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Author Topic: What's on your Paste?  (Read 544410 times)

Tavros

  • he was hello
« Reply #1800 on: June 12, 2013, 09:09:35 PM »
You forgot Mega Man and Giygas.
read jitsu wa watashi wa

« Reply #1801 on: June 12, 2013, 09:48:34 PM »
YYur  waYur n beYur you Yur plusYur instYur an Yur Yur whaYur

« Reply #1802 on: June 13, 2013, 12:32:38 AM »
Blacker than a moonless night, hotter and more bitter than hell itself... that is coffee.

Luigison

  • Old Person™
« Reply #1803 on: June 13, 2013, 01:57:34 PM »
“Evolution has shaped us with perceptions that allow us to survive. But part of that involves hiding from us the stuff we don’t need to know."

« Reply #1804 on: June 13, 2013, 03:38:14 PM »
^ why I buy everything online
Now with grandeur.

« Reply #1805 on: June 13, 2013, 03:58:48 PM »
^ Your CT is showing.
YYur  waYur n beYur you Yur plusYur instYur an Yur Yur whaYur

« Reply #1806 on: June 13, 2013, 04:46:37 PM »
Now with grandeur.

« Reply #1807 on: June 13, 2013, 04:49:46 PM »
You'd think it would be hard to derail a topic where everybody just presses ctrl-v.

« Reply #1808 on: June 13, 2013, 04:51:43 PM »
Grandeur made me do it.
Now with grandeur.

Tavros

  • he was hello
« Reply #1809 on: June 13, 2013, 04:53:10 PM »
You should be renamed Grandeur.
read jitsu wa watashi wa

« Reply #1810 on: June 13, 2013, 05:18:02 PM »
Blacker than a moonless night, hotter and more bitter than hell itself... that is coffee.

« Reply #1811 on: June 13, 2013, 05:25:05 PM »
"Lots of Pics"
YYur  waYur n beYur you Yur plusYur instYur an Yur Yur whaYur

The Chef

  • Super
« Reply #1812 on: June 13, 2013, 05:51:09 PM »

WarpRattler

  • Paid by the word
« Reply #1813 on: June 14, 2013, 01:02:21 AM »

« Reply #1814 on: June 14, 2013, 03:07:53 AM »
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.
YYur  waYur n beYur you Yur plusYur instYur an Yur Yur whaYur

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