Right in Two by Tool.

It’s all good but here’s a juicy verse:

"Monkey killing, monkey killing monkey over pieces of the ground.

Silly monkeys, Give them thumbs, they make a club To beat their brother down.

How they’ve survived so misguided is a mystery.

Repugnant is a creature who would squander the ability To lift an eye to heaven, conscious of his fleeting time here."

Love, Ire, and Song by Frank Turner

Well a teacher of mine once told me That life was just a list of disappoints and defeats And you could only do your best, And I said “That’s a fucking cop-out, you’re just washed up and your tired, and when I get to your age I won’t be such a coward” But these day I sit at home, known to shout at my TV And Punk Rock didn’t live up to what I hoped that it could be And all the things that I believed with all my heart when I was young Are just coasters for beers and clean surfaces for drugs And I packed all my pamphlets with my bibles at the back of the shelf Well it was bad enough the feeling, and the first time it hit When you realized your parents had let the world all go to shit And that the values and ideals for which many had fought and died Had been killed off in the committees and left to die by the wayside But it was worse when we turned to the kids on the left And got let down again by some poor excuse for protest Yeah by idiot fucking hippies in 50 different factions Who are locked inside some kind of 60’s battle re-enactment And I hung-up my banner in disgust and I head for the door Oh but once we were young, and we were crass enough to care But I guess you live and learn, we won’t make that mistake again, no Oh but surely just for one day, we could fight and we could win And if only for a little while, we could insist on the impossible Well we’ve been a good few hours drinking So I’m going to say what everyone’s thinking If we’re stuck on this ship and it’s sinking Then we might as well have a parade Cos if it’s still going to hurt in the morning And a better plan’s set to get forming Then where’s the harm spending an evening In manning the old barricades, So come on old friends to the streets Let’s be 1905 but not 1917, Let’s be heroes, let’s be martyrs, let’s be radical thinkers Who never have to test drive the least of their dreams Let’s divide up the world into the damned and safe And then ride to the valleys like the old life brigade And straighten our backs and we won’t be afraid And they’ll celebrate our deaths with a national parade So come on let’s be young, let’s be crass enough to care Let’s refuse to live and learn, let’s make all our mistakes again yes And then darling, just for one day, we can fight and we can win And if only for a little while, we could insist on the impossible Leave the mourning the to the morning Yeah pain can be killed With aspirin tablets and vitamin pills But memories of hope, and glorious defeat Are a little bit harder to beat

You can blow out a candle

but you can’t blow out a fire.

Once the flames begin to catch

the wind will blow it higher.

… And the eyes of the world are watching now.

They are the last lyrics of Biko, by Peter Gabriel. The way he sings those lyrics as the song builds toward the end hits me every time I hear it. The last line is sung after a slight pause, and it sounds like a veiled threat to the leaders of South Africa that killed Stephen Biko. Also, it didn’t take a long time for change to happen in South Africa after the event, but when he wrote the song it was still several years away. So at the time it was still wishful thinking that “the wind would blow the flames higher”.

“A hero cannot be defeated simply by making him die”

Victorious Eagle Warfare by Gloryhammer

Morals ain’t a substance you can shove in someone’s ear,

They’re basically a byproduct of a mind thinking clear…

• The Plan, NOFX.

And when you said "you can’t call those people cnts", well you cant call those cnts “those people”

• Those People, Frenzal Rhomb

Deep, I know. But it shows that (in my country) it’s more acceptable to call some one a c*nt than group them as “those people”

An impossible task, choosing a favorite. So I’ll just go with the first one that came to mind:

Goodness Gracious, by Kevin Gilbert (RIP). It’s pretty dated, but a lot of it is still relevant today.

Goodness Gracious is there nothing left to say?

When the ones that get to keep looking

Are the ones that look away

It’s pabulum for the sleepers

In the cult of brighter days

Goodness Gracious at the mercy of the crooks

We’re broke and stroking vegetables

And there’s way too many cooks

In every pot a pink slip, In every mouth a hook

Goodness Gracious I’m not listening anymore

Cause the spooks are in the White House

And they’ve justified a war

So wake me when they notify

We’re gonna fight some more

Goodness Gracious not many people care

Concern is getting scarcer

True compassion really rare

I can see it on our faces. I can feel it in the air

Goodness Gracious me

Goodness Gracious my generation’s lost

They burned down all our bridges

Before we had a chance to cross

Is it the winter of our discontent or just an early frost?

Goodness Gracious of apathy I sing

The baby boomers had it all and wasted everything

Now recess is almost over

And they won’t get off the swing

Goodness Gracious we came in at the end

No sex that isn’t dangerous, no money left to spend

We’re the cleanup crew for parties

We were too young to attend

Goodness Gracious me

Goodness Gracious my grandma used to say

The world’s a scary place now

Things were different in her day

What horrors will be commonplace

When my hair starts to grey?

Follow men’s eyes as they look to the skies, the shifting shafts of shining weave the fabric of their dreams…

Neil Peart of Rush, Jacobs ladder

Not sure if it’s the ‘best’ I’ve ever heard but this line sticks with me. .

Girls own the void!
Let’s make some noise
Don’t leave the house without a party bag, check this!
I’m still a princess, I can curtsy, I can beat you at tetris!
Girls own the void!
Let’s make some noise
Don’t leave the house without a party bag, check this!
I’m still a princess when there’s nothing left to wear

From Girls by Patricia Taxxon

I really like the lyrics for Epitaph, by King Crimson.

This isn’t easy because so many songs have lyrics that I love. But if I absolutely had to choose one, I would choose Don’t Let Me Come Home A Stranger by Robin and Linda Williams. The lyrics are hauntingly beautiful.

