Favourite Song lyrics


#184

#185

https://youtu.be/TeErlCbO2mM
“Standing In The Breach” - Jackson Browne

And though the earth may tremble and our foundations crack
We will all assemble and we will build them back
And rush to save the lives remaining still within our reach
And try to put our world together standing in the breach

So many live in poverty while others live as kings
Though some may find peace
In the acceptance of all that living brings
I will never understand however they’ve prepared
How one life may be struck down and another life be spared

And though the earth may tremble and cast our works aside
And though our efforts resemble the fluctuating tide
We rise and fall with the trust and belief
That love redeems us each
And bend our backs and hearts together standing in the breach

You don’t know why it’s such a far cry
From the world this world could be
You don’t know why but you still try
For the world you wish to see
You don’t know how it will happen now
After all that’s come undone
But you know the change the world needs now
Is there, in everyone

The unpaid debts of history
The open wounds of time
The laws of human nature always tugging from behind
I want to think that the earth can heal
And that people might still learn
How to meet this world’s true challenges
And that the course we’re on could turn

And though the earth may tremble and the oceans pitch and rise
We will all assemble and we will lift our eyes
To the tasks that we know lie before us
And the power our prayers beseech
And cast our souls into the heavens, standing in the breach

You don’t know why it’s such a far cry
From the world this world could be
You don’t know why but you still try
For the world you wish to see
You don’t know how it’s going to happen now
After all that’s come undone
And you know the world you’re waiting for may not come
No it may not come
But you know the change the world needs now
Is there, in everyone


#186


"Long Road Out Of Eden" - The Eagles

Moon shining down through the palms
Shadows moving on the sand
Somebody whispering the twenty-third psalm
Dusty rifle in his trembling hands

Somebody trying just to stay alive
He got promises to keep
Over the ocean in america
Far away and fast asleep

Silent stars blinking in the blackness of an endless sky
Cold silver satellites, ghostly caravans passing by
Galaxies unfolding, new worlds being born
Pilgrims and prodigals creeping toward the dawn
But it’s a long road out of eden

Music blasting from an suv
On a bright and sunny day
Rolling down the interstate
In the good ol’ usa

Having lunch at the petroleum club
Smokin’ fine cigars and swappin’ lives
He said: “gimme ‘nother slice o’ that barbecued brisket!”
“gimme ‘nother piece o’ that pecan pie!”

Freeways flickering, cell phones chiming a tune
We’re riding to utopia, road map says we’ll be arriving soon
Captains of the old order clinging to the reins
Assuring us these aches inside are only growing pains
But it’s a long road out of eden

Back home i was so certain
The path was very clear
But now i have to wonder: "what are we doing here?"
I’m not counting on tomorrow
And i can’t tell wrong from right
But i’d give anything to be there in your arms tonight

Weaving down the american highway
Through the litter and the wreckage and the cultural junk
Bloated with entitlement, loaded on propaganda
And now we’re driving dazed and drunk

Been down the road to damascus,
The road to mandalay
Met the ghost of caesar on the appian way
He said, “it’s hard to stop this bingeing, once you get a taste.”
“but the road to empire is a bloody stupid waste.”

Behold the bitten apple - the power of the tools
But all the knowledge in the world is of no use to fools
And it’s a long road out of eden…


#187


"Three Flights Up" - Don McLean

On the first floor… On the first floor…

On the first floor there’s a young girl reeling
Her body’s numb and without feeling
As illusions dance on the midnight ceiling
Now she’s falling, now she’s kneeling

It’s almost like she’s bowed in prayer
A savior she’s about to bear
She screams for help, but no one’s there…
On the first floor…

On the first floor people walk the halls
But none can hear her desperate calls
There is no sound beyond the walls
So to the telephone she crawls

She telephones her only friend
The one on whom she can depend
But the phone rings on without an end
Then rings no more…On the first floor…

There’s a party on the second floor
And through the picture window you can see them all
They’re laughing and they’re dancing
Admiring the Renoir that’s hanging on the wall

But in the master bedroom where the coats are piled high
A silent, saddened lady thinks of what it’s like to die
And as she dwells on all the years she still has left to face
She wonders how she’ll ever find someone to take his place

Then suddenly she’s jarred by the ringing of the phone
Oh, why do you ring now, just when I want to be alone?
So she walks into the bathroom and drinks some water from a cup
But the telephone stops ringing just before she picks it up…

My family was very poor
So I worked hard to be secure
I married one I had to wed
And not the one I loved instead

When I was young my blood ran wild
But we stayed married for the child
Now three flights up, I’m all alone
My wife is dead, my child is grown

My daughter leads a wayward life
She’s been a failure as a wife
And though she lives just one floor down
She never calls or comes around…

Step off the platform and onto the train
Look out your window and into the rain
Watch all the buildings that pass as you ride
And count all the stories that go on inside
And then ask yourself if it must be this way
Should walls and doors and plaster ceilings
Separate us from each others’ feelings?


