JOHN DENVER lyrics - Take Me To Tomorrow

Amsterdam

Original and similar lyrics
(Brel & Shuman) In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sings of the dreams that he brings from the wide open seas. In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sleeps while the riverbank weeps through the old willow trees. In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who dies full of beer, full of cries in a drunken down fight. In the port of Amsterdam, there a sailor who's born on a muggy hot morn, by the dawn's early light. In the port of Amsterdam, where the sailors all meet, there's a sailor who eats only fish heads and tails. He will show you his teeth that have rotted too soon that can swallow the moon, that can haul up the sail. And he yells to the cook with his arms open wide, bring me more fish, put it down by my side. And he wants so to belch, but he's too full to try so he gets up and he laughs, and he zips up his fly. In the port of Amsterdam, you can see sailors dance, haunchs bursting their pants, grinding women to paunch. They've forgotten the tune that their whisky voice croaked, and they're spitting the night with the roar of their jokes. And they turn and they dance, and they laugh and they lust to the rancid sound of the accordian's burst. then it's out into the night with their pride in their pants and a slut that they tow underneath the street lamps. In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who drinks. and he drinks, and he drinks, and he drinks once again. He drinks to the health of the whores of Amsterdam who have promised their love to a thousand other men. And they bargain their bodies and their virtue, long gone, for a few dirty coins, and when he can't go on, he plants his nose in the sky and we wipes it up above then he splits like I cry for an unfaithful love, in the port of Amsterdam, in the port of Amsterdam, in the port of Amsterdam.

Cats Van Bags

ATMOSPHERE "Seven's Travels"
[Intro] I can't scratch, cause I'm drunk I got bad teeth and my gums are bleeding Come and fucking get me, motherfucker Yeah, break, start the song now, fucker [Verse 1] [Slug] We travelin the missle, weavin' through your cornfields Leavin behind a trail of amature porn and orange peels Navagatin through this basement, the masquerades As our nation, practicin' my acid take, masturbation Watchin the expressions on the faces Of the ones designated to be the queens, kings, and aces How many miles can you put on one soul Before the smile starts to blend into one big bullet hole [Brother Ali] Shoot through it as a union, with the best of my crew Bumpin melodies and memories too, my heads killin me, ohh Stomach empty, my bladder is full Two years old son on Jay Birds phone Cryin, ya missin me And I'm stallin', I'll bite ya arm off Sabertooth Tiger, run the night with the sharp claws In ya backyard just to fuck with ya guard dog Throw a brick through your shit and cut the alarm off Bitch [Slug] Fuck yes, I do my best to take advantage in bouts With one hand over the mouth, still managin' to shout Theres more said, then in the lines in your forehead Then could ever try to find print on the inside of that warhead Cross country, like a little lost junky Make them hot and jumpy, trying to get that God money Stearin the van through the blizzards, the fanfare Pivit when we visit, spit victim if you stand there [Brother Ali] Take a map of this picture, throw a dart at it, thats where We took a room back full the kids and threw a heart at it Angry like a hostage, Kickin like a little bitch in one of Dibs's mosh pits Shifitin through your city limits tryin to find the raw shit Thread and needle wit it, and weave a world of hate together, till we get 'em car sick Face full of war paint, strapped ready for action Battle cracks headin, trying to seek the satisfaction of the captain [Slug] Climbed over the side, closed his eyes Took a dive into his fame, inspiration for stayin alive Swam to the shore, stepped upon land Walked up to a whore, grabbed her by the hand And said [Chorus] [Slug & Brother Ali] Let the wheels spin, let the road shake Let the speakers blow Let the line in, let the kids play Let the people know Let the roof burn, let the girls love Let the heat flow Let the world turn, let the curtains up Cats Van Bags, Yo [Verse 2] [Brother Ali] Lock eyes, with a thousand people at the same time They minds, believin this, my style of graffiti is Squeezin this, the mid west, sweat out of my shirt And leavin with my life essence embedded in ya dirt [Slug] We work, move, and hustle with the rest of the Gypsies Spoon feed these issues to a new school of Fishes Swimmin through a hazy shade of passion Here they come, the Hazleton has-been, and his chaplin [Brother Ali] Thats them, the migrants, seasonal workers The finest imperial wordsmiths on the circuit Two Million smiles and runnin, stompin', trying to flee the heat Turn around, shootin at the monster till his knees are weak [Slug] They call me Jesus Freak, I came to listen Then I save you, then I make you, my favorite position Chasin' this pigeon down the street towards the banks Just in case, my traffic receives jeeps and tanks [Bridge] [Slug] And we wonder through the snow(?), so let it be known Mama I don't know if I'ma ever be home The revolution wont have any distribution I love my son and my music so I gotta keep it movin' Like [Chorus] [Slug & Brother Ali] Let the wheels spin, let the road shake Let the speakers blow Let the line in, let the kids play Let the people know Let the roof burn, let the girls love Let the heat flow Let the world turn, let the curtains up Cats Van Bags, Yo

