What song tells a vivid story?

[blackdragon6]

whats your favorite song of this type? and explain what the story is about.

[Indigo Al]

White Girl - X and I'm not quite sure what the song is about.

[Deathstroke]

Aerosmith - Janie's Got a Gun.

It's the story of a girl who's sexually abused by her father and how she eventually takes that bastard out.

The song is descriptive enough, but if you combine it with an incredible video it reaches the summit for me.

[Spike-X]

Hey, Eddie, can you lend me a few bucks
And tonight can you get us a ride
Gotta make it through the tunnel
Got a meeting with a man on the other side

Hey Eddie, this guy, he's the real thing
So if you want to come along
You gotta promise you won't say anything
'Cause this guy don't dance
And the word's been passed this is our last chance

We gotta stay cool tonight, Eddie
'Cause man, we got ourselves out on that line
And if we blow this one
They ain't gonna be looking for just me this time

And all we gotta do is hold up our end
Here stuff this in your pocket
It'll look like you're carrying a friend
And remember, just don't smile
Change your shirt, 'cause tonight we got style

Well Cherry says she's gonna walk
'Cause she found out I took her radio and hocked it
But Eddie, man, she don't understand
That two grand's practically sitting here in my pocket

And tonight's gonna be everything that I said
And when I walk through that door
I'm just gonna throw that money on the bed
She'll see this time I wasn't just talking
Then I'm gonna go out walking

Hey Eddie, can you catch us a ride?

You just know it's not gonna end well.

[Spike-X]

The rangers had a homecoming in Harlem late last night
And the Magic Rat drove his sleek machine over the Jersey state line
Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge
Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain
The Rat pulls into town rolls up his pants
Together they take a stab at romance and disappear down Flamingo Lane

Well the Maximum Lawman run down Flamingo chasing the Rat and the barefoot girl
And the kids round here look just like shadows always quiet, holding hands
From the churches to the jails tonight all is silence in the world
As we take our stand down in Jungleland

The midnight gang's assembled and picked a rendezvous for the night
They'll meet 'neath that giant Exxon sign that brings this fair city light
Man there's an opera out on the Turnpike
There's a ballet being fought out in the alley
Until the local cops, Cherry Tops, rips this holy night
The street's alive as secret debts are paid
Contacts made, they vanished unseen
Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades hustling for the record machine
The hungry and the hunted explode into rock'n'roll bands
That face off against each other out in the street down in Jungleland

In the parking lot the visionaries dress in the latest rage
Inside the backstreet girls are dancing to the records that the D.J. plays
Lonely-hearted lovers struggle in dark corners
Desperate as the night moves on, just a look and a whisper, and they're gone

Beneath the city two hearts beat
Soul engines running through a night so tender in a bedroom locked
In whispers of soft refusal and then surrender in the tunnels uptown
The Rat's own dream guns him down as shots echo down them hallways in the night
No one watches when the ambulance pulls away
Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light

Outside the street's on fire in a real death waltz
Between flesh and what's fantasy and the poets down here
Don't write nothing at all, they just stand back and let it all be
And in the quick of the night they reach for their moment
And try to make an honest stand but they wind up wounded, not even dead
Tonight in Jungleland


Best. Song. Ever.

[Jonathan Bogart]

So, so many to choose from.

I think some of my favorites of the genre are some of the oldest songs that exist: songs of uncertain provenance like "Frankie and Johnny" or "Stagger Lee" or, to skip back even more over the centuries and halfway round the world, English ballads like "Mary of the Wild Moor" or "Lord Randal."

The Beatles, particularly Paul McCartney, had an affection for such story-songs: "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" and "The Ballad of Rocky Raccoon" come to mind. (And "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da," but that's not in any sense a favorite.)

The Clash told great stories (they even updated "Stagger Lee" for the streets of Kingston): probably my favorite of theirs is "The Card Cheat," a cinematic piece of bombast that sounds like a Bernard Hermann film score squished into the confines of a Roy Orbison song. (Speaking of which, "Pretty Woman" is a great little anecdote of a song: the story's as basic as possible, but Orbison sells it with his delivery.)

A great mid-century lyricist like Johnny Mercer, in collaboration with Harold Arlen or Hoagy Carmichael, could turn a set of off-the-cuff lyrics into a character study as profound as a Hemingway short story or a Hopper painting: I'm thinking of "One for My Baby (and One More for the Road)," particularly Sinatra's definitive version. On a similar note, Ella Fitzgerald's version of "Miss Otis Regrets" manages to leach the camp out of Cole Porter's lyrics without removing any of the mocking dignity.

But I think probably the undisputed champion of storytelling in music is Bob Dylan, at least until late 80s rap. (Rap's ability, and willingness, to extend the lyrical content of a song almost indefinitely is probably at least indirectly inspired by Dylan.) Dylan's best story-songs are vivid without being concrete; they have a vague, hallucinatory quality that he borrowed from certain aspects of the folk/blues tradition (and also from certain aspects of avant-garde poetry). "Tangled Up in Blue" might be his best; but so might "Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts," or "The Ballad of Frankie Laine and Judas Priest," or "Desolation Row."

(Edit: Oh, goddamn, I forgot "Hurricane," the greatest protest story-song ever. It's probably all bullshit, but it feels so true, you can smell the Miami air.)

Country music is a great source for story-songs, too -- or at least it was. I haven't listened much since the 70s. George Jones's "He Stopped Loving Her Today," or Johnny Cash's "Mean-Eyed Cat" (or "Folsom Prison Blues," or "Boy Named Sue"). So, for that matter, was early rock & roll: Chuck Berry's "Memphis, Tennessee" has a neck-snapping twist in the narrative that barely gives you time to catch your breath before the song's over.

Ooh, one more: the Shangri-La's "The Leader of the Pack." If R. Kelly's demented "Trapped in the Closet" saga has an origin in classic pop (or anywhere outside his own so-twisted-as-to-bear-comparison-with-Phil-Spector head), it's in the supremely bitchy, drama-queen music of the Shangri-La's.

[leonaozaki]

[QUOTE=Jonathan Bogart}


But I think probably the undisputed champion of storytelling in music is Bob Dylan, at least until late 80s rap. (Rap's ability, and willingness, to extend the lyrical content of a song almost indefinitely is probably at least indirectly inspired by Dylan.)


[/QUOTE]

Speaking of that: have you heard Bob's solo version of "Subterranean Homesick Blues?" It sounds, at times, like some kind of mutant proto-rap.

rob

[Jonathan Bogart]

Speaking of that: have you heard Bob's solo version of "Subterranean Homesick Blues?" It sounds, at times, like some kind of mutant proto-rap.
Hell, the original Bringing It All Back Home version does.

[Catman_3]

Smoke On The Water-Deep Purple

We all came out to Montreux on the Lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile - We didn't have much time
Frank Zappa & the Mothers were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun burned the place to the ground


Smoke on the water - A fire in the sky
Smoke on the water


They burned down the gambling house - It died with an awful sound
Funky & Claude was running in and out, pulling kids out of the ground
When it all was over, we had to find another place
Swiss time was running out - It seemed that we would lose the race


Smoke on the water - A fire in the sky
Smoke on the water


We ended up at the Grand Hotel - It was empty, cold and bare
But with the Rolling Truck Stones Thing just outside making our music there
With a few red lights an' a few old beds, we made a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this, I know... I know we'll never forget


Smoke on the water - A fire in the sky
Smoke on the water

[leonaozaki]

Hell, the original Bringing It All Back Home version does.

Well, that's true, but I heard it more clearly in the demo version for some reason.

rob

[leonaozaki]

Neil Young, "Powderfinger," from Rust Never Sleeps

Look out, Mama,
there's a white boat
comin' up the river
With a big red beacon,
and a flag,
and a man on the rail
I think you'd better call John,
'Cause it don't
look like they're here
to deliver the mail
And it's less than a mile away
I hope they didn't come to stay
It's got numbers on the side
and a gun
And it's makin' big waves.

Daddy's gone,
my brother's out hunting
in the mountains
Big John's been drinking
since the river took Emmy-Lou
So the powers that be
left me here
to do the thinkin'
And I just turned twenty-two
I was wonderin' what to do
And the closer they got,
The more those feelings grew.

Daddy's rifle in my hand
felt reassurin'
He told me,
Red means run, son,
numbers add up to nothin'
But when the first shot
hit the docks I saw it comin'
Raised my rifle to my eye
Never stopped to wonder why.
Then I saw black,
And my face splashed in the sky.

Shelter me from the powder
and the finger
Cover me with the thought
that pulled the trigger
Think of me
as one you'd never figured
Would fade away so young
With so much left undone
Remember me to my love,
I know I'll miss her.

[Tish-the-Scorpion]

I Love story telling in rap songs!!,i think its one of the hallmarks of rapping.


IceT's-6 in the mornin ice-t tells a story about his day on the run that started during 6am.

Lord Infamous (the scarecrow) of three 6 mafia fame-remade the ice-t song but called it 3 to the 6 in the mornin.the difference is that he takes a female hostage at the end only to get taken out by a roof top sniper that he notices too little too late

Master-P-has a simuler song about him breaking out of prison

C-Murder-Duck and Run he talks about how violent his concerts get

Bone Thugs-n-Harmony- Down 71 The getaway Bizzy Bone gets put on death row and the other 2 members try to break him out.a verry adrenalin pumping song thats fast paced.their song implies they have one more to go but they never made a follow up song unfortunatley.

Krayzie Bone-Shoot the club up kray talks about how dangerous clubs can be.its actually a serious song not satire

Krayzie BonePayback Iz A Bitch kray plays the role of a hitman

Ice Cube-today was a good day this is kinda self explanatory really.its basically ice cube having an unusually good day

2pac-Brenda got a baby pac talks about a pregnant 12 year old girl who has lived a horrible life.that song is just heart breaking,and brutally realistic.if it doesn't move you than your not human.it also doesn't end hapily ever after either.

Notorious B.I.G-Warning talks about big getting death threats

Project pat-we can get gangsta pat talks about a drug deal that goes horribly wrong

NWA-100 miles and runin its about them being on the run after a violent prison break.the video however tells it better.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O05nZrntjLA

[Gilda Dent]

Dar Willaims has several gems:

The Babysitter's Here:

Tonight was just great, she taught us the sign for peace
Now she's made us some popcorn, we've turned out the lights
And we're watching movies
I don't understand and she tries to explain
How a spaceship is riding through somebody's brain
And there's blood and guts and . . .

She's the best one that we've ever had
She sits on her hair and she's tall as my dad
And she tie-dyed my shirt and she pierced her own ear
And it's peace, man, cool, yeah, the babysitter's here.

Her boyfriend is Tom, but we call him the King of Romance.
He wears an American flag on the butt of his ripped up pants
and will they get married with kids of their own?
He says, "Not if she's going to college we won't"
And he kisses her, oh...
Someday I'll have a boyfriend just like that.

She's the best one that we've ever had
She sits on her hair and she's tall as my dad
And she got mad at dinner when Tom drank a beer
But peace, man, cool, hey, the babysitter's here.

And we all went to see her go dance at the high school
We made her a big card
And she told us that she'd be the unicorn wearing the pink
leotard, and
There she was leaping up just like she said
With a sparkling horn coming out of her head
And she's oh, oh, oh, oh
(I can't wait to give her the card, I can't wait to give her the card)
She's the best one . . .

(OK, so the play was called "The Unicorn" and she was the
unicorn so that means that the star was my babysitter.)

But it's Saturday night I can't sleep and we're watching the news.
She says, "Do me a favor don't go with a guy who would make you choose."
And I don't understand and she tries to explain
And all that mascara runs down in her pain
'Cause she's leaving me, oh

You're the best one that we've ever had,
You sit on your hair and you're tall as my dad
And I'll make you a picture for college next year
So hush now, Peace man, the babysitter's here,
The best babysitter's here

~

The Christians and the Pagans

Amber called her uncle, said "We're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece, "It's Christmas Eve, I know our life is not your style,"
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and its been awhile,"

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.

The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch,
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen,
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian,"
"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And where does magic come from? I think magic's in the learning,
'Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning.

When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother."
Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father.
He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year,
He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here."
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve, saying,
"Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "We'll discuss it when they leave."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.

~

The Pointless, Yet Poignant Crisis of a Co-ed

I'm not a leader, i'm not a left-wing rhetoric mobilizing force of one,
But there was a time way back, many years ago in college, don't laugh,
But I thought I was a radical, I ran the hemp Liberation League with my
boyfriend,
It was true love, with a common cause, and besides that, he was a Sagittarius.

We used to say that our love was like hemp rope, three times as strong as the
rope that you buy domestically,
And we would bond in the face of oppression from big business and the deans,
But I knew there was a problem, every time the group would meet everyone would
light up,
That made it difficult to discuss glaucoma and human rights, not to mention
chemotherapy.

Well sometimes, life gives us lessons sent in ridiculous packaging,
And so I found him in the arms of a Student Against the Treacherous use of Fur,
And he gave no apology, he just turned to me, stoned out to the edge of
oblivion,
He didn't pull up the sheets and I think he even smiled as he said to me,
"Well, I guess our dreams went up in smoke."
And I said, No, our dreams went up in dreams, you stupid pothead,
And another thing, what kind of a name is Students Against the Treacherous Use
of Fur?
Fur is already dead, and besides, a name like that doesn't make a good acronym.

