I see your soul, its kinda greyBad grammar chorus and title, sung as seriously as Scott Stapp could muster, capped off with this pseudo-Christian band using "god damn" in their lyrics ("don't have to settle no god damn score").
You see my heart, you look away
You see my wrist, I know your pain
I know your purpose on your plane
Don't say a last prayer
Because you could never find
What's this life for
What's this life for
What's this life for
What's this life for

Don'tThen again, that's from the same mind that produced "The Black Hit of Space / Sucking in the human race..."
Don't you want me
You know I can't believe it when they say that you won't see me
Staring at a photograph of me at sixteen yearsBut it's a hauntingly pretty song, and the lyrics out of context tell you jack shit about that.
I can still remember those feelings so new to me
Astronauts have landed on the moon
To-day there is nothing left to do
Well, shake it up, you're to blame, got me swayin' little honeyHe violates the "soul" rule with impunity (on consecutive song titles, no less ..."Sweet Soul Sister" and "Soul Asylum")...example:
My heart's a ball of burnin' flame
Oh, yes it is
Trancing like a cat on a hot tin shack
Lord, have mercy
Come on little sister
Come on and shake it
So many times I call your name, ooh baby, baby, pleaseThe hands down winner, though (thanks to "soul" lyric violations, bad poetry, incomplete sentences ended with "yeah", mixed metaphors, and a healthy dose of rock'n'roll gibberish..."New York City":
So many times I call your name, ooh yeah
Before the night is through
Grant me one last wish
Sweet soul asylum, yeah
An everlasting kiss
Oh, New York CityIf it's bad lyrics you're looking for, it gets no better than that, folks.
Oh, New York City, yeah, yeah
New York City, yeah
Oh, New York City, well, well
Hell's Kitchen is a DMZ
I'm never coming back, no
Disneyland, trash can baby, yeah
It'll give you a heart attack
The Times Square shuffle, Manhattan flip
Twenty four hour groove
Working up a frenzy baby
People push on through, yeah
Listen boy
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I jumped across the ocean
Found a Big Apple
So I took a bite
She teased me with a taste
Laid my soul to waste
Stabbed me in the back
Hell's Kitchen is a crazy place
I'm never coming back, no no no
Hell's Kitchen is a DMZ
I ain't never, never, yeah
Oh, New York City
Wake up, yeah, in the New York City
Well, New York City, yeah, yeah
New York City
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Shake it up, do it now
Shake it up, bells ringing
I'm shooting on the hip now
I'm shooting on the hip now, baby
I'm shooting on the hip now
Oh, New York City
ARTIST: The DoorsApparently there is some disagreement about the lyric. Is there an authoritative source?
TITLE: Riders on the Storm
Lyrics and Chords
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone, an actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
/ Em A Em7 A / / Am Bm C D / Em A Em7 A / D - C - / 1st /
They call me Mr. Knowitall
I am so eloquent.
Perfection is my middle name
and whatever rhymes with eloquent
"...And in the streets: the children screamed,I smashed hundreds of dollars worth of radios all through 1973 on account of that piece of, uh, Americana.
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died. ..."
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story of my life
posted by Meatbomb at 4:05 AM on July 21, 2006