Souls From The Streets (1994)

JEDI MIND TRICKS "The Psycho-Social, Chemical, Biological, And Electro-Magnetic Manipulation ..."
[Verse 1] My mathematical powers devour cowards as I spra words Like acid rain showers, nations, you can't face them Erase them or I praise them, as my mind excites the wind Like spirits of ill concensions, time will clash On ya cipher, lyric concealed behind whirlwind fire Or flood, draw blood from wack souls as I smack hoes Live concensive, or yes 'em, it's damage That my sintex causes, is irrepreble Cuz vanity of my insanity force ya whole click to be divided You have just bear witnessed to dub side united [Verse 2] Who do you love? Bugs, styles and fresh And numb somes of soul, witchcraft The clutch is the archer's mode, and sure plot Of device, we shot twice, after the same arrow Rush through life, it's off this slug Advise me with words from death, and new com battles Far time left, and pure shot plug that way You marathron, let me down to grace the plate Full stagnant, touch I, but revamp the squad Gettin' loops, saviate on contact [Verse 3] The triflyn four fists, sparks another spliff Bodies left stiff, you can't fuck with my ruggedness My gunshots is leaving niggaz on they asses Smoking all the canibus, like the weed savage Rip dimensions and it matters, take an L You no challenge, I blow up, ya muthafuckin' brain cells And leave you legal, the slang tongue spigel Cocks back the fifth, teflon starts to seek it Criminals on a move, set a threat Sip the moet, and let off the twin techs to ya muthafuckin' chest [samples] [Verse 4] I speak double-double, cause double trouble never do I rumble On a rule, my microphone sever clones It's beyond binocalurs, sence the moody, six chromosomes I'm no more less, no need to flex the evil, trip with the clip I got the 6-1-0 flow, and 0 and 2 is my zip Yo, so call me out in Philly when you down to flip No frill skills, or freestylin' when y'all wildin' I broke cats all the way live, on Velly's Long Island I visualize cream, tech's scrap with infered beams Stash keys, and tease, lickin' back so y'all can My click of criminals, flippin' confortable My pockets full of benjamins, fool surrending When I'm blendin' in, dub side invincible Imperial, for lyrical tactics I react with signs to get ya ass kicked Indeed the face of evil, is the face told by me So I proceed to bleed my people, niggaz say I'm too cerebral Lies, dub side, flippin' perfection through your section Sanity's slippin', whose the next victim to catch a bless [Verse 5] Set a threat, I rip the mic and run race like an auto practice I inflect this verse leavin' heads in they casket Watch this nappy headed villain, brutal torture is illegal I back down clowns with a four pound, as I defeat you Insert the lyrical slugs, that straight's very A nickel plated verse I spit like a hollow tip steady Constantly, drop ya wack back with fire weapon This adolescent, keeps a clip full for street protection Ain't nothing complex about the way I cock my biscuit I set and threat it, bust that tech son, it's not explicit Exquisite, in divine rhymes I drop like jewels The mic I abuse when I choose to break fool [samples] [Verse 6] With this course, I force many emcees out the galaxy Challenge me, I rip apart flows with analogy Now with me, got that establish and wrap ya cabbage with styles You can't manage to damage or even fathom the mental capacity Cuz I harass these wack emcee's, in degrees I splatter universe, and mountain casaulties In the dark, my squad sells, blowin' ya conscience My assumptions, ethotical, unstoppable, anthological I pull the trigger with mystical, my poetic Rip fanatics up, and rich with the sinical [Verse 7] Coming back from the city of Atlantic, it's the hispanic Causing mad panic, with fat static for ya addict Automatic, I stick shift quick if you test me Left the ciphers, layin' lifers, seen in one spot and attended That you get ya crews bruised in black and blues Put ya name and age on the front page, of the newspaper I drape my hood up on my carriage, damage faggots Quit the habits, feedin' on emcee's on maggots Inspect ya gadgets, my style switches cause I flick it Return the mic, fixin' stitches, cause I ripped it [Verse 8] I can't stand like a maniac depressin' That's been submerged in subterrarian eutopia Why's the mansion that I'm representin' Is the feel competitin' in suburbs Which has regenerated the etaric That kicks the subterric poetry on this plain of obscurity One element, top lyricist Intellectin' with, d-u-b squad of imperialist With an innevator as the dictator So we can see you, liver clues with side and system views Heads emulate but can't duplicate, cause this side Can't be tugged, yo, one love