I am older now, I know the rise and gradual fall of a daily victory.
And I still write to my senators, saying they should legalize cannabis,
And I should know, cause I am a horticulturist, I have a husband and two
children out in Lexington, Mass.
And my ex-boyfriend can't tell me I've sold out, because he's in a cult.
And he's not allowed to talk to me.


There are many others, but those are among the most memorable.

Gilda

[DDM]

Siouxsie & the Banshees, "Scarecrow"

The story is about a person who falls in love with a scarecrow. He or she goes to him late at night & talks to him until the morning; the person creeps back into the bed in the morning. The person tells the friends about the boyfriend scarecrow, but they think the person's insane. The person is. Mad that the friends don't believe him or her, he or she plots his or her friends murders with the scarecrow. The person says he or she will "bake their bones for telling lies/then pour the gravy in their eye." Basically, I believe it's about cannibalism. The person dreams about the scarecrow's turning his "rags to riches."

From the 1988 album, Peepshow.

[blackdragon6]

HELL-SENT by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony-in the song they sold their souls to the devil,but later changed their minds.but of course the devil wouldn't give it back so they decided to get it back.they enter hell (it isn't explained how but it might be due to the Quija board) with guns that are apparently good or evily enchanted and start to blast away demons and witches.when they make it to the Abyss they dethrone the devil and his son,kill them and take over the under world.:evilsmile


bad ass song!!

[scratchie]

"And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" by Eric Bogle

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again

Now those that were left, well we tried to survive
In a mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
But around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me
And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong
Who'll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?



"John Brown" by Bob Dylan

John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore.
His mama sure was proud of him!
He stood straight and tall in his uniform and all.
His mama's face broke out all in a grin.

"Oh son, you look so fine, I'm glad you're a son of mine,
You make me proud to know you hold a gun.
Do what the captain says, lots of medals you will get,
And we'll put them on the wall when you come home."

As that old train pulled out, John's ma began to shout,
Tellin' ev'ryone in the neighborhood:
"That's my son that's about to go, he's a soldier now, you know."
She made well sure her neighbors understood.

She got a letter once in a while and her face broke into a smile
As she showed them to the people from next door.
And she bragged about her son with his uniform and gun,
And these things you called a good old-fashioned war.

Oh! Good old-fashioned war!

Then the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come.
They ceased to come for about ten months or more.
Then a letter finally came saying, "Go down and meet the train.
Your son's a-coming home from the war."

She smiled and went right down, she looked everywhere around
But she could not see her soldier son in sight.
But as all the people passed, she saw her son at last,
When she did she could hardly believe her eyes.

Oh his face was all shot up and his hand was all blown off
And he wore a metal brace around his waist.
He whispered kind of slow, in a voice she did not know,
While she couldn't even recognize his face!

Oh! Lord! Not even recognize his face.

"Oh tell me, my darling son, pray tell me what they done.
How is it you come to be this way?"
He tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move
And the mother had to turn her face away.

"Don't you remember, Ma, when I went off to war
You thought it was the best thing I could do?
I was on the battleground, you were home . . . acting proud.
You wasn't there standing in my shoes."

"Oh, and I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here?
I'm a-tryin' to kill somebody or die tryin'.
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close
And I saw that his face looked just like mine."

Oh! Lord! Just like mine!

"And I couldn't help but think, through the thunder rolling and stink,
That I was just a puppet in a play.
And through the roar and smoke, this string is finally broke,
And a cannon ball blew my eyes away."

As he turned away to walk, his Ma was still in shock
At seein' the metal brace that helped him stand.
But as he turned to go, he called his mother close
And he dropped his medals down into her hand.

[DrewTheXenocide]

The Kinks' "Lola"


I met her in a club down in old Soho where you
drink champagne and it tastes just like cherry-Cola C-O-L-A cola
she walked up to me and she asked me to dance
I asked her her name and in a dark brown voice she said
Lola L-O-L-A Lola Lo lo lo lo Lo - la

Well I'm not the world's most physical guy
But when she sqeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine
Oh my Lola la-la-la-la Lola
Well I'm not dumb but I can't understand
Why she walked like a woman but talked like a man
Oh my Lola la-la-la-la Lola la-la-la-la Lola

Well, we drank champagne and danced all night
Under electric candle light
She picked me up and sat me on her knee
and said "Dear boy won't you come home with me?"
Well, I'm not the world's most passionate guy,
but when I looked in her eyes, well I almost fell for my
Lola Lo lo lo lo Lo - la Lo lo lo lo Lo - la
Lola Lo lo lo lo Lo - la Lo lo lo lo Lo - la

I pushed her away
I walked to the door
I fell to the floor
I got down on my knees
Then I looked at her and she at me

Well that's the way that I want it to stay
And I always want it to be that way for my Lola
La-la-la-la Lola
Girls will be boys and boys will be girls
It's a mixed up muddled up shook up world except for Lola
La-la-la-la Lola

CHORUS #2:
Well I left home just a week before
And I'd never ever kissed a woman before
But Lola smiled and took me by the hand
And said "Dear boy, I'm gonna make you a man"

Well I'm not the world's most masculine man
But I know what I am in the bed, i'm a man
And so is Lola
La-la-la-la Lola la-la-la-la Lola
Lola la-la-la-la Lola la-la-la-la Lola

Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl turns out to be a dude.

[spideyrules99]

Objects in the rearbiew mirror - Meatloaf. Story about a kids life. As a kid when his dad beats him. Than losing his firend and than loving an older woman. It was a great song.

[StoneGold]

Damn near the entire Johnny Cash catalog?

[howyadoin]

It was the 3rd of June, another sleepy dusty Delta day.
I was out choppin' cotton and my brother was bailin' hay.
And at dinner time we stopped and walked back to the house to eat.
And mama hollered out the backdoor, "Y'all remember to wipe your feet."
And then she said, "I got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge.
Today Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge."

Papa said to mama as he passed around the blackeyed peas,
"Well, Billy Joe never had a lick of sense; pass the biscuits please.
There's 5 more acres in the lower 40 I got to plow."
And mama said it was a shame about Billy Joe anyhow.
Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge,
and now Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge.

And brother said he recollected when he and Tom and Billy Joe
put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show.
And wasn't I talkin' to him after church last Sunday night?
"I'll have another piece of apple pie; you know it don't seem right.
I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge
and now you tell me Billy Joe's jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge."

And mama said to me, "Child what's happened to your appetite?
I been cookin' all morning and you havent touched a single bite.
That nice young preacher brother Taylor dropped by today,
said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday; oh by the way,
he said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge,
and she and Billy Joe was throwin' something off the Tallahatchee Bridge."

A year's come and gone since we heard the news ´bout Billy Joe.
'N brother married Becky Thompson ´n´ they bought a store in Tupelo.
There was a virus goin' round, papa caught it and he died last spring,
and now mama doesn´t seem to wanna do much of anything.
And me, I spend a lotta time pickin' flowers up on Choctaw Ridge,
and drop 'em into the muddy water off the Tallahatchee bridge.

[SUPERECWFAN1]

It tells the story of a man meeting a woman and how close they become as the main charactor is in a Rock Band. They marry and have a nice reception then...the rain comes. In the end we see that the woman has died in some kind of accident leaving her widow to suffer the lingering effcts of missing her in this cold November Rain.

( I really wonder what Axl had planned if he got his wish for the 20+ minute song and Video ? :D )

[Patient Boy]

The Coup - Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada Last Night

Great, great song. Good enough to have a book based on it. Shame the book was crap though.

[Shady Jack]

I live in a town called Milhaven
And it's small, and it's mean, and it's cold
But if you come around just as the sun goes down
You can watch the whole thing turn to gold
It's around about then that I used to go a-roaming
Singing La la la la La la la lie
All God's children they all gotta die

My name is Loretta, but I prefer Lottie
I'm closing in on my fifteenth year
And if you think you ever seen a pair of eyes more green
Then you sure haven't see 'em around here
My hair is yellow and I'm always a-combing
La la la la La la la lie
Mama often told me we all got to die

You must have heard about The Curse Of Milhaven
How last Christmas Bill Blake's little boy didn't come home
They found him the next week, up in One Mile Creek
with his head bashed in and his pockets full of stones
Well, just imagine all the wailing and moaning
La la la la La la la lie
Even little Billy Blake's boy, he had to die

Then Professor O'Rye, from Milhaven High
Found nailed to his door his prize-winning terrier
Then next day the old fool brought little Biko to school
And we all had to watch as he buried her
His eulogy to Biko had all the tears a-flowing
La la la la La la la lie
Even God's little creatures, they have to die

Our little town fell into a state of shock
A lot of people were saying things that made little sense
Then the next thing you know the head of Handyman Joe
Was found in the fountain of the Mayor's residence
Well foul play can really get a small town going
La la la la La la la lie
Even God's children all have to die

Then, in a cruel twist of fate, old Mrs Colgate
Was stabbed but the job was not complete
The last thing she said before the cops pronounced her dead
Was, "My killer is Loretta and she lives across the street!"
Twenty cops burst through my door without even phoning
La la la la La la la lie
The young ones, the old ones, they all gotta die

Yes, it is I, Lottie, The Curse Of Milhaven
I've struck horror in the heart of this town
Like my eyes ain't green and my hair ain't yellow
It's more like the other way around
I gotta pretty little mouth underneath all the foaming
La la la la La la la lie
Sooner or later we all gotta die

Since I was no bigger than a weavil, they've been saying I was evil
That if bad was a boot that I'd fit it
That I'm a wicked young lady, but I've been trying hard lately
Oh f*** it! I'm a monster! I admit it!
It makes me so mad my blood really starts a-going
La la la la La la la lie
Mama always told me that we all gotta die

Yeah, I drowned the Blakey kid, stabbed Mrs. Colgate, I admit
Did the handyman with his circular saw in his garden shed
But I never crucified little Biko, that was two junior high school psychos
Stinky Bohoon and his friend with the pumpkin-sized head
I'll sing to the lot, now you got me going
La la la la La la la lie
All God's children have all gotta die

There were all the others, all our sisters and brothers
You assumed were accidents, best forgotten
Recall the children who broke through, the ice on Lake Tahoo?
Everyone assumed the "Warning" signs had followed them to the bottom
Well, they're underneath the house where I do quite a bit of stowing
La la la la La la la lie
Even twenty little children, they had to die

And the fire of '91 that razed the Bella Vista slum
There was the biggest s***-fight this country's ever seen
Insurance companies ruined, land lords getting sued
All cause of wee girl with a can of gasoline
Those flames really roared, when the wind started blowing
La la la la La la la lie
Rich man, poor man, all got to die

Well I confessed to all these crimes and they put me on trial
I was laughing when they took me away
Off to the asylum, in an old black Mariah
It ain't home, but you know, it's better than jail
It ain't such bad old place, to have a home in
La la la la La la la lie
All God's children they all gotta die

Now I got shrinks that will not rest with their endless Rorschach tests
I keep telling them they're out to get me
They ask me if I feel remorse and I answer, "Why of course!
There is so much more I could have done if they'd let me!"
So it's Rorschach and Prozac and everything is groovy
Singing La la la la La la la lie
All God's children they all have to die
La la la la La la la lie
I'm happy as a lark and everything is fine
Singing La la la la La la la lie
Yeah, everything is groovy and everything is fine
Singing La la la la La la la lie
All God's children they gotta die

The Curse of Milhaven -Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

[The Mirrorball Man]

This song depicts - quite vividly I'd say - a particularly nasty encounter with a bouncer. I think we've all been there:

Last night these two bouncers
And one of em's alright
The other one's the scary one
His way or no way, totalatarian

He's got no time for you
Looking or breathing
How he don't want you to

So step out the queue
He makes examples of you
And there's nowt you can say
Behind they go through to the bit where you pay
And you realise then that it's finally the time
To walk back past ten thousand eyes in the line

And you can swap jumpers and make another move
Instilled in your brain you've got something to prove
To all the smirking faces and the boys in black
Why can't they be pleasant?
Why can't they have a laugh?

He's got his hand in your chest
He wants to give you a duff
Well secrectly I think they want it all to kick off
They want, arms flying everywhere and
Bottles as well it's just
Something to talk about
A story to tell you
[...]
Full lyrics here. (http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/From-The-Ritz-To-The-Rubble-lyrics-Arctic-Monkeys/0C3FC436A1073795482570B000299900)

It's by Arctics Monkeys, and it's called "From the Ritz to the Rubble"

And here's another song by Saul Williams, called "Black Stacey", in which he tells about feeling "too black" growing up:

I used to hump my pillow at night.
The type of silent prayer to help myself prepare for the light.
Me and my cousin Duce would rank the girls between one and ten
and the highest number got to be my pillows pretend.
Now I apologize to every high ranker.
But you taught me how to dream and so I also thank you.
I never had the courage to approach you at school.
We joked around a lot and I know you thought I dressed cool.
But I was just covering up all the insecurities that came bubbling up.
My complexion had
me stuck in an emotional rut, 'like the time you Flavor Flaved me and you called me
"Yo Chuck, they say
you're too black, man".
I think I'm too black.
Mom, do you think I'm too black? I think I'm too black.
Black Stacey.
They called me Black Stacey.
I never got to be myself 'cause to
myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose
and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn't phase me.
I was Black Stacey.
the preachers' son from Haiti
who rhymed a lot and always got the dance steps at the party.
I was Black Stacey.
you thought it wouldn't phase me, but it did 'cause I was just a kid.
[...]
Full lyrics here. (http://www.lyricsdownload.com/saul-williams-black-stacey-lyrics.html)

[Grazzt]

I thought Chris de Burgh was pretty good at these types of songs. Patricia the Stipper, A Spaceman Came Travelling, and the Spanish Train all come to mind.

