Red Mosquito

Whiskey Whiskey on the shelf
You were so quiet there by yourself
things were fine till they took you down
and opened you up and passed you around....

2 can be as bad as 1
It's the loneliest number since the number 1

DERRRRRRR

That whole song is weird!

Over imported trees
All the film ghosts will rise up
With the sexually abused and the new youth
In Britain the scream of electric pumps in a renovated pub
Your stomach swells up before you get drunk
Don't call me Peter I can't go
Salem's just up the road
I've got work to do
Hail the new puritan
Out of hovel-cum-coven-cum-oven
Hail the new puritan
Out of hovel, cum-coven, cum-oven
And all hard-core fiends
Will die by me
And all decadent sins
Will reap discipline
New puritan
I curse your preoccupation
With your record collection
New puritan has no time
It's only music, John
New puritan
Ungodly mass
Thick ass

Forty-seven push-ups
In a winter-rate
Seaside motel

I feel like Travis Bickle
I’m listening to “Highway to Hell”

I'm thinking 'bout going back to the country
I'm thinking 'bout going back for some air
I'm thinking 'bout how we used to be friends
I wanna tell you being up there
So I'm writing you this song I wanna send you
In this room that I'm tryna keep clean
It's time we overhear you by the whole punch
In the deaf nothing you could sleep

You know that I'm incapable of changing
Some people just get stuck in their ways
Never thought it'd be me locked
They say I was meant to be brave

The only thing about missing you
Is that I don't miss you at all
'Til now, I'm still thinking about you
Since you stopped returning my calls, oh

I think it's a little bit different now
I got a boyfriend and I got a sight
I know the one really cares about me
And at least half the other one tries
Sometimes I still think about dying
No, not the fear but the want
Not quite as much as I did back then
But it's still something I'm trying to work on

You know that I'm incapable of changing
Some people just get stuck in their ways
Never thought it'd be me locked
They say I was meant to be brave

But I think about going back to the country
I think about going back for some love
I think about how I can't remember your face
But I know that I used to see it everywhere

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications
Especially at night
I worry over situations that...
I know it'll be alright
It's just overkill.

I’m a boxcar I’m a racer I’m a flagon of port   
I’m a pinger I’m a fuck boy I’m a Canberra Rort

You think you know who I am
I’ll snort a bag for lunch and then I’ll hit the cans

Fuck you, buddy

warehouse wrote:Fuck you, buddy

At first I thought this was a personal attack at me. A little googling led me to the song that I assume you are quoting here.

I'm not a big Tool guy but I enjoyed discovering this particular verse:

"Well now I've got some
Advice for you, little buddy
Before you point the finger
You should know that I'm the man
I'm the man and you're the man
And he's the man as well
So you can point that fuckin' finger up your ass"

Fuck you, buddy indeed.

And we get to start you yourself fodder fodder
When I'm not ready fodder fodder
I'll eat, and you'll eat fodder fodder
And as I'm eating you'll eat fodder fodder
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder fodder
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fuel
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And I'll eat fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And the moon can be seen fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And so it was fodder fodder fodder, fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And so, I took fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And so, my horse was fodder fodder fodder, fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And the moon can be seen fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And so, my horse was fodder fodder fodder, fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And you, fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder fodder
And you, fodder fodder

There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirming like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let the children play
If you give this man a ride
Sweet family will die
There's a killer on the road

Someday is gonna find you in a sweeter place
Long after time has earsed
All the words like razor blades
You'll remember you and me before the flood
Once upon a time in love, a beautiful us
I can see you on some stretch of sand
Spinning round in circles barefoot dancin' in
A better rain

Ello Sailor wrote:Charge me your day rate
I'll turn you out in kind
When the moon is round and full
Gonna teach you tricks that'll blow your mongrel mind

Why leave me hanging on a star
When you deem me so high