Storm Lyrics

[Charlotte (Darkside)]

[spoil]But I've dug this deep
So I think in for a penny, in for a pound [/spoil]


I love the way he says this bit.

[Liza (wickedlibrarian)]

I recently read Sam Harris' "Letter to a Christian Nation" and although it was just preaching to the choir for me (ha!) it offered a lot of really well-constructed arguments that I now use in quite annoying ways toward all my christian-believing friends.

And to answer SamBarge's question, I'm betting it's very likely that if Tim hasn't read Sam Harris, then he's at least familiar with his writing.

[Linzy]

[spoil]But I've dug this deep
So I think in for a penny, in for a pound [/spoil]

[spoil]Everyone's just staring
But I figure I've dug this far down
So I think in for a penny, in for a pound.[/spoil]

[/pedant]

[Charlotte (Darkside)]

[spoil]But I've dug this deep
So I think in for a penny, in for a pound [/spoil]

[spoil]Everyone's just staring
But I figure I've dug this far down
So I think in for a penny, in for a pound.[/spoil]

[/pedant]

Alright so I actually love the way he says that bit. I can't remember any lyrics but as soon as I see them I know exactly the way in which they were said. Skill.

[Simone]

Twice as long to live this life of mine... Twice as long to love my wife of mine

Edited....

[kateweb]

Everyone's contributions, edited slightly with some additional bits - still nowhere near complete or accurate though! There are a couple of large chunks (possibly whole verses) missing early on, plus links between some of the lines we've got.

[spoil]In a top floor, north London flat
With white walls, white ceilings, white cat
Rice paper partitions
Modern art and ambitions
The host's a physician
Lovely chap - has his own practice
His girlfriend's an actress
An old mate of mine from home
And they're always great fun
So to dinner we've come

The fifth guest's an unknown
The hosts have just thrown us together as a favour
Cos this girl's just arrived from Australia
And she's the sister of someone
Or has some connection
And as we make introductions
I'm struck by her beauty
She's irrefutably fair
With dark eyes and dark hair
But as we sit I admit I'm a little bit wary
As I notice the tip of a wing of a fairy
Tattooed on that popular area
Just above the derrière
And when she says, "I'm Sagittarian"
I confess a pigeonhole starts to form
And is immediately filled with pigeon
When she says her name is
Storm.

[No idea what comes here!]

When Storm says, in re
Of some un-hippily empirical comment made by me
“All science is just opinion”
She opines over her Cabernet Sauvignon
I resist the temptation to ask
If knowledge is so loose-weave of a morn
When she opts to leave her apartment by the door
Rather than the window on the second floor.

And Storm, while avoiding all meat, happily sits and eats [Not sure that’s in the right place]
While our host, slightly pissedly,
Sits and hold court
About some anachronistic aspect of medical history.

“Science falls in a hole
When it tries to explain the soul
Or auras, or love……” [something like that?]

On the other side of the room my wife widens her eyes
Silently begs me "Be nice"
A marital warning not worth ignoring
[Something about the host’s girlfriend]
They know there is a chance
That I'll be off on my rare but fun rants

I just want to enjoy the meal.
I have no interest in rocking the boat.
But like her metereological namesake,
Storm seems to have no such concerns for our vessel.

[Something else here]
“Pharmaceutical companies promote drug dependency,
At the expense of the natural remedies all our bodies need.
Why take drugs when herbs can solve it?
Why take (something) when a homeopathic solvent can resolve it?”

By definition, alternative medicine
Has either not been proved to work -
Or been proved not to work.
You know what they call alternative medicine
That’s been proved to work? Medicine.

“So you don’t believe in any natural remedies?”
On the contrary; I took one before we came out to tea.
Something derived from the bark of a willow tree
It had a weird name - Darling, what's it called?
Basprin, masprin...oh, that’s right – Aspirin.
Paid about a buck for it at the local drug store.

[Something else here]

I'm aware that I'm staring
I'm like a rabbit caught in the headlights
Of an on-coming [something] of vacuous crap.
She's firing off lines with startling precision
Like a sniper using bollocks for ammunition

“You’re just closed-minded. I think you’ll find
That your belief in science is just as blind
As the belief of any fundamentalist.”
That’s a good point; wait, let me think for a bit.
Oh no, that’s right – it’s complete bullshit.
Science changes its view according to what’s observed –
Faith is the denial of observation.

