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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:46 pm
Stop stalling, make a name for yourself Boy, you better put that pen to paper and charm your way out If you talk, you better walk You better back your s**t up With more than good hooks While you're all under the gun Start talking "a sensationalist" Oh, he's slightly clever to just a certain extent If you talk, you better walk You better keep your mouth shut With more than good hooks While you're all under the gun
Panic! Meet the Press It's time for us to take a chance It's time for us to take a chance Panic! Meet the Press It's time for us to take a chance It's time for us
Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines Make us it Make us hip Make us scene Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote
Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines Make us it Make us hip Make us scene Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote
I'm burning and I'm blacking my lungs Boy, you know it feels good with fire back on your tongue If you talk, you better walk You better back your s**t up With more than good hooks While you're all under the gun Start talking "a sensationalist" Oh, he's slightly clever to just a certain extent. Oh, keep quiet! Let us sing like the doves Then decide if it's done with purpose or lack thereof
Just for the record The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of A. Indifference and B. Disinterest in what the critics say
It's time for us to take a chance It's time for us
Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines Make us it Make us hip Make us scene Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote
Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines Make us it Make us hip Make us scene Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote
Just for the record The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of A. Indifference and B. Disinterest in what the critics say
Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines Make us it Make us hip Make us scene Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote
Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines Make us it Make us hip Make us scene Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote
Just for the record The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of A. Indifference and B. Disinterest in what the critics say
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:48 pm
Please leave all overcoats, canes, and top hats with the doorman And from that moment, you'll be out of place and underdressed I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and
Please leave all overcoats, canes, and top hats with the doorman And from that moment, you'll be out of place and underdressed I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and
When you're in black slacks with accentuating off-white pinstripes, whoa-oh Everything goes according to plan
I'm the new cancer, never looked better And you can't stand it I know because you say so under your breath You're reading lips, "When did he get at all confident?" Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer? Never looked better And you can't stand it
Next is a trip to the ladies room in vain I bet you just can't keep up with these fashionistas Tonight, tonight, you are, you are the whispering campaign To them, your name is "Cheap", and you look like sh-- Talk to the mirror, choke back tears And keep telling yourself that, "I'm a diva."
Oh, and the smokes in that cigarette box at your table They just so happen to be laced with nitroglycerin
I'm the new cancer, never looked better And you can't stand it I know because you say so under your breath You're reading lips, "When did he get at all confident?" Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer? Never looked better And you can't stand it
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer? I've never looked better and you can't stand it Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer? I've never looked better and you can't stand it
And I know, and I know It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up I've never been so surreptitious So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch And I know, and I know It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up I've never been so surreptitious So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch And I know, and I know It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up I've never been so surreptitious So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:52 pm
Sit tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time C'mon, just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me Good, good, now we're making some progress Come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat
And I believe This may call for a proper introduction, and well Don't you see? I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue
Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention I aim to be your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
Applause, applause, no, wait, wait Dear studio audience, I've an announcement to make It seems the artists these days are not who you think So we'll pick back up on that on another page
And I believe This may call for a proper introduction, and well Don't you see? I'm the narrator and this is just the prologue
Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
Swear to shake it up, you swear to listen Swear to shake it up, you swear to listen Swear to shake it up, you swear to listen Swear to shake it up, swear to shake it up
Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives Swear to shake it up, and you swear to listen Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:53 pm
Wind passes right through my skin as I fall down this furious speed will only destroy me. Crippling and devastating momentum, approaching maximum velocity.
And this is how it's going to be, the point of it all. 'Cause this is what was meant for me, recklessly I fall.
Hulking, smashing, I come crashing, nothing like when I was small. I am unstoppable, I am the cannonball. That feeble coward that you knew, has undergone an overhaul. I am unstoppable, I am the cannonball.
Thirty-two feet per second I increase, as the exponents will multiply. I'll never stop to look back behind me cutting through the bright blue sky.
And this is how it's meant to be, untethered I will soar. I'll barrel towards the earth below, it's what I was made for.
