The Zgeek Lyrics Challenge

[Something Fast]

Here's an idea for a fun time waster ( originally devised by TheDeliciousMystery on the gamefaqs poetry and lyrics board) .
Suggest a title or few, and someone else tries to write a song or poem with that as the title.
I don't know if I really explained that very well, but there you go.
Now, someone get those brainmeats going and think up some titles to start us off...

Go on, do it for the dancing bananas...
:banana: :banana: :banana:

[Thyrd]

Unknowing Thinker
Fight the fight thats wrong

I'm just throwing out titles I would use...

[The Avatar]

FIGHT THE FIGHT THATS WRONG


I fight a fight within myself,
A fight I see will last,
A fight that takes my being,
A fight Im losing fast.

The opponent looks at me with rage,
I feel scared knowing whats to come,
Inside this unescapable steel cage,
My hands lay spent and dumb.

This fight I fight,
I have already lost,
Knowing this I hit the floor,
As I give up the ghost.


Yeah I know, it sucks, but I wrote it on the fly so fuck orf!!!

[Aardvark]

Yeah I know, it sucks, but I wrote it on the fly so fuck orf!!!

Dunno how to sing
I cannot play guitar
I'm in a garage band
I know I won't go far

Chrous:
This song is not that good
Infact it reeks to the sky
Yeah, I know it sucks
But I wrote it on the fly

SO FUCK ORF

Heavy guitar riff here

Got ourselves a pub gig
It pays a hundred bucks
Had to dodge a beer bottle
'Cause people thought we suck

Chorus

Daddy bought me x-mas stuff
Some recording software
Burnt my first EP, y'know but
Seven coasters just ain't fair

Chrous

Sent it to a record label
See if I've got a hit
In the meantime, the bandmembers left
'Cause they think I'm shit

chrous then fade out

Fuckin' blow me, arsemonkeycakes

[Zan]

Fight the fight that's wrong

I was bored one sunday morning
my penis, already sore
following a couple of links
I found the zgeek forum: war

'this could be fun', I thought
'let's play a game of wits'
'how long can I bait the members'
'and give them all the shits?'

I donned my best avatar
I primed the rhetoric machine
I set to work on a 'holy quest'
To Lick George's Arse Clean...

That's all I've got at the moment.

[gertie]

*to be screamed in pseudo-punk style, with lots of drums*
haven't left the house in days
been coughing up my guts
can not find a job that pays
because i dont suck nuts

the greatest job description blows
no wonder i get no breaks
boss' attitude really shows
Fuckin blow me arsemonkeycakes

[Something Fast]

From a previous lyrics challenge on another forum (updated and revised)

Green Autumn (2004)

She's afflicted by putrescence,
And bioluminescence,
But I know tonight I'm going to score.
It's true Dear Abby,
My darling's so scabby,
She's been dead for a year or more.

Mouldy thighs,
As I surmise,
Are what gets my engine started.
But Death once dead,
Take it as read,
The legs are so easily parted.

There's no refrigeration,
No kind of preservation,
Keeping my love intact.
She's falling to pieces,
She's food for the mices,
And I like it that way, in fact.

She doesn't talk back,
But her skin tends to crack,
If I leave her out in the rain.
Her leathery skin,
And cute rictus grin,
And the hole I made in her brain.

It's one of the first things I ever attempted, so I've got a soft spot for it, even if it is so terribly, agonisingly bad...

So yeah, here's some titles:
Green Autumn

Technophobic product support

The Gospel According to a Yobbo

[Nandragon]

That's All I got at the moment

The quitescential house wife
her heathen children, absent husband, this is her life
She cooks, she cleans, her hardwood floors gleam
but that's all she has at the moment

The rebellious child
her temper's not so mild
She runs the streets, she lies and cheats
Her family has given up, ignores her pleas
but at the moment, that's all they got.

He's a womanizer
His little black book is his bible
Of womens souls he thinks he's not liable
Women wonder what's wrong with them...
The don't understand it's him
It's all he's got to go on

[Timformation]

Green Autumn

Of course there's no such thing

Caught between the muted sheen of winter
And the gritty eyesore of a summer that refuses to die

The sky breathes blue and exhales
Gunmetal clouds to drape the raining canopy of leaves in grey veils

I watch the bright arterial spray of trees
Dry to a rusted clot across my dooryard

Branches thrust supplicating arms skyward
Weaving shadows across my wall

Supplications forming ideograms that are vaguely frightening in their no-nonsense surety

Driving me from the streets into the amber caves of pubs
Where on each huddled stool

Adventure surrenders to reverie
And romance turns pornographic

Trying to awaken clogged and restless senses
That miss the sun

The bleary exhaustion
Of animals that yearn for sleep

But are forced to wait for the wind to arrive

The sharp metallic taste
Of what's to come.

[Aardvark]

The Gospel According to a Yobbo

Spoken word hip hop bullshit to some be-boppy tune

All rise and turn your TV guides to Sunday. Blessed is the Cricket, for childrens programming and lifestyle programs make way for it's glory. And as we pray to the Legends of cricket, Bradman, Boarder and Boony, let us take a moment to relfect upon the passing of the Footy season and how those fucking doggies deserved death.

Now, let us take a reading from the Book of Davo, as it hasn't been made into a movie yet. Those who can't keep up, wing it

"And Lo, for the Lord Davo did hold out his hands and did dial the divine number. And as was his will, hot pizza and cold beer did arrive in precisely 30 minutes, else he would have refused payment. And Davo said unto his followers, "Take this beer and Pizza, mates. The title fight is about to start. And let us give thanks for the Cable and it's many many sports channels and pay-per-view events"

Now let us join in song to the holiest of hymns, "Thunderstruck", by the holy choir of AC/DC as we partake of the holy double burbon and coke. as is our custom