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**newwriter** · 02-02-2008, 03:28 AM

Fucking rubbish - just my opinion though

**mirimark** · 02-02-2008, 03:31 AM

I saw her today at a reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

No, you can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need

I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she was gonna meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need

Oh yeah, hey hey hey, oh...

And I went down to the demonstration
To get my fair share of abuse
Singing, "We're gonna vent our frustration
If we don't we're gonna blow a 50-amp fuse"
Sing it to me now...

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you just might find
You get what you need
Oh baby, yeah, yeah!

I went down to the Chelsea drugstore
To get your prescription filled
I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
And man, did he look pretty ill
We decided that we would have a soda
My favorite flavor, cherry red
I sung my song to Mr. Jimmy
Yeah, and he said one word to me, and that was "dead"
I said to him

You can't always get what you want, no!
You can't always get what you want (tell ya baby)
You can't always get what you want (no)
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You get what you need
Oh yes! Woo!

You get what you need--yeah, oh baby!
Oh yeah!

I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need

You can't always get what you want (no, no baby)
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need, ah yes...

**newwriter** · 02-02-2008, 03:46 AM

I like the Stones but it's the song not the lyrics that make it for me.

**mirimark** · 02-02-2008, 03:51 AM

(newwriter @ Feb. 02 2008,11:46) I like the Stones but it's the song not the lyrics that make it for me.

Sorry bro, what I said above was a Little harsh.
I'll Delete it.
Sorry.
Mark.

**thaibound** · 02-02-2008, 06:36 AM

(mirimark @ Feb. 01 2008,21:31) You can't always get what you want

while its lyrics suffer from both a typical rock redundancy as well as an artificially forced ellipsism, the song itself is, imho, is one of the top five greatest rock tunes of all time.
if that's , my apologies.

**thaibound** · 02-02-2008, 06:42 AM

My life is changing
in so many ways
I don't know who
to trust anymore
There's a shadow running
thru my days
Like a beggar going
from door to door.

I was thinking that
maybe I'd get a maid
Find a place nearby
for her to stay.
Just someone
to keep my house clean,
Fix my meals and go away.

A maid. A man needs a maid.
A maid.

It's hard to make that change
When life and love
turns strange.
And old.

To give a love,
you gotta live a love.
To live a love,
you gotta be "part of"
When will I see you again?

A while ago somewhere
I don't know when
I was watching
a movie with a friend.
I fell in love with the actress.
She was playing a part
that I could understand.

A maid. A man needs a maid.
A maid.

When will I see you again?

**newwriter** · 02-02-2008, 08:07 AM

I actually really like this song but the lyrics are something special.

Aussie Crawl were a great Aussie band of the 80's but this was their lyrical low point.

Wanna tell you 'bout my Frenda
He got hit by a Fender
But he'll soon be on the menda
He's of the male genda

Glad to see that he's on his way
He's not for Burial today

Because he's in... he's indisposed
Because he's in yeah yeah... he's indisposed

Found him outside the dry cleaners
Oh the drivers misdemeanors
I've never seen a face so greena
He looks a like the cats dinner

Glad to see that he's on his way
He's not for Burial today

Because he's in... he's indisposed
Because he's in yeah yeah... he's indisposed

He got hit by a car
Now he's lying on the tar
Had an experience bizarre
Not unlike that makes you laugh ra! ra! hey!

Glad to see that he's on his way
He's not for Burial today

Because he's in... he's indisposed
Because he's in... he's indisposed
Because he's in yeah yeah... he's indisposed

**newwriter** · 02-02-2008, 08:08 AM

For the best, look no further than the Boss at his best on Born to Run:

One soft infested summer me and Terry became friends
Trying in vain to breathe the fire we was born in
Catching rides to the outskirts tying faith between our teeth
Sleeping in that old abandoned beach house getting wasted in the heat
And hiding on the backstreets, hiding on the backstreets
With a love so hard and filled with defeat
Running for our lives at night on them backstreets

Slow dancing in the dark on the beach at Stockton's Wing
Where desperate lovers park we sat with the last of the Duke Street Kings
Huddled in our cars waiting for the bells that ring
In the deep heart of the night to set us loose from everything
to go running on the backstreets, running on the backstreets
We swore we'd live forever on the backstreets we take it together

Endless juke joints and Valentino drag where dancers scraped the tears
Up off the street dressed down in rags running into the darkness
Some hurt bad some really dying at night sometimes it seemed
You could hear the whole damn city crying blame it on the lies that killed us
Blame it on the truth that ran us down you can blame it all on me Terry
It don't matter to me now when the breakdown hit at midnight
There was nothing left to say but I hated him and I hated you when you went away

Laying here in the dark you're like an angel on my chest
Just another tramp of hearts crying tears of faithlessness
Remember all the movies, Terry, we'd go see
Trying to learn how to walk like heroes we thought we had to be
And after all this time to find we're just like all the rest
Stranded in the park and forced to confess
To hiding on the backstreets, hiding on the backstreets
We swore forever friends on the backstreets until the end
Hiding on the backstreets, hiding on the backstreets.