[Rob Allen]

I posted this on a mailing list three years ago in response to the same question:

I'm far from being a rap fan, but I heard this yesterday and laughed out loud at the end. I looked up the lyrics the next time I was online (one of the things I love about the internet), and I'm impressed. It has a reference to an old folk song, tells a real story vividly enough to picture it, and touches on issues of compassion and charity. On the down side, there are a couple of profane words and the rhyme & meter are a little ragged. I hope you like it.

Artist: Spearhead
Album: Home
Title: Hole in the Bucket

(Money Money Money Money Nothin But Money)

I work 9 to 5 but it starts in the P.M.
and I love the sunrise so I step out in the A.M.
the street is black and shiny from the early nightly rainin'
the glory of the light it brings evaporation
morning's fresh oxygen cleanest
I take a deep hit help my mind stay the greenest
I'm already 'wake so I'm not drinkin' coffee
don't wanna cigarette 'cause it's a form of slavery
walkin' to the store 'cause I need a few items
the sun heats the blood like a hit of vitamins
need to buy some food and some 'poo for my dreads
can't remember why but I need a spool of thread
Man with dirty dreads steps around the corner
he asks me for a dime, a nickel or a quarter
I don't have any change so I'm steppin' along
and as I'm walkin' past he sings to me a song...

(chorus)
There's a hole in the bucket, dear liza, dear liza...(repeat)

The day is pickin' up cause I'm hummin' his song
the buses and the people all keep movin' along
to the shopkeeper I say "was'sup?"
and I'm thinkin' about the man who's holdin' up the cup
I pay for all the stuff and get a pocketful of change
should I give it to the man's the question in my brain
What's gonna happen if I give the man a dime?
I don't wanna pay for another brother's wine
What's gonna happen if I give the man a quarter?
will he find a dealer and try to place an order?
what's gonna happen if I give the man a nickel
will he buy some food or some pork that's been pickled?
I'm not responsible for the man's depression
how can I find compassion in the midst of recession?
How come all these questions keep fuckin' with my head
and I still can't remember why I need a spool of thread.

(chorus)

He's starin' in my eyes just as I'm walkin' past
I'm tryin to avoid him cause I know he's gonna ask
me about the coinage that is in my pocket
But I don't know if I should put it in his bucket
walk right past him to think about it more
back at the crib I'm openin' up the door
a pocketful of change it don't mean a lot to me
my cup is half full but his is empty
I put back on my cap and I start headin' back
I reach into my pocket and I have a heart attack
well, as I'm diggin' deep I scream "oh no!"
there's nothin' in the pocket but a great big hole
While I was busy thinkin' if he would buy smack
the jingle in my pocket it slipped through the crack
no one has the change and it's fuckin' up my head
But now I know the reason why I had to buy the thread!

(chorus)

[Alex]

A lot of Dylan songs are him sort of singing an entire story.
And the lyrics often don't flow like song lyrics, they actually sound like a guy telling a story, but he added a chorus in the middle of certain parts.

[DennyK]

Gimme Three Steps ~ Lynyrd Skynyrd


Story: One redneck is hitting on another redneck's girlfriend at a hole in the wall bar, and asks to be given three steps towards the door before he gets the snot beat out of him (or worse).

[DennyK]

There are just too many Warren Zevon songs to mention that fit this category.

[ocelotrevs]

All of Coheed and Cambria's songs tell a tale, and build it up.

This a love song, from 'children' to their father (creator)

In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3
A broad incision sits across the evening
The victim to our father's lost war
The restless children sit and mourn the graves
Of those they've never seen before
Will they be buried here among the dead?
In the silent secret

The pioneers
In dealing with it they march for dawn... of will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born...

Man your own jackhammer
Man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon
Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine
Man your own battle station
We'll have you home pretty soon

Awake through motion
With curiosity to curtain your first move
Over arms length they'll break protocol
Jealous envy for the youngest one
To be hero is all i'll ask
Can I be buried here among the dead, with room to honor me here in the en
You'll be better off too son
You'll be better off when you get home

For you,
I'd do anything just to make you happy, hear you tell me that you're proud of me
For them,
I'd kill anything cut the throats of babies for them break their hearts for they were them.
Waiting for you to say... I love you too.

The navigator
The pilot
Her favorite
The one they call the vision that bares the gift

Will,
Do the children really understand the things you did to them?
And why oh why...
Should they conjure up the will for you my love would kill him

In the seventh turning hour
Should the victims shadow fall
Will the irony grow hungry?
With the victory and all they sought for
We were one among the fence
One among the fence

This is from their 2nd album, and tells the story of a freight ship Captain.

The Camper Velourium III: Al the Killer
At birth given scars along tender heart liberties
In justice for awkward living situated casualties
They lay dead along your floor
Careful not to wake them they're sleeping
In the morrows good mourning
The dying will discard the wish to live

Let this colony know in the name of the dead we're coming

When I kill her, i'll have her
Die white girls, die white girls

You'll get nothing for something
Arise the hidden war of a dead song unsung
The night of your children's day
Beneath the surface sealed by the floors boarded up
Seal the lips of your voice with haste
And cower at the sounds as they make their way
Surprise speed and malice
The opposing break the surface hold ready

Will the killing veil love should the heroes play dumb
But killing no fun when the heroes are none

Bye, bye world

[DennyK]

I am so old, I have no idea who Coheed and Cambria are.

[Michael P]

Ode to Billy Joe
I still remember quite clearly the moment I realized just what they threw off the Tallahatchee Bridge.

I like how "Pancho and Lefty" gives you the beginning and the end of the story, and leaves you to fill in the middle.

[Ed Cunard]

Lots of good choices, here--a lot of ones I would have picked are already posted. I love narrative songs. The first one that came to mind was Johnny Cash's "Long Black Veil." The Decemberists do a lot of narrative songs as well.

I'm also partial to songs like Bobby Darin's versions of "Artificial Flowers" and "Mack the Knife."

Gilda,

You've reminded me of Dar William's "Alleluia":


Ron and Nancy got the house but Sid and Nancy rule
I died 8 years ago I'm still a legend at my high school
I stole a Chevy and I wrapped it round a tree
But that's OK cause no one's gonna make the next century
I'm up in heaven now they say I'm here to stay
Where the clouds are really puffy and the angels sing every day
Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia, Wo-oh . . .

The cafeteria's got everything it's gonna drive me mad
Cause it looks just like a big Hawaiian party that my mother had
It's like the worst Elvis film I've ever seen
Technicolor luau all on technicolor green
There's camping trips and donkey rides and singing round the fire
And they signed me up for surfing
But they can't get me in the choir
Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia, Wo-oh . . .

But there she was this morning getting fitted for her wings
Leather boots magenta hair and saying nasty things
I'd say she was an angel but it's stupid and it's obvious
I said you'll hate it here cause we're the only ones like us
It's crypto-fascist mania it's silicon deliria
Yeah, she said, you're right, but I like the cafeteria
. . . . . . . . . . . .

Hey God we're the bad kids we're so nasty mean and vile
God looks like a guidance counselor God's got that smile
God says, how could this be, that's really odd
I guess I'll have to check my records, silly me, you know, I'm only
God . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The waves are perfect and the sun will always shine
But there's got to be more to death than surfing all the time
I know the signs of self-destruction so I try to stop each new kid
Don't be like me, forever young, forever stupid
Yeah, I found love here but I'll bet you'll find it there
Where they don't always make the same joke
Gee you make a heavenly pair
Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia
Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia
Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia
Alleluia


Rob, when you wrote Spearhead, I instantly thought of another Michael Franti song called "Water Pistol Man, but that's more message than narrative (but I had to post it because I like it so much):


must everything in life have political ramifications
even taking kids on vacation or having a simple operation
but my friend Billy told me that sometimes
it takes a grown man a long time to learn
just what it takes a child a night to learn
and my son proved his words

(Chorus)
Water pistol man full of ammunition
squirtin' at fires on a worldwide mission
but did you ever think to stop to squirt
the flowers in your own backyard

[ocelotrevs]

I am so old, I have no idea who Coheed and Cambria are.

You're missing out dude.

Coheed and Cambria (http://www.coheedandcambria.com) check them out.

[Jonathan Bogart]

I still remember quite clearly the moment I realized just what they threw off the Tallahatchee Bridge.
Bobbie Gentry swore up and down that it wasn't a baby, but she wouldn't say what it was.

[Grazzt]

A spaceman came travelling on his ship from afar,
'twas light years of time since his mission did start,
And over a village he halted his craft,
And it hung in the sky like a star, just like a star...

He followed a light and came down to a shed,
Where a mother and a child were lying there on a bed,
A bright light of silver shone round his head,
And he had the face of an angel, and they were afraid...

Then the stranger spoke, he said 'Do not fear,
I come from a planet a long way from here,
And I bring a message for mankind to hear',
And suddenly the sweetest music filled the air...

And it went la, la...
Peace and goodwill to all men, and love for the child...

This lovely music went trembling through the ground,
And many were wakened on hearing that sound,
And travellers on the road, the village they found,
By the light of that ship in the sky, which shone all round...

And just before dawn at the paling of the sky,
The stranger returned and said 'Now I must fly,
When two thousand years of your time has gone by,
This song will begin once again, to a baby's cry...'

And it went la la... This song will begin once again
to a baby's cry...
And it goes la la... Peace and goodwill to all men
and love for the child...

Oh the whole world is waiting, waiting to hear that song again,
There are thousands standing on the edge of the world,
And a star is moving somewhere, the time is nearly here,
This song will begin once again, to a baby's cry...

[cosmoboy]

Went down to Mexico on the Fourth of July
I got a tattoo of a moth and a butterfly
Had a little time to burn, a little money to spend
So I bought a switchblade for each of my friends
Pablo and Dan had a plan, said
"we gonna get rich."
Put the double cross
on a double crossin' narco snitch
Just a dirty little two-man job,
but it' a sure fire win.
And brother when we cut him down,
we gonna cut you in.

Yeah dumb and drunk as I was
You know I?d do it all again
Back when I bought a switchblade
for each of my friends

They were sharp enough to stab
another hole in the sky
Hard enough to make the proudest diamond sigh
Faster than the rockets on the Fourth of July
Strong and cruel enough
to make a statue of Mary cry

They said, amigo don't you worry
now we gonna disappear
Just for a couple of months
Now it's been almost a year
Yeah if you want that kind of money,
man you gotta stay brave
Federales are pullin' bodies out of shallow graves

Yeah dumb and drunk as I was
You know I'd do it all again
Back when I bought a switchblade
for each of my friends

They were sharp enough to stab
another hole in the sky
Hard enough to make the proudest diamond sigh
Faster than the rockets on the Fourth of July
Strong and cruel enough
to make a statue of Mary cry

Later in the fall, I got a call, "Boy won't you come down,
Maybe put a name with a few unlucky faces we found?"
Now no matter what I do, can't get my heart to mend
Somebody buried a switchblade in each of my friends

Yeah dumb and drunk as I was
You know I?d do it all again
Back when I bought a switchblade
for each of my friends

Dumb and drunk as we was I wish I had that time again
Before I buried a switchblade with each of my friends

They were sharp enough to stab another hole in the sky
Hard enough to make the proudest diamond sigh
Faster than the rockets on the Fourth of July
Strong and cruel enough
to make a statue of Mary cry


A nice little ditty from Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers, I also agree with the poster who mentioned "Pancho and Lefty" coincidently roger Clyne does a pretty good cover of that one too.

[howyadoin]

There are just too many Warren Zevon songs to mention that fit this category.Ditto for Steve Earle.

[Lame Duck !]

My obsessive Love of Lou Reed, John Cale and The Velvet Underground finally come into play !


Band:The Velvet Underground

Album: White Light / White Heat

Song: The Gift

Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit.
It was now mid-August which meant that he had been separated from Marsha for more than two months.
Two months, and all he had to show were three dog-eared letters and two very expensive long-distance phone calls.
True, when school had ended and she'd returned to Wisconsin and he to Locust, Pennsylvania she had sworn to maintain a certain fidelity.
She would date occasionally, but merely as amusement.
She would remain faithful. But lately Waldo had begun to worry.
He had trouble sleeping at night and when he did, he had horrible dreams.
He lay awake at night, tossing and turning underneath his printed quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes,
As he pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor and the smooth soothings of some Neanderthal,
Finally submitting to the final caresses of sexual oblivion. It was more than the human mind could bear.

Visions of Marsha's faithlessness haunted him.
Daytime fantasies of sexual abandon permeated his thoughts.
And the thing was, they wouldn't understand who she really was.
He, Waldo, alone, understood this.
He had intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche.
He had made her smile, and she needed him, and he wasn't there. (Awww.)
The idea came to him on the Thursday before the Mummers Parade was scheduled to appear.
He had just finished mowing and edging the Edelsons lawn for a dollar-fifty
And had checked the mailbox to see if there was at least a word from Marsha.
There was nothing more than a circular form the Amalgamated Aluminum Company of America inquiring into his awning needs.
At least they cared enough to write.

It was a New York company. You could go anywhere in
the mails. Then it struck him: he didn't have enough
money to go to Wisconsin in the accepted fashion,
true, but why not mail himself? It was absurdly
simple. He would ship himself parcel post special
delivery. The next day Waldo went to the supermarket
to purchase the necessary equipment. He bought
masking tape, a staple gun and a medium sized
cardboard box, just right for a person of his build.
He judged that with a minimum of jostling he could
ride quite comfortably. A few airholes, some water, a
selection of midnight snacks, and it would probably be
as good as going tourist.

