The only certain thing that is left about me
There is no part of my body that has not been used
Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame
Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're happy
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Oh, Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're wanted
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
But you lose 'cause weird lover Wilde is on mine
When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun
Charles Windsor, who's at the door
At such an hour, who's at the door
In the back of an old green Cortina
You're on your way to the guillotine
Here the rabble comes
The kind you hoped were dead
They've come to chop, to chop off your head
Then you came with your breezeblocks
Smashing up my face like a bus-stop
You think you're giving
But you're taking my life away
Won't someone give me more fun?
(and the skin flies all around us)
We kiss in his room to a popular tune
Oh, real drowners
Don't walk away
In silence
See the danger
Always danger
Endless talking
Life rebuilding
Don't walk away
Walk in silence
Don't turn away in silence
Your confusion
My illusion
Worn like a mask of self-hate
Confronts and then dies
Don't walk away
You don't want to hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder
Oh there is thunder in our hearts
Is there so much hate for the ones we love
Tell me we both matter don't we
I don't know whether
To over or under estimate you
Whether to over or under estimate you
For when I come over
You then put me under
Personal taste is a matter of gender
I wake at dusk to go alone without a light
To the unknown
I want this night inside of me
I want to feel
I want this speeding
I want that speeding
You'll never live like common people
You'll never do what common people do
You'll never fail like common people
You'll never watch your life slide out of view
And dance and drink and screw
Because there's nothing else to do
All I have is words, words that don't obtain
And I feel I'm a stain on your horizon
So I stay away - it's easier that way
And there won't be no-one I need to rely on
Is it him, is it me
Or is there something only I can see
How did I get here, why do we blow around like straw dogs on the breeze
I'm a special one, what they used to say
But I've to stay on, finish levels-A
You don't need exams when you've read John Gray
And nobody ever comes alive
And the journalists clamour round glamour like flies
And boys who should know better grin and get high
With fat men who once met the MC5
And no one discusses what they don't understand
And no one does anything to harm the brand
And this gift is an illusion, this isn't hard
Absolutely anyone can play the fucking guitar
And we tried so hard
And we looked so good
And we lived our lives in black
Plucked her eyebrows on the way
Shaved her leg and then he was a she
She says, hey babe,
Take a walk on the wild side
Said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard:
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town...that they forgot to bomb
Come, come, come - nuclear bomb
Back when we were kids
We would always know when to stop
And now all the good kids are messing up
Nobody has gained or accomplished anything
Prices have risen since the government fell
Casualties increase as the enemy shell
The climate's unhealthy, flies and rats thrive
And sooner or later the end will arrive
This is your correspondent, running out of tape
Gunfire's increasing, looting, burning, rape
Well, maybe there's a god above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
It's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown
For whom none will go mourning
My body is your body
I won't tell anybody
If you want to use my body
Go for it
Oh it's opening time
Down on Fascination Street
So let's cut the conversation
And get out for a bit
Because I feel it all fading and paling
And I'm begging
To drag you down with me
And you see, I kind of shivered to conformity
Did you see the way I cowered to authority
You see, my life, it's a series of compromises anyway
It's a sham, and I'm conditioned to accept it all, you see
Take in the country air, you'll never win
Gentlemen take polaroids
They fall in love, they fall in love
We just want to emote til we're dead
I know we suffer for fashion
Or whatever
We don't want these days to ever end
We just want to emasculate them forever
Forever, forever
Pretty sirens don't go flat
It's not supposed to happen like that
There's no perfume I can buy
Make me smell like myself
So I put on perfume
To make me smell like someone else
In bed
I got love for you if you were born in the 80's, the 80's
I've got hugs for you if you were born in the 80's, the 80's
Does his makeup in his room
Douse himself with cheap perfume
Eyeholes in a paper bag
Greatest lay I ever had
Kind of guy who mates for life