Show me that something works and how it works,
And I will change my mind -
I’ll be shocked as hell, but I will spin on a fucking dime.
Run through the streets shouting
“Take physics and bin it -
Water has memory!”
Yet while its memory of a drop of onion juice seems infinite
It can somehow forget all the poo it's had in it.
And when I’ve got over the shock,
I'll take a compass and carve “fancy that” on the side of my cock.

[Something else here]

“There are more things in heaven and earth
Than exist in your philosophy.”
Maybe it was the fifth glass of wine I just quaffed
Or the Shakespeare she just misquothed
But a crack starts to appear in my diplomacy dyke.

[Don’t know where this should go…] Groaning, like an arsehole held back by its stones.

Yes, the world is full of mystery
But there are answers out there
And they will not be found
By people sitting around
Saying “Isn’t this mysterious?”
Every mystery ever solved,
Has turned out to be – not magic.

Did you ever see Scooby Doo?
That show was so cool!
Every time there was a ghost, or a ghool
They'd look behind the mask
And who would they find?
The fucking janitor
Or the dude who ran the waterslide.

Look, Storm, I don't mean to bore you
But there's no such thing as an aura
Reading auras is like reading minds
Or tealeaves or star signs or meridian lines
These people aren't plying a skill
They're either lying or mentally ill
Same as those people who claim to hear God's demands
Or spiritual healers who think they’ve got magic hands.
And while we're at it
Why do we think it's OK
For people to say they can talk to the dead?
Isn't that totally fucked in the head?
Lying to some crying woman whose child's just died
And telling her you're in touch with the other side.
I think that's fundamentally sick.
And while we’re at it, what makes you think
That the dead would
Want to talk to pricks like John Edward?
Do we need to clarify that there's no such thing as a psychic?
What are we? Fucking two?
Do we actually think that Horton heard a Who?
Do we still believe that Santa brings us gifts?
That Michael Jackson didn't have facelifts?

[Something else in here]
Everyone’s just staring at me now,
But I figure I've dug this far down,
So I think “In for a penny, in for a pound!”

[Something else in here]
Does the possibility that there might be knowledge [something] you?
Does the idea that an afternoon on wika-fucking-pedia
Might enlighten you, frighten you?
(something about blowing your hippy noodle)
[Something] of your inability to Google?

If you’re so into your Shakespeare
Lend me your ear, my Tempest.
“To gild refined gold
To paint the lily,
To throw perfume on the violet
Is just fucking silly...”
Or something like that

And what about Satchmo?
"I see trees of green, red roses too"
Or if you want to glorify Vishnu and Shiva
In a bottled-up, colonial type way,
Well that’s fine too, but [something else here]

Isn't this enough? Just this?
This beautiful, complex, mysterious natural world?
Here’s what gives me a hard-on -
Thanks to recent medical advances
I get to live twice as long as my great-great uncles and auntses.

Twice as long to live this life of mine.
Twice as long to love this wife of mine.
Twice as long of friends and wine
Of [something] and sharing curries
And getting shitty at good-looking hippies
With butterflies on their spines
And flowers on their titties.

And if perchance I have offended
Think but this and all is mended -
We might as well be ten minutes back in time
For all the chance you'll change your mind.[/spoil]

[Inflatable [Millie]]

shakespeare references!!!!

[Simone]

Hurray....I knew we could do it if we put our heads together.

I think Shell or annawaits would be able to help a bit too.

That made me happy <---see!

[Simone]

Sorry about the double post...

[spoil]

a marital warning *not* worth ignoring

...can't think of where this bit goes...

Just this?
This beautiful, complex, mysterious natural world?
Here’s what gives me a hard-on -
Thanks to recent medical advances
I get to live twice as long as my great-great uncles and auntses.

Just remembered this bit:

I am a tiny insignificant, ignorant bit of carbon, which fits in before the hard-on bit^

And also...

As the host clears plates I'm struck by her beauty...

I can't think of how he describes her....something about dark eyes and dark hair?[/spoil]

[Linzy]

[spoil]As the host clears plates I'm struck by her beauty...

