Quality lines in a song!

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'Your feline beauy is physical proof that
love is a woman, love is the truth.
Well I ain't no woman, that's for sure,
I'll say anything to get you on the floor

You look so fine, pure and good,
I wanna throw you on the ground, babe,
and cover you in mud.

Silver tongued, but I ain't no liar,
baby, baby, baby, set my bed on fire.

I'm the tattooed beat messiah,
Ain't nobody gonna take you higher.

I'm the reverb saint, I'm the king of flies,
I think you guessed, I ain't like other guys.
Lay down, lie back, shut up, submit,
peel it off baby, this is it.
I've got a six-shooting schizo psycho rod,
kiss the barrel baby, meet your god.
Sparkle dust at my finger tips,
gonna burn your butt, bruise your lips.

I'm the tattooed beat messiah,
Ain't nobody gonna take you higher.

This gun never waits, this gun devastates.
Crystal clear, I've got a diamond shot,
gonna kill you twice, baby, I'm red hot.
Lots of girls tried, they lied and died,
got too close to the starry host.
Grease, baby, dirt trash, sex appeal,
zip, fly, pop, I feel too real.
Kill me, tattooed beat messiah'

They don't write 'em like they used to... brings a tear to your eye :010: :010: :010: :042:
 
Melton Fox said:
What was you watching last night?:icon_bigg
Click to expand...

Yep, its great, those repeats. Last week was the one where Brent and Finchy win the quiz by throwing Tim's show over the building.

He was going to release it as a single with Noel Gallacher on guitar.
 
Hazzman said:
Yep, its great, those repeats. Last week was the one where Brent and Finchy win the quiz by throwing Tim's show over the building.

He was going to release it as a single with Noel Gallacher on guitar.
Click to expand...
"Well he's thrown a shoe over a pub, what have you done?"
 
Husband don't know what he's done
Kids don't know what's wrong with mum
She can't say, they can't see, putting it down to another bad day
Daddy don't know what he's done
Kids don't know what's wrong with mum

SO THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO BE LONELY
THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO BE SMALL
THIS IS HOW IT FEELS WHEN YOUR WORD MEANS NOTHING AT ALL

There's a funeral in the town, some guy from the top estate
Seems they found him under a train, and yet he had it all on a plate

SO THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO BE LONELY
THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO BE SMALL
THIS IS HOW IT FEELS WHEN YOUR WORD MEANS NOTHING AT ALL

Husband don't know what he's done
Kids don't know what's wrong with mum
She can't say, they can't see, putting it down to another bad day

SO THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO BE LONELY
THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO BE SMALL
THIS IS HOW IT FEELS WHEN YOUR WORD MEANS NOTHING AT ALL
 
Now you are really ridiculing the Highland man :081: Leave him alone
 
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train-some great lyrics

Now that she’s back in the atmosphere,
I’m afraid that she might think of me as plain ol’ Jane
Told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly
So he never did land
--------------------------------------
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself?

--------------------------
In every frame upon our wall
Lies a face that’s seen it all
Through ups and downs and then more downs
We helped each other off of the ground
No one knows what we’ve been through
Making it ain’t making it without you
 
There was one in a gang,
Who had Scalextric,
And because of that,
He thought he was better than you.
Everyday after school,
You'd go around there to play it,
Hoping to compete for some kind championship,
And it always took about 15 billion hours to set the track up.
And even when you did, the thing never seemed to work.

It was a dodgy transformer, again and again.
A dodgy transformer, again and again.
It was a dodgy transformer, again and again.
A dodgy transformer, cost 3 pounds 10.

So he sent his doting mother
Up the stairs with the stepladder,
To get the Subbuteo,
Out of the loft.
He had all the accessories,
Required for that big-match atmosphere.
The crowd and the dugout,
And the floodlights, too.
And you'd always get palmed off
With a headless center-forward,
And a goal-kicker with no arms,
And a face like his.

And he'd managed to get hold of
A Dukla-Prague Away Kit,
His uncle owned a sport shop
And he'd kept it to one side.
And after only five minutes
You'd be down to ten men,
Because he'd sent off your right back for taking the base from under his left winger.
Come to half-time, you were losing, four-nil.
Each and every goal, a hotly disputed penatly.

So you smash up the floodlights
And the game was abandoned,
And the dog would bark
And you'd be banned from his house.
And your travelling army
Of synthetic supporters
Would be taken away from you
And thrown in the bin.

And now he's working
In a job with a future.
He hands me my Gyro (as in gyroscope, not "hero")
Every two weeks.
And me, I'm on the lookout
For a proper transformer
 
You have never been in love,
Until you've seen the stars,
reflect in the resevoirs

And you have never been in love,
Until you've seen the dawn rise,
behind the home for the blind

We are the pretty petty thieves,
And you're standing on our street..

...where Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die. Oh my.
Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die. Oh my.

You have never been in love,
Until you've seen the sunlight thrown
over smashed human bones

We are the pretty petty thieves,
And you're standing on our street..

...where Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die. Such a silly boy.
Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and a bullet in his gullet
and the first lost lad to go under the sod.


And he stole from the rich and the poor
and the not-very-rich and the very poor
and he stole all hearts away
he stole all hearts away
he stole all hearts away
he stole all hearts away
 
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