Gotta help him find a wife
We're a couple, when our bodies double
Summer rains are here
Savaged beauty life
Falling here from grace
Sister feeling call
Cruising land to land
No faith no creed no soul
Half a world away
Beauty sleeps in time
Sound and fury play
North to south
Empty
Running on
Bravado
As if to say, as if to say
He doesn't like chocolate
He's born a liar, he'll die a liar
Some things will never be different
Well Daft Punk is playing at my house, my house
I've waited 7 years and 15 days
There's every kid for miles at my house, my house
And the neighbors can't...call the police
There's a fist fight brewin' at my house, my house
Because the jocks can't...get in the door
I just can't help believing
Though believing sees me cursed
I am trying to say
What I want to say
Without having to say "I love you"
It took 10 years to realise why the angels start to cry
When you go home down the main
Your happy smile
Your funny name
Doesn't she look a million with her hairagami set
Hair kisses 'n' hair architecture
Yes, she's a beautiful brunette angel from heaven with her hairagami set
Hair kisses 'n' hair architecture
Augment a beautiful brunette
How does it feel
To treat me like you do
When you've laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are
You must let her go
She's not crying
Baiting
Feeling like I'm waiting
Modern times
Valentines
Hating
Hating to distraction
Just leave them alone
Whipcrack
Girls in the back
Girls in the back
They say come back to earth and start getting real, yeah
I say come back to earth and start getting real
I know I can't
So I walk right up to you
And you walk all over me
And I ask you what you want
And you tell me what you need
The problem of leisure
What to do for pleasure
Ideal love a new purchase
A market of the senses
Dream of the perfect life
Economic circumstances
The body is good business
Sell out, maintain the interest
Sitting in my armchair thinking again and again and again
Going round in a circle I can't get out
Then I look around thinking day and night and day
Then you look around - there must be some explanation
And the tension builds
India, India
You're my love song
India, you're my love song
In the flowers
You can have me in the flowers
We will dance alone
And live our useless lives
They only want you when you're seventeen
When you're twenty-one
You're no fun
They take a polaroid and let you go
Say they'll let you know
No consolation prizes
Spit out your lies and chewing gum
Cut off your hair yeah that's it!
If you look like that I swear I'm gonna love you more
All the neighbors are startin' up a fire
Burning all the old folks, the witches and the liars.
My eyes are covered by the hands of my unborn kids
But my heart keeps watchin' through the skin of my eyelids
Prince charming
Prince charming
Ridicule is nothing to be scared of
Don't you ever, don't you ever
Stop being dandy, showing me you're handsome
CONDEMNED TO ROCK 'N ROLL 
I always think of myself as an indie kid first (with a couple of obvious exceptions)… should I be embarrassed by how many of these I own?
Should I hell.
This is probably the first mix you’ve put up that I already had most of lol. Interesting combinations there. I guess I realize now that I delve a bit more into rock than you do, but I don’t by any means consider myself “well-versed” on the genre. If for any reason whatsoever you would like to incorporate more rock into your collection, give me a shout and I’ll send some over. :)
I just never got the AC/DC/, Kiss, Led Zep thing at all. It was probably all down to the fact that the folk at school who liked that sort of stuff were just so cocksure of themselves and totally dismissive of punk and new wave. I was always arguing with them….
What a misleading name for your blog you have here! I was somewhat insulted when I read this, first at being mislead to believe this was about rock and roll, then to find out you’re not even a fan of the genre your blog champions? What’s going on here? I have no idea what kind of school you went to, and in your circumstance it may be true, but to say that fans of bands like AC/DC were dismissive of punk rock is ludicrous and misinformed. Clearly you have not researched the band at all, but it’ll be okay to overlook ignorance where it’s become so commonplace won’t it? It seems I should give you a little history lesson and let you in on the fact that when AC/DC embarked on their early tours of the UK, they were confused for a punk rock band due to their intensity, energy, and limited sound. AC/DC were grouped into that category of music and enjoyed by the same fans. However, you did a fantastic job redeeming your rock credibility by digging through the Guitar Hero games for gems of rock music. Surely you’d say these games are a fantastic way to discover new and exciting bands far out of the mainstream! You’ve got to be kidding.
