Home | Search | FAQ
Displaying 1-8 of 8 messages in this thread. |
| Posted By | Discussion Topic: Saint Augustine | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| mckinks | posted on 12-11-2001 @ 8:50 PM |    | |||
| Psychopath Registered: Jan. 01  | by moe God is light Light is good God is good There's a bag lady siften through trash in my neighborhood Asked for a light, ya know I understood God is light Light is good God is good Where you gonna run when they come for you? Have you heard about the infant born with a handgun Shot his twin brother coming out now he's an only son He's a good boy, wait and see We'll rehabilitate him one-two-three God is light Light is good God is good Where you gonna run when they come for you? They'll hear you playing your guitar Hey Saint Augustine There's a flaw you see You've reasoned quite Illogically God is light Light is good God is good Where you gonna run when they come for you? They'll hear you playing your guitar God is light Light is good God is good Where you gonna run when they come for you? Where you gonna run when they come for you? Where you gonna run when they come for you?  "Some folks trust to reason others trust to might, I don't trust to nothin', but I know it comes out right." | ||||
King Shit *board owner* | posted on 12-11-2001 @ 9:00 PM | | |||
| O&A Board Veteran Registered: Feb. 01 | Steven Van Zandt SAINT FRANCIS The war stopped for a moment We held our breaths my brothers and I The poisoned sky'd stopped crying The red sun tried to shine We looked down from the mountain top And felt so alone This once was paradise This wasteland once was home Are you still alive inside baby That's all I need to know Without you my bloodlust Would have blinded me long ago I want to be your shelter But there's no shelter left on Earth I wish I could hide you But hiding only makes it worse Don't let your demons make you cry They'll all be gone by morning Don't let your spirits leave your side Stay close to the Earth - so you don't get burned Oh my sweet child how did you sleep last night She said, "I dreamed I saw Saint Francis" He came in the body of a lion and had tears in his eyes And he said, "It don't have to be this way" The masters of war keep marching Their work is never done The sacrifice continues In the form of God's most innocent ones The masters of religion Better learn a new way to love God never created anything Anything He's not part of Don't fear the light, don't shield your eyes it's only Holy fire Don't be afraid to look inside it's only your desire Don't deny your own desire There's a bad storm coming I believe it's coming our way The air is thick and cloudy The sky gets blacker everyday The rebel children are waiting - Their time is coming soon They face no future gamely - They've got nothing left to lose  I believe in the Faith... that can save me. I believe in the hope and I pray... That someday it may raise me... above these badlands | ||||
| mckinks | posted on 12-11-2001 @ 9:29 PM | | |||
| Psychopath Registered: Jan. 01 | Grateful Dead Lyrics: John Barlow Music: Bob Weir This must be heaven, tonight I cross the line. You must be the angel, I though I might never find. Was it you I heard singing, Oh while I was chasin' dreams. Driven by the wind, like the dust that blows around, And the rain fallin' down, but I never know. Got to be heaven, cause here's where the rainbow ends. If this ain't the real thing, then it's close enough to pretend. When that wind blows, when the night's about to fall. You can hear the silence call, it's a certain sort of sound, Like the rain fallin' down. Holes in what's left of my reason, holes in the knees of my blues. Odds against me been increasin', but I'll pull through. I never could read no road map, I don't know what the weather might do. But when that rich wind whines and I see the dark star shine, I got a feeling there's no time to lose, no time to lose. Never know now, just don't never know, no. Well it's been heaven, but even the rainbows will end. Now my sails are fillin' and the wind is willin'. And I'm as good as gone again. I'm still walkin', so I'm sure that I can dance. Just a Saint of Circumstance, just a tiger in a trance. And the rain fallin' down, well, you never know, just don't know. Listen, sure don't know what I going for, but I'm gonna go for it for sure... "Some folks trust to reason others trust to might, I don't trust to nothin', but I know it comes out right." | ||||
and i am apologizing now for the spelling errors, its 34 am and im drunk, so no time for spell check! Gotcha, SLASH i'll mmmm momo all i want! and you cant stop me! | posted on 12-11-2001 @ 10:14 PM | | |||