I can't think of how he describes her....something about dark eyes and dark hair?[/spoil]

That bit's in the second verse, which I've already written pretty much word for word

[Simone]

So you have....

[spoil]He says this though which hasn't been added:

Everyone's glaring
And I admit that I'm staring...

Okay so it's only one line bust still....[/spoil]

[Linzy]

You do have something though. I think we've missed:

[spoil]The debate briefly abates
As the hosts collect plates[/spoil]

[CassieMae]

you guys are ace

[Linzy]

you guys are ace

I'll tell you who's ace - Tim is.

[spoil][align=left]
Inner North London, top floor flat
All white walls, white carpet, white cat,
Rice Paper partitions
Modern art and ambition
The host’s a physician,
Lovely bloke, has his own practice
His girlfriend’s an actress
An old mate from home
And they’re always great fun.
So to dinner we’ve come.

The 5th guest is an unknown,
The hosts have just thrown
Us together for a favour
Cos this girl’s just arrived from Australia
And has moved to North London
And she’s the sister of someone
Or has some connection.

As we make introductions
I’m struck by her beauty
She’s irrefutably fair
With dark eyes and dark hair
But as she sits
I admit I’m a little bit wary
Cos I notice the tip of the wing of a fairy
Tattooed on that popular area
Just above the derrière
And when she says “I’m Sagittarien”
I confess a pigeonhole starts to form
And is immediately filled with pigeon
When she says her name is Storm.

Chatter is initially bright and light hearted
But it’s not long before Storm gets started:
“You can’t know anything,
Knowledge is merely opinion”
She opines, over her Cabernet Sauvignon
Vis a vis
Some unhippily
Empirical comment by me

“Not a good start” I think
We’re only on pre-dinner drinks
And across the room, my wife
Widens her eyes
Silently begs me, Be Nice
A matrimonial warning
Not worth ignoring
So I resist the urge to ask Storm
Whether knowledge is so loose-weave
Of a morning
When deciding whether to leave
Her apartment by the front door
Or a window on the second floor.

The food is delicious and Storm,
Whilst avoiding all meat
Happily sits and eats
While the good doctor, slightly pissedly
Holds court on some anachronistic aspect of medical history
When Storm suddenly she insists
“But the human body is a mystery!
Science just falls in a hole
When it tries to explain the the nature of the soul.”

My hostess throws me a glance
She, like my wife, knows there’s a chance
That I’ll be off on one of my rants
But my lips are sealed.
I just want to enjoy my meal
And although Storm is starting to get my goat
I have no intention of rocking the boat,
Although it’s becoming a bit of a wrestle
Because - like her meteorological namesake -
Storm has no such concerns for our vessel:

“Pharmaceutical companies are the enemy
They promote drug dependency
At the cost of the natural remedies
That are all our bodies need
They are immoral and driven by greed.
Why take drugs
When herbs can solve it?
Why use chemicals
When homeopathic solvents
Can resolve it?
It’s time we all return-to-live
With natural medical alternatives.”

And try as hard as I like,
A small crack appears
In my diplomacy-dike.
“By definition”, I begin
“Alternative Medicine”, I continue
“Has either not been proved to work,
Or been proved not to work.
You know what they call “alternative medicine”
That's been proved to work?
Medicine.”

“So you don’t believe
In ANY Natural remedies?”

“On the contrary actually:
Before we came to tea,
I took a natural remedy
Derived from the bark of a willow tree
A painkiller that's virtually side-effect free
It’s got a weird name,
Darling, what was it again?
Masprin?
Basprin?
Asprin!
Which I paid about a buck for
Down at my local drugstore.

The debate briefly abates
As our hosts collects plates
but as they return with desserts
Storm pertly asserts,

“Shakespeare said it first:
There are more things in heaven and earth
Than exist in your philosophy…
Science is just how we’re trained to look at reality,
It can’t explain love or spirituality.
How does science explain psychics?
Auras; the afterlife; the power of prayer?”

