Good Lyrics Hall of Fame

Mileage has taken its toll
Paid it with lines to show
You've had your fill of asphalt
Cough tremors, and smoke-filled doors

Look like the habit controls you
Look like you need a rest
Made it to the timber-line
Don't know what to expect

God knows, you don't need it
Too early, you might be the one
Find yourself somewhere else
Too early in the sun

Song strains, distant, over
A barroom drink-filled roar
The old folksinger lays it down
Not for long, no longer ignored

Spinning tales of temptation
Of gambling days lost and won
No crimes committed here
Too much habit could be the one

God knows, you don't need it
Too early, you might be the one
Find yourself somewhere else
Too early in the sun

Never seen half of what you've seen
Real life never quite adds up
The road goes on when the faces don't
Word of mouth never tells the truth

Like to hear your story told
With a two-step beat and rhyme
Could be Tennessee or Texas
On and on, that road winds

God knows, you don't need it
Too early, you might be the one
Find yourself somewhere else
Too early in the sun

 

'Danger', 'Slow' sign ahead
Exhaust fumes, Thin Lizzy instead
Left all pressin' cares all along the road
Fifteen keys, but where do they go?

 

All night I've wrestled Jacob's angels
And prayed with Matthew, Luke and John
Struggling to find the words to face the task
That comes upon the blood red dawn.

I've buried men before their time
Of alcohol and blackened lung
But how to bury seven of these
Appalachian miners sons.
Who stormed the beaches wave on wave,
And sailed home to these rocky graves
In family plots that bared their names.

Chorus:
Tomorrow I'll walk up, seven hillsides
Tremble before my flock on seven hillsides
Seven sorrows, seven sons, seven mothers and every one
Will turn to me for the word of God, what does this mean?
And there I'll stand good book in hand,
A shepherd to these precious lambs
What will I say, what will I say, what can I say?

To tell the truth I'd never thought much
About the will of God before.
Called to preach at seventeen
I was in love with fiery words and not much more.

The time has come to keep the faith
For others shattered by their loss.
Remind them of the loving God
Whose son like theirs paid the cost.
To save a sad and wicked world
Through sacrifice our love is heard
And pray that I believe those words.

Chorus:
Tomorrow I'll walk up, seven hillsides
Tremble before my flock on seven hillsides
Seven sorrows, seven sons, seven mothers and every one
Will turn to me for the word of God, what does this mean?...

 

This delves into cheese, but it takes a little genius (or a lot of acid) to write lyrics like these. Song is catchy as he'll, too.

I love you like grave danger
Like moon shining disguise
Mmm hmm
When I wake up with your makeup
And spread blush cross the sky

Like a meteor crush
I'm gonna tell the world
Been a million years full of tears
But I found my girl

My notion of love devotion
Was a corrosion of mind
Mmm hmm
Then come cupid and now I’m stupid
And I feel it’s just fine

Like exploding face
I’m gonna tell the world
Been a million years full of fears
But I found my girl

It’s a spun tongue
It’s a holy shit
It’s a loud cry from the heart
It’s a live death
It’s a big breath
It’s a no more we’re apart

Like a rainbow crash
As we bow and swirl
Been a million years full of tears
But I found my girl

Like exploding sun
Let the light unfurl
Been a million years full of fears
But I found my girl

 

From Graham Parker:

The world is full of little people like you.
They have to read a book to learn what to do.
They hang around in second-hand stores for clothes.
And every kind of pressure steps on their toes.
Love doesn't fall out of a magazine.
You mustn't always believe what you see.
And baby, you need temporary beauty.
And hope to God that it doesn't rain.
You need temporary beauty.
Even though it might be love in vain.

 

I choose Too Early over Windfall.

My favorite song from an underrated album:

Once I thought the world was crazy
Everyone was sad and chasing
Happiness and love and
I was the only one above it.

Once I thought without a doubt
I had it all figured out
Universe with hands unseen
I was cold as gasoline.

Took too long, to think
I was wrong
To believe in me
Only.

Once my life was a game
So unfair
Beat me down and kept me there
Unaware of my naysayer
Solitaire was all I was
Playing

Took too long
To see
I was wrong
To believe in me
Only.

