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Post by Deleted on May 2, 2014 16:14:59 GMT
I love 'Hot Mango Flush. I think it's a great song. And the separate coda is good, too...what's it called? Mango Surprise ? A nightmare to read this from you. Tell me this isn't true. Wake Up! Wake up! Play A Small Cigar & any Mango and I'm looking at my Pink Floyd collection, maybe I'll be driven to join a Beatles' forum. Lunchtime here! crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from bottles half empty.
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Post by steelmonkey on May 2, 2014 16:23:54 GMT
Small Cigar is pretty awful.
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Post by Deleted on May 2, 2014 16:32:17 GMT
Small Cigar is pretty awful. Flush being the operative word. Explains the truth of the (crap) tunes mentioned. Well grab the old bog-handle, hold your breath and light a candle.
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Post by Equus on May 2, 2014 17:19:23 GMT
Well, well... Sir TooTull, and Sir Steel... I would like to point out that... A small cigar can change the world... (Ups!) I know, I've done it frequently at parties... Where I've won all the guests' attention... (Oh, yes!! And halleluja!!) With my generosity and suave gentlemanly bearing... A little flat tin case is all you need... (...Sardines??) Breast-pocket conversation opener... (...blah blah blah...) And one of those ciggie lighters that look rather good... (A torch??) You can throw away when empty... (...But not in the streats!!..) Must be declared a great success... (...Well,well...) My small cigars all vanish within minutes... (...It's a kind of magic!!)
That's right! A small cigar can change the world... (...Ups again!!)
Well...okay then... here it is, you talked me into it...
A small Cigar:
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Post by Deleted on May 2, 2014 18:06:50 GMT
So much better:>)
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Post by Equus on May 3, 2014 17:34:41 GMT
Maybe we should have a Thread with Tull/Ian Anderson songs that we absolutely hate... I'm sure that it would bring on many interesting discussions... and now I know that somebody (...we know who you are, Mr. steel... ) actually likes Hot Mango Flush... The next song is a song that I love... Salamander:
Salamander, born in the sun-kissed flame Who was it lit your candle? Branded you with your name I see you walking by my window in your Kensington haze Salamander burn, Salamander burn Salamander burn for me and I'll burn for you
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Post by steelmonkey on May 3, 2014 17:54:24 GMT
Bad idea....confessing hated songs, invariably someone's all time favorite brings discord and unhappiness to our happy family. Of course, no pity for anyone who likes: 'Flying Colours', 'Far Alaska', 'Solstice Bells', ' Twitch in Slime', '4 Wheel Drive', 'I'm Your Gun', 'Overhang','Something's on the Move', 'This is Not Love' or 'Wounded, Old and Treacherous'.
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Post by steelmonkey on May 3, 2014 17:56:18 GMT
There, I did it, pissed EVERYONE off....I'm sorry...work is stressful, my daughter won't lift her head from her iphone to talk to me anymore and my girlfriend tells me she has 'the flu'*
* no time for me today.
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Post by Equus on May 3, 2014 17:56:55 GMT
Bad idea....confessing hated songs, invariably someone's all time favorite brings discord and unhappiness to our happy family. Of course, no pity for anyone who likes: 'Flying Colours', 'Far Alaska', 'Solstice Bells', ' Twitch in Slime', '4 Wheel Drive', 'I'm Your Gun', 'Overhang','Something's on the Move', 'This is Not Love' or 'Wounded, Old and Treacherous'. Great songs! All of them!
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Post by futureshock on May 3, 2014 18:13:21 GMT
Bad idea....confessing hated songs, invariably someone's all time favorite brings discord and unhappiness to our happy family. Of course, no pity for anyone who likes: 'Flying Colours', 'Far Alaska', 'Solstice Bells', ' Twitch in Slime', '4 Wheel Drive', 'I'm Your Gun', 'Overhang','Something's on the Move', 'This is Not Love' or 'Wounded, Old and Treacherous'. I don't know, there are sometimes songs that just grate you so bad they seem like a sneeker full of thumbtacks caked in the entrails of ebola-infected scorpions. Some of those songs listed I like, but have to agree that "4 Wheel Drive", "I'm your gun" and "Wounded..." belong in some other band's "Hardly Best Of" suitcase. I have this theory, which is the second theory that I have, which is to say, "some songs are only notions and raw material for creativity and should not be considered completed songs at all, sort of a brontosaurus blueprint for what may eventually evolve into a ripe rip-roaring song that takes off like an osprey to a holiday beach in Tahiti." Such songs should not be released to the public.
