Lyrics – Page 3

Charlton Heston

The recipe for egg fried lice

And here are the lyrics to yesterday’s discovery…

Stump – Charlton Heston

The pyramids were in construction,
The Pharaoh glowed with satisfaction,
But then to his immense surprise,
His empire fell before his eyes,
A hundred thousand busy slaves,
Downed their tools and stood and stared,

The Red Sea walls stood like a canyon,
The Pharaoh pulled up in his wagon,
And saw within those walls of glass,
A herd of whales go racing past,
A hundred thousand fishy tales,
Crossed his mind about the day…

…that Charlton Heston put his vest on,

The broken tablets had been mended,
The golden calf had been up-ended,
And old folk sittin’ ’round the fire,
Would talk of voices from the sky,
Babies sailing down the Nile,
The recipe for locust pie,
A hundred thousand frogs per mile,
We’d always ask them to describe…

…how Charlton Heston put his vest on,

Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal,
Shalt not commit adultery,
Boils the size of 50p,
Lights! Camel! Action!
Bushes that refuse to burn,
See these sandals hardly worn,
Raining blood, raining bread,
The night we painted Egypt red,
Thou shalt not covet, shalt not lie,
Thou shalt not bonk your neighbour’s wife,
The recipe for egg fried lice,
A hundred ways to kill a fly,
Love your daddy, love your mummy,
Put your bread in milk and honey,
Loved his fish, he did, he did,
Never beat the wife and kids,
Slouch though desert, slouch through sand,
Until we reach the promised land,
Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal,
Shalt not commit adultery,
Boils the size of 50p,
Lights! Camel! Action!
Bushes that refuse to burn,
See these sandals hardly worn,
Raining blood and raining bread,
The night we painted Egypt red,
Thou shalt not covet, shalt not lie,
Thou shalt not bonk your neighbour’s wife,
The recipe for egg fried lice,
Lights! Camel! Action!
Lights! Camel! Action!

Charlton Heston put his vest on,
Charlton Heston put his vest on,
Charlton Heston put his vest on,
Charlton Heston put his vest on,
Charlton Heston put his vest on…

Saint Anger

Hahahahah! Eat me Lars!

Saint Anger was the angriest of all the Saints,
Much angrier than Saint Francis of Assisi,
Or Saint Cuthbert the Kind,
Saint Anger used to steal the other Saints’ Bibles,
And punch little children in the face,
And when they cried he didn’t mind…

I didn’t write that. It’s from a song called Saint Anger which predates Metallica’s rather dismal work of the same name by several decades. The thing is, I only know that much of it and have no idea who sang it, and it doesn’t seem to exist on the internet at all. So I’m putting it here, lest the tale of Saint Anger vanish completely from the world.

SPISPOPD

We can’t stop here, this is mondegreen country…

While we’re on the subject of Disarm, I discovered the other day that the song does not go…

…bitterness, the one whose laugh I loathe…

and in fact goes

…bitterness, the one who’s left alone…

Billy Corgan is clearly nowhere near the songwriter that I imagined him to be 😀

The Scoliosis Bus

Making light of a serious medical condition.

Had a very enjoyable Boxing Day lunch at Rebecca and Dom’s yesterday. As is usual the postprandial conversation wandered all over the place, and happened to light upon a government funded bus that used to travel around from school to school testing children for signs of scoliosis. Our collective blood sugar levels being all over the place we found the concept of “the scoliosis bus” quite hilarious, and laughed like drains for a good five minutes.

Rebecca kindly gave me a lift home and on the short walk from her car to my apartment my brain insisted on whipping up a set of lyrics, which I now – shamefully – present to a candid world…

The Scoliosis Bus (to the tune of Jingle Bells)

A day or two ago, I thought I’d go to school,
And as I studied there, what vehicle up did pull?
The Nurse jumped out the bus, and measured up my spine,
She said “put on this truss and you will soon be feeling fine!”

Spinal cord! Spinal cord! Spinal chordate truss!
Oh what fun it is to ride in the Scoliosis Bus!
Spinal cord! Spinal cord! Spinal chordate truss!
Oh what fun it is to ride in the Scoliosis Bus!

I am so, so sorry.

The Herd – 2020

Some more lyrics for y’all

Among doing other things today I tried to look up the lyrics to the Herd’s song 2020. As is often the case in this degenerate age, the versions of the lyrics I found were awful – seemingly transcribed by hearing impaired meth addicts. I was faced with no option but to transcribe them myself.

So here is a semi-decent version of 2020. Words and phrases I’m unsure of have been placed in brackets, and I’ve written out all numbers to make it clear how they’re pronounced. Enjoy!