 

Son Volt fans should certainly appreciate "Indianapolis" by the Bottle Rockets, who are fronted by former Uncle Tupelo guitar tech Brian Henneman:
(best line in bold)

Got a tow
From a guy named Joe
Cost sixty dollars
Hope I don't run out of dough
Told me 'bout a sex offense
Put him three days in jail
Stuck in Indianapolis
Hope I live to tell the tale

Can't go west, can't go east
I'm stuck in Indianapolis
With a fuel pump that's deceased
Ten days on the road now
I'm four hours from my hometown
Is this Hell or Indianapolis?
With no way to get around

Called my girl to tell her
Of the trouble that I'd had
First time I called her in ten days
Guess that made her mad
Far as she's concerned
I belong in this Hoosier state
Stuck in Indianapolis
With no way to set things straight

Can't go west, can't go east
I'm stuck in Indianapolis
With a fuel pump that's deceased
Ten days on the road now
I'm four hours from my hometown
Is this Hell or Indianapolis?
With no way to get around

Sittin' in this bar
Is gettin' more than I could stand
If I could catch a ride
Really think, I'd ditch this van
Who knows what this repair will cost
Scared to spend a dime
I'll puke if that jukebox plays John Cougar one more time

But If I ever leave here I hope never to return
If I get that van back
Man, the road, I'm gonna burn
Right now, my future's in the hands
Of the boys, down at Firestone
Stuck in Indianapolis
Feelin' all alone

Can't go west, can't go east
I'm stuck in Indianapolis
With a fuel pump that's deceased
Ten days on the road now
I'm four hours from my hometown
Is this Hell or Indianapolis?
With no way to get around
Is this Hell or Indianapolis?
With no way to get around

 

Thousand Dollar Car is a masterpiece.

And I can't believe no one's mentioned Zevon.

Roland was a warrior from the Land of the Midnight Sun
With a Thompson gun for hire, fighting to be done
The deal was made in Denmark on a dark and stormy day
So he set out for Biafra to join the bloody fray

Through sixty-six and seven they fought the Congo war
Fingers on their triggers, knee-deep in gore
For days and nights they battled the Bantu to their knees
They killed to earn their living and to help out the Congolese

Roland the Thompson gunner...

His comrades fought beside him - Van Owen and the rest
But of all the Thompson gunners Roland was the best
So the CIA decided they wanted Roland dead
That son-of-a-bitch Van Owen blew off Roland's head

Roland the headless Thompson gunner (Time, time, time
For another peaceful war
Norway's bravest son But time stands still for Roland
'Til he evens up the score)
They can still see his headless body stalking through the night
In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun
In the muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun

Roland searched the continent for the man who'd done him in
He found him in Mombassa in a barroom drinking gin
Roland aimed his Thompson gun - he didn't say a word
But he blew Van Owen's body from there to Johannesburg

Roland the headless Thompson gunner...

The eternal Thompson gunner, still wandering through the night
Now it's ten years later but he still keeps up the fight
In Ireland, in Lebanon, in Palestine and Berkeley
Patty Hearst heard the burst of Roland's Thompson gun
And bought it

 

I woke up early on my born day, I'm twenty, it's a blessing
The essence of adolescence leaves my body now I'm fresh in
My physical frame is celebrated cause I made it
One quarter through life some God-ly like thing created
Got rhymes 365 days annual plus some
Load up the mic and bust one, cuss while I puff from
my skull cause it's pain in my brain vein money maintain
Don't go against the grain simple and plain
When I was young at this I used to do my thing hard
Robbin foreigners take they wallets they jewels and rip they green cards
Dipped to the projects flashin my quick cash
and got my first piece of ass smokin blunts with hash
Now it's all about cash in abundance, niggas I used to run with
is rich or doin years in the hundreds
I switched my motto — instead of sayin fuck tomorrow
That buck that bought a bottle could've struck the lotto
Once I stood on the block, loose cracks produce stacks
I cooked up and cut small pieces to get my loot back
Time is Illmatic keep static like wool fabric
Pack a four-matic that crack your whole cabbage

 

You forgot the cheesy emoticon.

 

Bunch'a racists on this damn board.

 

Eminem writes some good songs.