Monday, May 01, 2006

Pop lyric: If it's gotta be pop, here's my pick.
Were all alone in a villa on the rivera

Thats in france on the south side In case
u cared

Out of all yo friends I wanna be the closest

Thats why I tell u things So
ull be the mostest

When it comes 2 life, 2 be this mans wife

U got 2 be well
educated on the subject of fights

I mean prevention of

In other words - its
r.e.a.l meaning of this thing called love

Are u up on this? If so, then u can get
up off hug and a kiss

Come here baby, yeah

U sexy motherfucker


If we're allowed misanthropes, Eno's stolen a little thunder from me. At risk of being a me too-er, here's my Costello pick (at least the first one I thought of):
When Sunday morning dandruff turns out to be confetti

And the cost of living in sin would make a poor man out of Paul Getty

The girl in your dreams would have you up on an under age charge

And the man of the moment is the lifer at large


If you've got something to hide, if you've got something to sell

If you've got somebody's pride she might kiss and tell

Or wind up with a fight fan in the Hammersmith Hotel

You better speak up now if you want your piece

You better speak up now

It won't mean a thing later

Yesterday's news is
tomorrow's fish and chip paper


And Lou Reed:
And back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming

He's found a book on Magic
in a garbage can

He looks at the pictures and stares at the cracked ceiling

"At
the count of 3" he says, "I hope I can disappear"

And fly fly away, from
this dirty boulevard

I want to fly, from dirty boulevard

I want to fly, from
dirty boulevard

I want to fly, fly, fly, fly, from dirty boulevard


But this is all very cursory. If I think of anyting better I'll let you know.

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