When it all came down on a Saturday night, should I choose a side at 9th and Pine?

When it all came down on a Saturday night, should I choose a side at 9th and Pine?
And you’re leaving me, yeah you’re leaving me. You’re leaving me with a hated identity.
Too much walking, shoes worn thin. Too much trippin’ and my soul’s worn thin.
You wanna hear about my new obsession? I’m riding high upon a deep depression. I’m only happy when it rains.
She’s just a cosmic girl, from another galaxy.
You’re perfect in the way, a perfect end today.
Bass in your face, not an eight track, gettin’ it good to the wood so the people give you some a dat.
Just say I’m all alone, just say where am I going? Just say the phone rang once today for a wrong number.
I know it’s up for me if you steal my sunshine.
And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb, looking for a little hope.
I’m big and important – one angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces for you.
This crowd is tight, tight. Gonna party all night, night.
Wake up in the morning and it’s hard to live.
I will never be satisfied until it ends in tears.
It’s educational.
Gonna get drunk, don’t you have no fear – I want one bourbon, one scotch, one beer.
Volcano girls, we really can’t be beat – warm us up and watch us blow.
You know with love comes strange currencies, and here is my appeal.
Wherein we examine the most important question of our time: what is the most Wes Anderson movie song ever?
Just a perfect day, you made me forget myself. I thought I was someone else, someone good.
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yay, gimme the mic so I can take it away.
They said it was such a good time for everyone to not get along. And how was everyone so right if only everyone was wrong?
Look into the wall of my mind’s eye. I think I know but I don’t know why. The questions are the answers you might need.
I’m so tired of playing, playing with this bow and arrow. Gonna give my heart away, leave it to the other girls to play.
I got that tunnel vision going through my head.
UH-HUH HUH, HEH HEH YEAH… but no, this is actually, like, a really great album. Like seriously (UH HUH YEAH).
Don’t you know I’m loco?
Exchange our fears for little glass holes and broken dreams of bent-backed trolls.
Linoleum supports my head – gives me something to believe.
The Humpty Dance is your chance to do the hump.
In my eyes, indisposed, in disguises no one knows, hides the face, lies the snake, and the sun in my disgrace.
And I don’t understand why I sleep all day, and I start to complain that there’s no rain.
Capturing beauty of something as precious as life.
Now I’m a start collecting props, connecting plots. Networking like a conference, ‘cause the nonsense is yet to stop.
I need a change in my life, and I need it right now. Good or bad, it doesn’t really matter how.
So why is The Breeders’ Pod on this best 1,000 albums ever thing? I’m pretty sure the first time I heard a song by The Breeders was by way of 120 Minutes, MTV’s great Sunday […]
Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople, been a long time gone, Constantinople, now it’s Turkish delight on a moonlit night.
Gotta watch those corners in the stretch of danger, a problem could arise eventually. I’ve walked this earth for twenty years and now my mind is floating out to sea.
Rust in the mountain, rust in the brain, the air is sacred here in spite of your claim.
You know this boogie is for real.
Well up came that first cat, he said, “Man, look at that! Man do you see what I see?”
Why are you listening to all the things they tell you every day? Why are you listening, what happened to your own mind anyway?
On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat and a red right hand.
The future’s in our present hands. Let’s reach right in, let’s understand.
Graffin’ up in L.A. you can’t act stupid and play, striking up in the hood could mean your last day.
Must I forever be a beggar whose golden dreams will not come true? Or will I go from rags to riches? My fate is up to you.
Common ruse, dirty face, pretty noose is pretty hate, and I don’t like what you got me hanging from.
Smack, crack, bushwhacked, tie another one to your back, baby. Hey kids, rock and roll, nobody tells you where to go, baby.
Who took the bomp from the bompalompalomp? Who took the ram from the ramalamadingdong?
Brothers front, they say the Tribe can’t flow, but we’ve been known to do the impossible like Broadway Joe.
Well, I’ll be darned, shiver me timbers yo, head for the hills! I picked a weeping willow, and a daffodil.
We question one accessory: don’t think the piece is necessary. We agree you’re dressed to kill, but wonder if you will.
Lump lingered last in line for brains, and the one she got was sorta rotten and insane. Small things so sad that birds could land – is lump fast asleep or rockin’ out with the band?
Something in the way she never looks my way, I’m in love, I’m in love.
Time to take a ride, time to take it in a midnight eye. And if you want to go, get on below.
It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up! magazine, Salt-n-Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine.
Guys you know you better watch out – some girls are only about that thing, that thing, that thing.
My soul is sound when I’m in my hometown, yeah, and no place I’d rather be.
In she came with the same type game, the type of girl giving out the fake cell phone and name.
I feel so alone – gonna end up a big ol’ pile of them bones.
I’ve been crowned the King of Id, and Id is all we have, so wait to hear my words and they’re diamond sharp.
Sell your soul and sign an autograph – big bang baby, it’s a crash, crash, crash.
Just when things seemed the same, and the whole scene is lame, I come and reign with the unexplained for the brains ‘til things change.
You know, I’ve made mistakes. I’ve had my ups and downs, my ins and outs, my share of bad breaks. But when it’s all been said and done, I raise my beer and I swear, “God, it’s been fun!”
You got the touch, you got the power. When all hell’s breaking loose, you’ll be riding the eye of the storm.
It’s only human nature, pollutes temptation. We have reserved bookings for the fathers of our nation.
Every time I come here I’m not sure what to say. I know it should be easy but it never seems that way.
Free your mind and the rest will follow. Be color blind: don’t be so shallow.
I used to walk in the shade with those blues on parade.
Watching the parade with pinpoint eyes full of smoldering anger.
Faster than the speed of light, she’s flying, trying to remember where it all began.
I won’t play ball, won’t do as I’m told. I’d rather be a square peg in a round hole.
It’s pure pop joy, pure joy joy. Okay?
You’re all I think about and everywhere I look, I know it’s bad, but we could be so good.
Heed what this wise man says: stay away from redheads.
They can’t hear a word that we’ve said, when we pretend that we’re dead.
Keep my real light shining.
Destroyed by MTV, I hate to bite the hand that feeds me.
The mic is cast to the floor and shapeshifted. Heavy as the hammer of Thor you can’t lift it.
Lord Finesse and DJ Mike Smooth dial up the number of the funky technician!
Hey kid! What do we got? Not a lot. So what?
Get down, get DOWN.
We got the money! We got the money now!
The band that I feel I should really like more but… erases the but.
I’m the king of bongo baby, I’m the king of bongo.
An exquisitely executed dose of grungy riot grrl punk rock.
It’s the riot grrl drama you’ve been craving.
You think it’s funny but what I say is true.
Much like Fashion Nugget, I will survive. Yeah yeah.
Plug in and get supercharged anywhere you like with this massive 244 song compilation.
Some bands and some albums hit a bunch of my musical sweet spots at once.
Another tremendous album from the cult of Frank Black.
In which I make the case for this exceptionally talented band from Binghamton, New York.
The Rage is relentless, in three parts.
Highly unique yet strangely comforting? Just ask the king of the carrot flowers.
Stripped down, subtle, sinister, superior hip hop.
Some albums are better than others.
Alt rock with an ironic edge that still nonetheless rocks.
Fight the power, indeed.
There’s something about the vibe that takes me back to the Nag’s Head pub in Rochester, Kent.