Thursday, August 09, 2007

Right Said The Joker

I'm a chaser, a snatcher, a grade A bomb so nuclear,
I drink at every bar; I sell my disease to every patient.
I'm a screamer, I'm a geezer, I'm a twenty thousand watt amplifier,
everything feels like my playground now.

I'm a transformer,an impostor, my own bomb dismantler,
I am a virus in disguise, with only my eyes to hide.
i am a penetrator, a sinner, a bone chilling comforter,
My mirth begins when you are in deep sleep.

I'm a liar , a craver, a carbon monoxide infiltrator,
Wherever i go, trouble follows.
I'm a striker, a biter, a Vampire Motorcycle Rider,
Hey, but let me tell you about my Alter Ego.

I'm a cracker, a toker, I'm the funniest story teller,
I make believe the skies are under my feet.
I'm a snoozer, I'm a "Kramer", I talk faster than Chris Tucker,
I'm right here but way out of your reach.

I'm a stalker,a watcher, I'm a "whatever i've got, a holder" ,
I am an SAP configurator and i am still unemployed.
I'm a smoker, i'll make friends even with a stammerer,
I am just a little faster than your average lawn mower.

I'm a mocker, a conner, I am a spoon fed eater,
I am shy and talkative at the same time.
I'm a pepper, i'm a sweetener,and i can even be sour,

You see, mostly i am a confuser!!

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Conspiracy Theories From The Garden Of Elves

Hey,

I know i dont have that many readers but in case someone's gonna read this post, please
listen to this song. Its a song by Pink Floyd, during the Syd Barrett years.
"Bike" from the album "Piper at the gates of dawn".
Here's the link:http://youtube.com/watch?v=AMbVtovh8sY

So i wrote a parody of this songIt goes something like this :
( I might be a little tone deaf but i think most of the beats are right )


I've got a theory
Thats kinda like a conspiracy
I only wanted inspiration
But i've smoked up all my motivation
I'd give it to you if I could
But i stole it from you

This is the kind of story that should fit in your world
I'll write anything
Everything if it has a reaction

I think that Kurt Cobain
never really killed himself
But was shot down by some drunk
On the railway track
I told this story to the journalist
But she told me i was a crack

This is the kind of story that should fit in your world
I'll write anything
Everything if it has a reaction

I know that Neil Armstrong
never landed on the moon
it was just a mutant mouse
who bought cat like features on lease
He's getting rather huge
And he ate up all that green cheeze

This is the kind of story that should fit in your world
I'll write anything
Everything if it has a reaction

I realized that George Bush was really just an alien
With seven hands
Four pair of cockeyed retina
And peanuts the size of two brains
They are on the streets for sale
But they are way too stale

This is the kind of story that should fit in your world
I'll write anything
Everything if it has a reaction

I believe that Kung Fu
Was invented by me
I can swing, i can nunchuck
I can get off even when i am stuck
I can take over the world
But i'll rather meditate

This is the kind of story that should fit in your world
I'll write anything
Everything if it has a reaction

I know a girl who likes to hear tales
some fake
some true
but most of them are conspired
Why don't we meet up
And we'll make them real

Friday, July 06, 2007

Lebanese Get Away Car Driver

Shoot me in my eyes
and let me know what you think

I am running out of words
And patience at the same time

If you dont wanna lunch
we can go to my place and have a drink

But if you're going to lie
Then you're commiting a serious crime

Whoa ho oo oo i wanna take you out
whoa ho oo oo somewhere far away
whoa ho oo oo we'll never come back
whoa ho oo oo from a secret get away

Ey Ey you're right!!!

You dont like the way i look
But you like the way i talk

Thats fine girl! cause when we kiss
You know we always close our eyes

Behind closed doors, up against the wall
we'll throw away the key to that greasy old lock

And by that time i'll be fine
with hearing absolutely no truth but only lies

Whoa ho oo oo i wanna take you out
whoa ho oo oo somewhere far away
whoa ho oo oo we'll never come back
whoa ho oo oo from a secret get away

Ey Ey you're right!!!

Monday, June 18, 2007

Ocean Girl

Ocean Girl
Hang in there
I know you can spot the land
But you cant touch
That's why you're down
And i am leaving town
Just to meet you there
So float in there

I am coming around
In my spaceship
I know you're scared of heights
But i'll handle that
Throw you a ladder
Made of rope
Fly you to my galaxy
Where we can be among stars

Scars, will all fade away
Like all the needles in the hay
Golden like your hair spray
Ocean Girl, wont you stay?

