Waiting for the Royal Dawn

So, it turns out that I had the lyrics of M83’s brilliant Midnight City completely wrong.

I thought it went…

Waiting for the call,
Waiting for the royal dawn,
Tonight the city grows,
Who can see the royalty glow?
Waiting for the call,
Waiting for the royal dawn,
Drinking in the love,
Following the neon signs,
Waiting for the world,
Looking at the mutated skyline,
City is my church,
It wraps me with sparkling twilight,

Which sounds downright mystical. But in actual fact it goes…

Waiting in a car,
Waiting for a ride in the dark,
The night city grows,
Look and see her eyes, they glow,
Waiting in a car,
Waiting for a ride in the dark,
Drinking in the lounge,
Following the neon signs,
Waiting for a roar,
Looking at the mutating skyline,
City is my church,
It wraps me in the sparkling twilight,

Which is OK, but more…. mundane than I figured.

Oh well, It’s still a damn good track, and I’ll still sing along with my words! 🙂

Lyrics – Hampden Parks and Recreation

I’ve spotted a few people in my logs looking for these lyrics, so, here’s my best shot at them. You’re welcome!

Hampden Parks (Freestyle Friday #7) – E-Dubble

Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay!

Yeah some days, I feel unfazed,
Like when I’m with my friends with a cup raised,
But come Monday, I got a gun raised,
Suicidal do or die until hump day,
Then I go right back at it like an automatic,
More drinks, more songs, more beats to rap,
For me to shrink, I’m gone, more time keeps passing,
No watch no thoughts at all just a hat,

New era – Rep my P’s and those O’s
Need a Phillies with the orange and black to feel home,
From Citizens Bank back to Camden Yards,
It’s the tale of two cities and trust we go hard,
Trust we go hard?
Yes we go hard,
You said we go hard?
I said we go hard,

Rockin’ my Bob Couseys, stockin’ up on the looseleaf,
The lyrics come easy but the life is a doozy,
And yes I’m choosy and no I won’t settle,
But I still take pop-off over that kettle,
Cuz’ I’m talking bigger picture and yes I’m gonna hitcha with that…

No shit!

Speak when necessary, no I never been a loud mouth,
Introvert but I insert a few wow-outs,
No Nick Cannon, David Banner when I pow-wow,
Hennessy but hold the hip I’m ’bout to have a brown out,
Clowns runnin’ round with the make up on they face,
To that I’m astringent – I been this way,
New bars, new beats, yeah that’s me all day
New cars, new freaks, no you keep that main,

I’m a business man, in a business, man!
Obstacles made me who I am,
Let loose, no truce, my boots come off,
Once Black Paisley has made my family’s fortune,
With a corner office and the greener pastures,
Sip cheap liquor till’ I’m leaning backwards,
Grip this dream you can see my passion,
Rep my city no beef with Asher,

Blue Bella and Blood help me write the chapters,
I’ll be home soon and we’ll toast the Asti,
Sip mimosas till me no-no my name,
EVA phhhht – I’m gone again!

Back to the mansion and yes I’m home again,
Rockin’ in Hampden and yes you know the name,
Young English – Black Paisley – Irish Toothache, who they be?
Who they be?
Who they be?
Who they be?
Well they be us!
Poor English, screwed up semantics,
I am talking real shit, speak my language,
Celebrate the blemishes, throw away the tentative,
I be on some other shit so go and tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,
Tell the other kids,

Tell them other kids whatever you like,
It’s freestyle Friday, March 9 19th whatever,
I don’t doo derrrrrr ithat wenthay,
Dooba dooba dabba dooba deeba dub dub,
Rap songs, rap music we do what we want,
Dooba dabba dooba deeba dabba dooba the fronts…

Yeah, now look, I just checked my uh, checked the weather, on my phone, on my telephone, on my cellular telephone, it’s supposed to get up to 71 degrees today! S’posed to get up to 71 degrees. Holy guacamole. Hey y’know it’s not a traditional, saying for a rapper to say but holy guacamole’s underused, and um, what I’m trying to say is – it’s Springtime! OK? We’ve weathered the storm! Happy Freestyle Friday, seeya guys.

Snakes into Saints

In a follow up to my last post, I was recently quite disappointed to learn that the lyrics to the Killers’ Mr Brightside are not ‘turning snakes into the sea’, but ‘turning saints into the sea’, which is still a bloody puzzling thing to say, but somehow nowhere near as cool.

This is the second thing I got wrong about the song. When I first heard it I thought it was about seeing someone you have a thing for – but are too timid to attempt a shot at – going home from a bar or party with someone else. It actually turns out to be about suspecting your partner is having an affair.

I find it darkly amusing that my brain – even when simply considering a song – refused to construct a scenario where I have a partner, and instead cast me in the role of the pathetic, forever alone guy watching the girl he wants walking away ;D

The Fantastic Sounds of the Pictures

Featuring the Spazzys

I’ve taken a day off of work to get my head in order after the Melbourne trip. Rather than spend any time blogging about it, or putting up the many photos I took, I’ve spent the day pottering about the house and listening to mp3s, one of which just happened to be See You Home Tonight from the Pictures’ 2007 release The Fantastic Sounds of the Pictures.