By Friday afternoon, Waldo was set. He was thoroughly
packed and the post office had agreed to pick him up
at three o'clock. He'd marked the package "FRAGILE"
and as he sat curled up inside, resting in the foam
rubber cushioning he'd thoughtfully included, he tried
to picture the look of awe and happiness on Marsha's
face as she opened the door, saw the package, tipped
the deliverer, and then opened it to see her Waldo
finally there in person. She would kiss him, and then
maybe they could see a movie. If he'd only thought of
this before. Suddenly rough hands gripped his package
and he felt himself borne up. He landed with a thud
in a truck and then he was off.

Marsha Bronson had just finished setting her hair. It
had been a very rough weekend. She had to remember
not to drink like that. Bill had been nice about it
though. After it was over he'd said that he still
respected her and, after all, it was certainly the way
of nature and even though no, he didn't love her, he
did feel an affection for her. And after all, they
were grown adults. Oh, what Bill could teach Waldo --
but that seemed many years ago. Sheila Klein, her
very, very best friend walked in through the porch
screen door into the kitchen. "Oh God, it's
absolutely maudlin outside."
"Ugh, I know what you mean, I feel all icky." Marsha
tightened the belt on her cotton robe with the silk
outer edge. Sheila ran her finger over some salt
grains on the kitchen table, licked her finger and
made a face.
"I'm supposed to be taking these salt pills, but," she
wrinkled her nose, "they make me feel like throwing
up."
Marsha started to pat herself under the chin, an
exercise she'd seen on television. "God, don't even
talk about that." She got up from the table and went
to the sink where she picked up a bottle of pink and
blue vitamins. "Want one? Supposed to be better than
steak." And attempted to touch her knees. "I don't
think I'll ever touch a daiquiri again." She gave up
and sat down, this time nearer the small table that
supported the telephone. "Maybe Bill'll call," she
said to Sheila's glance.
Sheila nibbled on a cuticle. "After last night, I
thought maybe you'd be through with him."
"I know what you mean. My God, he was like an
octopus. Hands all over the place." She gestured,
raising her arms upward in defense. "The thing is
after a while, you get tired of fighting with him, you
know, and after all he didn't really do anything
Friday and Saturday so I kind of owed it to him, you
know what I mean." She started to scratch. Sheila
was giggling with her hand over her mouth. "I'll tell
you, I felt the same way, and even after a while," she
bent forward in a whisper, "I wanted to," and now she
was laughing very loudly.

It was at this point that Mr. Jameson of the Clarence
Darrow Post Office rang the door bell of the large
stucco colored frame house. When Marsha Bronson
opened the door, he helped her carry the package in.
He had his yellow and his green slips of paper signed
and left with a fifteen-cent tip that Marsha had
gotten out of her mothers small beige pocket book in
the den. "What do you think it is?" Sheila asked.
Marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back. S
he stared at the brown cardboard carton that sat in
the middle of the living room. "I don't know."

Inside the package Waldo quivered with excitement as
he listened to the muffled voices. Sheila ran her
fingernail over the masking tape that ran down the
center of the carton. "Why don't you look at the
return address and see who it is from?" Waldo felt
his heart beating. He could feel the vibrating
footsteps. It would be soon.

Marsha walked around the carton and read the
ink-scratched label. "Ugh, God, it's from Waldo!"
"That schmuck," said Sheila. Waldo trembled with
expectation. "Well, you might as well open it," said
Sheila. Both of them tried to lift the stapled flap.

"Ahh, shit," said Marsha groaning. "He must have
nailed it shut." They tugged at the flap again. "My
God, you need a power drill to get this thing opened."
They pulled again. "You can't get a grip!" They
both stood still, breathing heavily.
"Why don't you get the scissors," said Sheila. Marsha
ran into the kitchen, but all she could find was a
little sewing scissor. Then she remembered that her
father kept a collection of tools in the basement.
She ran downstairs and when she came back, she had a
large sheet-metal cutter in her hand.
"This is the best I could find." She was very out of
breath. "Here, you do it. I'm gonna die." She sank
into a large fluffy couch and exhaled noisily.
Sheila tried to make a slit between the masking tape
and the end of the cardboard, but the blade was too
big and there wasn't enough room. "Godamn this
thing!" she said feeling very exasperated. Then,
smiling, "I got an idea."
"What?" said Marsha.
"Just watch," said Sheila touching her finger to her
head.

Inside the package, Waldo was so transfixed with
excitement that he could barely breathe. His skin
felt prickly from the heat and he could feel his heart
beating in his throat. It would be soon. Sheila
stood quite upright and walked around to the other
side of the package. Then she sank down to her knees,
grasped the cutter by both handles, took a deep breath
and plunged the long blade through the middle of the
package, through the middle of the masking tape,
through the cardboard, through the cushioning and
(thud) right through the center of Waldo Jeffers head,
which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs
of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun.

[howyadoin]

How 'bout Jim Carroll's "People Who Died"?

Or in a similar vein, Zen Mafia's "Sweet Home California"?

[MacQuarrie]

But I think probably the undisputed champion of storytelling in music is Bob Dylan, at least until late 80s rap.
Ahem (http://harrychapin.com/music/)

A Better Place to be
by Harry Chapin

It was an early morning bar room,
And the place just opened up,
And the little man come in so fast and
Started at his cup.
And the broad who served the whisky
She was a big old friendly girl,
Who tried to fight her empty nights
By smilin' at the world.

And she said "Hey Bub, It's been awhile
Since you been around.
Where the hell you been hidin',
And why you look so down?"

But the little man just sat there like he'd never heard a sound.

The waitress she gave out with a cough,
And acting not the least put off,
She spoke once again.

She said, "I don't want to bother you,
Consider it's understood.
I know I'm not no beauty queen,
But I sure can listen good."

And the little man took his drink in his hand
And he raised it to his lips.
He took a couple of sips.
And he told the waitress this story.

"I am the midnight watchman down at Miller's Tool and Die,
And I watch the metal rusting, and I watch the time go by.
A week ago at the diner I stopped to get a bite,
And this here lovely lady she sat two seats from my right.
And Lord, Lord, Lord she was alright.

"Oh she was so damned beautiful that she'd warm a winter frost.
But she was long past lonely, and well nigh unto lost.
Now I'm not much of a mover, or a pick-em-up easy guy,
But I decided to glide on over, and give her one good try.
And Lord, Lord, Lord she was worth a try.

"Tongued-tied like a school boy, I stammered out some words.
But it did not really matter much, 'cause I don't think she heard.
She just looked clear on through me to a space back in my head,
And it shamed me into silence, as quietly she said,
'If you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me.
Cause I know I'm going nowhere, and anywhere's a better place to be.
Anywhere's a better place to be.'

"I drove her to my boarding house, and I took her up to my room.
And I went to turn on the only light to brighten up the gloom.
But she said, 'Please leave the light off, Oh I don't mind the dark.'
And as her clothes all tumbled 'round her, I could hear my heart.
The moonlight shown upon her as she lay back in my bed.
It was the kind of scene I only had imagined in my head.
I just could not believe it, to think that she was real.
And as I tried to tell her she said 'Shhh.. I know just how you feel.
And if you want to come here with me, then that's all right with me.
'Cause I've been oh so lonely, lovin' someone is a better way to be.
anywhere's a better way to be.'

"The morning come so swiftly but I held her in my arms.
But she slept like a baby, snug and safe from harm.
I did not want to share her with the world or break the mood,
So before she woke I went out and brought us both some food.

"I came back with my paper bag, to find out she was gone.
She'd left a six word letter saying 'It's time that I moved on.'"

The waitress took a bar rag, and she wiped it across her eyes.
And as she spoke her voice came out as something like a sigh.
She said "I wish that I was beautiful, or that you were halfway blind.
And I wish I weren't so dog-gone fat, I wish that you were mine.
And I wish that you'd come with me, when I leave for home.
For we both know all about loneliness, and livin' all alone."

And the little man,
Looked at the empty glass in his hand.
And he smiled a crooked grin,
He said, " I guess I'm out of gin.
And know we both have been so lonely.
And if you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me.
'Cause I know I'm goin' nowhere and anywhere's a better place to be."

[MacQuarrie]

Stranger with the Melodies
by Harry Chapin

It was my first night in that rooming house
In the last room down the hall
I heard a hoarse voice and an old guitar
Coming through the paper thin walls.
A crazy nonsense nursery rhyme
that did not mean a thing.
But for the first of what was to be a thousand times,
This is what I hear him sing. . .

Hold that D chord on the old guitar,
'Til I found the G.
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around to D.

I had to lay there listening
It seemed he was in the room.
This stranger with his melody,
Singing there in the gloom.
And he repeated it over and over again,
Such a soft and sinkin' sound.
It was kind of like a music box that was slowly winding down.

You see, he sang it, he hummed it,
Whistled it, and he strummed it,
He laughed it and he cried it,
He did everything but hide it.

And he sang . . .
Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around for me

So I lay there in that lumpy bed,
Countin' choruses instead of sheep,
'Til I banged on the wall and out I called,
"Hey bub I need some sleep."

A sudden void of silence,
Then I heard that hoarse voice say,
"It weren't so long ago boy,
They paid me to play "

I said, "It's kind of late for music, sir,
Two hours til it's daylight"
He answered, "I need my music most
In these dark hours of the night.
You see I've tried gettin' high on something son,
But it only brings me down.
Staying dry don't work out better boy,
'Cause my eyes get wet and I drown.
Won't you please let me continue
And I'll be in your debt.
You see I'm not singing to remember, son,
I'm just singing to forget"

And he sang .. .
Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around for me.

That's when I said,
"If I'm supposed to listen to you, sir,
Just one quick question then...
Why in the hell do you sing one song
Over and over again?"

And this is what he said. . .

He said, "I gave her the music, son,
She gave me the words,
And together we'd write the kind of songs
The angels must have heard.
Of course we'd fight like cats and dogs,
But life ain't no rosebud dream.
Still whatever we'd do everybody knew
We truly were a team.
I can't remember now if I done her wrong
Or if she done wrong to me
But all I know that when I let her go
That it did not set me free''

That's when I said, "You sound like what's-his-name"
He said, "That's who I am.
But you can't wrap a name around you boy,
'Cause it really don't mean a damn.
You see, a song don't have much meaning
When it dan't have nothing to say.
What she could do was magic son,
All I could do was play"

He started singing again.
That's when I drifted off
Maybe I dreamed what I heard
'Bout this stranger with his melody
Who'd gone and lost the words.

Hold that D chord on the old guitar
'Til I found the G
Drop it down to old E minor
'Til the A chord rolls back home around to D

[MacQuarrie]

Thirty Thousand Pounds of Bananas
by Harry Chapin

It was just after dark when the truck started down
the hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds (hit it Big John) of bananas.

He was a young driver,
just out on his second job.
And he was carrying the next day's pasty fruit
for everyone in that coal-scarred city,
where children play without despair
in backyard slag-piles and folks manage to eat each day
about thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, just about thirty thousand pounds (scream it again, John) .

He passed a sign that he should have seen,
saying "shift to low gear, or fifty dollar fine my friend."
He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breathed woman
who was waiting at the journey's end.
He started down the two mile drop,
the curving road that wound from the top of the hill.
He was pushing on through the shortening miles that ran down to the depot,
Just a few more miles to go,
then he'd go home and have her ease his long, cramped day away.
and the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

He was picking speed as the city spread its twinkling lights below him.
But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts of the night's delights went through him.
His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down.
But the pedal floored easy without a sound.
He said "Christ!"
It was funny how he had named the only man who could save him now.
He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide,
riding on his fear-hunched back
was every one of those yellow green
I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

He barely made the sweeping curve that led into the steepest grade.
And he missed a thankful passing bus at ninety miles an hour.
And he said "God, make it a dream!"
as he rode his last ride down.
And he said "God, make it a dream!"
as he rode his last ride down.

And he sideswiped nineteen neat parked cars,
clipped off thirteen telephone poles,
hit two houses, bruised eight trees,
and Blue-Crossed seven people.
It was then that he lost his head,
not to mention an arm or two before he stopped.
And he slid for four hundred yards
along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania.
All those thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

You know the man who told me about it on the bus,
as it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania,
he shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head,
and he said (and this is exactly what he said)
"Boy that sure must've been something.
Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas.

Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas.

[MacQuarrie]

Mercenaries
by Harry Chapin

It's a slow motion night
In the hot city lights
Past time when the good folks
Are snoring in bed
On a loose-jointed cruise
To recolor your blues
With illegal notions alive,
Alive in your head

You are back from some war
That you've been fighting for
Some old blueblood bastard
In a dark pinstripe suit
and the word from your loins
Has your mind in your groin
And your back pocket burning with blood
Blood money loot

So, you walk past the glow
Of the flicker-picture shows
Where the raincoat men wait
For a child to come by
And the women in doorways
Who have nothing to say
'Cause your money is talking
To the ones that you would try

She owns the block
With the dead pawnshop clock
She's the answer to dreams
That you pay to come true
She's got no heart of gold
But that's not what she's sold
She just sees herself doing what she
What she has to do

And she's all that you're hopin'
As her coat falls open
Give her bread, she leads you
To a bed on the floor
Where for ten million years
And through ten billion tears
The armies of bootmen have marched
Back from their wars

She's in that state of grace
Before time finds her face
With a mind of old wisdoms
And a body still young
And she tastes as sweet
As a child's chocolate treat
Before the butts and the whiskey
Had wasted the taste of your tongue

Play the music again
Of the grey-stubble men
That groaning blue symphony
Moans evermore
And you watch as she fakes it
And of course you just take it
She's better than others
You never paid your money for

You've used up your booty
The girl's done her duty
The turnstile has turned
And you learn you are done
You're back on the street
Joining fresh marching feet
You see more soldiers coming
And your girl chooses one

And the medic has brought
Shots for what you have caught
Your leave is all over
You're back on the line
And the joke in the trenches
Of the hot blooded wenches
And the next thing that you'll do
When they next give you the time

And you're back in your army
Back shedding red blood
And you dream of the girl
As you sleep in the mud
And you know you'd swap with her
If the deal could be made
'Cause you'd rather be working at love
Love as your trade

[MacQuarrie]

Last one for now...

