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INDIGO GIRLS lyrics - Swamp Ophelia

The Wood Song

Original and similar lyrics
The Wood song The thin horizon of a plan is almost clear, my friends and I have had a tough time bruising our brains hard up against change; all the old dogs and the magician Now I see we're in the boat in two-by-twos, only the heart that we have for a tool we could use and the very close quarters are hard to get used to; love weighs the hull down with it's weight But the wood is tired, and the wood is old, and we'll make it fine, if the weather holds. But if the weather holds, we'll have missed the point; that's where I need to go. No way construction of this tricky plan was built by other than a greater hand with a love that passes all our understanding watching closely over the journey, yeah But what it takes to cross the great divide seems more that all the courage I can muster up inside. But we get to have some answers when we reach the other side The prize is always worth the rocky ride. But the wood is tired, and the wood is old, and we'll make it fine, if the weather holds. But if the weather holds, we'll have missed the point; that's where I need to go. Sometimes I ask to sneak a closer look; skip to the final chapter of the book and then maybe steer us clear from some of the pain it took to get us where we are this far. But the question drowns in it's futility, even I have got to laugh at me. No one gets to miss the storm of what will be just holding on for the ride. But the wood is tired, and the wood is old, and we'll make it fine, if the weather holds. But if the weather holds, we'll have missed the point; that's where I need to go.

300bps N,8,1

Information Society "Peace Love, Inc."
ATZ OK ATX3DT CONNECT 300 So we're supposed to play in Curitiba in 18 hours, but our bus is being held hostage by the local promoters. They've formed some unholy alliance with the Brazilian counterpart of ASCAP: The PRS. Apparently the PRS has the legal power to arrest people, and they want a piece of the national tour promoter's money. The local security force, Gang Mexicana , has been bought out for 1800 Cruzados and a carton of Marlboros each. The only faction still operating in our defense is Big John , our personal security man, and he's hiding in his room because a local gang is out for his blood because of a 1982 knifing incident in which he was involved. Our 345-pound road manager, Rick only had this to say: You wanted the life of a rock star! . Paul, Jim and I realized that this was one situation we were going to have to get out of ourselves. We convened a hasty conference in the hotel lobby. Paul suggested contacting our national tour promoter in Sao Paulo, but we remembered that he was in Recife with Faith No More, who had just arrived for their Brazilian tour. We thought about contacting our Brazilian record company in Rio, but they weren't home. Our ever-diligent American manager was arranging help of numerous forms, but he was in New York, and just too far away to get anything moving in time. And there were 6000 kids in Curitiba who just wouldn't understand. We knew it was time for action. Paul went up to the PRS guys and invited them into the bar to discuss it like civilized men over a few Brazilian drinks, offering each of them a cigar on his way. The amused PRS heavies seemed to like the idea of a few free drinks, even if they knew they would never give us our bus back. When Paul winked at Jim and I on his way in, we went into action. I stole off to my room to prepare while Jim went into action. Creeping carefully through a service duct, he managed to gain a vantage point some three meters above the bus, and dropped carefully onto the roof. After using his all-purpose Swiss Army knife (affectionately known as the skit knife ) to jimmy open the roof hatch, he went through the darkened inside of the bus and removed the inside engine service panel. Using some spare electronic parts he found while on an island in the Amazon, he wired the entire bus for remote control, not unlike a remote control toy car. At this point, he asked himself Now how shall I get out of here?!? Paul was having difficulties of his own. Couldn't you see your way clear to letting us fulfill our contractual obligations in Curitiba? Think of the kids! Through our translator, Fabio, the PRS man, Aldo, said: No. You Americans think you own the world. Hah! We'll burn down our rain forest if we damn well please. We need room for cows!! We want a McDonald's on every... oh, sorry, yes anyway, no. We need 40% of your concert receipts to give to David Bowie, he said, winking to the local promoter, Phillipe. As Paul continuted this elaborate distraction, Jim effected an escape from the heavily guarded bus by crawling down into the cargo bay, cutting a hole in the floor with the Swiss Army knife's arc-welder, slipping into the manhole cover situated under the bus, and walking up to the hotel's basement from there. Jim called up to me in my room and gave the signal. We were now to meet at the back entrance, with our tech guys. But first, Paul would need some help getting away from his unwelcome guests, as things were getting ugly. He says he has lost his patience, and that he can think of other ways of extracting payment from you Kurt and Jim physically, our trembling interpreter said. The moment had come. Jim began operating the bus from his back entrance vantage point. As the remote-controlled bus lurched towards the parking lot exit, the superstitious security youths fled in terror. Paul was pulling anxiously on his collar as the PRS man began describing his collection of World War II Nazi ceremonial knives when a sudden crash split the tableau. Jim had purchased me the gift of a complete black ninja stealth assassin outfit in Aracaju. I had been gearing up and crawling through the air conditioning ducts all this time. As I crashed through the cheap imitation-Styrofoam hung ceiling tiles, skates first, I flashed ninja stars all about me. In the ensuing panic, Paul escaped to the pre-arranged bus pick-up point. Unfortunately, my skates were a poor choice of foot gear for escaping over the broken glass of the table I had landed on. Were it not for the confusion and the ninja-star-inflicted-wounds delivered to the bad guys, I would have been set upon while floundering on the glass-strewn carpet. As it happened, however, I leapt through the open door of the careening bus as it departed the city of Maringa forever. If only we had managed to get our equipment in the bus, too . . . Every word of this story is true. - Kurt H NO CARRIER ATH0 OK ATZ OK

