The Legend of Thr33

"You wanna know about Thr33?!" This is probably the best one in the series.

Crash

Crash Boom Splat,
above your head
Crash Boom Tiss
to your right and
to your left

You turn your head whilst complaining
My rebuttal pierces your ear
It's a sad, sappy story
Should have from round 1 been made clear

My heart sinks and explodes into itself
I have seen a man drop dead today
The baby has woken up
Oh dear, oh dear

No Good

"It’s no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn’t even speak to each other if they met at a party."

—Nick Hornby High Fidelity

Words to Try to Use in Colloquial Speech Without Sounding Like a Pretentious Ass

Useful Words

Facade Blues - Ilko Birov

Four Letter Word (Demo) - Ilko Birov

Link to Reverbnation


Have you ever loved someone?
Been with them through thick and strong?
Listened to her all day long
Heard of all the good old songs
by other people everywhere
Singing about love

Four letters are in this word
Mix them up and it gets blurred
Say it right and you'll be heard
Say it right and you'll be heard
'Cause everybody wants to know you care
Even if you really aren't there

I flew towards a bridge the other day
I was so joyous that I simply could not stay on the ground beneath my feet
And the cops they came to meet me
One grabbed me by the shirt
Threw me in his car
Took me to a place

Downtown (many times)

So have you ever loved someone?
Been with her through thick and strong?
Listened to her all day long
Heard of all those good old songs
Of other people singing about love

Ilko Birov

A Place They Call The Machine - Ilko Birov

Click to get to Reverbnation


You're here, and I can see, that you're afraind
But don't be
They've got everything you need

It's like a story full of passion
You really feel alive

And you know, you know, you know, you know
you've really got no place to go
(Segregation, yet no crimes, people's tongues, race their minds)
It's just a place they call The Machine

Now, you want some television? Pop-corn or rice?
Perhaps a movie, perhaps two?
Want some television? Pop-corn or mice?

But you know, you know, you know, you know
You've really got nowhere to go
There's segregation, yet no crime, people's tongues, race their mind

That's what they call it, The Machine


humm, humm humm


Ilko Birov

Nothing's worse than a Suicide Chump (No disrespect to the victims of the events that took place tlweve years ago today)

Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues

Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues

Well, I was feelin’ sad and feelin’ blue
I didn’t know what in the world I wus gonna do
Them Communists they wus comin’ around
They wus in the air
They wus on the ground
They wouldn’t gimme no peace . . .
So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society
I got me a secret membership card
And started off a-walkin’ down the road
Yee-hoo, I’m a real John Bircher now!
Look out you Commies!
Now we all agree with Hitler’s views
Although he killed six million Jews
It don’t matter too much that he was a Fascist
At least you can’t say he was a Communist!
That’s to say like if you got a cold you take a shot of malaria
Well, I wus lookin’ everywhere for them gol-darned Reds
I got up in the mornin’ ’n’ looked under my bed
Looked in the sink, behind the door
Looked in the glove compartment of my car
Couldn’t find ’em . . .
I wus lookin’ high an’ low for them Reds everywhere
I wus lookin’ in the sink an’ underneath the chair
I looked way up my chimney hole
I even looked deep down inside my toilet bowl
They got away . . .
Well, I wus sittin’ home alone an’ started to sweat
Figured they wus in my T.V. set
Peeked behind the picture frame
Got a shock from my feet, hittin’ right up in the brain
Them Reds caused it!
I know they did . . . them hard-core ones
Well, I quit my job so I could work all alone
Then I changed my name to Sherlock Holmes
Followed some clues from my detective bag
And discovered they wus red stripes on the American flag!
That ol’ Betsy Ross . . .
Well, I investigated all the books in the library
Ninety percent of ’em gotta be burned away
I investigated all the people that I knowed
Ninety-eight percent of them gotta go
The other two percent are fellow Birchers . . . just like me
Now Eisenhower, he’s a Russian spy
Lincoln, Jefferson and that Roosevelt guy
To my knowledge there’s just one man
That’s really a true American: George Lincoln Rockwell
I know for a fact he hates Commies cus he picketed the movie Exodus
Well, I fin’ly started thinkin’ straight
When I run outa things to investigate
Couldn’t imagine doin’ anything else
So now I’m sittin’ home investigatin’ myself!
Hope I don’t find out anything . . . hmm, great God!


Bob Dylan

I must admit that despite the wild concert performances, I enjoy the non-live version of this song from The Witmark Demos most (and he doesn't even play the harmonica on this one). I've uploaded it for your listening pleasure at Megaupload, here

"I don't know what they're doin' talkin' New York to him"

Check out the history of this classic Dylan song here: click for the article in Wikipedia

And there's nothing wrong with this song

Car Song

Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brm, brrrm b' brrrm,
Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brrrm b' brrrm,
Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brrrm b' brrrm.
Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brrrm.

Take me riding in the car, car;
Take me riding in the car, car;
Take you riding in the car, car;
I'll take you riding in my car.

Click clack, open up the door, girls;
Click clack, open up the door, boys;
Front door, back door, clickety clack,
Take you riding in my car.

Climb, climb, rattle on the front seat;
Spree I spraddle on the backseat;
Turn my key, step on my starter,
Take you riding in my car.

Engine it goes boom, boom;
Engine it goes boom, boom;
Front seat, backseat, boys and girls,
Take you riding in my car.

Trees and the houses walk along;
Trees and the houses walk along;
Truck and a car and a garbage can,
Take you riding in my car.

Ships and the little boars chug along;
Ships and the little boats chug along;
Boom buhbuh boom boom boom buh boom,
Take you riding in my car.

I'm a gonna send you home again;
I'm a gonna send you home again;
Boom, boom, buhbuh boom, rolling home,
Take you riding in my car.

I'm a gonna let You blow the horn;
I'm a gonna let you blow the horn;
A oorah, a oorah, a oogah, oogah,
I'll take you riding in my car.

Woody Guthrie

written for his young daughter and her friends 

Black Swine

Via Sinfest: The Webcomic To End all Webcomics