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Post by xenaswolf on Sept 20, 2007 8:59:21 GMT -5
How about I LOVE ROCK N ROLL by the great Joan Jett  |
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blarneystone
spending too much on rocks
Rocks in my head
Member since March 2010
Posts: 307
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Post by blarneystone on Sept 20, 2007 9:03:29 GMT -5
Long Live Rock!! - The WHO!
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stefan
Cave Dweller 
Member since January 2005
Posts: 14,113
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Post by stefan on Sept 20, 2007 12:23:38 GMT -5
It's only Rock and Roll but I like it!
And DUH
SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND!!!!
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karenfh
fully equipped rock polisher
Member since November 2006
Posts: 1,495
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Post by karenfh on Sept 20, 2007 15:29:33 GMT -5
I can't wait to show this thread to Matt when he gets home from school. He's my 'rock dictionary' dude! He DJs at the local Eagles club, and plays the oldies for all of us oldies.
What a hoot!
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Post by beefjello on Sept 20, 2007 19:54:03 GMT -5
Montrose.. Rock Candy!
When you need a friend, through thick and thin
Don't look to those above you.
When you're down and out, ain't no doubt
Nobody wants you.
But you're rock candy baby
Hard, sweet and sticky.
Rock candy baby
Hard, sweet and sticky.
When you're seventeen, reachin' for your dreams
Don't let no one reach it for you.
Pull up your pants,
Stretch out take a chance.
If it can be done, you can do it.
You're rock candy baby
Hard, sweet and sticky.
Rock candy baby
Hard, sweet and sticky
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Post by LCARS on Oct 3, 2007 21:31:39 GMT -5
Just when you thought this thread was going away...  Iggy Pop with the Teddy Bears - Punk Rocker[/size]
See me drivin down the street
I'm bored with looking good
I got both hands off the wheel
The cops are coming
I'm listening to the music with no fear
You can hear it too if you're sincere
Cuz i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Cuz i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well i'm a punk rocker yes I am
I see you stagger in the street
And you cant stay on your feet
And your faking in your sleep
You wish that you were deep
You can't hear me laughing to myself
If you could you would be someone else
Cuz i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Cuz i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well i'm a punk rocker yes I am
See me die on bleaker street
I'm bored with being god
See me sneering in my car
I'm driving to my star
I'm listening to the music with no fear
You can hear it too if you're sincere
Cuz i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Cuz i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well i'm a punk rocker yes I am
Cuz I'm a punk rocker yes I am
Well I'm a punk rocker yes I am
[/color] C'mon people, there has to be enough good rock tunes out there to put together a half decent MP3 disc so keep looking!  |
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Post by Condor on Oct 3, 2007 22:58:03 GMT -5
Rock Like an Egyptian. (Sorry, speech impediment.)
Condor
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adrian65
Cave Dweller
Arch to golden memories and to great friends.
Member since February 2007
Posts: 10,790
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Post by adrian65 on Oct 3, 2007 23:30:00 GMT -5
I'm a country music fan, so here's my add:
Mary Chapin Carpenter - Stones In The Road
When we were young, we pledged allegiance every morning of our lives
The classroom rang with children's voices under teacher's watchful eye
We learned about the world around us at our desks and at dinnertime
Reminded of the starving children, we cleaned our plates with guilty minds
And the stones in the road shone like diamonds in the dust
And then a voice called to us to make our way back home
When I was ten, my father held me on his shoulders above the crowd
To see a train draped in mourning pass slowly through our town
His widow kneeled with all their children at the sacred burial ground
And the TV glowed that long hot summer with all the cities burning down
And the stones in the road flew out beneath our bicycle tires
Worlds removed from all those fires as we raced each other home
And now we drink our coffee on the run, we climb that ladder rung by rung
We are the daughters and the sons, and here's the line that's missing
The starving children have been replaced by souls out on the street
We give a dollar when we pass, and hope our eyes don't meet
We pencil in, we cancel out, we crave the corner suite
We kiss your ass, we make you hold, we doctor the receipt
And the stones in the road fly out from beneath our wheels
Another day, another deal, before we get back home
And the stones in the road leave a mark from whence they came
A thousand points of light or shame, baby, I don't know
Adrian
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rockinmom
spending too much on rocks
Member since January 2007
Posts: 481
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Post by rockinmom on Oct 3, 2007 23:33:28 GMT -5
What a great thread. Good idea! I'll have to do a few downloads to my MP3 player now!  |
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Post by sandsman1 on Oct 4, 2007 11:41:15 GMT -5
THICK AS A BRICK
JETHRO TULL
Really don't mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper -- your deafness a SHOUT.