Nickel Plated Pockets

AESOP ROCK "Daylight"
[INTRO: Vast Aire & Aesop conversing] Yo, (Alright Ok) Can I get a quarter or something? Little hungry, you know what I'm saying? (Alright Ok) Homeless... I need a Lucy yo... (Yo...) [VERSE ONE] Walk into the store with a pocket full of nickels And a city full of horns, jackhammers, and rape whistles The alley cats manipulate the blocks with gutter magic Today my heart beats only out of habit Check it, it's like.. My man Jus used to keep an ox between his teeth Said he could spit it with pinpoint accuracy if there was beef We chuckled out loud Still the thought of it intrigued me, (right) So now I keep a jackal under my tongue to spit with related reasoning The earthworm turbulent murder burnout Gerber baby no brain or memoir stardom Alarmed, pardon the old buzz deader Robert Crumb ugly dumb image Barely sprung barely no grimace Nearly cut cherry blood's picket wrist back in high school (now it's like) Spy with a millipede pentagon pirate navigates cities' sump systems Urbanite turbines Twisted Pistons Termites that infect sturdy grillage There's roaches in the pillars (Spillover) And crawl across commuter-clean wingtips and loafers It's the theme park I built Pocket full of nickels for cigarettes, gum and milk, bitterness, love, and violence I'm writing a petition to have smoking as a sport in the 2002 Summer Olympic Games (wanna sign it?) Now look, I jux germs draggin a gavel knee deep in a maggot hatchery Operation capture flag by any means If this means anything at all, anyway it's a riddle Walk into the store with a pocket full of nickels [SEGUE 1: Vast Aire & Aesop Conversing] Ay uh, yo excuse me (Ay Yo) yo Can I borrow a dollar or something? (Ah sorry man) nickel? (Sorry man, I can't help you out dog) Quarter? Something man? (Yeah I only got enough for like cigarettes and shit man) Alright man, I see how it is (I'm straight) [VERSE TWO] Walk into the store with a pocket full of nickels And a city full of World Trade Center victim candle vigils There's anthrax in our mailboxes and Xanax in my tummy There's a single Spanish female out west traveling the country Freak of [?] league lazer major running bases Neighborhood watch weasels pacing ugly acres more than often If I ever make it big, I'm gonna build a skyscraper tall enough to piss on cloud 9 egos from my corner office You can't pull the plug on a catapult (nope) I toss a nickel to a bum's cup from twenty paces thumbs up Got twenty ways to tell you shut the fuck up Nineteen of 'em are 24 bars long, the other one goes (SHUT THE FUCK UP!) And an electronic daddy long legs stay grimy up in your zoning wall Groveling villagers, trying to hide behind the windmill I just got in pig-back through subway tunnels with a third rail nearest While most still try to penetrate the alligator plants (It goes) Back in the class, throwing pencils at professors And making barbarellas giggle That's when life's pleasures were simple Now it takes a dancing bear jumping through flaming hoops to even make em buy the god-forsaken single! Though shall not desecrate the soothing spiral Altered by a classic cut to vinyl Find that in the Bible! My insult Militia'll fix you up I'll light the pyramid shaped torso with your hollow numbskull balancing on top Now if you got a lock and gas mask outside of your own apartment You could pretty safely quote Shamar Life's Ill, sometimes Life might kill, sometimes prayers dwindle Walk into the store with a pocket full of nickels [SEGUE 2: Vast Aire & Aesop Conversing] Yo (ay what's up man?) Yo can I ohh... No..Never mind man (I can't help you out man) Asshole! (Yo man, I'm trying to help myself out right now) Fucking asked you for a Lucy and you turned me down (Dog, I'm sorry dog!) [VERSE THREE] Walk into the store, same pocket, same nickels In a city where every crack in the sidewalk's a symbol Where there's crack in the basement, where there's crack in the slave ships Where there's crack whores and corrupt pigs killing cats trying to crack cases My boombox runs on a baboon heart transplant (This is hell!) I got a poltergeist on a leash trained by Caroline herself Two Thousand something... Technology aid itself glutton Every move I make's from a robot gepetto pressing a red button It's Vietnam in the fumes Yes I run with cannibals that bite the hand that feeds cuz it tastes better than the food The prickly outer shell's genetic, it helps defense mode But it also helps to fuck up a couple of sacred friendships Watch a six legged insect crawl out of the billy goat beard Watch a sick makeshift bitch threat fall out when the filthy smoke clears Watch the insect's stinger sting threat till it has sweat a bullet Sweat a full clip, sweat a river, dead the bullshit, sail away and wither You're the kind of cat that rolls a pimped out Caddy dropped with rims and limousine tints bucking Enya Insert laughter here I wanna rap a lot and stack cheddar by the fistful But for now, I walk into the store with a pocket full of huhh... [OUTRO: Vast Aire & Aesop conversing] Excuse me man (alright ok) Can I..Can I borrow a dollar or something to eat?... (alright ok) I'm..I'm hungry I'm saying yo...(alright ok) (Look at that..) I'm homeless man (Look at that bum) (alright ok) I fought for this country man (yeah) Sleep on park benches....starvin' All I need is like a lucy and like a sandwich or somethin' man.. Wiping my ass with the Daily News man...c'mon man.. Sleepin' with squirrels (Oh my god, What are you doing with that squirrel?)