Dance Band On the Titanic
by Harry Chapin

Dance band on the Titanic
singing "Nearer My God to Thee"
The iceberg's on the starboard bow
won't you dance with me?

Mama stood crying at the dockside
Saying "Please son, don't take this trip."
I said "Mama, sweet Mama, don't you worry none,
Even God couldn't sink this ship!"
Well the whistle blew and they turned the screws
It churned the water into foam
Destination, Sweet Salvation
Goodbye Home Sweet Home

I'm in the Dance band on the Titanic
singing "Nearer My God to Thee"
The iceberg's on the starboard bow
won't you dance with me?

There was a trombone and a saxophone,
The bass and drums were cooking on the bandstand
And I was strumming in the middle with this dude on the fiddle
We were three days out from land

Now the foghorn's jammed and moaning
Hear it groaning through the misty night,
I heard the lookout shout down,"There's icebergs around."
But still everything's all right.

I'm in the Dance band on the Titanic
singing "Nearer My God to Thee"
The iceberg's on the starboard bow
won't you dance with me?

They were burning all the flares for candles
In the banquet they were throwing in first class
And we were blowing waltzes in the ballroom
When the Universe went CRASH!

"There's no way that this could happen."
I could hear the old Captain curse
He ordered lifeboats away, that when I heard the
Chaplain say "women and children and Chaplains first."

Well they soon used up all of the lifeboats,
but there were a lot of us left on board
I heard the drummer saying,"Boys just keep playing,
Now were doing this gig for the Lord."

I'm in the Dance band on the Titanic
singing "Nearer My God to Thee"
The iceberg's on the starboard bow
won't you dance with me?

There's a wild eye boy in the radio shack
He's the last remaining guest
He was tapping in a Morse Code frenzy
Tapping "Please god, S.O.S.!"

Jesus Christ can walk on water, where a music man will drown
they say that Nero fiddled while Rome burned up
Well I'll be strumming as the ship goes down.

I'm in the Dance band on the Titanic
singing "Nearer My God to Thee"
The iceberg's on the starboard bow
won't you dance with me?

(fade into chorus of "Nearer My God to Thee" with sound effects of water in background)

[Shady Jack]

Well, I had two weeks of vacation time coming
After workin' all year down at Big Roy's Heating and Plumbing.
So one night, when my family and I were gathered round the dinner table, I said,
"Kids...If you could go anywhere in this great big world,
now Where'd you like to go to?"
They said, "Dad, We wanna see the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota."
They picked the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.

So the very next day we loaded up the car with potato skins and pickled weiners,
Crossword puzzles, Spiderman comics and mama's homemade rhubarb pie,
Pulled out of the driveway, and the neighbors, they all waved goodbye
And so began our three-day journey.
We picked up a guy holdin' a sign that said "Twine Ball or Bust,"
He smelled real bad, and he said his name was Bernie.

I put in a Slim Whitman tape
my wife put on a brand new hair net
The kids were in the back seat jumpin' up and down
yellin' "Are we there yet?"
And all of us were joined together in one common thought
As we rolled down the long and winding Interstate in our '53 DeSota
We're gonna see the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota!!
We're headin' for the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota!!

Oh, we couldn't wait to get there, so we drove straight through
for three whole days and nights
(Of course, we stopped for more pickled weiners now and then).
The scenery was just so pretty,
Boy, I wish the kids could've seen it
But you can't see out of the side of the car
because the windows are completely covered
with the decals from all the places where we've already been.

Like Elvis-a-Rama, the Tupperware Museum,
The Boll Weevil Monument, and Cranberry World,
The Shuffleboard Hall of Fame, Poodle Dog Rock,
And the Mecca of Albino Squirrels.
We've been to ghost towns, steam parks, wax museums,
And a place where you can drive through the middle of a tree.
Seen alligator farms and tarantula ranches,
But there's still one thing we've gotta see.

Well, we crossed the state line about 6:39
And we saw the sign that said, "Twine Ball Exit - fifty miles."
The kids were so happy, they started singing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" for the 27th time that day.
So we pulled off the road at the last chance gas station
Got a few more pickled weiners and a diet chocolate soda,
On our way to see the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.
We're gonna see the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.

Finally at 7:37 early Wednesday evening, as the sun was setting in the Minnesota sky,
Out in the distance, on the horizon it appeared to me
like a vision before my unbelieving eyes.
We parked the car and walked with awe-filled reverence toward that glorious huge, majestic sphere.
I was just so overwhelmed by its sheer immensity, I had to pop myself a beer.
Yes on these hallowed grounds, open 10 to 8 on weekdays,
in a little shrine under a makeshift pagoda,
There sits the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.
I tell you, it's the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.

Ohhh, what on Earth would make a man decide to do that kind of thing?
Ohhh, windin' up twenty-one thousand, one hundred forty pounds of string!
What was he tryin' to prove?
Who was he tryin' to impress?
Why did he build it? How did he do it?
It's anybody's guess.
Where did he get the twine? What was goin' through his mind?
Did it just seem like a good idea at the time?

Well we walked up beside it and I warned the kids,
"Now you better not touch it, those ropes are there for a reason."
I said, "Maybe if you're good, I'll tie it to the back of our car, and we can take it home."
But I was only teasin'.
Then we went to the gift shop and stood in line
bought a souvenir miniature ball of twine,
Some window decals, and anything else they'd sell us.
And I bought a couple postcards: "Greetings from the Twine Ball, wish you were here."
Won't the folks back home be jealous.

I gave our camera to Bernie and we stood by the ball,
And we all gathered around and said, "Cheese."
Then Bernie ran away with my brand new Instamatic,
But at least we've got our memories.

So we all just stared at the ball for awhile
And my eyes got moist, but I said with a smile,
"Kids, this here's what America's all about."
Then I started feelin' kinda gooey inside,
And I fell on my knees and I cried and cried.
And that's when those security guards threw us out.
You know, I bet if we unravelled that sucker, it'd roll all the way down to Fargo, North Dakota.
'Cause it's the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.
I'm talkin' 'bout the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.

We stayed that night at the Twine Ball Inn
In the morning we were on our way home again
But we really didn't wanna leave, that was perfectly clear.
I said, "Folks, I can tell you're all sad to go"
Then I winked my eye and I said, "You know,
I got a funny kinda feeling we'll be coming back again next year."
'Cause I've been all around this great big world and I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather go to
Than the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.
I said the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota!!!
Minnesota!!
Minnesota!!!
Minnesota!!!!!

-"Weird Al" Yankovic

[MacQuarrie]

Well, it's no Albuquerque, but that's pretty good.

[MacQuarrie]

Burning Herself
by Harry Chapin

She was crazy (she was beautiful)
I guess she had to be.
I was angry (you were blind)
because I could not see,
except for what her cigarettes had done to her skin.
I should have known the outside
would reveal what was within.

She was burning herself,
and her hair was filled with ashes.
She was burning herself,
and her life became a flame.
She was burning herself,
and the flame became her passion.
She was burning herself,
and her passion,
her passion was her pain.

She was trusting (you could have saved her too)
all hope had passed for her.
I was lusting (and she gave to you)
that's all I asked for her.
The marks upon her body
and the marks upon her mind,
I know I could have erased them
if I'd only taken the time.

But she was burning herself,
and her hair was filled with ashes.
She was burning herself,
and her life became a flame.
She was burning herself,
and the flame became her passion.
She was burning herself,
and her passion,
her passion was her pain.

I never saw her do it,
I only saw the scars.
I never could imagine
what would make her go that far.

I wondered, was she driven
by a desperate need to feel,
to find out she was living,
to discover life was real?

Or was it that the pain
slicing through her like a knife
was easier to take
than the emptiness of life?

Had a strange sense of drama
caught her inside a role?
or was she trying to cauterize
the chancres on her soul?

I don't know
I don't know
I don't know!

But she was burning herself,
and her hair was filled with ashes.
She was burning herself,
and her life became a flame.
She was burning herself,
and the flame became her passion.
She was burning herself,
and her passion,
her passion was her pain.

Her passion was her pain!

[Expletive Deleted]

Pretty much anything by the Decemberists.

For example, "A Cautionary Song":

There's a place your mother goes when everybody else is soundly sleeping
Through the lights of beacon street
And if you listen you can hear her weeping,
She's weeping, cause the gentlemen are calling
And the snow is softly falling on her petticoats.
And she's standing in the harbour
And she's waiting for the sailors in the jolly boat.
See how they approach

With dirty hands and trousers torn they grapple 'til she's safe within their keeping
A gag is placed between her lips to keep her sorry tongue from any speaking, or screaming
And they row her out to packets where the sailor's sorry racket calls for maidenhead
And she's scarce above the gunwales when her clothes fall to a bundle and she's laid in bed on the upper deck

And so she goes from ship to ship, her ankles clasped, her arms so rudely pinioned
'Til at last she's satisfied the lost of the marina's teeming minions, and their opinions

And they tell her not to say a thing to cousin, kindred, kith or kin or she'll end up dead
And they throw her thirty dollars and return her to the harbour where she goes to bed, and this is how your fed

So be kind to your mother, though she may seem an awful bother, and the next time she tries to feed you collard greens,
Remember what she does when you're asleep

And "The Mariner's Revenge Song":

We are two mariners
Our ships' sole survivors
In this belly of a whale

Its ribs are ceiling beams
Its guts are carpeting
I guess we have some time to kill

You may not remember me
I was a child of three
And you, a lad of eighteen

But I remember you
And I will relate to you
How our histories interweave

At the time you were
A rake and a roustabout
Spending all your money
On the whores and hounds
Oh Ohhhhh

You had a charming air
All cheap and debonair
My widowed mother found so sweet

And so she took you in
Her sheets still warm with him
Now filled with filth and foul disease

As time wore on you proved
A debt-ridden drunken mess
Leaving my mother
A poor consumptive wretch
Oh Ohhhhh

And then you disappeared
Your gambling arrears
The only thing you left behind

And then the magistrate
Reclaimed our small estate
And my poor mother lost her mind

Then one day, in spring
My dear sweet mother died
But before she did
I took her hand as she, dying, cried:
Oh Ohhhhh

"Find him, bind him
Tie him to a pole and break
His fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole until he
Wakes up naked
Clawing at the ceiling
Of his grave
*sigh*"

It took me fifteen years
To swallow all my tears
Among the urchins in the street

Until a priory
Took pity and hired me
To keep their vestry nice and neat

But never once in the employ
Of these holy men
Did I ever, once, turn my mind
From the thought of revenge
Oh Ohhhhh

One night I overheard
The prior exchanging words
With a penitent whaler from the sea

The captain of his ship
Who matched you toe to tip
Was known for a wanton cruelty

The following day
I shipped to sea
With a privateer

And in the whistle
Of the wind
I could almost hear...
Oh Ohhhhh

"Find him, bind him
Tie him to a pole and break
His fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole until he
Wakes up naked
Clawing at the ceiling
Of his grave

"There is one thing I must say to you
As you sail across the sea
Always, your mother will watch over you
As you avenge this wicked deed"

[haunting, sailor-esque musical interlude lead by mandolin, accordion and tuba]

And then that fateful night
We had you in our sight
After twenty months at sea

Your starboard flank abeam
I was getting my muskets clean
When came this rumbling from beneath

The ocean shook
The sky went black
And the captain quailed

And before us grew
The angry jaws
Of a giant whale

[instrumental noise]
oh ohhhhhhhhhh
[screaming]
ohhhhh
[screaming]

Don't know how I survived
The crew all was chewed alive
I must have slipped between his teeth

But, oh! What providence!
What divine intelligence!
That you should survive
As well as me

It gives my heart
Great joy
To see your eyes fill with fear

So lean in close
And I will whisper
The last words you'll hear
Ohh Ohhhhh

[MacQuarrie]

Sniper
by Harry Chapin

It is an early Monday morning.
The sun is becoming bright on the land.
No one is watching as he comes a walking.
Two bulky suitcases hang from his hands.

He heads towards the tower that stands in the campus.
He goes through the door, he starts up the stairs.
The sound of his footsteps, the sound of his breathing,
The sound of the silence when no one was there.

"I didn't really know him.
He was kind of strange.
Always sort of sat there.
He never seemed to change."

He reached the catwalk, he put down his burden.
The four-sided clock began to chime.
Seven AM, the day is beginning.
So much to do and so little time.

He looks at the city where no one had known him.
He looks at the sky where no one looks down.
He looks at his life and what it has shown him.
He looks for his shadow, it cannot be found.

"He was such a moody child,
very hard to touch.
Even as a baby
he never smiled too much."

