Bulletin Board of Bad Behavior

while I'm avoiding doing work - I did some found poem-ish-things with song lyrics to songs I happened to have been listening to.

I.
This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I've left behind
High on the roof,
Thin the blood,
Another one on the waves tonight,
Comin' in, you're home
The photograph on the dashboard
Taken years ago
And I was remembering
And I was just in a different country
This is my life, and this is my time,
I have been given the freedom to do as I see fit.
It's high time I razed the walls that I've constructed.
Every whisper
Of every waking hour I'm
Choosing my confessions
(she's comin' down on her own, now)
I'm not sure all these people understand
It's not like years ago
The fear of getting caught
But that was just a dream
That was just a dream
And wage war on myself,
It seems like it's all for nothing
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
This is my mistake,
Let me make it good,
I raised the wall,
and I will be the one to knock it down.

II.
Dressed up to the eyes
It's a wonderful surprise
To see your shoes and your spirits rise
Throwing out your frown
And just smiling at the sound
As sleek as a shriek
Spinning round and round
Always take a big bite
It's such a gorgeous sight
To see you eat in the middle of the night
You can never get enough
Looking so long at these pictures of you
But I never hold on to your heart
Looking so long for these words to be true
And dreamed of all the different ways
I had to make her glow
Yes I sometimes even tried to catch her
But never even caught her name

III.
One day I'll get you
And teach you how to get to purest hell
I don't care if it hurts,
I want to have control.
I want a perfect body,
I want a perfect soul.
I want you to notice,
when I'm not around.
I want to be someone else or I'll explode
You'd kill yourself for recognition,
kill yourself to never, ever stop
just because you feel it doesnt mean it's there.
But gravity always wins
And it wears him out, it wears him out
All your insides fall to pieces,
you just sit there wishing you could still make love
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
The words are coming out all weird
Where are you now, when I need you
What the hell am I doing here?

IV.
I hold an image of the ashtray girl
Got a headrush, in her pocket
Two rubbers two lubes, and a silver rocket
Stuck inside the circumstances, lonely at the top.
Just 19 and dream obscene with six months off for bad behaviour
Happily bleeding.
Drunk on immorality, valium and cherry wine
Coke and ecstasy, you're gonna blow your mind
Control your intake
Hold your breath and count to ten,
And fall apart and start again,
You're the one who's always choking trojans
You're the one who's always broken
Sleep may be the enemy
But so is another line
We're running out of alibis
You're goddamn immature
I didn't mean it
You act so insecure
I didn't mean it
I'll be your ether you'll breathe me in
I'm in the basement, you're in the sky,
I'm in the basement baby, drop on by.
I'm lonely.
He spends the afternoon, between your thighs
Cause soulmates never die
I gotta breathe to stay alive,
I gotta get high, before I go outside.
Alcoholic kind of mood
Lose my clothes, lose my lube
Confused and racked with self-doubt
I fall down
Hit the ground
Make a heavy sound
No hesitation, no delay
You come on just like special k
Just like I swallowed half my stash
I never ever wanna crash
I'm weightless
I'm bare
I'm faithless
I'm scared
Beware this troubled world
Sometimes it's faded
Disintergrated
For fear of growing old.

V.
I'll paint you the picture
'cause I don't think you live round here no more
Maybe I just want to breath
Maybe I just don't believe
Maybe you're the same as me
We see things they'll never see
You can give me the dreams that are mine anyway
All your dreams are made
When you're chained to mirror with razor blade
Hold on
Don't be scared
So don't go away,
Say what you say,
Say that you'll stay,
stay young and invincible
'cos we know just what we are, and
Come what may were unstopable
Cos all of the stars
Are fading away
Just try not to worry
You'll see them some day
Take what you need
And be on your way
And stop crying your heart out
I don't wanna be there when your, coming down,
I don't wanna be there when you hit the ground,
because afterall, you're my wonderwall.
Some day you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
because maybe, you'll be the one who saves me.

Tragic, I'm impressed. Work? Whatcha talking bout --
That takes a lot of fucking work. For my brother's thirtieth birthday I took lyrics from his two favorite bands and made a found narrative of his life -- it was a bitch to do and about 1/4th the size of what you've done.

Unjustly, in my opinion, I have a reputation on this board for not liking the poetry. To some it seems that I never have anything positive to add. I really don't mean this to be so.

TP, there are better things to do with your life than rearrange the moronic ramblings of Liam Gallagher. Let's have an original.

This is true Tommy - but, the fact that they are better things makes it all the more appealing

and I don't consider copy and paste much work sara. It's not Latin declusions, or my psych reading, or my English term paper. It's almost finals - there is much work to be done; but I will of course find plenty of time to waste doing such things.

The good times are killing me. Here we go!

Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.

The good times are killing me.

Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me. Jaws clenching tight we talked all night, oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me. The good times are killing me. The good times are killing me.

Fed up with all that ecstasy
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.

Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights with more folks that I don't know. The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.

pretty..

Tragic, I've got a little surprise for you -- to hopefully lessen the work load.

I was in my favorite little bookstore last night, and I saw something that screamed, PRESENT FOR TRAGIC. I think it might help you on your English paper if you need secondary source material; that was always a real problem for me -- one of my school's libraries was so small, but you are the best judge of your school's library. Anyway, here's where you can find the book:

www.uncpress.unc.ed

Enter The Girl on the Magazine Cover (it's by Carolyn Kitch) and it should lead you to the book. There's a nice description of it, so that you can see if it'll be helpful or not.

Dough I've twied befowe to teww hew
Of the feewings I have fow hew in my heawt
Evewy time that I come neaw hew
I just wose my newve as I've done fwom the stawt

Evewy wittwe thing she does is magic
Evewything she do just tuwns me on
Even though my wife befowe was twagic
Now I know my wove fow hew goes on
Do I have to teww the stowy
Of a thousand wainy days since we fiwst met
It's a big enough umbwewwa
But it's awways me that ends up getting wet

Evewy wittwe thing she does is magic
Evewything she do just tuwns me on
Even though my wife befowe was twagic
Now I know my wove fow hew goes on
I wesowved to caww hew up
A thousand times a day
And ask hew if she'ww mawwy me
In some owd fashioned way
But my siwent feaws have gwipped me
Wong befowe I weach the phone
Wong befowe my tongue has twipped me
Must I awways be awone?

LMFAO

Thanks Martino...could be a chart-topper, the elmer fudd cover of Every little thing...