O/T Songs with crazy lyrics

What's all this Mu Mu Land, driving an ice cream van all about?

http://www.lyricsvault.net/php/artist.php?s=6814#axzz3UtMCjvUU

Any wiser?

 

Set adrift on memory bliss... That'll be The Dramas..then..

 

Good subject.

 

Spoiler: Drop box for lyrics

I went out walking the other day
The wind hung wet around my neck
My head it rung with screams and groans
From the night I spent amongst her bones
I passed beside the mission house
Where that mad old buzzard, the reverend,
Shrieked and flapped about life after your dead
Well, I thought about my friend, Michel
How they rolled him in linoleum
And shot him in the neck
A bloody halo, like a think-bubble
Circling his head
And I bellowed at the firmament
Looks like the rains are hear to stay
And the rain pissed down upon me
And washed me all away
Saying

Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Well, the road is long
And the road is hard
And many fall by the side
But Papa won't leave you, Henry
So there ain't no need to cry

And I went on down the road
He went on down the road
And I went on down the road
He went on down the road

Well, the moon it looked exhausted
Like something you should pity
Spent an age-spotted
Above the sizzling wires of the city
Well, it reminded me of her face
Her bleached and hungry eyes
Her hair was like a curtain
Falling open with the laughter
And closing with the lies
But the ghost of her still lingers on
Though she's passed through me
And is gone
The slum dogs, they are barking
And the rain children on the streets
And the tears that we will weep today
Will all be washed away
By the tears that we will weep again tomorrow

Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
For the road is long
And the road is hard
And many fall by the side
But Papa won't leave you, Henry
So there ain't no need to cry

And I went on down the road
He went on down the road
And I went on down the road
He went on down the road

And I came upon a little house
A little house upon a hill
And I entered through, the curtain hissed
Into the house with its blood-red bowels
Where wet-lipped women with greasy fists
Crawled the ceilings and the walls
They filled me full of drink
And led me round the rooms
Naked and cold and grinning
Until everything went black
And I came down spinning
I awoke so drunk and full of rage
That I could hardly speak
A fag in a whale-bone corset
Draping his dick across my cheek
And its into the shame
And its into a guilt
And its into the ****ing fray
And the walls ran red around me
A warm arterial spray
Saying

Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Well, the night is dark
And the night is deep
And its jaws are open wide
But Papa won't leave you, Henry
So there ain't no need to cry

And I went on down the road
He went on down the road
And I went on down the road
He went on down the road

It's the rainy season where I'm living
Death comes leaping out of every doorway
Wasting you for money, for your clothes
And for your nothing
Entire towns being washed away
Favelas exploding on inflammable spillways
Lynch-mobs, death squads, babies being born without brains
The mad heat and the relentless rains
And if you stick your arm into that hole
It comes out **** up to the bone
And with her kisses bubbling on my lips
I swiped the rain and nearly missed
And I went on down the road
He went on down the road
Singing

Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Papa won't leave you, Henry
Papa won't leave you, Boy
Well, the road is long
And the road is hard
And many fall by the side
But Papa won't leave you, Henry
So there ain't no need to cry

And I went on down the road
He went on down the road
And I went on down the road
He went on down the road
Bent Beneath my heavy load
Under his heavy load
Yeah, I went on down the road
Yeah, he went on down the road

Woah, woah
Woah, woah
Woah, woah
Woah, woah
And I went on down that road

 

Quite a good bit of post-Sgt. Pepper's Beatles could easily go on here.

 

I've always thought Bob Dylan's 115th Dream was written whilst on a drug / booze fuelled bender.

 

Spoiler: Drop down box for lyrics

I am tall and I am thin
Of an enviable height
And I've been known to be quite handsome
In a certain angle and a certain light

Well I entered into O'Malley's
I said, "O'Malley I have a thirst"
O'Malley merely smiled at me
Said "You wouldn't be the first"

I knocked on the bar and pointed
To a bottle on the shelf
And as O'Malley poured me out a drink
I sniffed and crossed myself

My hand decided that the time was nigh
And for a moment it slipped from view
When it returned, it fairly burned
With confidence anew

Well the thunder from my steely fist
Made all the glasses jangle
When I shot him, I was so handsome
It was the light, it was the angle

Huh! Hmm...

"Neighbours!" I cried, "Friends!" I screamed
I banged my fists upon the bar
"I bear no grudge against you!"
And my dick felt long and hard

"I am the man for which no God waits
But for which the whole world yearns
And I'm marked by darkness and by blood
And by a thousand powder-burns"

Well, you know those fish with the swollen lips
That clean the ocean floor
When I looked at poor old O'Malley's wife
Well that's exactly what I saw

I jammed the barrel under her chin
And her face looked raw and vicious
Her head it landed in the sink
With all the dirty dishes

And her little daughter Siobhan
Pulled beers from dusk till down
And amongst the town folk she was a bit of a joke
But she pulled the best beer in town

Well I swooped magnificent upon her
As she sat shivering in her grief
Like the Madonna painted on the church-house wall
In whale's blood and banana leaf

Her throat crumbled in my hands
And I spun heroically around
To see Caffrey rising from his seat
I shot that mother ****er down

Mmm... Yeah, yeah, yeah...

