That’s an opinion…not a very good one (imo)…but it’s your and I’m happy for you to have it.
I invite you to go onto one (or more) of the various Blitz Album Survey threads to enlighten us with your choices…all are welcome…the more, the merrier
I can’t stand up and l can’t sit down,
cos a great big problem stopped me in my tracks,
I can’t relax cos l haven’t done a thing,
And l can’t do a thing, cos l can’t relax.
3/ What we have here, is failure to communicate.
Some men you just can’t reach.
So you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it…well he gets it.
I don’t like it any more than you men.
2/ I never counted on this
Guess that’s the way that it goes yeah
You used to be someone I knew
Somebody I could understand but
1/ I can’t seem to face up to the facts
I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax
I can’t sleep cause my bed’s on fire
Don’t touch me, I’m a real live wire
Kinks
I met her in a club down in old Soho
Where you drink champagne and it tastes just like Cherry cola (C-O-L-A, cola)
She walked up to me and she asked me to dance
I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said, “Lola” (L-O-L-A, Lola)
Paul Simon
I am just a poor boy
Though my story’s seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
Queen
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landside
No escape from reality
And Elvis (just because…)
Well, it’s one for the money
Two for the show
Three to get ready
Now go, cat, go
Way-ay-ay-ay
(A-way-a-way-a-w ang-dang-dang-dang)
I met her at the Sailor’s Arms a bar down by the docks
Full of prostitutes and deviants and fellas wearing frocks
Went there to drown my sorrows, my misery and pain
With fourteen multicoloured pills and a pint of heavy ale (Heavy ale)
3-2-1 votes until midnight AEST tonight, still no-one has suggested:
Son, I’m 30
I only went with your mother cos she’s dirty
They seek him here
They seek him there
His clothes are loud
But never swear
Watching the people get lairy It’s not very pretty I tell thee
Walking through town is quite scary It’s not very sensible either
A friend of a friend he got beaten He looked the wrong way at a policeman
Would never have happened to Smeaton An Old Leodensian
Been crucified by all the scribes
You can’t see our backs for all the knives
The critics have done all they could
Fair enough, we’re just no good
Speaking of which, @mrjez… have they fixed that horrendous clipping at the end of the first verse of this song (where the vocals distort just before the drums come in) on the Hot Dogma vinyl re-issue?
I always thought it might have been deliberately done. Seems like a thing TISM would do…