Not only is this a great song, but it features the vocal talents of the Spazzys, so there’s frankly no circumstances under which I could ever dislike it. That said – somewhat ironically given the album title – the sound production on the track is fairly muffled and muddy, which makes it rather difficult to pick out the lyrics. This hasn’t previously bothered me unduly, but today I was struck with a sudden desire to find them out. “No problem!” I thought “I’ll look them up on the interwebs!” but to my shock and horror, I couldn’t seem to locate them anywhere.

This is not a situation that can be allowed to stand, so I’ve just spend the last half hour playing the song over and over, and listening intently to a live version some kind soul put up on YouTube. As a result, I can now present the following lyrics, which (apart from one bit in the first verse) I am 100% certain are correct.

(The bits in italics are sung by the Spazzys, just so that’s clear…)

See You Home Tonight
by The Pictures (featuring The Spazzys)

I know you won’t want to come to my party,
But if you do we’ll throw good times away,
Dance and drink the whole night long,
Until my pal, he finally lets me say…

So I’m asking you,
‘Cause he can’t ask himself,
Can he see you home, tonight?

No he can’t,
No he can’t,

I know there must be something I missed,
If he’s too shy, for it to come to this,
Well that all might be very well,
But with the crush he got on you, well I just can’t tell!

So I’m asking you,
‘Cause he can’t ask himself,
Can he see you home, tonight?

No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,

Now we got the sun rise up,
It’s time to know if he’s all out of luck,
Before you run and get away,
Just give us one more chance to hear me say…

So I’m asking you,
Can he ask himself?
Can he see you home, tonight?

Can he see you home?
He can’t see me home,
Can he see you home, tonight?

No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,
No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,

Ursarkar E. Creed’s Favourite Song

Kell on the other hand can’t stand it…

(With profound apologies to Pig with the Face of a Boy)

I had a little stormbolter,
He was my only friend,
I took him to the holoshow,
And loved him ’till the end,

I had a little barking toad,
On my windowsill,
And he ate all the flies,
That came in my room,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Or I’ll have to cut your head off, with a blunt chainsword,

I had a little plasma gun, I shot it at a Tau,
I fired off six shots and I burnt my hand on the grip,
I stole a Sister’s laud-hailer and used it to do this,
CREEEEEEED!!!
But then a Necron broke it so I damaged all his face,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Or I’ll have to wipe the remnants of your insides off my face,

Please don’t tread on my little barking toad,
He’s my only, only friend in the whole wide world,
He was little, and green, and he kept me free from flies,
Until someone trod on him, and he exploded, destroying everything for a radius of approximately one kilometre,
And it was very, very sad,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
How would you like it if I stole your cogigtator?
And I gave it to an Eldar in exchange for spirit stones?

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha! ha! ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha! ha! ha ha ha!
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA,
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh,

Good!

You’re a Solarsaurus!

Who fries molasses?

Dagnabit! Why didn’t they have anything this cool when I was a kid?

Official B.P.R.D. Training Camp (AKA, Hellboy Camp)

On another subject, just for the hell of it, I decided to transcribe the “lyrics” of that French black metal monstrosity I posted yesterday. These of course are not the real lyrics, as FADADES is presumably screeching and gurgling in French, but I quite like my interpretation…

I’m sorry, stray asses!
Starla!
You sold us! Tell us!
Rastas!
You’re a solarsaurus!
You sold us! Sold us!
He lives… Stole us!
Aarrrrrgh!
Truth! Urrrgh!
Who? Who fries molasses?
Starla!
He stole us! Tell us!
This… You liars! With us!
Urgh!
To us! Trust!
You sell us! Urgh!
Stole us! Arrgh!
Starla!
Space…
You liars! With us!

Who fries molasses indeed FADADES? Who fries molasses indeed…

Dark Fruits of the Mind

Anyone actually singing this in the 41st Millennium would be up before the Inquisition so fast…

The thing about having a creative brain is sometimes it’ll create things you just don’t want it to. And the only way to get rid of things that it’s created against your will is to spit them out into the world – otherwise they’ll lurk in the dark corners of your mind and jump out to torment you when you least expect them to.

As such, I am reluctantly forced to subject you all to this monstrosity. I’m so, so sorry…

My mother was the keeper of the orbital dock,
And she slept with a sanctionite warlock,
Out of this union came children three,
An ogryn and a ratling and the other was me,

Oh now see the Emperor’s light!
Oh for the life of a sanctionite!

One cycle I testing out the ammo feed,
Belting out a verse of the Omnissiah’s Creed,
A voice from behind me said “Hey there!”
I turned to see my father floating in midair,

Oh now see the Emperor’s light!
Oh for the life of a sanctionite!

What has become of my children three?
My father then he asked of me,
One was fed to the Emperor’s throne,
The other was converted to a servitor drone,

Oh now see the Emperor’s light!
Oh for the life of a sanctionite!

The warp fire flashed in his skull white hair,
I looked again and my father wasn’t there,
A voice came echoing from the airlock,
“To the warp with the keeper of the orbital dock!”

Oh now see the Emperor’s light!
Oh for the life of a sanctionite!

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