"I have no free will", I sang
And I flew about the murder
Mrs. Richard Holmes, she screamed —
You really should have heard her

Well, I sang and I laughed, I howled and I wept,
I panted like a pup
I blew a hole in Mrs. Richard Holmes
And her husband stupidly stood up

As he screamed, "You are an evil man!"
And I paused a while to wonder
"If I have no free will then how can I
Be morally culpable?" I wonder

I shot Richard Holmes in the stomach
Gingerly he sat down
And he whispered weirdly, "No offence"
And then lay upon the ground

"None taken", I replied to him
To which he gave a little cough
And with blazing wings I neatly aimed
Blew his head completely off

I've lived in this town for thirty years
To no-one I am a stranger
And I put new bullets in my gun
Chamber upon chamber

And I turned my gun on the bird-like Mr. Brooks
I thought of Saint Francis and his sparrows
And as I shot down the youthful Richardson
It was Sebastian I thought of, and his arrows

Hmm mmm yeah
Yeah! Listen, listen...

I said, "I want to introduce myself
And I am glad that all you came"
And I leapt upon the bar
And I shouted down my name

Well Jerry Bellows, he hugged his stool
Closed his eyes and shrugged and laughed
And with an ashtray big as a ****ing really big brick
I split his skull in half

His blood spilled across the bar
Like a steaming scarlet brook
And then I knelt there at its edge on the counter
Wiped the tears away and looked

Well, the light in there it was blinding
Full of God and ghosts and truth
And I smiled at Henry Davenport
Who made no attempt to move

Well, from the position I was standing
The strangest thing I ever saw
The bullet entered through the top of his chest
And blew his bowels out on the floor

And I floated down the counter,
Showing no remorse
I shot a hole in Kathleen Carpenter
— recently divorced

But remorse I felt, remorse I had
It clung to every thing
From the raven hair upon my head
To the feathers on my wings

Then I squeezed my hand in its fraudulent claw
With its golden hairless chest
And I glided through the bodies
And killed the fat man, Vincent West

Who sat quietly in his chair
A man become a child
And I raised the gun up to his head
Executioner-style

He made no attempt to resist
So fat and dull and lazy
"Did you know that I live in your street?" I said
And he looked at me like I was crazy

"Oh", he said, "I had no idea"
And he grew as quiet as a mouse
Well the roar of the pistol when it went off
Near blew the hat right off the house

Hmm uh hmm uh hmm uh
Yeah, peah
Hmm mmm ha ah...

Well, I caught my eye in the mirror
And gave it a long and loving inspection
"There stands some kind of man", I roared
And then did in the reflection

My hair combed back like a raven's wing
My muscles hard and tight
And curling from the business end of my gun
Was a query-mark of cordite

Well I spun to the left, I spun to the right,
I spun to the left again
"Fear me! Fear me! Fear me!"
But no one did cause they were dead

Huh! Hmm
Oh oh yeah! Hmm!
Mmm hmmm mmm hmmm yeah

And then there were the police sirens wailing and
And then a bull-horn squelched and blared
"Drop your weapons and come out
With your hands held in the air"

Well, I checked the chamber of my gun
Saw I had one final bullet left
My hand, it looked almost human
As I raised it bravely to my head

"Drop your weapon and come on out!
Keep your hands above your head!"
I had one one long hard think about dying
And did exactly what they said

There must have been fifty cops out there
In a circle round O'Malley's bar
"Don't shoot", I cried, "I'm a man unarmed!"
So they put me in their car

And they sped me away from that terrible scene
And I glanced out of the window
Saw O'Malley's bar, saw the cops and the cars
And I started counting on my fingers

Aaaaah one aaaaaah two aaaaaaah three aaaaaah

Mmmmmmm O'Malley's bar
Mmmmmmm O'Malley's bar
Mmmmmmm O'Malley's bar...

 

Everyone's beneath the trees teeding pigeons on a limb
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here all the pigeons gonna run to him...

 

1. A 'Deuce Coupe' is a 1932 Ford Model B Coupe (deuce being for the year). This was considered by many to be the definitive "hot rod" and featured an optional Ford flathead V8 engine when the car was introduced.
   
   So there!

 

but if yuo ask me. if some of you thickso's new what a mettafour was then their,d be no kneed four this thread if you ask me. i no my onions, and can reed a simelee or a allegorical beter than you dim whits. Ex-specally vespaman who is never aound when the clever stuf is been disgussed is he¿ i wunder why. probubly away roughing up the suspect and making floor babies if you ask me.