I propose that we write a song and record it.

I am ready, so GETT ON THE MUTHAFUCKING ACCELARATOR and we'll hit it!

 

right on man!

 

Can i furnish you with paste?
can I write a song that lacketh taste?
or will my efforts be un-sung
Does a saint related to behung

Do U let the loving phlow
do you quibble or do u know
a saint elected is undermined
a love that soars is realized

The shadows hide the sunrised gloom
I want this darkness to encapsulate the room
and tingle forth without a scare

Should I shaveth off my girsl pu**y hare?

 

here is an example of a great tune:


Promised Land


(Words & music by Chuck Berry)
I left my home in Norfolk Virginia
California on my mind
I straddled that Greyhound
And rode into Raleigh
And on across Caroline

We had motor trouble that turn into a struggle
Halfway across Alabam'
And that hound broke down and left us all stranded
In downtown Birmingham

Right away I brought me a through train ticket
Ridin' across Mississippi clean
And I was on that midnight flyer out of Birmingham
Smoking into New Orleans

Somebody help me get out of Louisiana
Just to help me get to Houston Town
There are people there who care a little about me
And they won't let the poor boy down

Sure as you're born brought me a silk suit
Put luggage in my hand
And I woke up high over Alburquerque
On a jet to the promised land

Working on a T-bone steak a la carte
Flying over to the golden state
Ah when the pilot told us in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate

Swing low chariot come down easy
Taxi to the terminal zone
Cut your engines and cool your wings
And let me make it to the telephone

Los Angeles give me Norfolk Virginia
Tidewater four ten o nine
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling
And the poor boy is on the line

Working on a T-bone steak a la carte
Flying over to the golden state
Ah when the pilot told us in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate

Swing low chariot come down easy
Taxi to the terminal zone
Cut your engines and cool your wings
And let me make it to the telephone

Los Angeles give me Norfolk Virginia
Tidewater four ten o nine
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling
And the poor boy is on the line



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you find some error in Promised Land Lyrics,
would you please submit your corrections to me? Thank You.
Thanks to Juan-Andres IGLESIAS trans_toledojunction@compuserve.com for submitting the lyrics.

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