Ataraxia---Astral Projection
What are you listening to now? Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
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- KVRAF
- 8140 posts since 26 Jul, 2018
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- KVRAF
- 8140 posts since 26 Jul, 2018
Klaxons---Echoes
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WatchTheGuitar WatchTheGuitar https://www.kvraudio.com/forum/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&u=440193 - KVRAF
- 13256 posts since 30 Apr, 2019
This was the credits music at the end of the Doom Patrol season finale. Hadn’t heard it in ages.
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- KVRAF
- 8140 posts since 26 Jul, 2018
I remember buying the 12" of it 
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- D.H. MOD
- 17954 posts since 21 Jun, 2008
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- addled muppet weed
- 111338 posts since 26 Jan, 2003 from through the looking glass
bent - chocolate wings.
does anyone know a more beautiful sounding song about buttfuckery?
does anyone know a more beautiful sounding song about buttfuckery?
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- KVRAF
- 16136 posts since 13 Nov, 2012
Nothing, too busy recording new music.
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- KVRAF
- 16136 posts since 13 Nov, 2012
You and my mother....
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- KVRAF
- 16136 posts since 13 Nov, 2012
Sam Stone - John Prine
The most beautifully depressing songs ever written.
Sam Stone came home
To his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas
And the time that he served
Had shattered all his nerves
And left a little shrapnel in his knees
But the morphine eased the pain
And the grass grew round his brain
And gave him all the confidence he lacked
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears
Don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And Sam, he took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears
Don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
Well, he played his last request
While the room smelled just like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
But life had lost its fun
There was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears
Don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
The most beautifully depressing songs ever written.
Sam Stone came home
To his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas
And the time that he served
Had shattered all his nerves
And left a little shrapnel in his knees
But the morphine eased the pain
And the grass grew round his brain
And gave him all the confidence he lacked
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears
Don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And Sam, he took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears
Don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
Well, he played his last request
While the room smelled just like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
But life had lost its fun
There was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose
Little pitchers have big ears
Don't stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Last edited by PatchAdamz on Sat Nov 13, 2021 11:24 am, edited 1 time in total.