Everything Is Fine

JOSH TURNER "Everything Is Fine"
I got a home down on the river I'm married to the woman of my dreams Got a good truck that gets me down the highway Everything is perfect or so it seems Momma and daddy come by sometimes And everything is fine My old dog does a little singing Late at night when the moon gets bright Sunday morning hear the church bells ringing Let us go and see who's getting baptized We gonna take us a Sunday drive Cause everything is fine Everything is fine, fine, fine Through the sunshine and the rain I got a peace of mind You know I can't complain I make it a point to thank the Lord When I got Him on the line I'm feeling good and everything is fine Got the same job down at the warehouse Ain't never been rich but I sleep at night Got a little girl that looks like her mamma She likes it when her daddy tucks her in real tight One night this week we're gonna have a fish fry Cause everything is fine, fine, fine Through the sunshine and the rain I got a peace of mind You know I can't complain I make it a point to thank the Lord When I got Him on the line I'm feeling good and everything is fine Wahoo!! I make it a point to thank the Lord When I got Him on the line I'm feeling good and everything is fine I'm feeling good and everything is fine

Invisible Man

JOE BUDDEN "Mood Muzik 3: For Better Or For Worse"
(And you know why his name is On Point 'cause he on point pussy) [Intro - Joe Budden - talking] Uh, cheah Ah, ah, ch-cheah Taha Ah, ah, ah Goin, goin, go [DJ On Point - talking over Intro (echo)] As we continue on The name of this joint right here is called Invisible Man Featuring Emanny, shout to Chemo on the beat Shout to [Chorus - Emanny - w/ ad libs] Can anybody out there hear me? I feel like my voice is lost 'Cause I know the whole World can't see me, close to just fallin off But with everything I am, I still find a way to stand and keep movin While I'm here so strong and still, like I'm invisible [Verse 1 - Joe Budden] When I'm alone in my room, sometimes I stare at the wall With the phone off, near a withdrawal Got a paranoia problem, so I'm known to keep a trigger round y'all B.I.G. told me they be prayin for a nigga (Downfall) I'm vacationin on a beach with no sand (and, oh!) Tryin to check the time on a clock with no hands (what else?) Feel like I'm gettin close but I'm nowhere near it (AH!) I touch it but don't feel, listen but don't hear it (OH!) Starin out a project window under mad stresses Me and my mental got two different addresses One's national, Trump International, rational One is still stuck on the Avenue (oh) If you don't understand, fine (but my) My body's playin hinds with the mind, tryin to escape a landmine Revamped, designs I search but can't find Recant times when the future was a tan line (oh!) Damn, shit was much brighter then Now it's just vitamins mixed in with Vicodin If they gonna set you up to lose, why try to win? 'Cause a scar don't stop nothin on a Viking's skin So niggaz can come after me Even "Intelligent Hoodlums" become Tragedies (they become tragedies) I move in silence, the Jadakiss of Jers (why?) So when it come to Benjamins I don't say a word, ya heard? [Chorus - w/ ad libs] [Verse 2 - Joe Budden] See I can ball in the cufflinks Step out, tear down the party and the club scene But I think it's obscene, the lifestyles of the rich and shameless I pick anonymity over being famous From the start, even if they don't see it, I play a part Rather than sell a record, rather do it from the heart I rather put me before y'all I know niggaz might call it self-centered, I call that bein smart So I stand behind mics, not even worried about the limelight That'll manifest when the time's right If I was Kanye, I wouldn't have these problems (but then) But then I'd have Kanye's problems (cheah) Blessed with everything they ever fronted on the planet But loot's the only thing I ever wanted on the planet Back on that canvas, just lost my bandwidth Granted, I'm a always counter, granite I been where you tryin to go, the God said it So eggin me's not strong-minded, it's hard-headed Thought I was on the right route, tacklin the game 'Til they handcuffed my mouth, put the shackles on my brain Popular stranger, gone but still here Handicap my career, I put it in a wheelchair Let's keep the deal fair, nothin but real here (so!) Amazed after all these years I still care, it's weird [Chorus - w/ ad libs] [DJ On Point - talking over Chorus (echo)] Shout to Amadu, Junior My nigga Mitch Mitchell out in Vegas DJ On Point, Joe Budden, Mood Muzik 3

