damaged people dot com

I wish that I could fly
Into the sky
So very high
Just like a dragonfly

I'd fly above the trees
Over the seas in all degrees
To anywhere I please

Oh I want to get away
I want to fly away
Yeah yeah yeah

I love standing by the water and just knowing what it's for
It’s all right to swim and sip it- let me have a little more
Like my woman like my shower- get them hot until their steaming
Love to find a little spot- nice and shady that''s for dreamin’ of the riches

Oh, tell me where are you hidden?
Ready or not man, I’m come’n in
Into the life
Into the life
Into to the life of riches!

Stretching out in the sun- like a cat in the window
Hillside changing color- as I’m watching shadows throw
I’m laughing that is rich- it puts my stomach in a stitches
Early birdie from a perch- looking down can see all the worlds’ riches

Oh, tell me where are you hidden?
Ready or not man, I’m come’n in
Into the life
Into the life
Into to the life of riches!

I’m never lookin’ over my shoulder again
Want to buy my time and finally own my fate
If you tell me no then I really must insist
And when the hunt is over kiss me on my lips
Kisses!

So let’s talk ‘bout our plan- you can count is gonna work
Carry on feel immortal- at the risk of getting hurt
I''m praying that it rains- so some day we'll be sowin'
Living through a little pain- no complainin' as were trainin' for the riches

Oh, tell me where are you hidden?
Oh, all of a sudden
There you are

rather than google it, I'll ask...

Is that mrmoth?

Eh, my favourite song right now. By "The Riches" by Jane's Addiction.

But thanks for the compliment!

In a college town, with olive green all around, professors and skate punks rock SG Paul's wall of sound. There's an anarchist bookstore that has more than you'd look for.

A core of local folks wait for a late lift. There's often a great drift to the shop for the Wednesday night five-to-eight shift. The clerk at work is the prettiest gal in town. She cries during the video for "Allentown." She's a precocious socialist and willing to pal around. She's twice as cool as the kids at her high school. Every Wednesday after French Club she rides to work with a stuffed mastodon in the basket on her bicycle.

Voice Talent, a rapper, said, "If Noam Chomsky was from the Bronx he'd have been assassinated promptly."
The clerk said, "He was from the Bronx"
He said, "You know what I mean... ignoramuses"

"Oh boyee, what a pain this is," said the only paid employee, the manager. "I came for culture not accounting," and a girl put a flyer up above the water fountain. She carried clandestine two dollar mescaline in her blue collar mess tin plastered with stickers that said, "Food Not Bombs," "Sex Not Proms," and "Critical Mass."

That bastard, Voice Talent, snickered. He thought, "Nice graphics but that's just half-assed agitprop to piss off a traffic cop. Aww shucks. Can it be I'm too lazy for potlucks? If not my friends who am I willing to cook for," and they're chilling at the Anarchist Bookstore. Will Barnes and Noble harm the global?

Voice Talent, the rapper, had a rapport with a stripper whore who he'd vote for long before he'd vote for Tipper Gore. He equipped the store with a credit card machine and put zines in their places. He said, "Take Back the Streets is more like Take Back Four Parking Spaces at the most," and left to host the Sunday Showcases. He was all dressed in tinsel, yo, but he couldn't convince his friends to go. They were like, "Voice Talent, you put on a minstrel show." He said, "Someone's psychotic. Someone took too much semiotics." "Furthermore," he thought, "Someone can tzuck my Tzadik," but VT was the opposite of TV. He'd never accuse someone of being PC because it's so frigging dumb to say. The term arose on the Columbus Day Quincentennary when the republic was honest about the conquest and wouldn't party as previously promised. If someone uses a nonoffensive vocabulary that person is considerate, not PC. If someone has a heavy-handed agenda that person is narrow-minded, not PC. Unless you mean Providence College, PC is as meaningless as the president's apology for slavery. Maybe PE should be on the radio, not just in the African-American Norton Anthology.

Will Amazon.com be around when gramma's gone, mom?

who is that Nick?

MC Paul Barman, song is Anarchist Bookstore Pt. 1.
-Nick P.

If you want a lover
I'll do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
I'll wear a mask for you
If you want a partner
Take my hand
Or if you want to strike me down in anger
Here I stand
I'm your man

If you want a boxer
I will step into the ring for you
And if you want a doctor
I'll examine every inch of you
If you want a driver
Climb inside
Or if you want to take me for a ride
You know you can
I'm your man

Ah, the moon's too bright
The chain's too tight
The beast won't go to sleep
I've been running through these promises to you
That I made and I could not keep
Ah but a man never got a woman back
Not by begging on his knees
Or I'd crawl to you baby
And I'd fall at your feet
And I'd howl at your beauty
Like a dog in heat
And I'd claw at your heart
And I'd tear at your sheet
I'd say please, please
I'm your man

And if you've got to sleep
A moment on the road
I will steer for you
And if you want to work the street alone
I'll disappear for you
If you want a father for your child
Or only want to walk with me a while
Across the sand
I'm your man

I just rapped that. I guess it's not a rap song.
-Nick P.

Nickp wrote:I just rapped that. I guess it's not a rap song.
-Nick P.

Hehe... It's Leonard Cohen