Page 2 of 2
#41
I've always loved the Arctic Monkey's lyrics.

"I poured my aching heart into a pop song
I never got the hang of poetry
That's not a skirt girl, that's a sawed-off shotgun
And I can only hope you've got it aimed at me"

Plus I love the Kinks.
#42
This song holds possibly some of my favorite lyrics ever written:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxIPPU-EOF0

I was born with a teacup on my head,
Copper tin and lead, ash and dust.
Sky color: Indiana Red,
Like Kansas, Oklahoma, plus a thousand years of rust.

Examine it carefully before it's set ablaze,
Take it all in before it's gone, gone, gone.
Let's notice everything, I mean every grain of salt.
Let's be thorough to a fault and next time
we'll build it twice as strong.

And all of this will disappear as quickly as it came,
The fire and the rain oxidize and rearrange
Focus on the pain,
Focus on the way to get out.

Virginia, 1902.
There was nothing we could do, cracked bell fell off a train,
Slow walking down Cedar Avenue,
I came to find you, I came to feel urbane.

No more speed, no more direction,
No more push and pull, and no more lessons,
Save it for the afterlife, don't want to hear your confessions,
It's the hammer walking, then it's the hammer down.

And all of this will disappear as quickly as it came,
The fire and the rain oxidize and rearrange
Focus on the pain,
Focus on the way to get out.


The Books are so perfect for wintertime.
art tumblr

If I'm not raw, I'm just a bit underdone.
Last edited by Svetlova at Dec 12, 2011,
#43
Song from Under the Floorboards by Magazine. Some of the finest lyrics to grace my ears.


I am angry I am ill and I'm as ugly as sin
my irritability keeps me alive and kicking
I know the meaning of life, it doesn't help me a bit
I know beauty and I know a good thing when I see it

This is a song from under the floorboards
this is a song from where the wall is cracked
my force of habit, I am an insect
I have to confess I'm proud as hell of that fact

I know the highest and the best
I accord them all due respect
but the brightest jewel inside of me
glows with pleasure at my own stupidity

I used to make phantoms I could later chase
images of all that could be desired
then I got tired of counting all of these blessings
and then I just got tired
You take my place in the showdown, I observe with a pitiful eye. I'll humbly ask you forgiveness, a request well beyond you and I.
#44
Quote by Svetlova
This song holds possibly some of my favorite lyrics ever written:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxIPPU-EOF0



The Books are so perfect for wintertime.

There are no words.
She was born in 1898 in a barn. She died on the thirty-seventh floor of a skyscraper. She's an astronaut.



Quote by matt bickerton
Doesn't at all surprise me why so many people here tend to think you're a douche
#46
Lastly, I admire his ability to create characters. I Know What I Like, Back in N.Y.C., and Family Snapshot demonstrate how he's able to not only create characters, but bring us into their psyche as well. Overall, Peter Gabriel is an artist that I believe is worth checking out.
#47
Back in NYC was weird at first, but powerfull.

I like Mark Hollis' lyrics. Every phrase is like a gem to me. I like his minimalism. The words that aren't said are just as important. I haven't heard all his lyrics in a correct way yet, but for one time I don't care. I don't want to look up them. I feel like a little child guessing at how things work and geaving it my own explanation.

Colour of Spring

"Forget our fate", the pedlar sings.
Set up to sell my soul,
I've lived a life for wealth to bring.
And yet I'll gaze [at]...
The colour of spring,
Immerse in that one moment,
Left in love with everything,
Soar the bridges that I burnt before,
One song among us all...

His influence on me is quite large.
Last edited by niqolaise at Jan 17, 2012,
#48
This is a song from under the floorboards this is a song from where the wall is cracked
my force of habit, I am an insect I have to confess I'm proud as hell of that fact
#49
I love that Two Gallants song, in fact I've got three different versions of it. They recorded it twice at a studio/music site, a few miles from me called daytrotter. One version is piano, the other has added a harmonica. Their stuff's right in my vocal range so it's nice to cover, but no one knows who they are.

"I went to your schools, I did my detention,
but the walls were so gray, I couldn't pay attention.
I read your gospel, it moved me to tears,
but I couldn't find the hate, and I couldn't find the fear.
I met your saviour, I knelt at his feet,
and then he took my ten bucks, and he went down the street.
I tried to believe all the things that you said,
but my friends that aren't dyin', are already dead.

