One great thing about listening to house music is the absence of formula prevalent in mainstream music and the presence of free form. Literally anything goes. The following are some of the most memorable lyrics I have come across.
Satellite Serenade by Keiichi Suzuki, opener to Sasha and John Digweeds compilation album Northern Exposure (Volume I)
So now, the people who had no land have their own farms. Things in the jungle might be uncomfortable, but at least they have planted their crops and can hope for a good harvest. Their new home is likely to be on the edge of one of the big new roads, such as the Trans-Amazonian Highway. Its an impressive-sounding name, but really its just a very long single-track dirt road. The farm is probably near one of the frontier towns that have sprung up to cater for the incomers. These towns look for all the world like the wild west towns in the cowboy films, with a general store, a saloon bar, a government land claim office and a few other hastily erected wooden shacks.
(Unknown song) on Nick Warrens compilation album Global Underground: Reykjavik
London.
London?
Yeah, London. You know; fish, chips, cup of tea, bad food, worst weather, Mary fucking Poppins. London!
(No offense to Lanna, of course
)
You Are Sleeping by PQM, Luke Chable remix, on Deep Dishs compilation album Global Underground: Toronto: Sharam Afterclub Mix
You pick up this working girl, hooked on smack, who hussles and scores. Thats all I do she says. She says, Ten bucks for head, fifteen for half and half, she says, Three hits a day at 35 per. You say, Thats seven tricks a day at least. She says, Sometimes I get lucky, once this guy gives me a bill and a half just to eat me - only time I ever came.
You figure you can save her.
You sell your color TV that keeps her of the streets a whole day. You hock your typewriter for one jole. Then your shotgun. Your watch. A week later you say, Look, Im a little short, but she says, No scratch, no snatch. You say, Look, it is better to give. But she says, Beat off creep.
One night they spot you on the streets in your skivveys, trying to sell your shoes. You tell them who you are but they nail you, then she happens by and she says, Christ, you look fucked. She says, Hang though! But you dont say anything. You just think, What a bum rap for a nice sensitive guy like me.
And, now, for your moment of Zen
Linc and Helena Moore may have finally learned the answer to that age-old question: Why did the chicken cross the road? Because the chicken doesn't know jaywalking is illegal. Kern County Sheriff's Deputy J. Nicholson does know, however. The deputy issued a ticket March 26 because one of the couple's chickens allegedly impeded traffic in Johannesburg, a rural mining community near Ridgecrest, some 220 miles northeast of Los Angeles. The Moores were in Superior Court on Friday to plead not guilty. A trial was scheduled for May 16.
Satellite Serenade by Keiichi Suzuki, opener to Sasha and John Digweeds compilation album Northern Exposure (Volume I)
So now, the people who had no land have their own farms. Things in the jungle might be uncomfortable, but at least they have planted their crops and can hope for a good harvest. Their new home is likely to be on the edge of one of the big new roads, such as the Trans-Amazonian Highway. Its an impressive-sounding name, but really its just a very long single-track dirt road. The farm is probably near one of the frontier towns that have sprung up to cater for the incomers. These towns look for all the world like the wild west towns in the cowboy films, with a general store, a saloon bar, a government land claim office and a few other hastily erected wooden shacks.
(Unknown song) on Nick Warrens compilation album Global Underground: Reykjavik
London.
London?
Yeah, London. You know; fish, chips, cup of tea, bad food, worst weather, Mary fucking Poppins. London!
(No offense to Lanna, of course
)
You Are Sleeping by PQM, Luke Chable remix, on Deep Dishs compilation album Global Underground: Toronto: Sharam Afterclub Mix
You pick up this working girl, hooked on smack, who hussles and scores. Thats all I do she says. She says, Ten bucks for head, fifteen for half and half, she says, Three hits a day at 35 per. You say, Thats seven tricks a day at least. She says, Sometimes I get lucky, once this guy gives me a bill and a half just to eat me - only time I ever came.
You figure you can save her.
You sell your color TV that keeps her of the streets a whole day. You hock your typewriter for one jole. Then your shotgun. Your watch. A week later you say, Look, Im a little short, but she says, No scratch, no snatch. You say, Look, it is better to give. But she says, Beat off creep.
One night they spot you on the streets in your skivveys, trying to sell your shoes. You tell them who you are but they nail you, then she happens by and she says, Christ, you look fucked. She says, Hang though! But you dont say anything. You just think, What a bum rap for a nice sensitive guy like me.
And, now, for your moment of Zen
Linc and Helena Moore may have finally learned the answer to that age-old question: Why did the chicken cross the road? Because the chicken doesn't know jaywalking is illegal. Kern County Sheriff's Deputy J. Nicholson does know, however. The deputy issued a ticket March 26 because one of the couple's chickens allegedly impeded traffic in Johannesburg, a rural mining community near Ridgecrest, some 220 miles northeast of Los Angeles. The Moores were in Superior Court on Friday to plead not guilty. A trial was scheduled for May 16.