In a spiral escalator
Down the Black Hole
I know we'll get lost
But you know thats my point
Dodge the asteroids
Before we descend
In a Soar In Theatre
Watch the trilogy of "The Supernova"

Rising back
All the way to moon
I know its a bumpy ride
But i'll bolt the seat belts on
Start a business
Selling Stars'n'Cream
Build a house
All made up of green cheese

Breeze, will be blowing in
Like the scent of tonic water and gin
Silver like an electric lightnin'
Ocean Girl, this will be our sin

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Shades Of Dust

I got lost in your dream
Moving slow and breathing free
A cleaner love with a dirty feel
Like a moon thats nailed to a tree

And then i forgot
Most of what was Everything
And then i realized
That all of that was nothing

Wear this mask of misery
My face has split into three
My soul is advertised for a lease
You wont like what you will see

And then i forgot
Most of what was Everything
And then i realized
That all of that was nothing

Oh , in this feeling of you
Shades of dust and sun
Go round
Oh, i've tried to blend in
But i could not put my feet
In your shoes

I wonder whats your point of view
I am still stuck on you like cheap glue
I hate myself because these feelings are true
You are glad that we finally are through

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

A parody of Annie's Song byJohn Denver

You threw up on my carpet,
Just like eating a raw goat,
Like having eight hundred degrees of fever,
Like having a shower in a sewer,
Like walking for hours in a desert,
Like taking a nap in the gutter.
You threw up on my carpet,
Oh how i wish it was yours

Come let me get you high,
Let me give my drink to you,
Let me drown you in alcohol,
let me let you pass out on this carpet,
Let me lay you down in your own bile,
Let me always do this to you.
Come let me wrap you in this carpet,
Oh how i wish it was yours

Since 1974 we've been hearing this song
Of Annie
Annie?
Who the f*** is Annie?

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Blu Ray Burning!!!

Fast and picturesque
We store digital media
To be called as BD
That sets every optical illusion in sight

We are of high density
To produce high definition
For Whoever would
Be able to pay for its right

Born to lead
This digital universe
With short wavelengths
We spit blue violet laser

Blu Ray burning!!

With three interactive profiles
And a hard coating technology
Nothing can stop us
Not even Sony

With ongoing development
We have a base in paper
We have support from Java
Not caffeine but the software

Watch out HD DVD
We are the Killer bees
We transfer the data
At high breakneck speeds

Blu ray burning!!

Blu Ray burning!!

Monday, May 21, 2007

Because Ma Girlfriend's an MBA

Well, when I was only two
My mother dropped me on my head
I may have got the flu
But my right brain turned dead

Things were going bad
And they could only get worse
But it’s all right
Yea it’s all right

Well when I was in grade six
My voice began to crack
I was listening to guitar licks
But I sounded like a yak

(Chorus)

Things were going bad
And they could only get worse
But it’s all right
Cause
Because ma girlfriend’s an MBA
Yeay
You gotta hear what I say

About the time when I was seventeen
For the first time I fell in love
I was walking towards Halloween
For indeed, my heart she had to burn

Things were going bad
And they could only get worse
But it’s all right
Yea it’s all right

Wooh! Well, when I was twenty one
I started doing things illegal
I was getting higher than the sun
My body and soul slowly turning fatal

(Chorus)

Things were going bad
And they could only get worse
But it’s all right
Cause
Because ma girlfriend’s an MBA
Yeay
You gotta hear what I say

Around seven days earlier
I was drinking at a strip club
I was chatting up this girl
She used me like her cigarette stub
I told her I was a consultant
And I got lots of them monnnayyy
She said she loved that
And told me she was an MBA

(Chorus)

Things are going great
And they are only getting better
And it’s all right
Cause
Because ma girlfriend’s an MBA
Yeay
You better hear what I say




Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Cat People

There’s a ghost in the cat in my neighbor’s house
His wife, she’s a smoothie, never fails to arouse
His noisy kid plays the piano, has a room full of toys
His wife, she’s a girl, dreams of smoking with the boys

Me, yeah I am the mouse
Every afternoon within her blouse
So when the cat is away
The mice play a sweet game called “Which corner today?”

There’s a hole in the brain in my neighbor’s head
His eyes only see what I call a tribute to an empty bed
His avocado tree grows in the lawn and is big enough
His wife, she doesn’t care, she only lures for the rough

Me yeah, I am the mouse
Helping her break her vows
So when the cat is away
The mice play a sweet game called “Which corner today?”

There’s a black in the grey in my lifeless heart
My guilt, I buy from a magazine called “This Is How You Start”
My love, I steal from those who stand in a queue
My hate, is restricted to only a few

He, yeah he’s the cat
Not for the tits, but for the tat
So when the mouse sends shivers down her spine
The cats play a dull game called “That’s your corner, this is mine!”

Friday, March 23, 2007

A song for Bob Woolmer a.k.a " The Murder Of Bob Woolmer"

Bob Woolmer went to his hotel room
Shook his hands with the hands of doom
Slow dripping panic sweat, a cold embrace
Bats hurled, ropes twirled, your non Jamaican taste

Outside the Irish won
Beer mugs were on the run
The Kiwis were setting fire
While the crescent moon lowered

Chorus:
A "large man" they say he was
"Manual strangulation" was the cause
"No signs of forced entry" they say
Don't let the killers get away
No, No
Don't let the killers get away

Bob Woolmer left the World cup in disarray
Leading the super eight forecasts to go astray
While Indian media reports arrest in a haste
a murder mystery , a gossip theory, your typical Bollywood taste

A pity no one was there
No angels soaring in the air
No more days of match fixing
But the days of throat slitting

Chorus:
A "large man" they say he was
"Manual strangulation" was the cause
"No signs of forced entry" they say
Don't let the killers get away
No, No
Don't let the killers get away