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You got me so I don't know what I'm doin'
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I don't know what I'm doin', now
Oh yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night
You really got me
You really got me
You really got me
See, don't ever set me free
I always wanna be by your side
Girl, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I don't know what I'm doin', now
Oh yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night
You really got me
You really got me
You really got me
Oh, no
See, don't ever set me free
I always wanna be by your side
Girl, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night
Yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I don't know what I'm doin', now
Oh yeah, you really got me now
You got me so I can't sleep at night
You really got me
You really got me
You really got me
That would be a great band name, wouldn't it?
idiot_wind wrote:
Boy oh boy...these guys sound like the Foo Fighters.
I promise you the KINKS sound 5 times better than the totally overrated Foo Fighters!
In my experience...whenever I have had enormous tits slapping my back at a Kinks concert, the chicks have usually been really fat and ugly, hence distracting from one of the greatest bands in history and totally blowing the ambience of the entire evening :^ /
I would have turned around.
Sadly, there is no emoticon for hysterical laughter heavily tinged with envy. So un-PC, MisterF. (you jammy bas... )
idiot_wind wrote:
Boy oh boy...these guys sound like the Foo Fighters.
Boy oh boy...these guys sound like the Foo Fighters.
Lazarus wrote:
The Burden
I carry this weight
like two trollops dangling from a cord
wrapped around my waist,
two sloe-eyed gamblers
pulling me to the races,
reckless, breathless, demanding
release from their cloth cage.
We three are ultimately alone
with our arguments, this tag-team of hoodlums
versus my concentration.
The distractions are clockwork—
the second hand sweeps the soft terrain
while only five fingers remain free to type,
each hand separate yet in constant exploration,
one by touch
the other by temperament.
(My sangfroid here is feigned.
Touch me now I tremble.)
Might my tumescence ever become an ethereal expansion,
elevate to a plane beyond mere biological mechanisms,
mere animal husbandry?
Not in the presence of this effervescent duo,
I doubt.
They always drag me back.
I am 2/3 horse, one part man.
Two against one.
My essence distilled fills my hands.
The Burden
I carry this weight
like two trollops dangling from a cord
wrapped around my waist,
two sloe-eyed gamblers
pulling me to the races,
reckless, breathless, demanding
release from their cloth cage.
We three are ultimately alone
with our arguments, this tag-team of hoodlums
versus my concentration.
The distractions are clockwork—
the second hand sweeps the soft terrain
while only five fingers remain free to type,
each hand separate yet in constant exploration,
one by touch
the other by temperament.
(My sangfroid here is feigned.
Touch me now I tremble.)
Might my tumescence ever become an ethereal expansion,
elevate to a plane beyond mere biological mechanisms,
mere animal husbandry?
Not in the presence of this effervescent duo,
I doubt.
They always drag me back.
I am 2/3 horse, one part man.
Two against one.
My essence distilled fills my hands.
Try googling "like two trollops dangling from a cord "
This new fangled googlie thang is amazing.
Misterfixit wrote:
Nope, that lies a little further south.
Yea except I would prefer some classic David Lee Roth lead Van Halen over the Kinks anyday!
Heaven...
He tried.
Van Halen!