| O&A Board Regular Registered: Oct. 00 | Joan Osborne She down on the corner, just a little crime. When I make my money, got to get my dime. She down with her baby, wind is full of trash. She bold as a streetlight, dark and sweet as hash. Way down in the hollow, leavin' so soon. Oh, St. Teresa, higher than the moon. Reach down for the sweet stuff, way she looks at me. I know any man sees you like I see. Follow down the side street, move in single file. She said, "That's where I'll hold you, sleepin' like a child." Way down in the hollow, leavin' so soon. Oh, St. Teresa, higher than the moon. Just what I been needin', feel it rise in me. She said, "Every stone a story, like a rosary." Corner St. Teresa, just a little crime. When I make my money, got to get my dime. Way down in the hollow, leavin' so soon. Oh, St. Teresa, higher than the moon. You crawled up in the sky. You crawled up in the clouds. Is there something you forgot to tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me? Show me, my Teresa, feel it rise in me. Every stone a story, like a rosary.  for a grrl in need of a tourniquet But can you save me Come on and save me If you could save me From the ranks of the freaks who suspect they could never love anyone... | ||||
| Oyster | posted on 12-14-2001 @ 12:22 AM | | |||
| Psychopath Registered: Jul. 00 | Frank Black and the Catholics - Dog In The Sand - 2001 ST FRANCIS DAM DISASTER There was a well known water master man he was the king he could do anything the St. Francis dam disaster man thought she was all right until around midnight because that water seeks her own she had a desire to flow she was looking for somewhere to go she was a slave to the great metropolis she was feeling choked she pushed the wall 'till it broke when they heard the great apocalypse at power house number two well, there was nothing they could do because that water seeks her own five and one half hours she would flow she had fifty-three miles to go a cascade down the Santa Clara way near sixty feet high now she's a mile wide it was clear she was going far away and whole towns were, too a few got lucky in Piru because that water seeks her own but four more hours she would flow she had twenty-nine miles mores to go she carried in her every kind of thing house, tree, telegraph pole some say a thousand souls at three am she gave Santa Paula a ring she was still twenty-five feet high under a peaceful sky because that water seeks her own but two more hours she would flow she had nineteen miles more to go it was a real bad night in little Saticoy El Rio then Montalvo how many no one really knows Ventura Beach was very scary, boy humanity a pile she went her final mile because that water seeks her own into the sea the water flowed and now for forever she would go Thomas  | ||||
| danked Dankarella! | posted on 12-14-2001 @ 12:31 AM | | |||
| O&A Board Regular Registered: Aug. 00 | Saint of Circumstance!? that's the first "saint" Dead song you thought of? Saint Stephen with a rose, in and out of the garden he goes, Country garden in the wind and the rain, Wherever he goes the people all complain. Stephen prospered in his time, well he may and he may decline. Did it matter, does it now? Stephen would answer if he only knew how. Wishing well with a golden bell, bucket hanging clear to hell, Hell halfway twixt now and then, Stephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again. Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing "What for?" across the morning sky. Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer, darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye. Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow, What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned. Several seasons with their treasons, Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own. Did he doubt or did he try? Answers aplenty in the bye and bye, Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills, One man gathers what another man spills. Saint Stephen will remain, all he's lost he shall regain, Seashore washed by the suds and foam, Been here so long, he's got to calling it home. Fortune comes a crawlin', calliope woman, spinnin' that curious sense of your own. Can you answer? Yes I can. But what would be the answer to the answer man?  | ||||
| itsamiata | posted on 12-14-2001 @ 2:33 AM | | |||
| Psychopath Registered: Jan. 01 | Saints and Sailors by Dashboard Confessional This is where I say I've had enough and no one should ever feel the way that I feel now. A walking open wound, a trophy display of bruises and I don't believe that I'm getting any better. Waiting here with hopes the phone will ring and I'm thinking awful things and I'm pretty sure that few would notice. And this apartment is starving for an argument. Anything at all to break the silence. Wandering the house like I've never wanted out and this is about as social as I get now. And I'm throwing away the letters that I am writing you 'cause they would never do, I would never do. So don't be a liar, don't say that "everything's working" when everything's broken. And you smile like a saint but you curse like a sailor and your eyes say the joke's on me. | ||||
| mckinks | posted on 12-14-2001 @ 8:33 AM | | |||
| Psychopath Registered: Jan. 01 | quote: Actually it just happened to be playin' when I posted. "Some folks trust to reason others trust to might, I don't trust to nothin', but I know it comes out right." | ||||
Displaying 1-8 of 8 messages in this thread. |