| anneli72 - Ej medlem längre | 2009-03-27 00:00 | |
| Jag tänkte just skriva det som skaune skrev. Men jag får tänka om. Och tänka rätt. | |
| Andréus - Ej medlem längre | 2009-03-27 00:11 | |
| I hear you're one in a million, but there's a million of you. The Hives - You dress up for Armageddon | |
| Smichael | 2009-03-27 01:07 | |
 | "I wandered drunken down the beach, the waves just whispered misery" The Pogues - Sayonara "Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free" Bob Dylan - Mr. Tambourine Man =) | |
| missundersto | 2009-03-27 01:47 | |
 | Whiskey Lullaby - Brad Paisley & Alison Krauss She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind Until the night He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger And finally drank away her memory Life is short but this time it was bigger Than the strength he had to get up off his knees We found him with his face down in the pillow With a note that said I'll love her till I die And when we buried him beneath the willow The angels sang a whiskey lullaby The rumors flew but nobody know how much she blamed herself For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath She finally drank her pain away a little at a time But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind Until the night She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger And finally drank away his memory Life is short but this time it was bigger Than the strength she had to get up off her knees We found her with her face down in the pillow Clinging to his picture for dear life We laid her next to him beneath the willow While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby | |
| godrevypoint | 2009-04-06 23:40 | |
 | what is worthwhile in the world if you can't be with the one you love? broder daniel - no time for us | |
| godrevypoint | 2009-04-06 23:43 | |
| Åh, hjärtat slår Det slår skiten ur mig Parken - Låt mig följa dig ner | |
| Tinna | 2009-09-08 19:28 | |
 | And if you want me to be real deep, I'll hook you up with some poetry, Roses are red and violets are blue, They both look pretty good baby girl, but then so do you.. [....] Even though I know it can't be us I'm not sad. 'Cause you're simply the best thing I never had.. | |
| Dogface | 2009-09-08 20:20 | |
| citat från filmen Bad Boy Bubby: Bubby: Jesus can see everything I do... and he's going to beat me brainless! The Scientist: You see, no one's going to help you Bubby, because there isn't anybody out there to do it. No one. We're all just complicated arrangements of atoms and subatomic particles - we don't live. But our atoms do move about in such a way as to give us identity and consciousness. We don't die; our atoms just rearrange themselves. There is no God. There can be no God; it's ridiculous to think in terms of a superior being. An inferior being, maybe, because we, we who don't even exist, we arrange our lives with more order and harmony than God ever arranged the earth. We measure; we plot; we create wonderful new things. We are the architects of our own existence. What a lunatic concept to bow down before a God who slaughters millions of innocent children, slowly and agonizingly starves them to death, beats them, tortures them, rejects them. What folly to even think that we should not insult such a God, damn him, think him out of existence. It is our duty to think God out of existence. It is our duty to insult him. Fuck you, God! Strike me down if you dare, you tyrant, you non-existent fraud! It is the duty of all human beings to think God out of existence. Then we have a future. Because then - and only then - do we take full responsibility for who we are. And that's what you must do, Bubby: think God out of existence; take responsibility for who you are. | |
| LaFinDuTemps | 2009-09-10 00:43 | |
 | "...Does it bother me at all, my rival is neanthertal. It makes me think, perhaps I need a drink. IQ is no problem here, we wont be playing scrabble for her hand I fear. I need that beer." Seven days - Sting Grym låt! Och med scrabble-anknytning. | |
| anneli72 - Ej medlem längre | 2009-09-10 01:07 | |
| Nohing compares to you-sinead o..connors | |
| Yinyanggurl - Ej medlem längre | 2009-09-12 07:38 | |
| An old man turned ninety-eight He won the lottery and died the next day It's a black fly in your Chardonnay It's a death row pardon two minutes too late Isn't it ironic ... don't you think It's like rain on your wedding day It's a free ride when you've already paid It's the good advice that you just didn't take Who would've thought ... it figures Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye He waited his whole damn life to take that flight And as the plane crashed down he thought 'Well isn't this nice...' And isn't it ironic ... don't you think Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you When you think everything's okay and everything's going right And life has a funny way of helping you out when You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up In your face It's a traffic jam when you're already late It's a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife It's meeting the man of my dreams And then meeting his beautiful wife Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you | |
| Yinyanggurl - Ej medlem längre | 2009-09-12 07:38 | |
| "Ironic" med Alanis Morisette var det. Sorry att jag missade att skriva det i förra inlägget. | |
| Tinna | 2009-09-12 07:46 | |
| How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here. Pink Floyd - Wish you were here | |
| Mammaoxå | 2009-09-12 08:47 | |
| Jag vet att hundra år från nu, kommer det alltid vara du. När jag blundar. Martin Stenmark | |