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2014 19:07:31 GMT
Bad idea....confessing hated songs, invariably someone's all time favorite brings discord and unhappiness to our happy family. Of course, no pity for anyone who likes: 'Flying Colours', 'Far Alaska', 'Solstice Bells', ' Twitch in Slime', '4 Wheel Drive', 'I'm Your Gun', 'Overhang','Something's on the Move', 'This is Not Love' or 'Wounded, Old and Treacherous'. You're still killing me. Hurting me... I hate only three tunes as mentioned before - two Mangos & one Small Cigar. Stop the hurting... 'Flying Colours', 'Solstice Bells', ' Twitch in Slime' haha, 'I'm Your Gun', 'Overhang' 'Something's on the Move', - Favourites of mine.
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Post by Equus on May 3, 2014 20:04:53 GMT
There, I did it, pissed EVERYONE off....I'm sorry...work is stressful, my daughter won't lift her head from her iphone to talk to me anymore and my girlfriend tells me she has 'the flu'* * no time for me today. Okay... Doesn't sound like a good day... but here is something for you. Sit down, relax, and make yourself combatable... and sing these holy words while listening to this video: Om Mani Padme Hum... a great way to relax...
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Post by Equus on May 3, 2014 20:23:40 GMT
Star Trek...
Orion:
Orion, won't you give me your star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on my hill and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Orion, light your lights, come guard the open spaces From the black horizon to the pillow where I lie Your faithful dog shines brighter than its Lord and master Your jeweled sword twinkles as the world rolls by
So come up singing above the cloudy cover Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep I know you're watching as the old gent by the station Scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
Orion, won't you give me your star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on my hill and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street Their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat
Orion, won't you make me a star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on your love and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus stops After sad parties no one to take them home To greasy bed sitters and make a late night play For lost virginity a thousand miles away
Orion, won't you make me a star sign Orion, get up on the sky-line I'm high on your love and I feel fine Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Love is sky-line, Orion
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Post by Equus on May 4, 2014 7:27:53 GMT
This song is from the Broadsword album... Well, originally it wasn't, but later, much later, it was listed as one of the bonus tracks... The CD gave us more room for all those songs that really should have been dumped in the waste basket... or what? In my opinion, in this case, the answer is no!! This is a wonderful song, and my god what a surprise when these bonus tracks were made available... This is of course only my opinion... Here is one of them... Overhang! This is the only version... So, I guess it's just, take it or leave it... Is there anybody out there who will make a better video to this magnificent song?? Overhang:Good morning, gentlemen Why the uneasy frowns? Too much everything And I can't recall, did I let you down? Nobody will answer me Makes me feel that I want to die And my mind is inclined to lie Oh no, think I did it last night again Oh no, been out on the overhang again My hotel room was a battleground How did I find my way? My wallets gone and my jackets torn My memory's a hazy gray Do I seem to remember now Two creatures about eight feet tall? No safety net to break my fall Oh no, must have done it last night again Oh no, crawled out on the overhang again Been out on the overhang Out on the overhang Watching demons and spirits glide Heading out to the nearest star Better lead me back to the bar Oh no, might do it tonight again Oh no, crawled out on the overhang again Been out on the overhang Crawling out on the overhang Been out on the overhang Out of the overhang Out of the overhang Out of the overhang Out of the overhang
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Post by Equus on May 4, 2014 14:21:22 GMT
I absolutely love this tune! Inside:All the places I've been make it hard to begin to enjoy life again on the inside, but I mean to. Take a walk around the block and be glad that I've got me some time to be in from the outside, and inside with you. I'm sitting on the corner feeling glad. Got no money coming in but I can't be sad. That was the best cup of coffee I ever had. And I won't worry about a thing because we've got it made, here on the inside, outside so far away. And we'll laugh and we'll sing get someone to bring our friends here for tea in the evening -- Old Jeffrey makes three. Take a walk in the park, does the wind in the dark sound like music to you? Well I'm thinking it does to me. Can you cook, can you sew -- well, I don't want to know. That is not what you need on the inside, to make the time go. Counting lambs, counting sheep we will fall into sleep and we awake to a new day of living and loving you so.