Light as a feather when I’m floatin’ through Readin’ through the daily news Measuring the hurt within the golden rule Centimetres of ether I’m heatin’ the speaker Motivational teacher with words that burn people Seeing the headlines lined with discord It’s either genocide, all the planet in uproar Never good but rules of paradise are never nice The best laid plan of mice and men are never right I’m just a vagabond with flowers for Algernon The average Joe who knows what the fuck is goin’ on It’s the hope of my thoughts that I travelled upon Fly like an arrow of god until I’m gone So I’m driftin’ away like a feather in air Lettin’ my words take me away from the hurt and despair So I’m keepin’ it vertical forever elevator Ridin’ the escalator to the somethin’ that is greater So I’m driftin’ away like a feather in air Lettin’ my words take me away from the hurt and despair So I’m keepin’ it vertical forever elevator Ridin’ the escalator to the somethin’ that is greater Taking chances, word tap dancing with wolves In an ice arena out there, deep in the woods of Arizona The sun be high, life’s ironic Ain’t tryin’ to be Talib when I write Surreal life I paint it vivid habitat crazy insane Watch the propaganda six o’clock news that are saying Cultures clash for black folk and white trash They revel in the cyberspace that might crash Dash to millineum a million miles of runnin’ At the speed of now back don’t return gunnin’ Rambo style gunho child gunnin’ Ammo blao two times loud stunnin’ Stunnin’ when I hit ya lift you off the earth like Ayo, take you right back to birth And niggaz wonder why they might wonder why This shit might happen but it does, they go Driftin’ away like a feather in air Lettin’ my words take me away from the hurt and despair So I’m keepin’ it vertical forever elevator Ridin’ the escalator to the somethin’ that is greater So I’m driftin’ away like a feather in air Lettin’ my words take me away from the hurt and despair So I’m keepin’ it vertical forever elevator Ridin’ the escalator to the somethin’ that is greater Treat you better than me because that’s the heavenly key To unlock the inner strength where my essence will be It’s the knowledge of self understanding of the things around me That becomes the wisdom that I need Living this life to the best of my ability Channelling energy to my thoughts into your symmetry Remember me because my clothes remain gold I got the gift of gab like them pimps in Kangols It never ends I keep it rulin’ like a cypher The first caveman bringin’ fire Innovating and higher to blast mistakes I raise the stakes It’s double or nothing in this vacuumless space I will survive, divine the time to cry Fuck a hold or hide I’m alive with pride And I drove the Chevy to the levy But the levy was dry singin’, “This will be the day that I die”

The Weakerthans - This Is A Fire Door, Never Leave Open

---

I still hear trains at night when the wind is right I remember everything Lick and thread this string

That will never mend you or tailor more Than a memory of a kitchen floor Or the fire door that we kept propping open

And I love this place: the enormous sky And the faces, hands that I’m haunted by So why can’t I forgive these buildings These frameworks labeled home?

---

There’s something so incredibly evocative about the lyrics to this track, of which I’ve just posted a few because otherwise no one will read an entire block of song lyrics.

John K. Samson is, in my opinion, one of the finest poets and songwriters of his generation. He’s loved by those who know him, but otherwise completely unknown, and I consider that a tragedy.

I mean, ffs, he wrote four songs about a cat, and they’re one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. There’s a line in the second song, ‘Virtute The Cat Explains Her Departure’;

I can’t remember the sound you found for me

which is Virtute admitting that she can’t remember her name, and doesn’t know how to get home. That makes me well up every damn time.

It’s impossible to choose a best, so I’ll instead share a song whose lyrics I enjoy and connect with. It’s “Out of My Depth,” by Hot Chip. They’re a band whose lyrics are often deep and meaningful, despite having a lot of fun “upper” music. I like this song because I’m prone to wallowing lol and it’s a good reminder not to do so too much. It’s ultimately a hopeful song.

When I’m in my darkest place, I must be careful not to dwell there

When I’m headed for the ditch, I must be careful not to sleep there

While I might enjoy the peace, there are other lights that call me

And although I’m out of the race, I know that something good must befall me

And when I’m swimming out of my depth, and I can barely see the crest of a wave that might destroy me

I must look for what I can’t see

I must reach for what doesn’t touch me

I must leave my lonely space and make time my only enemy

I must seek what can’t be bought and make choices that support me

And the friends who fall apart from the crumbling walls that divide me

And when I’m swimming out of my depth and I can barely see the crest of a wave that might engulf me

Then I’m in my darkest room, but I’m careful not to enjoy it all too much

But as I leave, it will be helpful to have endured it

I must be careful not to trip, not to fall as I continue

But my darkest place is in me, and there’s something there that calls me

(edit: improved formatting)

Grötüs - Brown

Sky not a roof Ground not a bottom

All this is not yours You are the world’s

Pourquoi cette pluie pourquoi?

Cette eau, ces nuages qui nous étonnent

Elle dit : cette pluie tu vois

Ce sont des pleurs pour les yeux des hommes

C’est pour vous donner des larmes

Depuis trop longtemps elles ont séché

Les hommes n’oublient pas les armes

Quand ils ne savent plus pleurer

Coule pluie coule sur nos fronts

Idir, Pourquoi cette pluie ?

Translation:

Why this rain, why?

This water, these clouds that surprise us

She says: this rain, you see

They are cries for men’s eyes

This is to give you tears

Since so much time they dried up

Men don’t forget weapons

When they no longer know how to cry

Let rain flow, let rain flow on our foreheads

Edit: make the message clearer