I’m becoming aware
That I’m staring,
I’m like a rabbit suddenly trapped
In the blinding headlights of vacuous crap.
Maybe it’s the Hamlet she just misquothed
Or the eighth glass of wine I just quaffed
But my diplomacy dike groans
And the arsehole held back by its stones
Can be held back no more:

“Look , Storm, I don’t mean to bore you
But there’s no such thing as an aura!
Reading Auras is like reading minds
Or star-signs or tea-leaves or meridian lines
These people aren’t plying a skill,
They are either lying or mentally ill.
Same goes for those who claim to hear God’s demands
And Spiritual healers who think they have magic hands.

By the way,
Why is it OK
For people to pretend they can talk to the dead?
Is it not totally fucked in the head
Lying to some crying woman whose child has died
And telling her you’re in touch with the other side?
That’s just fundamentally sick
Do we need to clarify that there’s no such thing as a psychic?
What, are we fucking 2?
Do we actually think that Horton Heard a Who?
Do we still think that Santa brings us gifts?
That Michael Jackson hasn’t had facelifts?
Are we still so stunned by circus tricks
That we think that the dead would
Wanna talk to pricks
Like John Edwards?

Storm to her credit despite my derision
Keeps firing off clichés with startling precision
Like a sniper using bollocks for ammunition

“You’re so sure of your position
But you’re just closed-minded
I think you’ll find
Your faith in Science and Tests
Is just as blind
As the faith of any fundamentalist”

“Hm that’s a good point, let me think for a bit
Oh wait, my mistake, it’s absolute bullshit.
Science adjusts it’s beliefs based on what’s observed
Faith is the denial of observation so that Belief can be preserved.
If you show me
That, say, homeopathy works,
Then I will change my mind
I’ll spin on a fucking dime
I’ll be embarrassed as hell,
But I will run through the streets yelling
It’s a miracle! Take physics and bin it!
Water has memory!
And while it’s memory of a long lost drop of onion juice is Infinite
It somehow forgets all the poo it’s had in it!

You show me that it works and how it works
And when I’ve recovered from the shock
I will take a compass and carve Fancy That on the side of my cock.”

Everyones just staring at me now,
But I’m pretty pissed and I’ve dug this far down,
So I figure, in for penny, in for a pound:

“Life is full of mysteries, yeah
But there are answers out there
And they won’t be found
By people sitting around
Looking serious
And saying isn’t life mysterious?
Let’s sit here and hope
Let’s call up the fucking Pope
Let’s go watch Oprah
Interview Deepak Chopra

If you’re going to watch tele, you should watch Scooby Doo.
That show was so cool
Cos every time there’s a church with a ghoul
Or a ghost in a school
They looked beneath the mask and what was inside?
The fucking janitor or the dude who runs the waterslide.
Throughout history
Every mystery
EVER solved has turned out to be
Not Magic.

Does the idea that there might be truth
Frighten you?
Does the idea that one afternoon
On Wiki-fucking-pedia might enlighten you
Frighten you?
Does the notion that there may not be a supernatural
So blow your hippy noodle
That you would rather just stand in the fog
Of your inability to Google?

Isn’t this enough?
Just this world?
Just this beautiful, complex
Wonderfully unfathomable world?
How does it so fail to hold our attention
That we have to diminish it with the invention
Of cheap, man-made Myths and Monsters?
If you’re so into Shakespeare
Lend me your ear:
“To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw perfume on the violet... is just fucking silly”
Or something like that.
Or what about Satchmo?!
I see trees of Green,
Red roses too,
And fine, if you wish to
Glorify Krishna and Vishnu
In a post-colonial, condescending
Bottled-up and labeled kind of way
That’s ok.
But here’s what gives me a hard-on:
I am a tiny, insignificant, ignorant lump of carbon.
I have one life, and it is short
And unimportant…
But thanks to recent scientific advances
I get to live twice as long as my great great great great uncles and auntses.
Twice as long to live this life of mine
Twice as long to love this wife of mine
Twice as many years of friends and wine
Of sharing curries and getting shitty
With good-looking hippies
With fairies on their spines
And butterflies on their titties.

And if perchance I have offended
Think but this and all is mended:
We’d as well be 10 minutes back in time,
For all the chance you’ll change your mind.[/align][/spoil]

[Simone]

(100 times over!)

Thanks Tim and Linzy!

*happy dance*