Heartland

canon docre wrote:still big in the collector business, Johnny?

Only souls.

But hey! I'm a salesman, so souls sell for a pretty penny as well.

God knows I've sold mine enough.

Johnny Rev 7.0 wrote:

canon docre wrote:still big in the collector business, Johnny?

Only souls.

But hey! I'm a salesman, so souls sell for a pretty penny as well.

God knows I've sold mine enough.

have you become a proper German already? I detect some of this heavily laden doomed melancholy we are so famous for in our literature.

I'm outta here

canon docre wrote:I detect some of this heavily laden doomed melancholy we are so famous for in our literature.

Nope. You haven't PMed me recently.

But before anyone shouts "get a room you two!", we're back on topic ...

Unrequited Love.

GGFH - Chainsaw

Cannibal Corpse (thanks for reminding me Blasty!) - "Addicted To Vaginal Skin"

OK people let's just stand back a minute, relax.
Everything is becoming a little tense a bit fraught , a bit ..well just a little bit Ultimate Force.

Let's reflect on the heart of music , the message , lets close the thread with some sense of our place in the cosmos.
Like Leon let's think only of the good things , tell me about the good things

Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's
The little old bird woman comes
In her own special way to the people she call,
"Come, buy my bags full of crumbs
Come feed the little birds,
Show them you care
And you'll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry
Their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
Feed the birds," that's what she cries
While overhead, her birds fill the skies

All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares
Although you can't see it,
You know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

undertow wrote: ...with some sense of our place in the cosmos.

Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour,
That's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power.
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call the 'Milky Way'.
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side.
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick,
But out by us, it's just three thousand light years wide.
We're thirty thousand light years from galactic central point.
We go 'round every two hundred million years,
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth.

undertow wrote:
Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's
The little old bird woman comes
In her own special way to the people she call,
"Come, buy my bags full of crumbs
Come feed the little birds,
Show them you care
And you'll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry
Their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
Feed the birds," that's what she cries
While overhead, her birds fill the skies

All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares
Although you can't see it,
You know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Wow a song about Claire.

canon docre wrote:

undertow wrote:
Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's
The little old bird woman comes
In her own special way to the people she call,
"Come, buy my bags full of crumbs
Come feed the little birds,
Show them you care
And you'll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry
Their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
Feed the birds," that's what she cries
While overhead, her birds fill the skies

All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares
Although you can't see it,
You know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Though her words are simple and few
Listen, listen, she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Wow a song about Claire.

DAMMIT Jess you got in before me!

"Hammer Smashed Face" anyone?

One amongst many from the OTHER greatest lyricist in recent memory:

If our words were once sweethearts, now they're ugly, violent thugs. How did our language come to this? We speak in grunts and sighs and shrugs, and we never used to let just one spare moment go to waste but now you're hardly ever here, and when you are, you're bored and chaste. So when did you decide that I was vile, I've tried and tried to talk but talking's never been your style. You said we can still be friends but we both know that we won't. And your mates all laugh and smile as if they know something I don't. And every night a taxi softly sneaks you up our street. You used to say you'd broke your phone, now you don't care if you're discreet. So why won't you just tell me who was there? There's a buzz about you now, there's something funny in the air. If there's no hope for us then there's no hope for anyone, what chance can they have if even you and me can't have fun? Was it so long ago our friends said we were disgraceful? But how could they ever know that we could be so unfaithful? You weren't wearing much of note; just hold-ups and your long grey coat. The three-bar fire lit up our skin, we whispered 'cause your Mum was in and when we went to use the phone and noticed that we weren't alone, we shrugged and let the pervert see how he could only hope to be. But that was in the haze of new romance, when we floated hand in hand right through its vague, deceitful trance. if there's no hope for us then there's no hope for anyone... That's me, then, I'm all packed, you know I need some time to think. You just keep what you might need. I think we both might need a drink. And all the secrets that I keep, you know I keep because I care, but now there's no hope left for us so, darling, let's just leave it there.

Arab Strap - (If there's) No Hope For Us

Ye need to hear that in the original Fa'kirk monotone whilst reading an Irvine Welsh book for it tae really work.