AND

The screen door slams
Mary's dress waves
Like a vision she dances across the porch
As the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside
darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright
Oh and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers
And study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers
Throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero
That's understood
All the redemption I can offer, girl
Is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now
Except roll down the window
And let the wind blow back your hair
Well the night's busting open
These two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back
Heaven's waiting on down the tracks
Oh oh come take my hand
Riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh oh Thunder Road, oh Thunder Road
oh Thunder Road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey I know it's late we can make it if we run
Oh Thunder Road, sit tight take hold
Thunder Road

Well I got this guitar
And I learned how to make it talk
And my car's out back
If you're ready to take that long walk
>From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open but the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely
For words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free
All the promises'll be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes
Of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road
In the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets

They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they're gone
On the wind, so Mary climb in
It's a town full of losers
And I'm pulling out of here to win

**Guest** · 02-02-2008, 08:34 AM

Agreed.

**Guest** · 02-02-2008, 10:43 AM

This one is for you Franck .

I knew a girl named Nikki
I guess you could say she was a sex friend
I met her in a hotel lobby
masturbating with a magazine
she said how'd u like 2 waste sometime
& I could not resist when I saw little
Nikki gind
she took me 2 her castle
and I just couldn't believe
my eyes
she had so many devicees
everything that money could buy
she said sign your name on the dotted
line
the lights went out
and Nikki started 2 grind
The castle started spinning
or maybe it was my brain
I can't tell you what she did 2 me
but my body will never be the same
Her lovin will kick your behind
she'll show you no mercy
but she'll sho'nuff sho'nuff sho a
low 2 grind
I woke up the next mourning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over
all I found was a phone number on the
stairs
it said thank u 4 a funky time
call me whenever u want
2 grind
come back Nikki come back
Your darling little prince
wanna grind,grind,grind.

Sometimes the world's a storm.
One day soon the storm will pass
& all will be bright and peaceful.
fearlessly bathe in the...
Purple Rain

**PigDogg** · 02-02-2008, 05:35 PM

Pretty cool when the church organ plays You Can't Always Get What You Want in the Big Chill.

But most rock lyrics are pretty lame IMO. But it's not really fair to look at the lyrics in isolation from the music.

I think Cole Porter wrote some clever lyrics.

You're The Top, one of his simplest, is interesting because it's so simple; just about anyone can easily write new verses.

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best,
Instead of getting 'em off my chest,
To let 'em rest unexpressed,
I hate parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty
At least it'll tell you
How great you are.

You're the top!
You're the Coliseum.
You're the top!
You're the Louver Museum.
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You're a Bendel bonnet,
A Shakespeare's sonnet,
You're Mickey Mouse.
You're the Nile,
You're the Tower of Pisa,
You're the smile on the Mona Lisa
I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop,
But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top!

Your words poetic are not pathetic.
On the other hand, babe, you shine,
And I can feel after every line
A thrill divine
Down my spine.
Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
Might think that your song is bad,
But I got a notion
I'll second the motion
And this is what I'm going to add;

You're the top!
You're Mahatma Gandhi.
You're the top!
You're Napoleon Brandy.
You're the purple light
Of a summer night in Spain,
You're the National Gallery
You're Garbo's salary,
You're cellophane.
You're sublime,
You're turkey dinner,
You're the time, the time of a Derby winner
I'm a toy balloon that’s fated soon to pop
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top!
You're an arrow collar
You're the top!
You're a Coolidge dollar,
You're the nimble tread
Of the feet of Fred Astaire,
You're an O'Neill drama,

You're Whistler's mama!

You're camembert.

You're a rose,
You're Inferno's Dante,

You're the nose
On the great Durante.
I'm just in a way,
As the French would say, "de trop".
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top!
You're a dance in Bali.
You're the top!
You're a hot tamale.
You're an angel, you,
Simply too, too, too diveen,
You're a Boticcelli,
You're Keats,
You're Shelly!

You're Ovaltine!
You're a boom,
You're the dam at Boulder,
You're the moon,
Over Mae West's shoulder,
I'm the nominee of the G.O.P.

But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top!
You're a Waldorf salad.
You're the top!
You're a Berlin ballad.
You're the boats that glide
On the sleepy Zuider Zee,
You're an old Dutch master,

You're Lady Astor,
You're broccoli!
You're romance,
You're the steppes of Russia,
You're the pants, on a Roxy usher,
I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop,

But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

**PigDogg** · 02-02-2008, 05:39 PM

(PigDogg @ Feb. 02 2008,10:35) You're The Top, one of his simplest, is interesting because it's so simple; just about anyone can easily write new verses.

So back in the day, it was fashinable to write risque lyrics to that tune. For instance:

You're the top.
You're Miss Pinkham's tonic.
You're the top.
You're a high colonic.
You're the burning heat of a bridal suite in use.
You're the breasts of Venus,
You're King Kong's penis,
You're self-abuse!
You're an arch from the Rome collection.
You're the starch in a groom's erection.
I'm a eunuch that has undergone an "op."
But if, baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top!

**mirimark** · 02-02-2008, 05:43 PM

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**jimslim** · 02-02-2008, 06:22 PM

I like Punk ,
I like Sham ,
I got nicked for fighting at West Ham .

They dont write them like that anymore

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