It The End Of The World As We Know It

R.E.M. "Document"
That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane - Lenny Bruce is not afraid. Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn - world serves its own needs, don't misserve your own needs. Feed it up a knock, speed, grunt no, strength no. Ladder structure clatter with fear of height, down height. Wire in a fire, represent the seven games in a government for hire and a combat site. Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry with the furies breathing down your neck. Team by team reporters baffled, trump, tethered crop. Look at that low plane! Fine then. Uh oh, overflow, population, common group, but it'll do. Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed. Tell me with the rapture and the reverent in the right - right. You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched. It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign tower. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn. Lock him in uniform and book burning, blood letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate. Light a candle, light a motive. Step down, step down. Watch a heel crush, crush. Uh oh, this means no fear - cavalier. Renegade and steer clear! A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline. It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. The other night I tripped a nice continental drift divide. Mountains sit in a line. Leonard Bernstein. Leonid Breshnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs. Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom! You symbiotic, patriotic, slam, but neck, right Right. It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine...fine... (It's time I had some time alone)

Hillary Swank

JOEY BADA$$ "Summer Knights"
We don't say swag no more we say swank [Verse 1:] Yo, yo, Hip-Hop's a jungle Uh, lost in his time I'm just tryna get it like a Porsche in it's prime These fake niggas sumblime, life of fine sights Visual fortune but the price ain't quite right The slice ain't quite ripe Still pulling strings how I fly but I don't like kites How they gon' treat Brooklyn's finest not as fine as diamonds? If I nice, surrounded by hard flow like Icelands Now we getting icing, finances nice And I don't like surprises, I like superb prices rising It's the least I could do, these verses priceless Rehearsing and bike in reverse her eyelid until she curse in silent Got a problem solve it, all my Pros saw this We all gon' die and until then we mobbing So don't push me, Uh, I'm close to the pussy, even Closer to the know-ledge dropped out of college In advance hit the ground running like it's ants in my pants Honey, pop was a bumbaclot and had a queen bee Mommy Uh, I love her to the tissue, disrespect my blood and it's an issue She like "This you on the cover for real? Ah you so official." Now go ahead and buy you some shoes that really fit you I know she always think of little me, but now I got big literally Worldwide and physically I'm saying I used to take walks around Little Italy Now I roam 'round Sicily And I'm plotting on a mili [Verse 2:] Hmmm another loud pack another proud cat Eight pound that, Hip-Hop sounds been profound back Slow down that, metronome nigga Let it hit home when the specimen showin' gold glitter Got an icy trigger, your true ideology I can subtract one with the gun that's true trigonometry But that won't coincide with the true nigga that I'm a be It's raw poverty I kicks philosophies Not because I rock Soccer tees I ain't gon' beg but I can plead Rocking socking sockets out your knees Fulfill your needs with similes not simiLIES Spit that unfamiliar, put that on familia For love Hip Hop, ladies rub your papillas Fellas beat they chest like they Silverback Gorillas It's the new age, children of the crystal healers Thinking I'm butterfly try catapult caterpillars [Outro: x2] After years of constructing they start the substance So I keep my circumference of deep fried friends like dumplings But fuck that nigga we munching, we hungry Swanking [x3] I see you Jigga! Hilary Swanking

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