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Post by I on Apr 2, 2006 11:21:53 GMT
Coming back shopping from Ridley Road market yesterday, Shaune and I were strolling along Colvestone Crescent on our way to Dalston Lane. As we passed by Adrian Whittaker's house near Cecilia Road, we happened to glance in. Adrian was sitting there reading...Margrave Of The Marshes, the John Peel biography written by himself and completed by his wife, Sheila Ravenscroft. Shaune muttered something about her "quivering nerves" and for the hundredth time I wondered if I should knock at his door and sing an accapella version of 'Way Back In The 1960s' or 'Koeeoaddi There'.
Reel
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Post by grumpy on Apr 2, 2006 11:38:31 GMT
Nice anecdote, Penny. OK, all together now:
Amoebas are very small
Oo ah ee oo there's absolutely no strife
Living the timeless life
I don't need a wife
Living the timeless life
If I need a friend I just give a wriggle
Split right down the middle
And when I look there's two of me
Both as handsome as can be
Oh here we go slithering, here we go slithering and squelching on
Oo ah ee oo there's absolutely no strife
Living the timeless life
Black hair, brown hair, feather and scale
Seed and stamen and all unnamed lives that live
Turn your quivering nerves in my direction
Turn your quivering nerves in my direction
Feel the energy projection of my cells
Wishes you well.
May the long time sun shine upon you
All love surround you
And the pure light within you
Guide you all the way on.
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Post by I on Apr 2, 2006 11:49:25 GMT
I’m not the kind to complain
That I never had a girl to love.
Many a fine girl I tried hard to know,
But I think I never tried enough.
Sitting one day by myself,
And I’m thinking, “What could be wrong?”
When this funny little Hedgehog comes running up to me,
And it starts up to sing me this song.
Oh, you know all the words, and you sung all the notes,
But you never quite learned the song, she sang.
I can tell by the sadness in your eyes,
That you never quite learned the song.
Every day when the sun go down,
And the evening is so very still,
Many a fine girl I’ve held in my arms,
And I hope there’s many more that I will,
But just when everything is going fine,
And absolutely nothing is wrong,
This funny little Hedgehog’s always around
And every time he wants to sing me this song.
Oh, you know all the words, and you sung all the notes,
But you never quite learned the song, she sang.
I can tell by the sadness in your eyes,
That you never quite learned the song.
One day when the moon was full I thought I might settle down,
Found myself a pretty little girl,
And I stopped all my running around;
But just when the preacher come along,
And he’s just gonna pop on the ring,
This funny little Hedgehog comes
running down the aisle,
And I don’t have to tell you what he did sing.
Oh, you know all the words, and you sung all the notes,
But you never quite learned the song, she sang.
I can tell by the sadness in your eyes,
That you never quite learned the song.
I’m not the kind to complain
That I never had a girl to love;
Many fine girls I’ve tried hard to know,
But I think I never tried enough.
But now I’ll be looking all my days,
And it isn’t just me I got to please,
There’s this funny little Hedgehog
Who’s always around,
And the only words he ever sings to me are these.
Oh, you know all the words and you sung all the notes,
But you never quite learned the song, she sang.
I can tell by the sadness in your eyes,
That you never quite learned the song.
Observer
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Post by grumpy on Apr 2, 2006 12:09:40 GMT
A long wind a weaving mind
Over all the land the wild flowers grow,
Echoing kind to kind
On that day when I found the iron stone
Heavy in my hand in the sloping rain
Ever the seas rolled on and o'er my heart
They roofed their slates of grey
The iron stone I found it on that day
The iron stone I brought it home
Heavy in my hand I brought it home
Black as the thoughts of doom
A man told me it came from the moon
Flying through time it flew
Upon the long beach where I found it
Dancing horses told their tale
Among the stones it called me
There my hand it knew
Seeing in the thickness of the thick black sight
Forests and centaurs and gods of the night
Never that sun shone on
Where high Atlantis raised her shores
How sang the dragons of the sea
Love paints the carts with suns for wheels
The jester's bauble, cap and bells
The brave, perhaps, Mustachio
Sir Primalform Magnifico
The dragon me with golden toes
And golden fire my flaming nose
And memories, memories
My cave was bright with sulky gems
That paled the stars like diadems
Silver lost and buried gold
Such was my home in days of old.
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