Like my fate, my soul-the faithless mind
Fever-grows in empty veins
And just the garden that awaits...
...With my ancient life, unknown crimes
Deadly »
...in the Garden
Astronomicon
by Without Face
|
Good Planets are hard to find now
Temp'rate zones and tropic climes
True currents in thriving seas
Winds blowin' through breathing trees »
Good Planets Are Hard to Find
Rocking Horse Head
by Steve Forbert
|
And people twenty stories down
Colored currents in the street
A helicopter lands on the Pan Am roof
Like a dragonfly on a tomb
And business men in button »
Harry's House -- Centerpiece
The Hissing of Summer Lawns
by Joni Mitchell
|
of the night,
He steals through your garden,
Gives your hosiery a fright,
And doesn't say pardon.
As soft as a breeze,
With an arm full of underwear,
On his »
In the Middle of the Night
One Step Beyond
by Madness
|
And people twenty stories down
Colored currents in the street
A helicopter lands on the Pan Am roof
Like a dragonfly on a tomb
And business men in button »
Harry's House/Centerpiece
Misses
by Joni Mitchell
|
look at her back,
And your hair stands on its ends.
And maybe she leads you to a garden and invites
You to release your lips and bite
Through all that »
Northern Lights
Counterpoint
by Jason Webley
|
the Reaper's on the set
Each word spring a cold current, to hurt niggaz
like old warrants, make an MC, life insurance
plots unfold that rock moles and rock souls »
Unexplained
The Pick, the Sickle and the Shovel
by Gravediggaz
|
I'm born in
Cut and paste alertness to current settings provided quick
Shimmy the pirate ship mass, spot the island, sound the siren
And about face »
Garbage
Float
by Aesop Rock
|
Dear then, I'm writing from the now
Trying to steer this crooked zen somewhere else and warn your crowds
The current date somewhat irrelevant, I »
Time Capsule
Celestial Clockwork
by Vast Aire
|
the currency we currently intense like great sex
You make bets before you gamble your life away
On mics I break up vets like fights
Crumble up rookies like »
Hard Margin
The Weight
by Talib Kweli
|
Godzilla
Whether guilt is a skrilla, Franks or banks, five pence or ten cents
Whatever the currency we currently intense like great sex
You make bets »
The Hard Margin [Street Version]
Hard Margin
by Talib Kweli
|
| BTW, Why won't you become an editor? |