I may make you feel but I can't make you think.
Your sperm's in the gutter -- your love's in the sink.
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
the tidal destruction
the moral melee.
The elastic retreat rings the close of play as the last wave uncovers
the newfangled way.
But your new shoes are worn at the heels and
your suntan does rapidly peel and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the love that I feel is so far away:
I'm a bad dream that I just had today -- and you
shake your head and
say it's a shame.
Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
Spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.
See there! A son is born -- and we pronounce him fit to fight.
There are black-heads on his shoulders, and he pees himself in the night.
We'll
make a man of him
put him to trade
teach him
to play Monopoly and
to sing in the rain.
The Poet and the painter casting shadows on the water --
as the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea.
The do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other --
as the failing light illuminates the mercenary's creed.
The home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling --
but the master of the house is far away.
The horses stamping -- their warm breath clouding
in the sharp and frosty morning of the day.
And the poet lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword.
And the youngest of the family is moving with authority.
Building castles by the sea, he dares the tardy tide to wash them all aside.
The cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river
where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea:
the builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose
and contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need.
The young men of the household have
all gone into service and
are not to be expected for a year.
The innocent young master -- thoughts moving ever faster --
has formed the plan to change the man he seems.
And the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword.
And the oldest of the family is moving with authority.
Coming from across the sea, he challenges the son who puts him to the run.
What do you do when
the old man's gone -- do you want to be him? And
your real self sings the song.
Do you want to free him?
No one to help you get up steam --
and the whirlpool turns you `way off-beam.
LATER.
I've come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways.
My father was a man-of-power whom everyone obeyed.
So come on all you criminals!
I've got to put you straight just like I did with my old man --
twenty years too late.
Your bread and water's going cold.
Your hair is too short and neat.
I'll judge you all and make damn sure that no-one judges me.
You curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone -- you meet the stares.
You're unaware that your doings aren't done.
And you laugh most ruthlessly as you tell us what not to be.
But how are we supposed to see where we should run?
I see you shuffle in the courtroom with
your rings upon your fingers and
your downy little sidies and
your silver-buckle shoes.
Playing at the hard case, you follow the example of the comic-paper idol
who lets you bend the rules.
So!
Come on ye childhood heroes!
Won't you rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super crooks
and show us all the way.
Well! Make your will and testament. Won't you?
Join your local government.
We'll have Superman for president
let Robin save the day.
You put your bet on number one and it comes up every time.
The other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line.
And so you finally ask yourself just how big you are --
and take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars.
And you wonder who to call on.
So! Where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you though?
They're all resting down in Cornwall --
writing up their memoirs for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual.
LATER.
See there! A man born -- and we pronounce him fit for peace.
There's a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease.
We'll
take the child from him
put it to the test
teach it
to be a wise man
how to fool the rest.
QUOTE
We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional
God is an overwhelming responsibility
we walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons
cats are on the upgrade
upgrade? Hipgrave. Oh, Mac.
LATER
In the clear white circles of morning wonder,
I take my place with the lord of the hills.
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured (in neat little rows)
sporting canvas frills.
With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention,
while queueing for sarnies at the office canteen.
Saying -- how's your granny and
good old Ernie: he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win.
The legends (worded in the ancient tribal hymn) lie cradled
in the seagull's call.
And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall.
The poet and the wise man stand behind the gun,
and signal for the crack of dawn.
Light the sun.
Do you believe in the day? Do you?
Believe in the day! The Dawn Creation of the Kings has begun.
Soft Venus (lonely maiden) brings the ageless one.
Do you believe in the day?
The fading hero has returned to the night -- and fully pregnant with the day,
wise men endorse the poet's sight.
Do you believe in the day? Do you? Believe in the day!
Let me tell you the tales of your life of
your love and the cut of the knife
the tireless oppression
the wisdom instilled
the desire to kill or be killed.
Let me sing of the losers who lie in the street as the last bus goes by.
The pavements ar empty: the gutters run red -- while the fool
toasts his god in the sky.
