Now the king told the boogie men
You have to let that raga drop
The oil down the desert way
Has been shakin’ to the top
The Sheik he drove his Cadillac
He went a-cruisin’ down the ville
The muezzin was a-standing
On the radiator grille
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, Rock the Casbah
By order of the prophet
We ban that boogie sound
Degenerate the faithful
With that craazy Casbah sound
But the Bedouin they brought out the electric camel drum
The local guitar picker got his guitar-picking thumb
As soon as the Shareef had cleared the square
They began to wail
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, Rock the Casbah
Now, over at the temple
Oh, they really pack ‘em in
The in-crowd say it’s cool
To dig this chanting thing
But as the wind changed direction
Then the temple band took five
The crowd caught a wiff
Of that crazy Casbah jive
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, Rock the Casbah
The king called up his jet fighters
He said you better earn your pay
Drop your bombs between the minarets
Down the Casbah way
As soon as the Shareef was chauffeured outta there
The jet pilots tuned to the cockpit radio blare
As soon as the Shareef was outta their hair
The jet pilots wailed
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it
Rock the Casbah, Rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it, he thinks it’s not kosher
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it, fundementally can’t take it
Rock the Casbah, Rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it, you know he really hates it
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah
Shareef don’t like it, really, really hates it
I rebloged a few of my newer posts with less than 200 notes, sorry about kinda, I don’t know what to call it. Spam posting? Either way, enjoy
I’m no good at RPing, like, painfully awkward, so I’d suggest trying someone else
Should I reblog a couple of my newer photosets that have less than 100 notes, because I believe they typically deserve more, those artists did a great job
My bone throne is gonna take you to the bone zone
Tumblr is acting very different, and posts are uploading no problem, it’s great!
I want to give/have some oral, like, now, any female followers wanna send me some nudes on kik? If not that’s cool too.
As I was walkin’ down Grosvenor Square,
Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air,
From the other direction she was calling my eye,
Could be an illusion but I might as well try, might as well try.
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes,
And I knew without askin’ she was into the blues.
She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls,
I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls.
In the heat of the evening when the dealin’ got rough,
She was too pat to open and too cool to bluff.
As I picked up my matches and was closin’ the door,
I had one of those flashes, I’d been there before, been there before.
Well I ain’t often right but I’ve never been wrong,
Seldom turns out the way it does in the song.
Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right.
Well there ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way she moves,
All scarlet begonias or a touch of the blues.
And there’s nothing wrong with the look that’s in her eyes
I had to learn the hard way to let her pass by, let her pass by.
The wind in the willow’s playing “Tea for Two,”
The sky was yellow and the sun was blue,
Strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand,
Everybody’s playing in the heart of gold band, heart of gold band.
Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air
You better watch out
There may be dogs about
I’ve looked over Jordan and I have seen
Things are not what they seem.
What do you get for pretending the danger’s not real
Meek and obedient you follow the leader
Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel
What a surprise!
A look of terminal shock in your eyes
Now things are really what they seem
No, this is no bad dream.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want
He makes me down to lie
Through pastures green he leadeth me the silent waters by
With bright knives he releaseth my soul
He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places
He converteth me to lamb cutlets
For lo,m he hath great power and great hunger
When cometh the day we lowly ones
Through quiet reflection and great dedication
Master the art of karate
Lo, we shall rise up
And then we’ll make the bugger’s eyes water.
Bleating and babbling we fell on his neck with a scream
Wave upon wave of demented avengers
March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream.
Have you heard the news?
The dogs are dead!
You better stay home
And do as you’re told
Get out of the road if you want to grow old.