Let’s clear something up. There is very little “rock” involved with indie rock. It’s as appropriately named as nu-metal is to heavy metal (another genre you pass judgment on with absolutely no understanding of whatsoever, so that was a complete waste of an analogy). Indie rock is a spineless, watered down and poppy attempt at elitist rock and roll (quite a contradiction there, isn’t it?) Today’s indie rock is (generally speaking, which is always dangerous as you’ve made some fine examples of insulting generalizations in this post) not dangerous, it makes no attempt at making a point or causing a change, and was strictly designed to give the self-absorbed the chance to make art where there is no artistic talent to be found. The latest generation of indie rock is defying its original code of ethics. It is no longer about opposition to the music industry and society as a whole. Indie is nothing more than a label stuck on every band whose lone goal is to take advantage of art school rockers and coffee shop intellectuals. In this way it’s almost an exact copy of today’s punk rock, only with a different stereotype for a fan base. Indie fans are people convinced of their own moral, political, social, artistic and hygienic superiority. See what I did there? I characterized indie fans the same way you described rock fans as being totally convinced they’d need a yardstick to measure the bulge in their pants. Indie rock is not the open-minded genre designed to put everyone on equal footing musically, it is no way to rebel against big business. It’s as close-minded and vapid as every other music genre, if not more because the artists have reached the point where they are taking advantage of the fans willingness to buy anything with the indie label attached. Indie rock (and rock as a whole) is a joke, and the fans are the butt of the joke. To say there is any genuine emotion or aspiration to a greater musical good in any genre borders on the absurd and ridiculous, but indie rock may be the worst of the lot. There is nothing real about it. There is no grit and world-weariness of rock and roll. There is no anger (real or contrived) of punk rock. There is no style and flair of new wave. There’s not even the theatrics and showmanship of heavy metal. Indie rock is soulless and boring. The only thing that separates this sham from other genres is that the fans haven’t caught on that the music is mocking them. The average rock and metal fan can (let’s hope!) decipher the childish vulgarities of their genres as nothing more than a playful taste of everything evil and unclean without having to experience the discomfort firsthand. Punk rock fans, while delusional to a degree, have always recognized a complete lack of musical ability and known that their music is escapism for a tender and difficult age. If any genre of music has caused a revolution (more absurdity), it’s an imagined revolution in the heads of the fans. Yet even here indie rock fails. There is no imagined revolution. No desire to change. And why should you? Indie rock fans are supreme, with a taste in music unrivaled by any other type of fan. They are God’s gift to the world, except for the fact that to the average indie rock fan, praying to God is as embarrassing as a grown man writing a letter to Santa Claus. And that’s why you’ll almost certainly dismiss my thoughts as troglodytic, much the same as you would my politics and every other aspect of my life (Here I’m not speaking to you specifically at all, so I apologize if you see it as an attack on yourself. I’m talking to the average indie rock fan as I imagine them, much the same way your mind skews your perception of rock fans in your blog.) Music’s purpose is only to entertain, and indie rock achieves this only by entertaining the beliefs of an imagined “high class” rock fan, thousands of evolutions ahead of the Neanderthals listening to such drivel as Led Zeppelin. On a side note, I’m curious to know how you came to the conclusion that Kurt Cobain is androgynous, yet Robert Plant who bleeds femininity from every pore is a purveyor of cock rock. In fact I’m curious to know if you think about anything at all before it spews off your keyboard. Certainly not the name of the blog. I’ll politely request you change it to avoid any further confusion from rock fans like myself who come here looking to sweat, kill, rape and destroy while flaunting our masculinity in front of every weakling who is unfortunate enough to cross our paths.
Liam Gallagher of Oasis said it best: “I hate all these new bands, I catch them on TV and not that many of them are that good. Very few I think. For me personally the music’s not that fucking clever, the songs aren’t that clever, and I think people just want to be small. No one’s fucking going for it. No one wants to be big. No one wants to be Elvis. No one wants to be John Lennon. They all just want to be little fucking indie shitheads, and I haven’t got the time for that.”
Now having taken the time to read through my rant, I apologize if I seem like an ass. I’m not going to deny it, but I am sorry for it. I just wanted to try to evoke the same emotions of disgust that your blog inspired in me. If you ever want me to lead you in the direction of some worthwhile rock and roll besides the overplayed, commercialized garbage in your playlist, I’d be happy to. Not saying those aren’t some decent groups you’ve got there, but far from their best songs.
One last thought, I’ve got baby hands too but it hasn’t stopped me from learning guitar. And I guarantee with about two weeks’ practice you’ll have exceeded every punk and indie rocker’s musical ability hundredfold. Hell just by looking at the thing you’ve got Sid Vicious and The Adverts beat, along with countless others.
Now that we’re all hot and bothered and spoiling for a fight, let’s go make us some damn fine rock and roll!
Wow I apologize for having attacked your blog for AC/DC ignorance, that was a comment…turns out the bulk of my rant was directed at jc! Now there’s some real ignorance for you!
oh dear.
I make a wee comment about things at school that happened 30 years ago as an explanation for my adversity to rock music and….pow…….I’m labelled as an indie snob.
Cant please everyone I suppose.