(Oh, there’s a bit of adult language in there, so be warned)

The Herd – 2020

It’s not as if you didn’t get the warning,
You got the transcripts and recordings,
History has a way of signing us up in the morning,
If you’re a late starter make it easy to ignore it,
Later not recall it,

Yeah, you had unfettered access to the facts,
But the fact is your back is turned to the Atlas,
Looking like (jumping) in the grass,
Just to help you make your mind up,
Unknowingly the young sign up,

The enemy of our enemy is still our enemy,
So why were you (harming and resisting) insanity,
That’s how the Taliban began,
(But you’ve mostly) turn around,
And aim their weapons at Americans,

How’s it feel to be a widow-maker,
Taker of the father of the family,
Your tragedy is (playing),
That’s the stakes that scoff at the Saigon link,
Flash those pearlies, take us way past the brink,

And we you knew you were frauds,
Onwards we went to war,
Nothing could be said to promise you,
We’d already seen it before,

Someone could’a told you it’d end like this,
They did, you didn’t listen, you can take a trip,
Lookin’ back twenty-twenty, mistakes I got many,
And the truth is that I’d probably do it again,

No-one could have ever half sway your mind,
We’ve been there before but it’s not that time,
Lookin’ back twenty-twenty, mistakes I got many,
And the truth is that I’d probably do it again

There’s something familiar,
’bout that story you told me,
The way that you mouthed it,
It’s not what you sold me,

Well yes I’m one of many,
Yet you ignored the signs,
You made it personal,
Don’t spin me them lies,

Sir, you can’t relax,
’cause it occurred on your watch,
History will judge you,
’cause you’re all that we’ve got,

Is anyone listening?
Are you f**king insane?
Am I twisted, watching as it plays out again?

And the truth is we knew this,
People aren’t stupid,
You play the innocent because you think we let you do it,
If we think you’re too ruthless,
Show you where the point of the boot is,
It’s all about where the f**king proof is,

You’ll keep an eye on that new kid,
He’s liable to do sh*t,
If you don’t keep a check on it, beyond your electorate,
Peace in Iraq man, stay in Afghanistan,
Lookin’ for Osama, getting killed by the Taliban,

War on drugs, war on terror, nine-eleven,
We knew where Johnny stood, where’s Kevin?
Don’t get me wrong, alarm clocks from heaven,
Going off when the country woke up in o-seven,

But there’s no letting up, no we’re just getting up,
Off the canvas, that very fact demands that,
We stay as vigilant as can be,
Transparency, Another AWB,
But we’ll see,

Even as we applaud,
And we show them the door,
Thought we’d warn you that we’re wary,
Cause we’ve already seen it before,

Someone could’a told you it’d end like this,
They did, you didn’t listen, you can take a trip,
Lookin’ back twenty-twenty, mistakes I got many,
And the truth is that I’d probably do it again,

No-one could have ever half sway your mind,
We’ve been there before but it’s not that time,
Lookin’ back twenty-twenty mistakes I got many,
And the truth is that I’d probably do it again,

Back at Work. Bah!

Being back at work sucks.

I narrowly missed out on an extremely embarrassing encounter on the train home on Thursday night. There I was, walking down the platform after getting out of the front carriage, when who should I spy, sitting in the rear carriage(The electric trains in Perth only have two carriages. Or four in really busy periods, but that’s really just two trains end to end.) but Lyndah (Her hair is currently dyed flame red, so she’s pretty hard to miss ;-)).

You know, Lyndah?

Yeah. She didn’t see me, or if she did she did (she did she did? That can’t be good English!) a very good job of pretending she didn’t. And I doubt she would have spotted me down the length of the train since she was right at the back. But of course this little incident raises the question of what would have happened had we ended up on the same carriage and she had seen me (I know what would have happened if I’d seen her. I would have turned as red as a lobster and concealed myself behind some large fellow commuter before scurrying out like a rat when the train got to my station :)).

It’s a very good question.

The hidden variable of course is whether she’s aware of what I wrote about her. I have no reason to suppose that she’s ever visited my website or this blog, but she could have been made aware of the salient facts by my brother, which would provide a very good reason for her to pretend not to see me under any circumstances, let alone a train 🙂

The problem of course is that I don’t know if my brother reads this blog either. In fact I only know of a few people who do read it, Helen, Ali, Stephanie, Rebecca and Ryan (and maybe Mark, in between all that police training). Of course there’s also all those people who wander in looking for the lyrics to the Drug’s The Bold and the Beautiful or after searching for “Billy Idol Religious Fanatics” (I’m not kidding. Two separate search engine queries over the last few months. The scary thing is not so much that people are searching for this, but that I keep coming up for it :)). But I don’t know about anyone else.

