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Old 03-10-2012, 07:43 PM   #11 (permalink)
Living under the bridge
 
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Unsure of a name for this one yet. I want to be a bit more creative than just calling it "lonely man" or something, even though that's the main hook. Any suggestions?




3. He's a lonely man,
Running out of plans,
He counts all his friends,
On only one hand

Wine woman and song,
Up all night long,
That material life,
As he went along

Da da da da-da da
He didn't have the time
Da da da da-da da
He thought love was a crime
Da da da da-da da
Forever on his own
Da da da da-da da
The lonely man alone

His wife ran away,
Oh she didn't stay,
With that greedy jerk,
Focused on his pay

Capitalism,
No brains or wisdom,
That's what a man needs,
His kids just left him

Da da da da-da da
The lack of the love
Da da da da-da da
He said kids that's just tough
Da da da da-da da
He's always on his own
Da da da da-da da
The lonely man's alone

No more happy family,
Greed ended it for you and me,
And now the man is getting old,
Oh the clutch of death is so cold

Da da da da-da da
Da da da da-da da
Da da da da-da da
Da da da da-da da

The lonely man's alone
Da da da da-da da
Too many deals and loans
Da da da da-da da
Got no reason to moan
Da da da da-da da
He did this on his own
Da da da da-da da
The lonely man alone
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Old 03-24-2012, 09:28 PM   #12 (permalink)
Living under the bridge
 
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The idea for this one came to me when I was walking through some of the suburbs in my local city. The three verses came to me after seeing firstly some children in a playground (verse 1), a sad looking teen (verse 2), and two men drinking beer in their backyards. I kind of elaborated on their stories a bit, trying to paint a picture of lives that will really go nowhere.

4. Walking on The Footpath

Walking on the footpath,
The children they look at me,
They just don't understand,
They saw but they cannot see.

The kids don't walh the path,
But perhaps they may in years,
I'll let them keep their dreams,
Before they all turn to fears.

As I walk on the footpath

Walking on the footpath,
I see a young teenage man,
Fear, angst and confusion,
This lad don't no where he stands.

His path has just begun,
Say goodbye to care free days,
Still working out the course,
To take and show the way.

And I'm walking on the footpath

Walking on the footpath,
Seeing men filled with beers,
Greedy, selfish, bastards,
They bring their wives to tears.

But they don't really care,
They don't notice them at all,
The've taken the wrong way,
Never realising I'm sure.

But I'm still walking on the footpath

And I don't really know,
Why life happens this way,
Sometimes it makes me cry,
When I ask myself why?...

...am I still walking on the footpath.
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Old 04-07-2012, 07:28 AM   #13 (permalink)
Living under the bridge
 
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I wrote this one a few months back now, after seeing a bearded busker singing Starman by David Bowie on one of my local streets. The sad thing was he had earnt very little money and it was almost the end of the day. It made me stop for a moment and think about how privileged many people in Western Countries really are.

5. Street Busking Man

I walk down through the city streets,
An old man he looks in my eyes,
Guitar strumming and tapping feet,
I listen to his harsh cries,

He's a street busking man,
Only a street busking man

His six string is only friend,
I feel sad for him as he tries,
Those tales of heartbreak and the end,
And all those people they despise

That street busking man,
The old street busking man

Those kids on the street look away,
They like the sounds of the modern day,
This man sings of those years ago,
The kids don't want to hear him no...

Not that street busking man,
Goddamned street busking man,

Now as the dusk falls,
He packs his guitar away,
Oh he feels so small,
There's no money earnt today

Oooh oh oh oooh oh oh

For the street busking man,
Poor old street busking man,
That sad street busking man,
Tragic street busking man

Oooh oh oh oooh oh oh

The street, busking, man...
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