"You bug me," she said.
"You're ugly," she said.
"Please hug me," I said.
But she just sat there
With the same flat stare
That she saves for me alone
When I'm home.
When I'm home.
Take me home.

He laid out the rifles, he loaded the shotgun,
He stacked up the cartridges along the wall.
He knew he would need them for his conversation.
If it went as it he planned, then he might use them all.

He said "Listen, you people! I've got a question
You won't pay attention but I'll ask anyhow.
I've found a way that will get me an answer.
Been waiting to ask you 'till now.
Right now !"

Am I?
I am a lover whose never been kissed.
Am I?
I am a fighter whose not made a fist.
Am I?
If I'm alive then there's so much I've missed.
How do I know I exist ?
Are you listening to me ?
Are you listening to me ?
Am I?

The first words he spoke took the town by surprise.
One got Mrs. Gibbons above her right eye.
It blew her through the window, wedged her against the door.
Reality poured from her face, staining the floor.

"He was kind of creepy,
Sort of a dunce.
I met him at the corner bar.
I only dated the poor boy once,
That's all. Just once, that was all."

Bill Whedon was questioned as stepped from his car.
Tom Scott ran across the street but he never got that far.
The police were there in minutes, they set up baricades.
He spoke right on over them in a half-mile circle.
In a dumbstruck city his pointed questions were sprayed.

He knocked over Danny Tyson as he ran towards the noise.
Just about then the answers started coming, sweet, sweet joy.
Thudding in the clock face, whining off the walls,
Reaching up to where he sat there, answering calls.

Thirty-seven people got his message so far.
Yes, he was reaching them right were they are.

They set up an assault team. They asked for volunteers.
They had to go and get him, that much was clear.
And the word spread about him on the radio and TV.
In appropriately sober tone they asked "Who can it be ?"

"He was a very dull boy,
Very taciturn.
Not much of a joiner,
he did not want to learn."

They're coming to get me,
they don't want to let me
Stay in the bright light too long.
It's getting on noon now,
it's going to be soon now.
But oh, what a wonderful song!

Mama, won't you nurse me ?
Rain me down the sweet milk of your kindness.
Mama, it's getting worse for me.
Won't you please make me warm and mindless ?

Mama, yes you have cursed me.
I never will forgive you for your blindness.
I hate you!

The wires are all humming for me.
And I can hear them coming for me.
Soon they'll be here, but there's nothing to fear.
Not any more though they've blasted the door.

As the 'copter dropped the gas he shouted " Who cares?"
They could hear him laughing as they started up the stairs.
As they stormed out on the catwalk, blinking at the sun,
With their final fusillade his answer had come.

Am I?
There is no way that you can hide me.
Am I?
Though you have put your fire inside me.
Am I?
You've given me my answer, can't you see ?

I was!
I am!
and now
I Will Be
I WILL BE!

[MacQuarrie]

The Rock
by Harry Chapin

"The rock is gonna fall on us!"
he woke with a start
And he ran to his mother,
the fear dark in his heart
And he told her of the vision
that he was sure he'd seen
She said "Go back to sleep, son,
you're having a bad dream!"

Silly child--
Everybody knows the rock leans over the town
Everybody knows that it won't tumble to the ground
Remember Chicken Little said the sky was falling down
Well nothing ever came of that, the world still whirls around

"The rock is gonna fall on us!"
he stood and told the class
The professor put his chalk down
and peered out through his glasses
But he went on and said
"I've seen it, high up on the hill
If it doesn't fall this year then very soon it will!"

Crazy boy--
Everybody knows the rock leans over the town
Everybody knows that it won't tumble to the ground
We've more important studies than your fantasies and fears
You know that rock's been perched up there for a hundred thousand years

"The rock is gonna fall on us!"
He told the magistrates
"I believe that we can stop it
but the time is getting late
You see I've done all the research
my plans are all complete."
He was showing them contingencies
when they showed him to the street

Just a madman--
Everybody knows the rock leans over the town
Everybody knows that it won't tumble to the ground
Everybody knows of those who say the end is near
Everybody knows that life goes on as usual round here

He went up on the mountain
beside the giant stone
They knew he was insane
so they left him alone
He'd given up enlisting help
for there was no one else
He spent his days devising ways
to stop the rock himself

One night while he was working
building braces on the ledge
The ground began to rumble
the rock trembled on the edge

"The rock is gonna fall on us!
Run or you'll all be crushed!"
And indeed the rock was moving,
crumbling all to dust
He ran under it with one last hope
that he could add a prop
And as he disappeared
the rock came to a stop

The people ran into the street
but by then all was still
The rock seemed where it always was
or where it always will be
When someone asked where he had gone
they said "Oh he was daft!
Who cares about that crazy fool?"
And then they'd start to laugh

But high up on the mountain
When the wind is hitting it
If you're watching very closely...
The rock slips a little bit.

[MacQuarrie]

Woman Child
by Harry Chapin

Dripping streetlights
darkened buildings
wandering
head hung down low
Where will she go?

Woman child, your eyes are wild
The rain runs down your hair
Woman child, mercy mild
What will you tell your teddy bear?

I turned you on my solid body
my electric Gibson guitar
My clever fingers searched
and found exactly where you are
You went too far

I was an early morning phone call
What news have I received?
A halting voice is telling me
what we have both conceived
asking how the dilemma
how can it be releived?

"I will give you money, Honey
I'll set up a time
You got to go there on your own babe,
'cause I don't know that it's mine."

Oh woman child
Mama's little angel's been defiled

Took a taxi to the clinic
where they do the modern thing
The white coat doctor
laid her out, said
"You won't feel a thing
You get the sweet salvation
that a little old knife can bring.
You don't have to worry 'bout no offspring.
That's that.
Go Home and take a nap.
It's just a two hundred dollar mishap.
It don't mean a thing.
It's all over now
you can tell your singer to sing."

Woman child, your eyes are wild
The rain runs down your hair
Woman child, mercy mild
What will you tell your teddy bear?

[Buzz Dixon]

Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town
Kenny Rogers

You've painted up your lips
And rolled and curled your tinted hair
Ruby are you contemplating going out somewhere
The shadow on the wall tells me the sun is going down
Oh Ruby, don't take your love to town

It wasn't me that started that old crazy Asian war
But I was proud to go and do my patriotic chore
And yes, it's true that I'm not the man I used to be
Oh, Ruby... I still need some company

It's hard to love a man whose legs are bent and paralysed
And the wants and the needs of a woman your age, Ruby I realize,
But it won't be long I've heard them say until I not around
Oh Ruby, don't take your love to town

She's leaving now 'cause I just heard the slamming of the door
The way I know I've heard it slam some 1oo times before
And if I could move I'd get my gun and put her in the ground
Oh Ruby, don't take your love to town

Oh Ruby.. For God's sake -- turn around!

[Buzz Dixon]

Harper Valley P.T.A.
Tom T. Hall, writer

I want to tell you all a story 'bout a Harper Valley widowed wife
Who had a teenage daughter who attended Harper Valley Junior High
Well her daughter came home one afternoon and didn't even stop to play
She said, "Mom, I got a note here from the Harper Valley P.T.A."

The note said, "Mrs. Johnson, you're wearing your dresses way too high
It's reported you've been drinking and a-runnin' 'round with men and going wild
And we don't believe you ought to be bringing up your little girl this way"
It was signed by the secretary, Harper Valley P.T.A.

Well, it happened that the P.T.A. was gonna meet that very afternoon
They were sure surprised when Mrs. Johnson wore her mini-skirt into the room
And as she walked up to the blackboard, I still recall the words she had to say
She said, "I'd like to address this meeting of the Harper Valley P.T.A."

Well, there's Bobby Taylor sittin' there and seven times he's asked me for a date
Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lot of ice whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker, can you tell us why your secretary had to leave this town?
And shouldn't widow Jones be told to keep her window shades all pulled completely down?

Well, Mr. Harper couldn't be here 'cause he stayed too long at Kelly's Bar again
And if you smell Shirley Thompson's breath, you'll find she's had a little nip of gin
Then you have the nerve to tell me you think that as a mother I'm not fit
Well, this is just a little Peyton Place and you're all Harper Valley hypocrites

No I wouldn't put you on because it really did, it happened just this way
The day my Mama socked it to the Harper Valley P.T.A.
The day my Mama socked it to the Harper Valley P.T.A.

[Buzz Dixon]

The Mississippi Squirrel Revival
C.W. Kalb, Jr. and Carlene Kalb, writers

Well, when I was a kid I'd take a trip every summer down the Mississippi
To visit my granny in her antebellum world
I'd run barefooted all day long climbin' trees free as a song
And one day I happened to catch myself a squirrel
Well, I stuffed him down in an old shoe box, punched a couple of holes in the top
And when Sunday came I snuck him into Church
I was sittin' way back in the very last pew showin' him to my good buddy Hugh
When that squirrel got loose and went totally berserk
Well, what happened next is hard to tell
Some thought it was heaven others thought it was hell
But the fact that something was among us was plain to see
As the choir sang "I Surrender All" the squirrel ran up Harv Newlan's coveralls
Harv leaped to his feet and said, "Somethin's got a hold on me", Yeow!

Chorus
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In the sleepy little town of Pascagoula
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin' pews and shoutin' Hallelujah!

Well, Harv hit the aisles dancin' and screamin'
Some thought he had religion others thought he had a demon
And Harv thought he had a weed eater loose in his Fruit-Of-The-Looms
He fell to his knees to plead and beg and the squirrel ran out of his britches leg
Unobserved to the other side of the room
All the way down to the amen pew where sat Sister Bertha better-than-you
Who'd been watchin' all the commotion with sadistic glee
But you should've seen the look in her eyes
When that squirrel jumped her garters and crossed her thighs
She jumped to her feet and said "Lord have mercy on me"
As the squirrel made laps inside her dress
She began to cry and then to confess to sins that would make a sailor blush with shame
She told of gossip and church dissension but the thing that got the most attention
Was when she talked about her love life and then she started naming names

Chorus
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They were jumpin' pews and shoutin' Hallelujah!

Well seven deacons and the pastor got saved,
Twenty-five thousand dollars was raised and fifty volunteered
For missions in the Congo on the spot
Even without an invitation there were at least five hundred rededications
And we all got baptized whether we needed it or not
Now you've heard the bible story I guess
How he parted the waters for Moses to pass
Oh the miracles God has wrought in this old world
But the one I'll remember 'til my dyin' day
Is how he put that Church back on the narrow way
With a half crazed Mississippi squirrel

Chorus
The day the squirrel went berserk
In the First Self-Righteous Church
In the sleepy little town of Pascagoula
It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival
They was jumpin' pews and shoutin' Hallelujah!

[Buzz Dixon]

BALLAD OF THUNDER ROAD
Robert Mitchum, writer

Let me tell the story, I can tell it all
About the mountain boy who ran illegal alcohol
His daddy made the whiskey, son, he drove the load
When his engine roared, they called the highway Thunder Road.

Sometimes into Ashville, sometimes Memphis town
The revenoors chased him but they couldn’t run him down
Each time they thought they had him, his engine would explode
He'd go by like they were standin’ still on Thunder Road.

(CHORUS)
And there was thunder, thunder over Thunder Road
Thunder was his engine, and white lightning was his load
There was moonshine, moonshine to quench the Devil’s thirst
The law they swore they'd get him, but the Devil got him first.

On the first of April, nineteen fifty-four
A Federal man sent word he’d better make his run no more
He said two hundred agents were coverin’ the state
Whichever road he tried to take, they’d get him sure as fate.

Son, his Daddy told him, make this run your last
The tank is filled with hundred-proof, you’re all tuned up and gassed
Now, don’t take any chances, if you can’t get through
I’d rather have you back again than all that mountain dew.

(CHORUS)

Roarin’ out of Harlan, revvin’ up his mill
He shot the gap at Cumberland, and screamed by Maynordsville
With T-men on his taillights, roadblocks up ahead
The mountain boy took roads that even Angels feared to tred.

Blazing right through Knoxville, out on Kingston Pike,
Then right outside of Bearden, they made the fatal strike.
He left the road at 90; that’s all there is to say.
The devil got the moonshine and the mountain boy that day.

[LordEd1976]

Jolly Mon by Jimmy Buffet
Tropical fairy tale about a beloved minstrel. He gets hijacked by pirates and thrown into the water. A dolphin saves him and the two swim up to the stars.

Love is Stronger than Justice by Sting
Cowboy tale about seven brothers who rescue a town from bandits. The brothers are promised seven brides but in the end there was only one bride available. One of the brothers kills his siblings and then rides off into the sunset with his new bride.

Lying Eyes by the Eagles
Woman has an affair.

Escape (the Pina Colada song) by Rupert Holmes
A man feels like his mariage is losing its spark so he thinks about having an affair. he sees an ad in the paper and responds. When he goes to meet this perfect woman he discovers its his wife. The two realize what they have in common and the marriage is saved.

They Dance Alone by Sting
True story about women who protested during the reign of Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet. In response to disappearances of those who spoke out against the government, women pinned pictures of their missing fathers, sons, brothers, etc. and started dancing as if they were dancing with the missing person.

[LiNo]

Scenes from an Italian restaurant - Billy Joel


...what?

[MacQuarrie]

Scenes from an Italian restaurant - Billy Joel


...what?
Cold Spring Harbor is a better album. So is Streetlife Serenade. But for story songs, you need Captain Jack.

