Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.
No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."
Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.
~~~~~~~Daily Dylan~~~~~~
How good is Beck? I mean really, the man is too goddamn cool for any school. Can you get any suaver than the song 'Debra'? "I wanna get with you. . . ohhhhhhhh, and your sister. I think her name is Debra." When I meet the lady who understands why that should be the first song we dance to after our wedding, well, then I'll go a courtin' and get married. I went for drinks tonight after a hard day of web surfing at the office, and feel quite good. Sometimes, it's nice to drink a bit and get that warm feeling. The trouble is, that when I get in this nice slightly drunken mood, I get all sorts of crazy energy and usually end up hanging out on a street corner, or joinging a gang. Seriously, these are the mean streets of the upper east side! What??? You can't picture me as a gang banger? Why the fuck not? Methinks my look is not helping my street cred at SG, homeys. I need to work on this. Get me some tatoos in the Boogie Down. Tim Dog, that's my motherfuckin' name! Hmmm, go out, or chill and maybe watch me a good movie. Dunno. Big money, big money, no whammies!
With a soulful, bounding leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.
No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."
Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.
~~~~~~~Daily Dylan~~~~~~
How good is Beck? I mean really, the man is too goddamn cool for any school. Can you get any suaver than the song 'Debra'? "I wanna get with you. . . ohhhhhhhh, and your sister. I think her name is Debra." When I meet the lady who understands why that should be the first song we dance to after our wedding, well, then I'll go a courtin' and get married. I went for drinks tonight after a hard day of web surfing at the office, and feel quite good. Sometimes, it's nice to drink a bit and get that warm feeling. The trouble is, that when I get in this nice slightly drunken mood, I get all sorts of crazy energy and usually end up hanging out on a street corner, or joinging a gang. Seriously, these are the mean streets of the upper east side! What??? You can't picture me as a gang banger? Why the fuck not? Methinks my look is not helping my street cred at SG, homeys. I need to work on this. Get me some tatoos in the Boogie Down. Tim Dog, that's my motherfuckin' name! Hmmm, go out, or chill and maybe watch me a good movie. Dunno. Big money, big money, no whammies!
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
But watch your back. We all know the UES can be crazy like that. You never know when some crazed yuppie jacked up on one too many double half-caff easy mocha mochas is gonna start some shit and you, Tim Dog, are gonna be forced to throw down.