Son Of A Son Of A Sailor

JIMMY BUFFETT "Son Of A Son Of A Sailor"
As the son of a son of a sailor, I went out on the sea for adventure, Expanding their view of the captain and crew Like a man just released from indenture. As a dreamer of dreams and a travelin' man, I have chalked up many a mile. Read dozens of books about heroes and crooks, And I've learned much from both of their styles. Son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor. Son of a gun; load the last ton One step ahead of the jailer. Now away in the near future, southeast of disorder, You can shake the hand of the mango man As he greets you at the border. And the lady she hails from Trinidad, Island of the spices. Salt for your meat and cinnamon sweet, And the rum is for all your good vices. Haul the sheet in as we ride on the wind that our Forefathers harnessed before us. Hear the bells ring as the tide rigging sings. It's a son of a gun of a chorus. Where it all ends I can't fathom, my friends. If I knew, I might toss out my anchor. So I'll cruise along always searchin' for songs, Not a lawyer, a thief or a banker. But a son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor. Son of a gun, load the last ton One step ahead of the jailer I'm just a son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor The sea's in my veins, my tradition remains. I'm just glad I don't live in a trailer.

Semi Automatic Full Rap Metal Jacket

Inspectah Deck
f/ U-God, Street Thug Yo, yo... Chorus: U-God You can't hack the tactics Of a semi-automatic full rap fanatic You can't hack the tactics Of a semi-automatic full rap fanatic Verse One: U-God I make mean lean when I pump my spunk and hands of chump, of machine gun funk I bliss, like the fist, of the mantis Those who oppose get dropped and hit the canvas With rigormor', I hit you in the core and pop your legs well in the figure four You can't stop the force when the blood is coursin extortion, I'm comin like the headless horseman Enforcin, tortureous slang from a fortune Swordsman, throw your rap corpse in coffins Don't pop glocks at me then cop a plea A hundred thousand leagues beneath the sea Deep depths makes rappers salted Weak rappers asses I cracks my foot, off in Lay down them lines with them hard hits And I'm harmin, bombin, with heavy bombardments Pushin, poetry, like weed by the pounds Underground railroad RZA track lay it down I'm hard as pavement, you gaze from amazement Knock you in the head you wonder where the days went It's golden bangles, microphone getting strangled Five-star general, scars you want to angle Bizarre thriller, war scar for a killer Sheisty mic device got my hand-piece throbbin Slice mics precise on down to ice carvings Chorus 2X Verse Two: Inspector Deck Yo I set the mic in flames, bomb like fighter planes MC's are shot down long range with sniper aim No question marks, the session starts with sparks My flows explodes like hand grenades through your parts Universal soldier, MO's the holder globe in both hands, born to be sole controller Hit the world full blast, my crime pays cash Slip past these cyphers and the flash from the photograph Best-seller compose a rough draft Razor Sharp vocabulary cut glass Actual facts crowds of thousands collapse You can't catch my style with bugs and phone taps Whether rhymes or crimes, I want mines regardless Hard targets, underground like black markets Pirates of the darkest water feel the aura Importer of rough raps that's snuck cross the border Semi-automatic attack'll spray y'all Liquid Sword swingin slay all, I'm AWOL Chorus 1.5X Verse Three: Street Thug Wu-Tang be, killin you softly with this song You won't survive the outcome I bring Def Jams to your eardrums P.L.O. hits the hardest, regardless Felony offenders catchin murder one charges Open cases, got me smoked out in staircases The dark crusader jackin cats in elevators I strike back like the Jedi, from N.Y. It's I illifyin, dope rhyme supplyin I be all you need to rock these mic devices Projectile Shaolin style exiles your juvenile freestyle I'm not your basic street entrepeneuer, crime tour, packs the luger High pursuit for the CREAM like the bodyguard from Bejing Inject you with the morphine, then I flee the murder scene On your facilities, the penalty, DOA Bomb shell your burrow like Bombay Opposites attack that's why these thieves stay strapped As we, travel the glove to put Shaolin on the map I show loyalty, to my fans fully Operational raps, that bust through your skully I'm rated second-to-none I be the top gun From the land of the Slums spittin blades from my tongue Park your slug slinger, hit you with the sleeper Hit-seeker, sounds that be a-ttackin your speaker Watch me bang the headpiece kid there's no survival My flow lights up the block like a homicidal Murder, underground beef for the burger P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of

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