Raise a toast to St. Joe Strummer. . ."

constructive summer - the hold steady
"Pain or damage don't end the world nor despair, nor fuckin' beatings. The world ends when you're dead, until then you have more punishment in store. Stand it like a man, and give some back."
#50
When I was first writing, what helped me the most wasn't difficult prose or poetry, it was always lyrics. I wasn't influenced by anything particularly 'heavy' - and sometimes the artists that helped me most weren't thought of as particularly lyrical.

John Frusciante's lyrics are good inspiration for newer writers. He often goes a song without rhyming and if he does rhyme, it won't be forced. Which is what I think holds back a lot of people who are just starting out. This song is actually a bit of an exception to that, but I think it will be helpful anyway. It also has a lovely tune which you can hear from the youtube link.

"Someone's"

Someone's waiting to fly with me
Someone's saying goodbye everytime she says hello
Cuz they both connect no one with somebody
I'm floating down this airstream
I'm floating and it's every dream I've ever had
And I'm so happy and sad
Cuz they both connect me with when I'd never been a body
Every house is a frame
Anything real has a brain
We talk ourselves out of it
But I've reconsidered it and I'm convinced
Everywhere I look has a face
Everyone who has lived has a place
Right here's every world
Every time draws a line to right now
Hold and turn the infinite
Someone's taking me all over out there

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bMUmDUhaB4&feature=related

I would also reccommend people go and check out Lou Reed's Transformer album, which has some lovely if very quirky lyrics. Another guy who might help people is Mike Skinner (The Streets), who certainly won't be to everyone's taste but you can learn a lot from him.
Last edited by samoo at Feb 15, 2012,
#51
Matt Embree is a lyrical pimp.

Overcome (The Recapitulation) by Rx Bandits

We've had enough of these politician's wars
what we need right now is love
We've had enough of the military scoreboards
all we need right now is love
(give it up!)

the future is held in the hands that write the textbooks
ignorance is bred when falsified thinking is taught
to the youth instead of past mistakes and mind elevation
like the graves that manifest destiny has created
so we can build our capitalist consumer-based economy
to build, market, and sell commodities we don't need
we are trained to believe
like celebrity imaging
well, I'm here to take my feelings back and I hope that you will be with me

I can't wait for that day when I hear us all screamin:
ah ah ah ah ah!
I can't wait for the day when I hear us all singing together:
oh oh oh

I can't wait for the day when I hear us all screaming: "Hear comes the revolution!"
When ever race color and creed and militant human being
stand up with fist together for substance and true meaning
because right now, we got our feet stuck in cement
we're too caught up in the material status-quo punishment
one thing is for sure, and that's the sun will always set
darling you can bet our moon is quite the opposite
so baby, take an axe to your makeup kit
set ablaze the billboards and the advertisement
love with all our eyes and never forget
how good it feels to be alive and strive for your desire

because you can see your cage doesn't mean that you are free
with laws against nature but it's ok for you to be
addicted to over the counter prescriptions
while magazines dictate all of our human relations
I'm not buying, no I'm not giving
to a culture that objectifies all of our women
I'm not buying, no I'm not consuming
the apathetic dribble on the newsmedia's chin
I'm not buying no I'm not giving in
the lies that are sold through textbooks to children
I'm not buying no I'm not consuming
because a positive will always overcome a negative

and we stay inside
it's right outside
we stand in line
I want Super Saiyan abilities
Last edited by rebelmidget at Feb 17, 2012,
#52
we all enjoy our fences
they keep it at bay
but I'm not giving in

His work on both The Resignation (this is the 4th track from that album) and especially ...and the Battle Begun by Rx as well as his solo stuff, Love You Moon, put this guy in rare air to me. I'm really interested to see where the textbooks place him. Hard to make the world forget you started as a mediocre ska frontman.
I want Super Saiyan abilities
Last edited by rebelmidget at Feb 17, 2012,
#53
Every night when I lay my head these silhouettes won?t let me rest
They toss and turn into my dreams they make me see they?re good enough for me
They catch themselves within the brook that handles my hair and cuddles my books
With words and phrases that I don?t mean and imperfect conceptions of the birds and the bees