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Post by Equus on May 4, 2014 14:26:11 GMT
I love this too...
With You There To Help Me:
In days of peace -- sweet smelling summer nights of wine and song; dusty pavements burning feet. Why am I crying, I want to know. How can I smile and make it right? For sixty days and eighty nights and not give in and lose the fight.
I'm going back to the ones that I know, with whom I can be what I want to be. Just one week for the feeling to go -- and with you there to help me then it probably will.
I won't go down acting the same old play. Give sixty days for just one night. Don't think I'd make it: but then I might.
I'm going back to the ones that I know, with whom I can be what I want to be. Just one week for the feeling to go -- and with you there to help me then it probably will.
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Post by Equus on May 5, 2014 5:15:45 GMT
My God:
People - what have you done Locked Him in His golden cage. Made Him bend to your religion Him resurrected from the grave.
He is the god of nothing If that's all that you can see. You are the god of everything He's inside you and me.
So lean upon Him gently And don't call on Him to save you From your social graces And the sins you used waive.
The bloody Church of England In chains of history Requests your earthly presence at The vicarage for tea.
And the graven image you-know-who With His plastic crucifix He's got him fixed Confuses me as to who and where and why
As to how he gets his kicks. Confessing to the endless sin The endless whining sounds. You'll be praying till next Thursday to
All the gods that you can count.
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Post by Equus on May 5, 2014 16:35:23 GMT
Back Door Angels:
In and out of the front door, ran twelve back-door angels. Their hair was a golden-brown They didn't see me wink my eye.
`tis said they put we men to sleep with just a whisper... And touch the heads of dying dogs and make them linger... They carry their candles high and they light the dark hours. And sweep all the country clean with pressed and scented wild-flowers.
They grow all their roses red, and paint our skies blue... Drop one penny in every second bowl Make half the beggars lose...
Why do the faithful have such a will to believe in something? And call it the name they choose, Having chosen nothing...
Think I'll sit down and invent some fool --- Some grand court jester... And next time the die is cast, he'll throw a six or two...
In and out of the back-door, ran one front-door angel, Her hair was a golden-brown... She smiled and I think, she, winked, her, eye...
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Post by Equus on May 5, 2014 19:54:59 GMT
Panama freighter:
Night close in on a shanty town. Panama freighter wearing rusty brown. She sails tomorrow and she's homeward bound. Head up on a lumpy sea.
I'm not the only lonely planet rider in this one horse town, I'm thinking. And I won't over-rate or patronize you.
I know we're as different as chalk and cheese; as black hole winters and salad days and I wouldn't like your mother much anyway. But it's not her I'm taking home with me.
Don't intend to dress you in silver threads like some trophy in sublime seclusion. Won't try to educate or civilize you.
Night close in on a shanty town. Panama freighter wearing rusty brown. She sails tomorrow and she's homeward bound and you're bound to come home with me. On the Panama freighter with me
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Post by Equus on May 6, 2014 5:45:55 GMT
Teacher:
Well, the dawn was coming Heard him ringing on my bell He said, "My name's the teacher That is what I call myself"
"And I have a lesson That I must impart to you It's an old expression But I must insist it's true"
Jump up, look around, find yourself some fun No sense in sitting there, hating everyone No man's an island and his castle isn't home The nest is for nothing when the bird has flown
So I took a journey Threw my world into the sea With me went the teacher Who found fun instead of me
Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said? Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed I try to socialize but I can't seem to find What I was looking for, got something on my mind
Then the teacher told me It had been a lot of fun Thanked me for his ticket And all that I had done
Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said? Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed I try to socialize but I can't seem to find What I was looking for, got something on my mind
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Post by Equus on May 6, 2014 14:50:44 GMT
We used to know:
Whenever I get to feel this way, Try to find new words to say, I think about the bad old days We used to know.
Nights of winter turn me cold Fears of dying, getting old. We ran the race and the race was won By running slowly.
Could be soon we'll cease to sound, Slowly upstairs, faster down. Then to revisit stony grounds, We used to know.
Remembering mornings, shillings spent, Made no sense to leave the bed. The bad old days they came and went Giving way to fruitful years.