So come all ye young men who are building castles!
Kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
Mark the precise nature of your fear.
Let me help you pick up your dead as the sins of the father are fed
with
the blood of the fools and
the thoughts of the wise and
from the pan under your bed.
Let me make you a present of song as
the wise man breaks wind and is gone while
the fool with the hour-glass is cooking his goose and
the nursery rhyme winds along.
So! Come all ye young men who are building castles!
Kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus.
Mark the precise nature of your fear.
See! The summer lightning casts its bolts upon you
and the hour of judgement draweth near.
Would you be
the fool stood in his suit of armour or
the wiser man who rushes clear.
So! Come on ye childhood heroes!
Won't your rise up from the pages of your comic-books
your super-crooks and
show us all the way.
Well! Make your will and testament.
Won't you? Join your local government.
We'll have Superman for president
let Robin save the day.
So! Where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?
They're all resting down in Cornwall -- writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition of the Boy Scout Manual.
OF COURSE
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
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Post by sandsman1 on Oct 4, 2007 12:13:53 GMT -5
JETHRO TULL
Too Old to Rock 'n' Roll: Too Young to Die
The old Rocker wore his hair too long,
wore his trouser cuffs too tight.
Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light.
Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams ---
the transport caf' prophet of doom.
Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams
in his post-war-babe gloom.
Now he's too old to Rock'n'Roll but he's too young to die.
He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville.
Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs
and prays that he always will.
But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys
all of his mates are doing time:
married with three kids up by the ring road
sold their souls straight down the line.
And some of them own little sports cars
and meet at the tennis club do's.
For drinks on a Sunday --- work on Monday.
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes.
Now they're too old to Rock'n'Roll and they're too young to die.
So the old Rocker gets out his bike
to make a ton before he takes his leave.
Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner
just like it used to be.
And as he flies --- tears in his eyes ---
his wind-whipped words echo the final take
and he hits the trunk road doing around 120
with no room left to brake.
And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll but he was too young to die.
No, you're never too old to Rock'n'Roll if you're too young to die.
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Post by Tonyterner on Oct 5, 2007 13:13:53 GMT -5
OK I'll play. For all you 70's disco fans, Hues Corportation - Rock the Boat
So I'd like to know where, you got the notion
said I'd like to know where, you got the notion
to rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby
rock the boat, don't tip the boat over
rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby
rock the boat-t-t-t-t
Ever since our voyage of love began
your touch has thrilled me like the rush of the wind
and your arms have held me safe from a rolling sea
there's always been a quiet place to harbor you and me
Our love is like a ship on the ocean
we've been sailing with a cargo full of, love and devotion
So I'd like to know where, you got the notion
said I'd like to know where, you got the notion
To rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby
rock the boat, don't tip the boat over
rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby
rock the boat-t-t-t-t
Up to now we sailed through every storm
and I've always had your tender lips to keep me warm
oh I need to have the strength that flows from you
don't let me drift away my dear, when love can see me through
Our love is like a ship ...
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Post by Tonyterner on Oct 5, 2007 13:15:46 GMT -5
How about Big Rock Candy Mountain
One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
Where the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains
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Post by Tonyterner on Oct 5, 2007 13:21:07 GMT -5
One more 70's tune, Kiss - Detroit Rock City
I feel uptight on a Saturday night
Nine o' clock, the radio's the only light
I hear my song and it pulls me through
Comes on strong, tells me what I got to do
I got to
Get up
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City
Get up
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
Getting late
I just can't wait
Ten o'clock and I know I gotta hit the road
First I drink, then I smoke
Start up the car, and I try to make the midnight show
Get up
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
Movin' fast, doin' 95
Hit top speed but I'm still movin' much too slow
I feel so good, I'm so alive
I hear my song playin' on the radio
It goes
Get up
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City
Twelve o'clock, I gotta rock
There's a truck ahead, lights starin' at my eyes
Oh my God, no time to turn
I got to laugh 'cause I know I'm gonna die
Why
Get up
Everybody's gonna move their feet
Get down
Everybody's gonna leave their seat
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emyhro4048
spending too much on rocks
Member since March 2007
Posts: 396
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Post by emyhro4048 on Oct 5, 2007 14:03:19 GMT -5
Diamond's and Rust-Joan Baez
"If your offering me diamonds and rust, I've already paid".
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