Voice_of_the_Soul12,13,01

Not my best song, but I kind of find it humorous. The title was a nickname for one of our other songs that we didn't know what to do with.


(Quote=George Carlin piece on advertisement and consumerism; music kicks on at "... actually, it's our way of saying, 'bend over just a little bit further, so we may stick this big advertisement **** in a little bit deeper (chord hit), and a little bit deeper (strum), a little bit deeper!'"

Verse:

Slave of the mistress
The dominatrix hold
On your knees groveling
Vomiting your gold

They feed
On your need
They take
What you make

Chorus:

They're on a sodomy conquest
A campaign of rape and pillage
They're on a sodomy conquest
Consumers, the prey in their rampage

Breakdown;

Bend over
Bend over
Bend over
Bend over

(Bend over)Their gonna rape you!
(Bend over)
(Bend over)Break you with false luxury!
(Bend over)

Chorus:

They're on a sodomy conquest
A campaign of rape and pillage
They're on a sodomy conquest
Consumers, the prey in their rampage

(Quote=Lewis Black; story about "where does the universe end" and the 2 Starbucks across from each other)

Verse:

Slave of the mistress
The dominatrix hold
On your knees groveling
Vomiting your gold

They feed
On your need
They take
What you make

Chorus:

They're on a sodomy conquest
A campaign of rape and pillage
They're on a sodomy conquest
Consumers, the prey in their rampage

Outro:

[(Bend Over) Their on a sodomy conquest] Their gonna
[(Bend Over) A campaign to rape and pillage] rape you!
[(Bend Over) Their on a sodomy conquest] Break you with
[(Bend Over) Consumers, the prey in their rampage] false luxury!

Start Player

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When the day of Judgment comes, no value for human life or blind visions of peace will save you. Your strength or lack of will determine your right to live.

PaperHurricanesAndPlanes

I'll crit this later. Props on the Carlin quote though.

Lame angsty punk lyrics. How original. Still like the Carlin quote though.

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Say what again motherfucker, I double dare you, say what one mo' goddamned time!

Voice_of_the_Soul12,13,01

If anyone cares, I just finished writing the music for it.

Start Player

__________________
When the day of Judgment comes, no value for human life or blind visions of peace will save you. Your strength or lack of will determine your right to live.

dirt mcgirt

****, only clicked on this cos i thought it said sodomy contest son.

berv

agreeeeeeed

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If you could only see the pain that hides behind these eyes.

Voice_of_the_Soul12,13,01

Why? Did you think you could win? Crasy fool. I'm lord of the bum.

__________________
When the day of Judgment comes, no value for human life or blind visions of peace will save you. Your strength or lack of will determine your right to live.

cardboard adolescent

I'm confused, is all your work instrumental? In any case, I think if you got some Tiny Tim type vocals going on this would be the greatest **** ever.

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Voice_of_the_Soul12,13,01

Well, firstly, the songs I have aren't actual recordings. I exported the Guitar Pro files to WAV, then converted them to MP3. So that's why there aren't any vocals.


Plus, we don't have a vocalist.


And who is Tiny Tim?

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When the day of Judgment comes, no value for human life or blind visions of peace will save you. Your strength or lack of will determine your right to live.

right-track

Tim Cratchit aka 'Tiny Tim'... is a fictional character in the classic story 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens.
He is the son of Bob Cratchit. The character is said to be based on the invalid son of a friend of Dickens who owned a cotton mill in Ardwick, Manchester.
In the story, Tim is crippled and very ill, near to the point of death. Nevertheless, he is a very happy boy and is very much loved by his parents; he is best known for the line, "God bless us, every one!"
His illness could be easily cured with the right money; however, Cratchit's low wage from Ebenezer Scrooge does not provide the funds to do so, and Cratchit dares not ask Scrooge for help.



"'No, no. There's father coming,' cried the two young
Cratchits, who were everywhere at once. 'Hide, Martha, hide.'

So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father,
with at least three feet of comforter exclusive of the fringe,
hanging down before him; and his threadbare clothes darned
up and brushed, to look seasonable; and Tiny Tim upon his
shoulder. Alas for Tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch, and
had his limbs supported by an iron frame.

Hella Gangsta.

__________________
Choose Liverpool. Choose the dole queue. Choose to scam disability benefit. Choose mind-numbing, grinding efficiency over flair. Choose Torben Piechnik, Istvan Kozma and Paul Stewart. Choose not to win a single league title since the backpass rule was implemented. Choose penalties. Choose car stereos, hubcaps and stanley knives. Choose to trade on your proud sense of tradition and then not lift a finger in protest when two American billionaires who don't even know the name of your club decide to buy it. Choose to win the European Cup whilst only having to play seven matches. Choose to bask in a perpetual, sickening, media love-in. Choose celebrities who **** off out of your city as soon as they have earned the money to do so and then spend the rest of their lives harping on about how wonderful it is. Choose to sing about Munich until confronted with your own tragedy. Choose to end it all in an orgy of self pity, just another excuse to perpetuate the grief culture spawned by your selfish, insular ****ed-up excuse for a city. Choose your future. Choose Scouse.

cardboard adolescent

^ foo

tiny tim: http://www.pcdon.com/-TinyTim-TiptoeThruTheTulips.wav

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