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Joined: Thu December 13, 2012 6:31 pm Posts: 39914
I was listening to Tom Waits' A Sweet Little Bullet From a Pretty Blue Gun on the way to work this morning, and it's got such a fantastic opening lyric (it's a smarmy song about an innocent country girl stranded in LA being forced to become a whore to survive)
It's raining It's pouring You didn't bring a sweater Nebraska will never let you come back home
That last line says so much about regret, recrimination, judgement, and is juxtaposed so brilliantly with the nursery rhyme beginning.
Joined: Thu January 24, 2013 9:20 am Posts: 2687 Location: Great southern land.
Yeah, that's a great little verse, and does say so much in just a few words.
Carrying on from my vote in the 70's Tourney, I've always loved the impact of these lines from Brucie's 'Lost in the Flood':
And some kid comes blastin' 'round the corner, but a cop puts him right away He lays on the street holding his leg, screaming something in Spanish, still breathing when I walked away. And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud".
It's not compact nor particularly clever, but it does convey the apathy towards and acceptance of violence and the 'keep to yourself' mentality of society very well.
Wolves by the road And a bike wheel spinning on a pawn shop wall She'll wring out her colored hair Like a butterfly beaten in the summer rainfall And then roll on the kitchen floor With some fucker with a pocket full of foreign change Song of the shepherd's dog A ditch in the dark in the year of the lamb Who's gonna try to run away? Whoever got that brave?
A boy with a coin he found in the leaves With bullets and pages of trade magazines Close to a car that flipped on the turn When God left the ground to circle the world
A girl with a bird she found in the snow That flew up her gown and that's how she knows That God made her eyes for crying at birth Then left the ground to circle the earth
I guess you can call me a family man Cause I care for bitches' babies every chance that I can I don't give 'em clothes, or diapers and shit But I like to feed they babies with my big black dick Cause I'ma tell you if you didn't know You ain't did shit 'til you fucked a pregnant ho The pussy is hotter, it's got a extra kick It feel like hot potato pie around your dick Sometimes I swing high, sometimes I swing low Sometimes I like to fuck a pregnant bitch on my floor Hit it kinda hard, and speed it up fast Fuck her 'til she get the cherry blisters on her ass Cause if she expecting, I can satisfy And at the same time, give her kid a pacifier And I love it when I bust that old nut Cause I know that her baby's just gon' lick it all up
And your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking And dad would dream of all the different ways to die Each one a little more than he could dare to try
Joined: Mon February 18, 2013 4:40 pm Posts: 1721 Location: Cracktown, Great White North
Varis wrote:
Yeah, that's a great little verse, and does say so much in just a few words.
Carrying on from my vote in the 70's Tourney, I've always loved the impact of these lines from Brucie's 'Lost in the Flood':
And some kid comes blastin' 'round the corner, but a cop puts him right away He lays on the street holding his leg, screaming something in Spanish, still breathing when I walked away. And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud".
It's not compact nor particularly clever, but it does convey the apathy towards and acceptance of violence and the 'keep to yourself' mentality of society very well.
Joined: Sat January 05, 2013 7:30 am Posts: 8213 Location: nothing
Then she opened up a book of poems And handed it to me Written by an Italian poet From the fifteenth century And every one of them words rang true And glowed like burning coal Pouring off of every page Like it was written in my soul from me to you Tangled up in blue
_________________ crazy strong wind on the ride back had to mega pump the quads
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