Favourite Song lyrics


#204

This is genuinely one of my ‘to be played at my funeral’ songs.


#205

#206

“I’m A Dog” - Crash Test Dummies

I’m a dog, and I can smell your smell right through your clothes
And I espouse some views that you yourself just might not hold
Sometimes I am given pause to think when
I consider what we could call the good life

When it comes to the city versus the country life
Well, I must say that I far prefer a farmer’s wife
Breakfast with the master in the morning
Feel the breeze and brush against a cow’s leg - mmm!

But it seems the thinkers you call greatest are
The sort who often fall ill young, or pine away
How can they help but drag the species down?

There’s some debate about whether instincts should be held in check
Well, I suppose that I’m a liberal in this respect
I can’t say I liked Robinson Crusoe
But at least he didn’t tie his dogs up at night

And it seems the thinkers you call greatest are
The sort who often fall ill young, or pine away
How can they help but drag the species down?

How come all your poets fall into despondencies?
And then write it down for us to read every indignity?
Not such worthy specimens, these creatures
Hardly fit for what you could call the good life

And it seems the thinkers you call greatest are
The sort who often fall ill young, or pine away
How can they help but drag the species down?
How can they help but drag the species down?


#207

#208

“The Jail That Sets You Free”

Lately I’ve been picking at the fossil in my throat
It’s hard to stare into the ocean
And to try to stay afloat
Now don’t upset yourself due to the changing of my mood
I’m hard to please sometimes
I’m hard to please sometimes

I’m on a staircase to the bottom of the bottom of my soul
Although my feet are still connected
They are out of my control
Now please refrain yourself from worrying on my behalf
I’m hard to understand sometimes
I’m hard to understand sometimes

Honey come with me
It’s just you and me
Baby believe it’s
As simple as can be
I will be the jail that sets you free
I will be the jail that sets you free

I’m shuffling underneath my pillow for the bed-crumbs of my mind
It’s hard to look there for a future
When I left it all behind
Please don’t condescend and say you’ve heard this one before
I’m hard to please sometimes
I’m hard to please sometimes

And while you’re offering a handshake to a goddamn amputee
I feel my phantom heart is scratching in a train-wreck memory
Please don’t try to cure me with on rectifying glance
I’m hard to understand sometimes
I’m hard to understand sometimes

Honey come with me
It’s just you and me
Baby believe it’s
As simple as can be
I will be the jail that sets you free


#209

“Your Anchor”

She said baby you’re my gold
I said no babe, just your banker
She said baby you’re my chains
I said no hun I’m your anchor
I said baby you’re my wings
She said no babe, you’re a fish
I said baby you’re my dream
She said no hun, just your wish

She said baby you’re my river
I said no hun, I’m your drain
She said baby you’re my color
I said no babe I’m your stain
I said baby you’re my diamond
She said no babe, just your pick
I said baby you are magic
She said no jun, just a trick

She said baby you can see me
I said baby i just sense
She said baby you’re my castle
I said no hun, I’m your fence
I said baby you’re my lover
She said no hun, just your maid
I said baby i adore you
She said no babe, you’re just afraid


#210

Love this, but especially the intro to it.


‘Eggs and Sausage’ - Tom Waits

Nighthawks at the diner
Of Emma’s 49er, there’s a rendezvous
Of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
All the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs
Now the paper’s been read
Now the waitress said
Eggs and sausage and a side of toast
Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries
What kind of pie?
In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade
Two for a quarter, dime for a dance
With Woolworth rhinestone diamond
Earrings, and a sideway’s glance
And now the register rings
And now the waitress sings
(chorus) the classified section offered no direction
It’s a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
Now the touch of your fingers
Lingers burning in my memory
I’ve been 86ed from your scheme
I’m in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
I’m a refugee from a disconcerted affair
As the lead pipe morning falls
And the waitress calls
(chorus)


#211

#212

‘Miss Marlene’ - Donald Fagen

Back in double-o-seven
Miss M was queen
She could roll like a pro rolls
When she was seventeen

Whether straight or hammered
She was the best in town
When she release the red ball
All the pins fall down

Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Miss Marlene
We’re still bowling
Every Saturday night
Saturday night

Your move to the lane, child
Played on my heartstrings
With the long skinny legs, child
And your hoop earrings

When the stakes are sky-high
That’s when you’d always shine
The ball would ride a moonbeam
Down the inside line

Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Miss Marlene
We’re still bowling
Every Saturday night
Saturday night

And then, one night
Something came apart
You were throwin’ back hurricanes
And we knew someone
Had played with your heart

You ran into the dark street
At University Place
The cab came up so fast that
We saw your laughin’ face

Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Miss Marlene
We’re still bowling
Every Saturday night

Sometimes on a league night
I catch her scent again
Her hand guiding my hand
We drop the seven-ten

Can’t you hear the balls rumble?
Can’t you hear the balls rumble
Miss Marlene
We’re still bowling
Every Saturday night
Saturday night
Every Saturday night


#214

#215


‘Breakfast Ethereal’ - Ron Sexsmith

In my life as a child I wore the stripes
Playing inside right
As the Captain of the St Catharines Imperials
With dumb luck running wild we won the cup
Waking up every day
To love and a bowl of breakfast ethereal
From a soft focus world where tomorrow seemed bright
To the black and the white
TV light of some dreadful soap opera serial
From a scrape to a scar we left little doubt
From the inside out
We were healing ourselves with breakfast ethereal
What have we lost in our mad
Pursuit of what we already had
When was the last time we saw the sun rise
And what did we gain in return
But a lesson that we’d already learned
Remember that first time we saw with our own eyes
We saw with our own eyes
As the sorrowful leaves fall at our feet
All the sadness is sweet
And the trees in the sunlight are seemingly spiritual
I’d love to wake up again and imagine it all
Through the mind of a child
As the day runs wild with breakfast ethereal
Breakfast ethereal
Breakfast ethereal
Breakfast ethereal
Breakfast ethereal


#216

Just been listening to Misplaced Childhood while I’m out walking and pondering the lyrics…

I saw a war widow in a laundrette, washing the memories from her husband’s clothes. She had medals, pinned to her threadbare greatcoat. A lump in her throat, with cemetery eyes.

…doesn’t get better than that. ‘Cemetery eyes’. We’ve all been there and know that look. The visual imagery is profound.


#217

Sounds also good IMHO!


#218

‘Diamonds on My Windshield’ - Tom Waits

Well these diamonds on my windshield
And these tears from heaven
Well I’m pulling into town on the Interstate
I got a steel train in the rain
And the wind bites my cheek through the wing
And it’s these late nights and this freeway flying
It always makes me sing
There’s a Duster tryin’ to change my tune
He’s pulling up fast on the right
Rolling restlessly by a twenty-four hour moon
And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head
He’s wishing he was home in a Wiscosin bed
But there’s fifteen feet of snow in the East
Colder then a welldigger’s ass
And it’s colder than a welldigger’s ass
Oceanside it ends the ride with San Clemente coming up
Those Sunday desperadoes slip by and cruise with a dry back
And the orange drive-in the neon billin’
And the theatre’s fillin’ to the brim
With slave girls and a hot spurn bucket full of sin
Metropolitan area with interchange and connections
Fly-by-nights from Riverside
And out of state plates running a little late
But the sailors jockey for the fast lane
So 101 don’t miss it
There’s rolling hills and concrete fields
And the broken line’s on your mind
The eights go east and the fives go north
And the merging nexus back and forth
You see your sign, cross the line, signalling with a blink
And the radio’s gone off the air
Gives you time to think
And you hear the rumble
As you fumble for a cigarette
And blazing through this midnight jungle
Remember someone that you met
And one more block, the engine talks
Whispers home at last
It whispers home at last
Whispers home at last
It whispers home at last
Whispers home at last
And there are diamonds on my windshield
And these tears from heaven
Well I’m pulling into town on the Interstate
I got me a steel train in the rain
And the wind bites my cheek through the wing
Late nights and freeway flying
Always makes me sing
It always makes me sing