#188

“Acute Schizophrenia Paranoia Blues” - The Kinks

I’m too terrified to walk out of my own front door,
They’re demonstrating outside I think they’re gonna start the third world war,
I’ve been to my local head shrinker,
To help classify my disease,
He said it’s one of the cases of acute schizophrenia he sees.

Well the milkman’s a spy, and the grocer keeps on following me,
And the woman next door’s an undercover for the K.G.B.,
And the man from the Social Security
Keeps on invading my privacy,
Oh there ain’t no cure for acute schizophrenia disease.

I’ve got acute schizophrenia, paranoia too,
Schizophrenia, schizophrenia,
I’ve got it, you’ve got it, we can’t lose,
Acute schizophrenia blues.

I’m lost on the river, the river of no return,
I can’t make decisions, I don’t know which way I’m gonna turn,
Even my old dad, lost some of the best friends he ever had,
Apparently, his was a case of acute schizophrenia too.

I got acute schizophrenia, paranoia too,
Schizophrenia, schizophrenia,
I’ve got it, you’ve got it, we can’t lose,

They’re watching my house and they’re tapping my telephone,
I don’t trust nobody, but I’m much too scared to be on my own
And the income tax collector’s got his beady eye on me,
No there ain’t no cure for acute schizophrenia disease.

No there ain’t no cure for
Schizophrenia disease.


#189

love this track.


"Desperados Under The Eaves" - Warren Zevon

I was sitting in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel
I was staring in my empty coffee cup
I was thinking that the gypsy wasn’t lyin’
All the salty margaritas in Los Angeles
I’m gonna drink 'em up

And if California slides into the ocean
Like the mystics and statistics say it will
I predict this motel will be standing until I pay my bill

Don’t the sun look angry through the trees
Don’t the trees look like crucified thieves
Don’t you feel like Desperados under the eaves
Heaven help the one who leaves

Still waking up in the mornings with shaking hands
And I’m trying to find a girl who understands me
But except in dreams you’re never really free
Don’t the sun look angry at me

I was sitting in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel
I was listening to the air conditioner hum
It went mmmmmm…

Look away…
(Look away down Gower Avenue, Look away…)


#190

#191


"Small Change (Got Rained On With His Own .38)" - Tom Waits

Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight,
And nobody flinched down by the arcade
And the marquees weren’t weeping, they went stark-raving mad,
And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made
And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill,
And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill
And the naked mannequins with their Cheshire grins,
And the raconteurs and roustabouts said “Buddy, come on in, 'cause
’Cause the dreams ain’t broken down here now, they’re walking with a limp
Now that Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight”

And nobody flinched down by the arcade
And the burglar alarm’s been disconnected,
And the newsmen start to rattle
And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle
And the fire hydrants plead the Fifth Amendment
And the furniture is bargains galore
But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor
And what a hot rain on Forty-Second Street,
And now the umbrellas ain’t got a chance
And the newsboy’s a lunatic with stains on his pants, 'cause
’Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And no one’s gone over to close his eyes
And there’s a racing form in his pocket,
Circled “Blue Boots” in the third
And the cashier at the clothing store didn’t say a word
As the siren tears the night in half, and someone lost his wallet
Well, a surveillance of assailance, if that’s what you want to call it
And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics
With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos
And her radiator’s steaming and her teeth are in a wreck, and nah,
She won’t let you kiss her, but what the hell do you expect?
And the Gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume,
Well, they’ll bark you down like carneys, sell you Christmas cards in June, but
But Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And his headstone’s a gumball machine,
No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams
Someone’s hosing down the sidewalk, and he’s only in his teens, 'cause
’Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

And a fistful of dollars can’t change that,
And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring
And the newsboy got his porkpie Stetson hat
And the tuberculosis old men at the Nelson wheeze and cough
And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off, 'cause
’Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, yeah,
Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight


#192

Read an article the other day about the lyrics of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, that alluded to it being about Freddie Mercury coming out as gay. Reading it again, I can see passages that definitely fit with this idea, though open to interpretation. What do you think?

‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ - Queen

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality
Open your eyes,
Look up to the skies and see,
I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,
Because I’m easy come, easy go
Little high, little low
Any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me, to me

Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he’s dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooh (any way the wind blows)
Didn’t mean to make you cry
If I’m not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body’s aching all the time
Goodbye, everybody, I’ve got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooh (any way the wind blows)
I don’t wanna die,
I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all

I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning
Very, very frightening me
(Galileo) Galileo
(Galileo) Galileo
Galileo Figaro
Magnifico-o-o-o-o
I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me
He’s just a poor boy from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go (let him go!)
Bismillah! We will not let you go (let him go!)
Bismillah! We will not let you go (let him go!)
Will not let you go (let him go!)
Never, never let you go
Never let me go, oh
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
Oh, mama mia, mama mia (mama mia, let me go)
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? (Yeah!)
So you think you can love me and leave me to die?
Oh, baby, can’t do this to me, baby
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters
Nothing really matters to me
Any way the wind blows


#193

I don’t think it’s that obvious tbh.


#194

#195

#196

"We’ve decided to risk melting our guns
As a show of strength, as a show of strength!

We’ve decided to start melting our guns
As a show of strength, as a show of strength!

Will there come a time when we believe
The only way ahead is to put down our arms
When we finally know
The bitter consequence of not doing so…

What a waste of time,
The great wall of China,
What a waste of time,
The Maginot Line,
What a waste of time,
The Berlin Wall,
What a waste of time…

I’m thinking of all the kids that died in school shootings…


#197

“Far Afghanistan” - James Taylor

Back home Indiana, we just learn to get along
Civilized and socialized they teach you right from wrong
How to hold your liquor and how to hold your tongue
How to hold a woman or a baby or a gun

But nothing will prepare you for the far Afghanistan
You can listen to their stories and pick up what you can
You listen to their stories maybe read a book or two
Until they send you out there, man you haven’t got a clue

Oh the Hindu Kush, the Band-e Amir, the Hazara

They tell you a tradition in the hills of Kandahar
They say young boys are taken to the wilderness out there
Taken to the mountain alone and in the night
If he makes it home alive they teach him how to fight

They fought against the Russians, they fought against the Brits
They fought old Alexander, talking ‘bout him ever since
And after 9/11 here comes your Uncle Sam
Another painful lesson in the far Afghanistan

I was ready to be terrified and ready to be mad
I was ready to be homesick, the worst I’ve ever had
I expected to be hated and insulted to my face
But nothing could prepare me for the beauty of the place

No matter what they tell you all soldiers talk to God
It’s a private conversation written in your blood
The enemy’s no different, badass holy wind
That crazy bastard talks to God and his God talks back to him


#198

First time I’ve heard this Tom Waits track tonight, and was immediately sucked into it. I love songs that tell great stories…


"Big Joe And Phantom 309" - Tom Waits

See, I just happened to be back on the East coast a few years back
I was trying to make me a buck like everybody else
I’ll be damned if times didn’t get hard, and Christ I got down on my luck
And I got tired of just roaming and bumming around
So I started thumbing my way back to my old hometown

And you know, I made quite a few miles in the first couple of days
You know, I figured I’d be home in a week if my luck held out this way
You know, it was the third night, oh and I got stranded
And it was out at a cold lonely crossroads
And as the rain came pouring down, man I was hungry
Yeah, I was hungry, tired and freezing, caught myself a chill

But it was just about that time
Yeah, it was just about that time that the lights of an old semi topped the hill
You should’ve seen me smile when I heard them air brakes come on
Yeah, and I climbed up into that cab where I knew it’d be warm
At the wheel… well, at the wheel sat a big man
And I’d have to say he must’ve weighed two ten
As he stuck out a big hand and he said with a grin
’Big Joe’s the name, and this here rig is called Phantom 309’

Well, I asked him why he called his rig such a name
And you know, he turned to me and said
’Why son, don’t you know this here rig’ll be putting 'em all to shame
Nah, there ain’t a driver
No, there ain’t a driver on this or any other line for that matter that
That’s seen nothing but the taillights of Big Joe and Phantom 309’
So we rode and we talked the better part of the night
And I told my stories and Joe told his
And I smoked up all his Viceroys as we rolled along
Pushed her ahead with ten forward gears
Man, that dashboard was lit like the old Madame La Rue pinball
Serious semi-truck

'Til almost mysteriously
Well, it was the lights of a truck stop that rolled into sight
Joe turned to me, said 'I’m sorry son, but I’m afraid this is just as far as you go, you see
You see, I kinda gotta be making a turn just up the road a piece’
I’ll be damned if he didn’t toss me a dime as he threw her in low and said
’Go on in there son, and get yourself a hot cup of coffee on Big Joe’
I mean to tell you, when Joe and his rig pulled off into the night
Man, in nothing flat they was clean outta sight

