Song lyrics or poetry and prose

[Jedthehumanoid]

The rise of popular music over the last 50 years has produced an outlet for creative writers to reach a mass market. What would have been committed to books is now celebrated in song. What's your preference or your favourite piece?

Here's an extract from a track entitled Stay Loose by Belle and Sebastian.

I was living through the seconds
My composure was a mess
I was miles from tenderness
It was dark outside, the day it was broken in pieces
Everything is flat and dreary
I couldn’t care what’s in the news
Television is the blues
Television is hysterical laughter of people
And I know it could be me
I’m always asking for more
I keep running round in circles
I keep looking for a doorway
I’m going to need two lives
To follow the paths I’ve been taking

[Comte Arnau]

http://jamesleejobe.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/downtown-cold.jpg?w=545

In the cold light of morning,
while everyone's yawning,
you're high.
In the cold light of morning,
the party gets boring,
you're high.
As your skin starts to scratch and wave yesterday's action goodbye...
Forget past indiscretions and stolen possessions,
you're high.

In the cold light of morning ,
You're drunk sick from whoring and high.
Staring back from the mirrors,
A face that you don't recognise:
It's a loser, a sinner,
a cock in a dildo's disguise.
In the cold light.

Tomorrow is only a kettle.
Whistle,
Whistle,
Whistle
Away...

In the cold light of day.

Placebo

[Jedthehumanoid]

Garden party held today
Invites call the debs to play
Social climbers polish ladders
Wayward sons again have fathers

Edgy eggs and queuing cumbers
Rudely wakened from their slumbers
Time has come again for slaughter
On the lawns by still "Cam" waters

Champagne corks are firing at the sun again
Swooping swallows chased by violins again
Straafed by Strauss they sulk in crumbling eaves again
Oh God not again!

Aperitifs consumed en masse display
Their owners on the grass
Couples loiter in the cloisters
Social leeches quoting Chaucer
Doctor's son a parson's daughter
Where why not and should they oughta

Please don't lie upon the grass
Unless accompanied by a fellow
May I be so bold as to perhaps suggest Othello
Punting on the Cam is jolly fun they say
Beagling on the downs, oh please do come they say
Rugger is the tops, a game for men they say
They say, good God they say

Angie chalks another blue
Mother smiles she did it too
Chitters chat and gossips lash
Posers pose, pressmen flash, flash
Smiles polluted with false charm
Locking on to Royal arms
Society columns now ensured
Returns to mingle with the crowds
Oh what a crowd

Marillion