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Pastimes : A CENTURY OF LIONS/THE 20TH CENTURY TOP 100 -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: MulhollandDrive who wrote (1215)11/2/1999 12:04:00 PM
From: Neocon  Respond to of 3246
 
That is exactly what keeps going through my head.....



To: MulhollandDrive who wrote (1215)11/2/1999 12:43:00 PM
From: Neocon  Respond to of 3246
 
One reason why I might put on the Velvet Underground:

Femme Fatale
------------
(Reed)

Here she comes, you better watch your step
She's going to break your heart in two, it's true
It's not hard to realize
Just look into her false colored eyes
She builds you up to just put you down, what a clown

'Cause everybody knows (She's a femme fatale)
The things she does to please (She's a femme fatale)
She's just a little tease (She's a femme fatale)
See the way she walks
Hear the way she talks

You're put down in her book
You're number 37, have a look
She's going to smile to make you frown, what a clown
Little boy, she's from the street
Before you start, you're already beat
She's gonna play you for a fool, yes it's true

'Cause everybody knows (She's a femme fatale)
The things she does to please (She's a femme fatale)
She's just a little tease (She's a femme fatale)
See the way she walks
Hear the way she talks




To: MulhollandDrive who wrote (1215)11/2/1999 12:44:00 PM
From: Neocon  Respond to of 3246
 
Another great VU song:

All Tomorrow's Parties
----------------------
(Reed)

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
To all tomorrow's parties

And where will she go and what shall she do
When midnight comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns
To all tomorrow's parties

And what will she do with Thursday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown
For whom none will go mourning

A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown
Of rags and silks, a costume
Fit for one who sits and cries
For all tomorrow's parties



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