And everyone will say it's just an , like some mishap or a tragedy. I think that failure has a purpose, and I don't believe it's chance if I fall. And I know that if I ever do fall, He will catch me. And if He ever lets me fall down, for the good of those who believe Him, He will make me into a cannonball.
Unblemished, and faultless. A burning luminescence. Unequaled precision, beyond your scope of vision.
Cannonball.
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:54 pm
Up from the sands of the mighty Sahara comes, Our hero bold, who so it's told, is a lot like you and me. His passion burns, the world it turns, He fills his hand to fill the void, And fuels the constant feeling, Of nothingness inside his soul. Feels like nothing ever did. Kills like nothing ever could. Dark and jaded world I hated, Everything I left behind. I don't need you, and I don't want you, World that left me blind. Beneath the sands of the mighty Sahara lies, Buried treasure sunken deep, in darkened tombs where dead men sleep. Gold fills hands, or is it sand, The same that covers everything? Where cities stood, soon deserts found, Now sink beneath the swelling ground. Feels like nothing ever did. Kills like nothing ever could. Dark and jaded world I hated, Everything I left behind. I don't need you, and I don't want you, World that left me blind. This world is for the taking, This world is suffocating. Plastic bags of Novocaine, Some PCP to kill the pain. Build a tomb to store your rust, Moth-eaten piles of blowing dust. Under the sands of the mighty Sahara, Goes our hero bold, in search of gold, a casket for a dying world. Our hero stands, wealth in hand, The prize for his endeavors. The masses cheer, to hide their fears That no man lives forever. Feels like nothing ever did. Kills like nothing ever could. Dark and jaded world I hated, Everything I left behind. I don't need you, and I don't want you, World that left me blind.
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:55 pm
I've got pocketfuls of crumpled receipts, just about enough to start a fire. I'll watch the past just burn away. Put the mic stand through the amplifier.
Put the bass down bass down, one time, snap the neck now. Drum set, smash it. Kick the kick drum, one time, kicked in, smashed up, break it, break up.
See the flames begin to crawl, upward. Taste the anguish as they fall, unheard. Hear the record start to skip, unsung. Feel the weight that sunk the ship, so young.
I've got notebooks full of misshapen words, I'll never speak them anymore. Ten years from now, you won't know my name. Throw the microphone down on the floor.
Put the guitar, guitar, one time, through the speaker, splintered, broken. Throw the horns down, one time, horns down, smash them, break them, break up.
The crowds recoil, demand our survival, fists in the air, mouths caked with saliva. But you are the one, the spark that was spawned, who picks up the pieces, and passes it on.
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:56 pm
Here the man draws the line for separation. (Old Vision). Watch the man build up his walls for isolation. (You make division). Walk no mile, I'm sick and tired, of all the cowards at the radio station. No cathartic plot to thicken, to quote the vernacular, I'd say that you're chicken. chorus We're going nowhere, and it's happening fast, a dim future, and a darker past. Somewhere away from here, from past mistakes they often learn, at Fahrenheit 451, you close your doors and let it burn. Pharisees in the church, time to take a vacation. (Emancipation). Pharisees think the world comes to them for salvation. (Booyah). The radio is preaching the candy coated goo, the record companies and the TV too. No one rocks the boat, terrified of trouble, can't tamper with the walls of their sterile Christian bubble. It was never your point to get people saved, you pad yourself with fluff just because you're afraid. I'm not afraid to point the finger now, the choir's so used to the preaching anyhow.
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:58 pm
Summer of 1978 My sister and I in the back seat just wait. We pass the time by making lines on the seat that we can't cross, A thin line like dental floss.
She threw my new blue comb out the window, somewhere on I-70. Dad said, "I'm sorry, but we can't go back," We're never going back to get it. It was the first comb I ever had. Got it just that morning from my mom and my dad. Light blue in color, I could never have another, comb like that, big and fat...
So tell me, have you seen my comb? Last time I saw it, it was in her hands, And then it was bouncing down the road. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown, But now it might be from lying on the ground. So tell me, have you seen my comb?