And every night in my dreams these little vermin run around
Making sounds and going down in history as one of the scariest sights in town

Then every day when I wake up, I smell the scent of love
Because when you?re dead or dreaming, there?s no one you can trust

Every room across the earth is colored the same shade of s.hit
And all the children from Juno to Perth are convinced that ghosts don?t exist
Well you try falling for a moving target, a girl who dates in the grocery market
A derailed train insane in the brain with a passionate kiss to make a couch a tryst
And then you?ll see that ghosts are real and monsters too can make you feel
Sometimes and somewhere, somehow and someway
These little thoughts will escape on a subway
And jump aboard a suicide car soon to enter your head and exit my heart
This is what was determined right from the start when I kissed her on the cheek and I kissed her hard

And every night in my dreams these fairies wave their wands
Making fantasies out of wishes and skyscrapers out of swamps

Then every day when I wake up, I smell the scent of death
Because when you?re dead or dreaming, there?s only false living left
#54
Maynard James Keenan of Tool writes amazing lyrics. Example from The Grudge by Tool off their album Lateralus:

Wear the grudge like a crown of negativity.
Calculate what we will or will not tolerate.
Desperate to control all and everything.
Unable to forgive your scarlet lettermen.

Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Justify denials and grip 'em to the lonesome end.
Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Terrified of being wrong. Ultimatum prison cell.

Saturn ascends, choose one or ten. Hang on or be humbled again.

Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Justify denials and grip them to their lonesome end.
Saturn ascends, comes round again.
Saturn ascends, the one, the ten. Ignorant to the damage done.

Wear the grudge like a crown of negativity.
Calculate what you will or will not tolerate.
Desperate to control all and everything.
Unable to forgive your scarlet lettermen.

Wear the grudge like a crown. Desperate to control.
Unable to forgive. And sinking deeper.

Defining, confining, sinking deeper. Controlling, defining, and we're sinking deeper.

Saturn comes back around to show you everything
Let's you choose what you will not see and then
Drags you down like a stone or lifts you up again
Spits you out like a child, light and innocent.

Saturn comes back around. Lifts you up like a child or
Drags you down like a stone to
Consume you till you choose to let this go.
Choose to let this go.

Give away the stone. Let the oceans take and transmutate this cold and fated
anchor.
Give away the stone. Let the waters kiss and transmutate these leaden grudges
into gold.

Let go.


Amazing lyrics imho from an amazing band and an amazing song.
If you're traveling in the North Country Fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to the one who lives there
For she once was a true love of mine
Last edited by SpillyMcKid at Feb 24, 2012,
#55
This thread could be so much more, but I think it needs to start less from a level of showing eachother our favorite lyricists and instead from a general discussion of how we write songs.

I, for instance, used to have piles of lyrics and a headfull of tunes, but nothing to glue them together. It took me quite some time to stop trying to frankenstein songs from the scrap pile and reach my current method.

I just find a progression that i think sounds cool and isn't too complicated and then strum it everywhich way until I find the proverbial "one". Once I have that, I dumb the strum pattern down to the bare essentials, close my eyes, and hum while visualising the energy of the song. After a while this leaves me with a melody and a progression and more often than not a few ideas for other parts.

The lyrics now become the easiest part (writing is a slightly more natural thing for me than music). I just say what's on my mind to the tune. Thankfully I have a rather interesting mind. Of course, I do bend and break and flip around and forge for the sake of effect. I don't think a song has to be purely honest or honest at all for that matter. Songs may gain a certain believability if grown from a place of honesty but at the end of the day It just has to work.

so there's what I think, wbu?
#56
Really, this thread began because folks were asking for it and because we thought it would be nice to discuss our favourite lyrics. But what you're talking about doesn't belong in this forum. The musical side belongs in Musician Talk - both this forum and MT are very, very often mistaken as the same thing - and the lyrical side of songwriting belongs in the Techniques subforum.

Now, the S&L Techniques forum doesn't get very much activity and never did. It looks after itself and is not especially appreciated by the majority of the regular members on UG. It's more of a place where those new to songwriting can discuss the beginnings of how to write lyrics, poetry etc., and then post their new creations in the main forum - this one.