So I walked into this stop, well I ordered me up a cup of mud
Saying 'Big Joe’s setting this dude up’
But it got so deadly quiet in that place
Yeah, it got so deadly quiet in that place, you could’ve heard a pin drop
And as the waiter’s face turned kind of pale I said
’What’s the matter, did I say something wrong?'
I kind of said with a half way grin
He said, 'No son, you see it’ll kinda happen every now and then
’Cause every driver in here knows Big Joe, son, but

But let me tell you what happened just ten years ago out there
Yeah, it was years ago, out there at that cold lonely crossroads
And there was a whole busload of kids
And then they were just coming from school
And they were right in the middle when Joe topped the hill and
They could’ve been slaughtered except Joe turned his wheels
And he jackknifed, yeah he jackknifed, and he went into a skid
And you know, folks around here, well
They say he gave his life to save that bunch of kids
And out there at that cold lonely crossroads
Well, they’re saying it was the end of the line for Big Joe and Phantom 309

But it’s funny you know, cause… cause every now and then
Yeah, every now and then when the moon’s holding water
Well, they say that old Joe’ll stop and give you a ride
It seems, just like you, some hitchhiker will be coming by’
‘So here, son,’ he said to me, ‘you get yourself another cup of coffee
It’s on the house, I kind of want you to hang on to that dime
Yeah, I kind of want you to hang on to that dime as a souvenir
I want you to keep that dime as a souvenir of Big Joe
Of Big Joe and Phantom
Big Joe and Phantom 309’


#199


"House Where Nobody Lives" - Tom Waits

There’s a house on my block
That’s abandoned and cold
Folks moved out of it a
Long time ago
And they took all their things
And they never came back
Looks like it’s haunted
With the windows all cracked
And everyone calls it
The house, the house where
Nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away
Did they know what it means
Did someone’s heart break
Or did someone do somebody wrong?

Well the paint was all cracked
It was peeled off of the wood
Papers were stacked on the porch
Where I stood
And the weeds had grown up
Just as high as the door
There were birds in the chimney
And an old chest of drawers
Looks like no one will ever
Come back to the
House where nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away
Did they know what it means
Did someone’s heart break
Or did someone do somebody wrong?
So if you find someone
Someone to have, someone to hold
Don’t trade it for silver
Don’t trade it for gold
I have all of life’s treasures
And they are fine and they are good
They remind me that houses
Are just made of wood
What makes a house grand
Ain’t the roof or the doors
If there’s love in a house
It’s a palace for sure
Without love…
It ain’t nothing but a house
A house where nobody lives
Without love it ain’t nothing
But a house, a house where
Nobody lives


#200

#201

Frank Turner - 1933

“Stop asking musicians what they think,”
He slurred softly as he poured himself a second drink,
And outside, the world slipped over the brink.
“We all thought we had nothing to lose,
That we could trust in crossed fingers and horseshoes,
That everything would work out, no matter what we choose.”
The first time it was a tragedy, the second time it’s a farce.
Outside it’s 1933, so I’m hitting the bar.
And I don’t know what’s going on anymore.
The world outside is burning with a brand new light,
But it isn’t one that makes me feel warm.
Don’t go mistaking your house burning down for the dawn.
If I was of the greatest generation, I’d be pissed,
Surveying the world that I built slipping back into this.
I’d be screaming at my grandkids, “We already did this!”
Be suspicious of simple answers -
That shit’s for fascists (and maybe teenagers).
You can’t fix the world if all you have is a hammer.
Aren’t you ashamed of this? I surely hope that you are;
Living in a society that’s maybe heading for Mars,
While down here we still have a shower of bastards
Leading the charge.
Outside it’s 1933 so I’m hitting the bar.


#202

“Casino Nation” - Jackson Browne

In a weapons producing nation under Jesus
In the fabled crucible of the free world
Camera crews search for clues amid the detritus
And entertainment shapes the land
The way the hammer shapes the hand

Gleaming faces in the checkout counter at the Church of Fame
The lucky winners cheer Casino Nation
All those not on TV only have themselves to blame
And don’t quite seem to understand
The way the hammer shapes the hand

Out beyond the ethernet the spectrum spreads
DC to daylight, the cowboy mogul rides
Never worry where the gold for all this glory’s gonna come from
Get along dogies, it’s coming out of your hides

The intentional cultivation of a criminal class
The future lit by brightly burning bridges
Justice fully clothed to hide the heart of glass
That shatters in a thousand Ruby Ridges
And everywhere the good prepare for perpetual war
And let their weapons shape the plan
The way the hammer shapes the hand


#203