[Adam Crocker]

The Clash told great stories (they even updated "Stagger Lee" for the streets of Kingston):

Actually it was early Jamaican reggae group the Rulers that came up with "Wrong 'Em Boyo." I've even heard the original (though the Clash's version is far superior).

[shadowraven]

Pretty much anything by the Decemberists.

"The Mariner's Revenge Song":

Hey, you Stole mine! ;)


Every time I hear the Mariner's Revenge song I can't help but picture the entire thing playing out in my head. The lyrics themselves don't do the song justice without the instrumentals backing them up though. There's a good minute at the end of the song where the vocals have stopped and you can almost feel the ensuing fight to the death through the instrumentals alone. I love that song.

And I agree that the Decemberists are a great story telling band.

[Jonathan Bogart]

Actually it was early Jamaican reggae group the Rulers that came up with "Wrong 'Em Boyo." I've even heard the original (though the Clash's version is far superior).
Damn it, I knew that! Or had heard it. Or dreamed about it. Or something.

Thank God Crocker's always around to keep me honest.

[berk]

Escape (the Pina Colada song) by Rupert Holmes
A man feels like his mariage is losing its spark so he thinks about having an affair. he sees an ad in the paper and responds. When he goes to meet this perfect woman he discovers its his wife. The two realize what they have in common and the marriage is saved.Yeah, but ... this has to be one of the most annoying songs ever recorded. No, I won't dignify it with the word 'song'; the most annoying DITTY ever recorded.

[kmeyers]

Tenacious D, City Hall.

and several other tunes from their album.

[LordEd1976]

Yeah, but ... this has to be one of the most annoying songs ever recorded. No, I won't dignify it with the word 'song'; the most annoying DITTY ever recorded.

the rules of the thread say the song has to tell a vivid story, not impress your picky tastes. there are songs that have been listed here that I don't care for but we're not here for my opinion. So if you don't mind, I'm going to stay on-topic.

That said another song that can go on the list is Never Coming Home by Sting. In it, a woman leaves her husband.

[The Mirrorball Man]

That said another song that can go on the list is Never Coming Home by Sting. In it, a woman leaves her husband.
Good choice. What's interesting about this song is that the story is narrated alternatively in the first, second and third persons. It's actually pretty clever. Source (http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sting/nevercominghome.html)

[Shady Jack]

Sam Stone
John Prine

Sam Stone came home,
To his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knee.
But the morphine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a Purple Heart, and a monkey on his back.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And Sammy took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold rolled through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes...

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
Well, he played his last request
While the room smelled just like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
But life had lost its fun
And there was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the G. I. Bill
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

[Shady Jack]

Merchants Lunch
Red Clay Ramblers

I took a walk (he was walkin' up and down Broadway)
I was hungry (had an eye out for a swell cafe)
I was searchin' (he was soundin' for a bite to munch)
I found a spot (he took a table at the Merchants Lunch)
Oh the Merchants Lunch, it was an ocean of gloom
It looked like half past midnight in the afternoon

Down by the bar (a rat-faced manager was pouring suds)
For the boys (Trailways cowboys in their Good Will duds)
And the girls (a pride of peddle-pushin' pinball queens)
Chewin' gum (in sweaty combat at the Wizard machines)
But the queen of them all, lookin' big as a fort
Was Broadway Brenda and her derelict court

I ordered a blue plate special and peered out through the room
Just to see what kind of citizens inhabited this gloom
And the hapless visages I saw were innocent of cheer
Though mirthless laughter filled the air inspired by wine and beer

From these helpless accidents of Fortune's careless aim
Broadway Brenda rose upon her queen-sized six foot frame
I looked away to shun her eyes but I knew it was too late
A hand fell on my shoulder as my gaze fell on my plate

I looked her up and over (and she did the same to me)
Her teeth were green (as green as garden peas)
She shaped her hair (with dishpan fingertips)
An earthquake of excitement (shook her Krakatoan hips)
Her hands went to her bosom, a hush fell on the crew
An acre of Brenda lay exposed to view

These fevered words she whispered as I gazed upon the scene:
"It's the custom here at Merchants Lunch to entertain the queen"
I grabbed my hat (and in an instant he was on his feet)
I was sober as a judge down at the county seat
I kept my diesel up to 80 way past Baton Rouge
Made it back to Beaumont for the Evening News

I own a wide-load rig (he pays thousands in tax! He's gonna keep it it Texas)-- I ain't leavin' for snacks
(He's a driving fool) the interstate belongs to me
But I'm never going back (to the state of Tennessee)
Oh the Merchants Lunch, it was an ocean of gloom
It looked like half past midnight in the afternoon.

[berk]

the rules of the thread say the song has to tell a vivid story, not impress your picky tastes. there are songs that have been listed here that I don't care for but we're not here for my opinion.I know; I just wanted to say the word "ditty".

[howyadoin]

A fight over the artistic validity of Rupert Holmes?

This has to be a first, and I don't just mean at CBR.

[LordEd1976]

A fight over the artistic validity of Rupert Holmes?

This has to be a first, and I don't just mean at CBR.

There's no fight. I just wanted to stay on topic so the thread doesn't degenerate into "Rupert Holmes suck" and "I wanna shoot my radio every time I hear the Pina Colada Song." Its not that I'm head priest of the church of Rupert Holmes, I just hate it when things like this veer off course.

And thats all I'm gonna say about that.

[berk]

There's no fight. I just wanted to stay on topic so the thread doesn't degenerate into "Rupert Holmes suck" and "I wanna shoot my radio every time I hear the Pina Colada Song." Its not that I'm head priest of the church of Rupert Holmes, I just hate it when things like this veer off course.

And thats all I'm gonna say about that.Sorry, LordEd - I should have used a smiley in the first post, which was supposed to be a joke - not in that I don't hate that song - I do - but in that my dislike of it wasn't meant to be taken seriously as a reason why someone shouldn't suggest it as one that tells a story. Plus, I was probably remembering The Onion's Irving Berlin headline "Irving Beriln composes 1000th Annoying Ditty" or something like that.

[howyadoin]

I just hate it when things like this veer off course.It's a casual conversation on a message board. So what if there are tangents?

[BcAugust]

Hmm, anyone else ever hear Blackmore's Night? Almost all of their's I've heard. Especially the Fires at Midnight album.

[David O Burcham]

Bed of Rose's


She was called a scarlet woman by the people
Who would go to church but left me in the streets
With no parents of my own I never had a home
And a eighteen year old boy has got to eat
She found me outside one Sunday morning
Begging money from a man I didn't know
She took me in and wiped away my childhood
A woman of the streets this lady Rose

This bed of Rose's that I lay on where I was taught to be a man
This bed of Rose's where I'm livin' is the only kind of life I'll understand

She was a handsome woman just thirty-five who was spoken to in town by very few
She managed a late evening business like most of the town wished they could do
I learned all the things that a man should know
From a woman not approved of I suppose
She died knowing someone really loved her from life's bramble bush I picked a rose

[Ktulu]

Iced Earth - Dante's Inferno

Based on the poem of the same name, so it obviously has a story to it. It's about a journey through hell.




And just about anything from Iron Maiden. Maiden lyrics will make you smarter.

[Ontir]

Cat's in the Cradle

It's a difficult song, because too many people make time for everything, except each other, and at the end, the father seems not to have gotten the point, as he's oddly proud.

[Jessica Drew]

Elvis Presley - "In the Ghetto" - completely mangled--with FUN DANCE STEPS--in last week's finale of American Idol.

Willie Nelson/Ray Charles - "Seven Spanish Angels" - Willie and Ray go down a shootin'.

Porter Waggoner - "The Cold Hard Facts of Life" - murder ballad, and Waggoner makes it all the more horrifying by his straight, unaffected rendering of the vocal.

Elvis Costello - "Psycho" - live version - murder ballad, and a very disturbing one at that, featuring some of Costello's best, most nuanced vocals.

Isaac Hayes - "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" - cover of the Glen Campbell recording, but this one clocks in at 6:45!!!! A great summer song, but it's gotta be HOT when you play it, and you have to be driving, and the music has to be LOUD so you can hear Chef mumbling through the first three minutes of spoken-word narrative. Gotta focus on this one, but it's rewarding.

Bob Dylan - "House of the Rising Sun" - He's got a ton of 'em, but this one's my favorite of his story songs. Stark, powerful and gripping, Dylan sings the song from the prostitute's POV; the perfect companion piece to the aforementioned Hayes' song.

Tom T. Hall - "The Homecoming" - Thomas Wolfe's old axiom recorded in mono

Gene Pitney - "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence" - written for the movie, but not used in the movie 'cause Ford didn't think it'd fit. Shame. Great fiddle work, but the song belongs to Pitney and the drummer's brush & snare work.

Bruce Springsteen - "American Skin (41 Shots)" - Ripped from the headlines (from just a few years ago), this song recounts/references the tragic account of the NYPD's killing of Amadou Diallo.

The Geto Boys - "My Mind's Playing Tricks on Me" - harrowing first-person (or, first-people, considering more than one MC takes the mike in this one) account of a night hopped up on heavy drugs.

James McMurtry - "Choctaw Bingo" - one hell of a comedic romp through the backroads of rural America.

John Prine - "Jesus: The Missing Years" - not necessarily my favorite Prine song, but a great one, and a funny one, and a great alternative to The DaVinci Code.

----------------------

Someone mentioned Ice Cube's "It Was a Good Day," and I'd like to add, that I laughed one of the hardest and longest laughs of my life the first time I heard, years ago, Ice Cube boasting, "Messed around and shot a triple-double." Ice Cube? Triple-Double? Ice Cube was BIG in those days in more than one way.





-

[Kaizoku]

2pac-Brenda got a baby pac talks about a pregnant 12 year old girl who has lived a horrible life.that song is just heart breaking,and brutally realistic.if it doesn't move you than your not human.it also doesn't end hapily ever after either.

Ditto, First thing that came to mind. An amazing song.

[Michael P]

You and I in a little toy shop
Buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got.
Set them free at the break of dawn
'Til one by one, they were gone.
Back at base, bugs in the software
Flash the message, Something's out there.
Floating in the summer sky.
99 red balloons go by.

99 red balloons.
floating in the summer sky.
Panic bells, it's red alert.
There's something here from somewhere else.
The war machine springs to life.
Opens up one eager eye.
Focusing it on the sky.
Where 99 red balloons go by.

99 Decision Street.
99 ministers meet.
To worry, worry, super-scurry.
Call the troops out in a hurry.
This is what we've waited for.
This is it boys, this is war.
The president is on the line
As 99 red balloons go by.

99 Knights of the air
Ride super-high-tech jet fighters
Everyone's a superhero.
Everyone's a Captain Kirk.
With orders to identify.
To clarify and classify.
Scramble in the summer sky.
As 99 red balloons go by.

99 dreams I have had.
In every one a red balloon.
It's all over and I'm standing pretty.
In this dust that was a city.
If I could find a souvenier.
Just to prove the world was here.
And here is a red balloon
I think of you and let it go.

[Jessica Drew]

I love that song! I think the German version's vocals sound much smoother, but either version is great. The song's jaunty, infectiousness, uptempo music makes a (purposeful, I believe) discordant juxtaposition with the song's trenchant and portentous (and harrowing at the time) lyrics, but I think it's a very successful merger.

I love the couplet, "If I could find a souvenier/Just to prove this world was here;" seems like something William Blake could have written.

[howyadoin]

I love the couplet, "If I could find a souvenier/Just to prove this world was here;" seems like something William Blake could have written.Is there more than one William Blake?

[Grazzt]

The best story about love ever: Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Lights. The story about a guy who rushes into marriage cause he wants to get laid, only to discover it sucks.

BOY:
I remember every little thing
As if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake
And there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl
Looking any better than you did
And all the kids at school
They were wishing they were me that night
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the metal
on the edge of a knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light

GIRL:
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed
Ain't no doubt about it
Baby got to go and shout it
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed

BOY:
Cause we were barely seventeen
And we were barely dressed
Baby doncha hear my heart
You got it drowning out the radio
I've been waiting so long
For you to come along and have some fun
And I gotta let ya know
No you're never gonna regret it
So open up your eyes I got a big surprise
It'll feel all right
Well I wanna make your motor run
And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the metal
on the edge of a knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
Paradise by the dashboard light
You got to do what you can
And let Mother Nature do the rest
Ain't no doubt about it
We were doubly blessed
Cause we were barely seventeen
and we were barely...
We're gonna go all the way tonight
gonna go all the way tonight
We're gonna go all the way tonight
gonna go all the way tonight tonight
We're gonna go all the way tonight
gonna go all the way tonight tonight
We're gonna go all the way tonight
gonna go all the way tonight tonight

RADIO BROADCAST:
Ok, here we go.
We got a real pressure cooker going here,
two down, nobody on,
no score, bottom of the ninth...
There's the windup, and there it is,
a line shot up the middle, look at him go.
This boy can really fly!
He's rounding first and really turning it on now,
he's not letting up at all, he's gonna try for second;
the ball is bobbled out in center,
and here comes the throw, and what a throw!
He's gonna slide in head first,
here he comes, he's out!
No, wait, safe, safe at second base.
This kid really makes things happen out there.
Batter steps up to the plate here's the pitch,
he's going, and what a jump he's got,
he's trying for third, here's the throw,
its in the dirt, safe at third!
Holy cow, stolen base!
He's taking a pretty big lead out there,
almost daring him to try and pick him off.
The pitcher glances over, winds up, and it bunted,
bunted down the third base line,
the suicide squeeze is on!
Here he comes, squeeze play,
it's gonna be close, here's the throw,
here's the play at the plate,
Holy cow, I think he's gonna make it!