So although it would be nice to have one forum that allowed the entire discussion of songwriting from start to finish, there hasn't been any changes to the UG site for years since its actualization because this topic has been discussed before and no changes have ever been made, so the chance of it happening now is just as slim. But I will mention it to the admins and other mods.
#57
I'm slowly becoming a hip hop writer. God help me.

Quote by EyeNon15
Thats too bad, I was under the impression I was arguing something profound


1 3 5 R
2 4 6
#59
thanks for clearing that up. always bringing that knowledge. I appreciate it.
I want Super Saiyan abilities
#60
Quote by AngryGoldfish
Who are you using as an inspiration?


Dr. Octagon, Tyler the Creator, Kool Keith, Childish Gambino, F. Stokes. Odd dudes, haha.

Quote by EyeNon15
Thats too bad, I was under the impression I was arguing something profound


1 3 5 R
2 4 6
#61
There are some rap artists with lyrics that just blow me away, take The Flobots for example:

There's a war going on for your mind
Media mavens mount surgical strikes
from trapper keeper collages and online magazine racks
Cover girl cutouts throw up pop-up ads
Infecting victims with silicone shrapnel
Worldwide passenger pigeons deploy paratroopers
Now it's raining pornography lovers take shelter
Post-production debutantes pursue you in nascar chariots
They construct ransom letters from biblical passages
and bleed mascara into holy water supplies

There's a war going on for your mind
Industry insiders slang test tube babies to corporate crackheads
They flash logos and blast ghettos
Their embroidered neckties say "stop snitchin'"
Conscious rappers and whistleblowers get stitches
made of acupuncture needles and marionette strings

There is a war going on for your mind
Professional wrestlers and vice presidents want you to believe them
The desert sky is their bluescreen
They superimpose explosions
They shout at you
"pay no attention to the men behind the barbed curtain
Nor the craters beneath the draped flags
Those hoods are there for your protection
And meteors these days are the size of corpses

There's a war going on for your mind
We are the insurgents
She was born in 1898 in a barn. She died on the thirty-seventh floor of a skyscraper. She's an astronaut.



Quote by matt bickerton
Doesn't at all surprise me why so many people here tend to think you're a douche
#62
You're walking through the forest where they feed the trees broken glass.
John Lennon and the Rolling Stones crooning in plastic bags.

Spit shine your black luck now, baby.

You turn on the radio, the speakers spit tangled talk.
Everything is war and who's ****ed their way to the top.

But they'll eat black clouds we all eat black clouds.

You're working on a cruise now serving caviar to the cruel.
Oh, They repossessed your heart; you're making payments on your face, too.

Spit shine your black clouds now, baby.

And what if your religion turns out to be a cruel
joke, and you're ****ed beyond all hope?

Gonna spit shine your black clouds now, baby.

First you stayed in bed all day and walked around all night.
Then you threw your phone away and slept beneath the freeway underpass.
Your mother slit her throat after your father's heart attack.
And you've got two little sisters still in school.

What'cha gonna do?
What'cha gonna do?

Just sit and watch the ships loading their freight and pale pelicans feeding their young and grasp at the barbarically charming sun.
Out on the weekend talked your way out of a first date.
Said your uncle was famous, by then it was too late.

Spit shine your black luck now, baby.

Fall asleep to the tv--the cops are talking tough to the cameras in the backseat, to the audience at home.

But they'll eat black clouds we all eat black clouds.

Once you knew a girl with skin like a sapphire sun.
Took you back to her apartment, told you everything you did wrong.

Spit shine your black luck.
Spit shine your black luck.

Spit shine your black luck.
Spit shine your black luck.

Spit shine your black luck.
Spit shine your black luck.

The sky's so desolate like flesh on a skull-shaped balloon.
You sit in bed writing love letters to yourself.

No black ink on the black paper, baby.

Stare at the ceiling, fall into dreamless sleep.
Day climbs your chimney, taps you on the shoulder blade, "Spit shine your black clouds now, baby."

All your best friends grew up to be successful actresses.
All your bitter enemies died of liver failure in Kent, Washington trailers.
All your brothers made babies until their brains turned brown.
The world's lounging longways on an unbridled black cloud.

