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Post by TM on Mar 10, 2015 15:07:05 GMT -5
From Ian:
Our job is to guess those lyric changes! Any takers?
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Post by Biggles on Mar 10, 2015 20:44:23 GMT -5
From Ian:Heavy Horses, Farm On The Freeway, Songs From The Wood sit alongside Aqualung, Living In The Past, Wind-Up, A New Day Yesterday, The Witch’s Promise, Locomotive Breath and other favourites – often with slightly re-written lyrics to better tell the tale.Our job is to guess those lyric changes! Any takers? Hmmm.. this could be fun. Excuse me while I whip out my word.doc! |
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Post by Morthoron on Mar 11, 2015 22:31:57 GMT -5
O lend me your ears while this old geezer drools --
Ian Anderson singing about agronomist tools!
The invention that was Jethro Tull's sole claim to fame:
The seed drill's promise was coming,
But as an idea for opera it's really quite lame.
In Basildon, Berkshire this bastard was born
To Jethro Sr. and Dorothy in 1674.
And later developed a horse-drawn hoe,
But the seed drill's promise was coming!
And if it wasn't for that, Tull we would never know.
Keep looking, keep looking for a band name to choose,
But the Blacks, Pinks and Purples have already been used!
I've been taking my time, this decision to mull --
You won't find it easy to say Jethro Tull.
Now I've fired all my bandmates but I still use the name,
And hired session musicians, which is really a shame,
And pretend to myself that I still sound the same:
As I sing of the seed drill's coming --
Changing the lyrics for financial gain.
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Post by TM on Mar 12, 2015 12:55:33 GMT -5
Holy crap that's good. lol
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Post by Michael Crowe on Mar 13, 2015 17:59:43 GMT -5
Holy crap that's good. lol It is isn't it. But then the boy is, like myself now, a Potent glockenspielist. Does anyone have an asperin? |
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Bill Baurle
Claghornist
My sperm's in the gutter
Posts: 18
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Post by Bill Baurle on Apr 12, 2015 23:56:55 GMT -5
Thongs From the Hood
Let me bring you thongs from the hood
to make you look much better than you could know.
Flash at every so-and-so,
show your neighbors where you "go",
fill the front with cameltoe.
Stir my poor attention span
By showing off your tawny can.
Let me sing what you have revealed:
Buttocks brown and sweet as sugarcane,
that gives my codpiece such a strain
as I spend again and again
foamy founts like shaken-up champagne.
Crikey, how I love you, dear,
but most of all your lovely rear.
Let me bring you shorts unrefined:
sweet g-strings and things that bear your tail.
Greetings, well-built lady, hail!
I am as hard as any nail,
I am the bloke that will not fail
to shake the tree and ring the chimes
of ghetto hoes with gutter rhymes.
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