GIRL:
Stop right there!!!
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further!
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy
for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away
and will you make me your wife?
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away
and will you make me your wife?
I gotta know right now
Before we go any further
Do you love me!!!?
Will you love me forever!!!?

BOY:
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you an answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you an answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you an answer in the morning

GIRL:
I gotta know right now!
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?
Do you need me?
Will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away
and will you make me your wife?
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further
Do you love me?
Will you love me forever?

BOY:
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you an answer in the morning
Let me sleep on it
Baby, baby let me sleep on it
Let me sleep on it
And I'll give you an answer in the morning

GIRL:
I gotta know right now!
Before we go any further
Do you love me!!!?
Will you love me forever!!!?

BOY:
Let me sleep on it!!

GIRL:
Will you love me forever!!!?

BOY:
I couldn't take it any longer
Lord I was crazed
And when the feeling came upon me
Like a tidal wave
I started swearing to my God
and on my mother's grave
That I would love you to the end of time
So now I'm praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive
Cause if I gotta spend another minute with you
I don't think that I can really survive
I'll never break my promise or forget my vow
But God only knows what I can do right now
I'm praying for the end of time
It's all that I can do, woo hoo
Praying for the end of time,
so I can end my time with you!!!

BOY:
It was long ago and it was far away
And it was so much better than it is today

GIRL:
It never felt so good
It never felt so right
And we were glowing like
A metal on the edge of a knife

[Jessica Drew]

Is there more than one William Blake?

I'm sure there have been many, and I'm sure there are quite a few out there now, but I was referring to the late poet William Blake.

BTW...love your avatar.

"Gimme lil' bit o' that pepper (pepper)
Gimme lil' bit o' that salt (salt)
Put in the skillet and cook it (cook it)
On the new stove I bought!"

You know where that comes from, right?

[beryl]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPR06mwiuMY

Breakfast, lunch and Dinner.

[Eric D.]

It was the 3rd of June, another sleepy dusty Delta day.
I was out choppin' cotton and my brother was bailin' hay.
And at dinner time we stopped and walked back to the house to eat.
And mama hollered out the backdoor, "Y'all remember to wipe your feet."
And then she said, "I got some news this mornin' from Choctaw Ridge.
Today Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge."

Papa said to mama as he passed around the blackeyed peas,
"Well, Billy Joe never had a lick of sense; pass the biscuits please.
There's 5 more acres in the lower 40 I got to plow."
And mama said it was a shame about Billy Joe anyhow.
Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge,
and now Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge.

And brother said he recollected when he and Tom and Billy Joe
put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show.
And wasn't I talkin' to him after church last Sunday night?
"I'll have another piece of apple pie; you know it don't seem right.
I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge
and now you tell me Billy Joe's jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge."

And mama said to me, "Child what's happened to your appetite?
I been cookin' all morning and you havent touched a single bite.
That nice young preacher brother Taylor dropped by today,
said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday; oh by the way,
he said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge,
and she and Billy Joe was throwin' something off the Tallahatchee Bridge."

A year's come and gone since we heard the news ´bout Billy Joe.
'N brother married Becky Thompson ´n´ they bought a store in Tupelo.
There was a virus goin' round, papa caught it and he died last spring,
and now mama doesn´t seem to wanna do much of anything.
And me, I spend a lotta time pickin' flowers up on Choctaw Ridge,
and drop 'em into the muddy water off the Tallahatchee bridge.

storytellin' in a song doesnt get much better than this.

[Eric D.]

Decoration Day by Drive-by Truckers (Jason Isbell)




It’s Decoration Day.
And I’ve a mind to roll a stone on his grave.
But what would he say.
“Keeping me down, boy, won’t keep me away”.

It’s Decoration Day.
And I knew the Hill Boys would put us away,
but my Daddy wasn’t afraid.
He said “We’ll fight till the last Lawson’s last living day”

I never knew how it all got started
a problem with Holland before we were born
and I don’t know the name of that boy we tied down
and beat till he just couldn’t walk anymore.
But I know the caliber in Daddy’s chest
and I know what Holland Hill drives.
The state let him go, but I guess it was best
cause nobody needs all us Lawsons alive.

Daddy said one of the boys had come by
the Lumber Man’s favorite son.
He said, “Beat him real good but don’t dare let him die
and if you see Holland Hill run.
Now I said, “they ain’t give us trouble no more
that we ain’t brought down on ourselves”
But a chain on my back and my ear to the floor
and I’ll send all the Hill Boys to hell.


It’s Decoration Day
and I’ve got a family in Mobile Bay
and they’ve never seen my Daddy’s grave.
But that don’t bother me, it ain’t marked anyway.
Cause I got dead brothers in Lauderdale south
and I got dead brothers in east Tennessee.
My Daddy got shot right in front of his house
he had noone to fall on but me.

It’s Decoration Day
and I’ve got a mind to go spit on his grave.
If I was a Hill, I’d have put him away
and I’d fight till the last Lawson’s last living day.
I’d fight till the last Lawson’s last living day.
I’d fight till the last Lawson’s last living day.

[DrewTheXenocide]

The Hold Steady and The Mountain Goats have both been recent favorites of mine doing this sort of thing.

The Hold Steady - Chips Ahoy

she put 900 dollars
on the fifth horse
in the sixth race
i think his name was chips ahoy.

came in six lengths ahead
we spent the whole next week getting high
at first i thought that she hit
on some tip that she got from some other boy.

we were overjoyed.
i got a girl and she don't have to work
she can tell which horse is gonna finish in first
some nights the painkillers make
the pain even worse

came in six lengths ahead
we spent the whole next week getting high
i love this girl but
i cant tell when she's having a good time.

How am I supposed to know that you're high
if you wont let me touch you?
How am i supposed to know that you're high
if you wont even dance?

shes hard on the heart
shes soft to the touch
she gets migrane headaches
when she does it too much.

she always does it too much.
How am I supposed to know that you're high
if you wont let me touch you?
How am I supposed to know that you're high
if you won't even dance?
and you won't even dance.

The Mountain Goats - The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton

the best ever death metal band out of denton
were a couple of guys, who'd been friends since grade school.
one was named cyrus, and the other was jeff.
and they practiced twice a week in jeff's bedroom.

the best ever death metal band out of denton
never settled on a name.
but the top three contenders, after weeks of debate,
were satan's fingers, and the killers, and the hospital bombers.

jeff and cyrus believed in their hearts they were headed
for stage lights and leer jets, and fortune and fame.
so in script that made prominent use of a pentagram,
they stenciled their drumheads and guitars with their names.

this was how cyrus got sent to the school
where they told him he'd never be famous.
and this was why jeff,
in the letters he'd write to his friend,
helped develop a plan to get even.
when you punish a person for dreaming his dream,
don't expect him to thank or forgive you.
the best ever death metal band out of denton
will in time both outpace and outlive you.
hail satan!
hail satan tonight!
hail satan!
hail hail!

[Eric D.]

The Hold Steady and The Mountain Goats have both been recent favorites of mine doing this sort of thing.


The Mountain Goats - The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton

the best ever death metal band out of denton
were a couple of guys, who'd been friends since grade school.
one was named cyrus, and the other was jeff.
and they practiced twice a week in jeff's bedroom.

the best ever death metal band out of denton
never settled on a name.
but the top three contenders, after weeks of debate,
were satan's fingers, and the killers, and the hospital bombers.

jeff and cyrus believed in their hearts they were headed
for stage lights and leer jets, and fortune and fame.
so in script that made prominent use of a pentagram,
they stenciled their drumheads and guitars with their names.

this was how cyrus got sent to the school
where they told him he'd never be famous.
and this was why jeff,
in the letters he'd write to his friend,
helped develop a plan to get even.
when you punish a person for dreaming his dream,
don't expect him to thank or forgive you.
the best ever death metal band out of denton
will in time both outpace and outlive you.
hail satan!
hail satan tonight!
hail satan!
hail hail!


just listened to this song, - i like it. I assume Denton, -as in Denton, TX, right?

[DrewTheXenocide]

just listened to this song, - i like it. I assume Denton, -as in Denton, TX, right?

Yeah. The name of the album it's on is All Hail West Texas

[Ziggy Stardust]

Cat's in the Cradle

It's a difficult song, because too many people make time for everything, except each other, and at the end, the father seems not to have gotten the point, as he's oddly proud.

No, I never figure he's proud, especially if you listen to how Chapin sings the final verse and that he says, "As I hung up the phone it occurs to me...."

But, it is a truly sad song.

[maniacthw]

"High Lonesome" by Gaslight Anthem. It's about wishing your life were different.

"And Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand
I always kinda sorta wished I looked like Elvis
And in my head there's all these classic cars
And outlaw cowboy bands
I always kinda sorta wished I was someone else"

[Zach J.]

"Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" by Warren Zevon

The story of Roland, a Norwegian mercenary, who fought as a Thompson Gunner in the Congo Crisis during the late 60's. Roland is the greatest Gunner and attracts the attention of the CIA. He is ultimately betrayed by a fellow mercenary, Van Owen, who kills him.

Not able to know peace until he gets revenge, Roland's headless body stalks the African continent for Van Owen. Finding the traitorous mercenary in a bar in Bombassa. Roland kills Van Owen, but his wandering is far from over...

[jessecuster3]

Sticking to The Hold Steady, here is Sequestered In Memphis:



It started when we were dancin’
It got heavy when we got to the bathroom
We didn’t go back to her place
We went to some place where she cat sits.
She said, “I know I look tired
But everything’s fried here in Memphis.”

Man, they want to know exactly which bathroom
Dude it doesn’t make any difference
It can’t be important.
Yeah, sure I’ll tell my story again …

In barlight, she looked alright
In daylight, she looked desperate
That’s alright I was desperate too
I’m getting pretty sick of this interview

Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis
Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis

I think she drove a new Mustang
I guess it might be a rental
I remember she had satellite radio
I guess she seemed a bit nervous
Do you think I’m that stupid?
Well look, what the hell, I’ll tell my story again …

In barlight, she looked alright
In daylight, she looked desperate
That’s alright I was desperate too
I’m getting pretty sick of this interview

Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis
Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis

Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis
Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis

Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis
Subpoenaed in Texas, sequestered in Memphis

I went there on business …

[jessecuster3]

Ben Folds - Fred Jones Pt 2.


Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There's an awkward young shadow
That waits in the hall
He has cleared all his things
And he's put them in boxes
Things that remind him
Life has been good
Twenty-five years he's worked at the paper
A man's here to take him downstairs
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time

There was no party
And there were no songs
Cause today's just the day
Like the day that he started
No one is left here
That knows his first name
And life barrells on
Like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don't change anything
You get off
Someone else can get on
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time

Streetlight, it shines through the shades
Casting lines on the floor
And lines on his face
He reflects on the day

Fred gets his paints out
And goes to the basement
Projecting some slides
Onto a plain white canvas
And traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides
And it doesn't look right
Yeah
And all of these bastards
Have taken his place
He's forgotten
But not yet gone
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time


Blur - Charmless Man


I met him in a crowded room
Where people go
To drink away their gloom
He sat me down and so began
The story of a charmless man
Educated the expensive way
He knows his claret from his beaujolais
I think he'd like to have been Ronnie Kray
But then nature didn't make him that way

He thinks he's educated,
airs those family shares
Will protect him that we will respect him
He moves in circles of friends
Who just pretend that they like him
He does the same to them,and when you put it all together
There's the model of a charmless man

He knows the swingers and their cavalry
Says he can get in anywhere for free
I began to go a little cross eyed
And from this charmless man
I just had to hide

He talks at speed he gets nose bleeds
He doesn't see his days
Are tumbling down upon him
And yet tries so hard to please
He's just so keen for you to listen
But no one is listening
And when you put it all together
There's the model of a charmless man

[jesse_custer]

"New York State of Mind" by Nas is fantastic storytelling. I tried to find lyrics without gross misspellings and other fuck-ups but couldn't, so it's probably best to listen to the song itself:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKjj4hk0pV4

Crackheads, selling broken amps, a jammed gun, "black rats" trapped in a maze ... this song is vivid and disturbing.

[Sentry76]

Warrant - Uncle Tom's Cabin


Just for the record let's get the story straight
Me and Uncle Tom were fishing it was getting pretty late
Out on a cypress limb above the wishin' well
Where they say it got no bottom, say it take you down to hell!


Over in the bushes and off to the right
Come two men talkin' in the pale moon light
Sheriff John Brady and Deputy Hedge
haulin' two limp bodies down to the water's edge

I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin, oh yeah
I know a secret that I just can't tell

They didn't see me and Tom in the trees
Neither one believing what the other could see
Tossed in the bodies, let 'em sink on down
To the bottom of the well where they'd never be found

I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin, oh yeah
I know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
I know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know who put the bodies in the wishing well!

Soon as they were gone me and Tom got down
Prayin' real hard that we wouldn't make a sound
Running through the woods back to Uncle Tom's shack
Where the full moon shines through the roof tile cracks

Oh my God, Tom, who are we gonna tell?
The Sheriff he belongs in a prison cell
Keep your mouth shut that's what we're gonna do
Unless you wanna wind up in the "Wishin' Well" too?

I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
I know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin, oh yeah!
I know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know who put the bodies
Know who put the bodies ... in the wishing well!

-----------------------------------


I've been lovin' this song for years :biggrin:
For Warrant, this song was a huge surprise.