The world's lounging longways on an unbridled black cloud.

The world's lounging longways on an unbridled black cloud.

- Spit shine your black clouds - The Blood Brothers.

Love the imagery portrayed in Blood Brothers work...
Last edited by corza334 at Jun 6, 2012,
#63
there are some rap artists with lyrics that just blow me away,

i mean, nas and em are in my eyes untouchable. and then there's joe budden (JERS REPRESENT WOOWOO), who has always been incredible for me. blu, too.

to take a statement that flea made and twist it, he said, something along the lines of, "i don't think you can be a good rock musician unless you recognize and get in touch with punk rock because it was such a revolutionary genre and was so important."
i'd say, i don't think, as a writer of say poetry, that you can really excel unless you've listened to some hip hop and rap artists, because the rhymes and wordplay and emphases are such integral components. i wasn't really able to rhyme multiples until i started paying attention to em, and then a whole new world opened up to me.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn


#64
Quote by Cobrevolution
i mean, nas and em are in my eyes untouchable. and then there's joe budden (JERS REPRESENT WOOWOO), who has always been incredible for me. blu, too.

to take a statement that flea made and twist it, he said, something along the lines of, "i don't think you can be a good rock musician unless you recognize and get in touch with punk rock because it was such a revolutionary genre and was so important."
i'd say, i don't think, as a writer of say poetry, that you can really excel unless you've listened to some hip hop and rap artists, because the rhymes and wordplay and emphases are such integral components. i wasn't really able to rhyme multiples until i started paying attention to em, and then a whole new world opened up to me.
I'm a bit late, but this is very true. I feel like I've learned a lot from listening to rappers like both Slug from Atmosphere, who is more raw and self-deprecating, and Common who is more sweet and tender.
#65
Don't know if anyone here could help, but it's worth a shot.

I'm looking for the author of this :

"In the end
You were my favorite color
Nestled along my iris in between the early morning sky
In April and the flesh of a slightly overripe grapefruit
I mixed you into my sweat and
Presented myself for critique to the northern wind
Hoping to have become a masterpiece
By virtue of loving you

And in the end
You were squinting at me like people stare at the Mona Lisa
Searching to the brilliance"

I cant find it anywhere on the net, nobody i've asked has any idea yet either. Help?
Music is an art form that celebrates potential. So long as you're looking for it, you'll always find it.
#66
The Raconteurs - Carolina Drama

I'm not sure if there's a point to this story
But I'm going to tell it again
So many other people try to tell the tale
Not one of them knows the end

It was a junk-house in South Carolina
Held a boy the age of ten
Along with his older brother Billy
And a mother and her boyfriend
Who was a triple loser with some blue tattoos
That were given to him when he was young
And a drunk temper that was easy to lose
And thank god he didn't own a gun

Well, Billy woke up in the back of his truck
Took a minute to open his eyes
He took a peep into the back of the house
And found himself a big surprise
He didn't see his brother but there was his mother
With her red-headed head in her hands
While the boyfriend had his gloves wrapped around an old priest
Trying to choke the man

Ah Ah Ahhh...

Billy looked up from the window to the truck
Threw up, and had to struggle to stand
He saw that red-necked bastard with a hammer
Turn the priest into a shell of a man
The priest was putting up the fight of his life
But he was old and he was bound to lose
The boyfriend hit as hard as he could
And knocked the priest right down to his shoes

Well, now Billy knew but never actually met
The preacher lying there in the room
He heard himself say, "That must be my daddy"
Then he knew what he was gonna do
Billy got up enough courage, took it up
And grabbed the first blunt thing he could find
It was a cold, glass bottle of milk
That got delivered every morning at nine

Ah Ah Ahhh...