Saving up the birds in hand While in the bush the others land. Take what we can before the man Says it's time to go.
Each to his own way I'll go mine. Best of luck in what you find. But for your own sake remember times We used to know.
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Post by steelmonkey on May 6, 2014 15:25:51 GMT
If you can't get enough of 'Back Door Angels' be advised there is a porn movie series of the same name.
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Post by Equus on May 6, 2014 16:15:10 GMT
This song is from the 1969 Mick Abrahams album, or should I just call it Blodwyn Pig? Anyway... the album is recorded after he was kicked out of Jethro Tull, and Mick formed his own band... So this is Blodwyn Pig, from the album, Ahead rings out... and... don't Bogart that joint my friend ... Dear Jill...
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Post by Equus on May 6, 2014 20:04:57 GMT
Doggerland:Our footsteps o'er the Doggerland, chased retreating ice and snow, left us breathing high and dry, Land's End to Scapa Flow. The seeds of Albion, wind-blown free, scattered to the moors, dormant beneath the the soggy heath where stouter oaks will grow. All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with boar and elk and wolves Take the high lands near and wide Strike with rock and flint and bone, follow trail and hoof. Onwards to another place, a place to raise a roof. And these four walls to shelter us upon this blessed plot: This earth, this realm, this England - island, alone, aloof. All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with boar and elk and wolves Take the high lands near and wide Back across the Doggerland, Costa villa overkill. Warm farmhouses in Tuscany challenge Winter's will. We pensionable, geriatric, sun-creased wrinklies long for this earth, this realm, this England, a burial ground to fill. All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with luggage, kids and sunscreen Melted mortgage, dreams that died All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with boar and elk and wolves Take the high lands near and wide
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Post by Equus on May 6, 2014 20:15:37 GMT
The Browning of the Green:
Exponential family planning: let me play the numbers game, sign up for some benefits, get my dues and stake a claim. Spill out to suburbia then spread onwards to the country wide and when the last plot's taken, I'll spill out on to the other side.
It's the browning of the green: we'll be tight as canned sardine. Lemmings to the right and the left of us and all points in between... It's the browning of the green.
Be fruitful: nothing to it. Fill the earth, subdue it, multiply. It's written in that Goodly Book. So, it's really best that I comply. Another baby-booming bloomer? Imbecile fecundity? Another mouth, but what the Hell? Child benefits, they come for free.
It's the browning of the green: we'll be tight as canned sardine. Lemmings to the right and the left of us and all points in between... It's the browning of the green.
A little boy, a little girl: quite perfect but it won't suffice. Bouncing bairns upon my knee; six or seven might be nice. Come, time to go with Daddy, find ourselves some open playground space on these concrete fields of England, this blessed realm, this blessed place.
It's the browning of the green: we'll be tight as canned sardine. Lemmings to the right and the left of us and all points in between... It's the browning of the green.
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Post by Equus on May 7, 2014 14:40:17 GMT
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Post by Equus on May 7, 2014 14:46:59 GMT
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Post by Equus on May 7, 2014 19:38:33 GMT
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Post by Equus on May 8, 2014 11:12:03 GMT
Take it away Mick...
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Post by Equus on May 8, 2014 15:35:19 GMT
Up The Pool:
I'm going up the 'pool from down the smoke below To taste my mum's jam sarnies and see our aunty Flo The candy floss salesman watches ladies in the sand Down for a freaky weekend in the hope that they'll be meeting Mister Universe
The iron tower smiles down upon the silver sea And along the golden mile they'll be swigging mugs of tea The politicians there who've come to take the air While posing for the daily press, will look around And blame the mess on Edward Bear
There'll be bucket, spades and bingo, cockles, mussels Rainy days, seaweed and sand castles, icy waves Deck chairs, rubber dinghies, old vests, braces dangling down Sun tanned stranded starfish in a daze
We're going up the 'pool from down the smoke below To taste my mum's jam sarnies and see our aunty Flo The candy floss salesman watches ladies in the sand Down for a freaky weekend in the hope that they'll be meeting Mister Universe
There'll be buckets, spades and bingo, cockles, mussels Rainy days, seaweed and sand castles, icy waves Deck chairs, rubber dinghies, old vests, braces dangling down Sun tanned stranded starfish in a daze
Oh, Blackpool Oh, Blackpool
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