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08-24-06, 19:30
| #1705 (permalink) |
| Mycophage  Join Date: Jun 2006
Posts: 115
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Perfect Sense - Roger Waters The monkey sat on a pile of stone And he stared at the broken bone in his hand The strains of a Viennese quartet rang out across the land And the monkey looked up at the stars And thought to himself Memory is a stranger History is for fools And he cleaned his hands in a pool of holy writing Turned his back on the garden And set out for the nearest town Hold on, hold on soldier When you add it all up The tears and the marrowbone There's an ounce of gold And an ounce of pride in each ledger And the Germans killed the Jews And the Jews killed the Arabs And the Arabs killed the hostages And that is the news And is it any wonder that the monkey's confused He said Mama Mama the President's a fool Why do I have to keep reading these technical manuals And the Joint Chiefs of Staff And the brokers on Wall Street said Don't make us laugh you're a smart kid Time is linear Memory is a stranger History's for fools Man is a tool in the hands of the great God almighty And they gave him command of a nuclear submarine And sent him back in search of the Garden of Eden
__________________ It takes a sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun to put those scarlet ribbons in your hair |
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08-24-06, 19:59
| #1706 (permalink) |
| Mycophage Join Date: Jun 2006
Posts: 115
| What God Wants Part Three - Roger Waters Don't be afraid, it's only business The alien prophet sighed The vulture and the magpie Took the cash box from its hook The monkey in the corner wrote The figures in his book Crazed, the checkout lady's fingers Flash across the till The captain posts the menu for the day And in banks across the world Christian, Moslem, Hindu, Jew And people of every Race, creed, color, tint or hue Get down on their knees and pray The raccoon and the groundhog Neatly make up bags of change But the monkey in the corner Well he's slowly drifting out of range Christ, it's freezing inside The veteran cries The hyenas break cover and stream through the meadow And the fog rolls in To his bottle of gin So he picks up a stone That looks like a bone And the bullets fly And the rivers run dry And the fat girls sigh And the network anchor persons lie And the soldier's alone In the video zone But the monkey's not watching He's slipped out to the kitchen To pile the dishes And answer the phone
__________________ It takes a sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun to put those scarlet ribbons in your hair |
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