Billy broke in and saw the blood on the floor, and
He turned around and put the lock on the door
He looked dead into the boyfriend's eye
His mother was a ghost, too upset to cry, then
He took a step toward the man on the ground
From his mouth trickled out a little audible sound
He heard the boyfriend shout, "Get out!"
And Billy said, "Not till I know what this is all about"
"Well, this preacher here was attacking your mama"
But Billy knew just who was starting the drama
So Billy took dead aim at his face
And smashed the bottle on the man who left his dad in disgrace, and
The white milk dripped down with the blood, and the
Boyfriend fell down dead for good
Right next to the preacher who was gasping for air
And Billy shouted, "Daddy, why'd you have to come back here?"
His mama reached behind the sugar and honey, and
Pulled out an envelope filled with money
"Your daddy gave us this," she collapsed in tears
"He's been paying all the bills for years"
"Mama, let's put this body underneath the trees
and put Daddy in the truck and head to Tennessee"
Just then, his little brother came in
Holding the milk man's hat and a bottle of gin singing,

La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la, la la la...
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la, la la la...
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah
La la la la, la la la la, yeah

Well now you heard another side to the story
But you wanna know how it ends?
If you must know, the truth about the tale
Go and ask the milkman
#67
Sara Bareilles. You can't sing with the passion she does unless you've really poured your soul into your lyrics....

Between the Lines

Time to tell me the truth
To burden your mouth for what you say
No pieces of paper in the way
Cause I can't continue pretending to choose
These opposite sides on which we fall
The loving you laters if at all
No right minds could wrong be this many times

My memory is cruel
I'm queen of attention to details
Defending intentions if he fails
Until now, he told me her name
It sounded familiar in a way
I could have sworn I'd heard him say it ten thousand times
If only I had been listening...


Leave unsaid unspoken
Eyes wide shut unopened
You and me
Always between the lines
Between the lines

I thought I, thought I was ready to bleed
That we'd move from the shadows on the wall
And stand in the center of it all
Too late, two choices to stay or to leave
Mine was so easy to uncover
He'd already left with the other
So I learned to listen through silence

Leave unsaid unspoken
Eyes wide shut unopened
You and me
You and me always be

I tell myself all the words he surely meant to say
I'll talk until the conversation doesn't stay on
Wait for me I'm almost ready
When he meant let go

Leave unsaid unspoken
Eyes wide shut unopened
You and me
Always be
You and me
Always between the lines
Last edited by designerpajamas at Aug 8, 2012,
#68
Quote by Mr.Pink101
Don't know if anyone here could help, but it's worth a shot.

I'm looking for the author of this :

"In the end
You were my favorite color
Nestled along my iris in between the early morning sky
In April and the flesh of a slightly overripe grapefruit
I mixed you into my sweat and
Presented myself for critique to the northern wind
Hoping to have become a masterpiece
By virtue of loving you

And in the end
You were squinting at me like people stare at the Mona Lisa
Searching to the brilliance"

I cant find it anywhere on the net, nobody i've asked has any idea yet either. Help?


It's by a girl named Anna Peters
http://topographe.tumblr.com/post/26920694131/art-history

...keep working on them Googling skills
#69
In 1791, riled by a recent review that criticised a supposed abundance of "obscure language" and "imperfect grammar" in his poetry, celebrated Scottish poet Robert Burns channelled his anger and wrote the following magnificent letter to the critic responsible.

Ellisland, 1791.

Dear Sir:

Thou eunuch of language; thou Englishman, who never was south the Tweed; thou servile echo of fashionable barbarisms; thou quack, vending the nostrums of empirical elocution; thou marriage-maker between vowels and consonants, on the Gretna-green of caprice; thou cobler, botching the flimsy socks of bombast oratory; thou blacksmith, hammering the rivets of absurdity; thou butcher, embruing thy hands in the bowels of orthography; thou arch-heretic in pronunciation; thou pitch-pipe of affected emphasis; thou carpenter, mortising the awkward joints of jarring sentences; thou squeaking dissonance of cadence; thou pimp of gender; thou Lyon Herald to silly etymology; thou antipode of grammar; thou executioner of construction; thou brood of the speech-distracting builders of the Tower of Babel; thou lingual confusion worse confounded; thou scape-gallows from the land of syntax; thou scavenger of mood and tense; thou murderous accoucheur of infant learning; thou ignis fatuus, misleading the steps of benighted ignorance; thou pickle-herring in the puppet-show of nonsense; thou faithful recorder of barbarous idiom; thou persecutor of syllabication; thou baleful meteor, foretelling and facilitating the rapid approach of Nox and Erebus.

R.B.


http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/01/thou-eunuch-of-language.html
Last edited by Arthur Curry at Sep 17, 2012,
Page 2 of 2