So, regard this as an invitation everyone. If you read the Wyrmlog, let me know! Drop me an email! You’re my audience after all!

I’ll get all depressed if you don’t 😉

(By the way, please note that this is not an invitation to send me offers for herbal viagra, discount ink cartridges, penis enlargement pills, human growth hormone, millions of dollars in unclaimed African slush funds or any other such crap. I have excellent spam filtering software and I use it, so your message will be bloody well bounced.)

Anyway, back to Lyndah. I naturally kept half an eye out for her on Friday, but there wasn’t a flash of sexy flame red hair to be seen. Which is probably a good thing all round. I can seriously do without the distraction 🙂

Anyway, on a completely different subject a fair few people have been visiting the Wyrmlog looking for the lyrics to 77% by The Herd. Since I’ve been looking for them myself and the only copy I can find online is woefully inadequate I figured I’d transcribe them and stick them up here. So (with all necessary language warnings) here they are. Enjoy…

77% – The Herd

(samples)

…seventy seven percent of Australians, um, agree with John Howard’s actions on the Tampa.
What happened to the others?..

…the thing is, to use military force, uh, against, uh refugees, isn’t that a little, overkill?..

…a spokesman for the line that owns the ship says Australian SAS Troops are in danger of breaking the laws of piracy…

…undoubtedly this is the most popular decision as far as the Australian public are concerned, the Government’s made during its reign…

…the Captain before entering Australian waters had sent out a distress signal…

…clearly our solution was um, well it wasn’t only farcical – it was um, immoral…

(John Howard) I wish, that this problem were not ours…

Well I’m left sitting here, staring into a beer,
Shaking my head at the same old loathing and fear,
Stranger in my own land, can’t understand,
How the very word ‘Australian’ has just been damned,
I f*****g hate myself, take Aussie from my name,
Erase this endless shame, forever casting blame,
If you don’t act the same will I destroy you?
Everyone looks the same beaten black and blue,

And so I’ve had enough of these redneck pricks,
When fact is the only real s**t that sticks,
Watch as I tear the very skin from my face,
So none’ll see my race, my deep disgrace,
You’re not even from here in the first place!
And those who are you wanna further debase?
Nup – no more – never again, whether by fist or pen,
I will defend – ’cause I’m at a loose end,

The shattered remnants of Aussie dignity,
I’m a skip, whitey, round eye, surprise me,
Use your shriveled brain to please explain,
How the clever country just went down the drain?
We rode the sheep’s back now the sheep ride you,
If this is how it’s gonna be don’t call me true blue,
I denounce my ancestors, wounds still fester,
If you say it ain’t so I suggest ya wake up!

Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up! These c***s need a shake up,
Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up! These c***s need a shake up,
Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up! These c***s need a shake up,
Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up!

Talkback? Squawking hacks, won’t relax,
Until Jonesey, Zemanek and Laws are all axed,
Seventy-seven percent of Aussies are racist,
If you’re here – I’ll say it your faces,
Rich redneck pricks still hold all the aces,
I’ll buy you a beer – with a arsenic chaser,
Better off dead? Is that what I’ve said?
Tempting to take for all the blood you’ve shed,

No doubt you’re as bad as your dads and your mums,
Mainsteam media making me so f*****g bummed,
Anglo reality, intellectual cavity,
Channel Nine fostering prejudiced mentalities,
I won’t be a casualty, just mention casually,
I can’t stand for you s**t-eating bullies,
Preying on peeps without a mainstream voice,
Most of yous stay silent but I’ve got no choice,

Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up! These c***s need a shake up!
Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up! These c***s need a shake up!
Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up! These c***s need a shake up!
Wake up! This country needs a f*****g shake up!
Wake up!

Well I’ve yelled my lungs out, but to no avail,
Well I’ve yelled my lungs out, but to no avail,
Well I’ve yelled my lungs out, but to no f*****g avail,
That you’re a stranger yourself, now that’s the sting in the tail,

Captain Cook was the very first queue jumper,
It was immigrant labour that made Australia plumper,
Enough is enough, whiteys go pack your stuff,
Don’t wanna live in England? That’s f*****g tough!
I’m sick and tired of this redneck wonderland,
Most of yous stay silent and I can’t understand,
I just can’t understand,
It’s time for you to,

Well that’s a cheery way to sign off isn’t it? 🙂