Driving down the road in September, I was only five but I still remember, Where the highway turns at the bottom of the hill, My parents both up front 'cause they loved each other still. Maybe just a comb made of plastic, Or an action of a sibling lacking couth, But something that was thrown out that window, Was the last great symbol of my youth.
Have you seen my comb? Last time I saw it, it was in her hands, And then it was bouncing down the road. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown, But now it might be from lying on the ground. So tell me, have you seen my comb?
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:00 pm
a note from keith: An ode to The Mighty Mighty Bosstones
Give me back my sandwich!
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:01 pm
.sdneirf tseb eht ekam yeht :sehciwdnaS
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping. Long ago I heard that sound, often lost, but seldom found, a haunting voice from minutes past, Micah had returned at last.
And I was like, "What's up dude?" And he was like, "Uhhh, I found your comb." And then I was like, "Shut-Up!" And then he was like, "Yeah, and stuff." And then I was like, "Rock on!"
And that's how the story ends, now you hear the score my friends. We're finding answers, we're setting trends. I guess that's how the story ends.
How distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and each dying ember, wrought its ghost upon the floor. I heard a voice that chilled my spine, I saw what I could not define, a sight I never could contrive, there stood Brad at last, alive. "Where have you been these endless years?" I asked him, sobbing through my tears. "I did not die by plague or prison, what really died is cynicism."
And then I said, "Awesome." And he was like, "Yeah, I guess. And by the way, those pants, they belong to my dad. And they're not really pants, they're leiderhosen." Hooray!
And Combat Chuck has passed away, his dying wish was "Never play that song again". And Kitty-Doggy's put to sleep, the dinosaurs lay in a heap, as they slowly go extinct, like me.
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Misu-Goddess Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:04 pm
Hahaha. You smell liek poo. C:
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:04 pm
Here lies the old myth, breaking the mold with, truth to take away the trickery. Twenty centuries of progress, suffer slowly as we regress, losing headway to ourselves.
Behold the covers, the sisters, the mothers, the daughters, and spouses, on the magazines. Truth has been abused. How could she fill those shoes? Propaganda meant to fuel their schemes.
She is strong but never silent, sure of where her truth/strength comes from, one day, one girl army will overcome.
Treading the current, issues at hand, Shifting, we sway, from justice and then back again. What we once broke, He has made right, lifting her up, giving birth to Jesus Christ.
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:04 pm
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:05 pm
Misu-Goddess Hahaha. You smell liek poo. C: Your a poo. :>
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 8:06 pm
Give us this day our daily dose of faux affliction Forgive our sins forged at the pulpit With forked tongues selling faux sermons Because I am a new wave gospel sharp And you'll be thy witness So gentlemen, if you're gonna preach For God sakes preach with conviction
Strike up the band Oh, the conductor is beckoning Come, congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it No, don't you get it, don't you get it? Now don't you move
Strike up the band Oh, the conductor is beckoning Come, congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it No, don't you get it, don't you get it? Now don't you move
Just stay where I can see you Douse the lights
We sure are in for a show tonight
In this little number we are graced by two displays of character We've got the gunslinger extraordinaire And a walking contradiction Because I for one can see no blood from their hearts Or the wrists you allegedly slit And I for one won't stand for this If this scene were a parish you'd all be condemned
Strike up the band Oh, the conductor is beckoning Come, congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it No, don't you get it, don't you get it? Now don't you move
Strike up the band Oh, the conductor is beckoning Come, congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it No, don't you get it, don't you get it? Now don't you, don't you move
Just stay where I can see you Douse the lights We sure are in for a show tonight Just stay where I can see you Douse the lights We sure are in for a show tonight Stay where I can see you Douse the lights
Strike up the band Oh, the conductor is beckoning Come, congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it No, don't you get it, don't you get it? Now don't you move
Strike up the band Oh, the conductor is beckoning Come, congregation, and let's sing it like you mean it No, don't you get it, don't you get it? Now don't you move Don't you move Don't you move Strike up the band
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