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Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Party party party, honeys. Rockafella guitar strumming solo hero. He claps thunder from the top of mountains with his technical country jigs. People cheer from below amid the glorious blue light falling onto the ground from his strobe light suitcase. There is always an audience below holding hands to the homely tunes. No-one has heard them before but they are familiar to their open hearts. He drifts across the ranch on his cloud Cadillac, his spit bucket spawns gold coins collected by invisible country pixies, not the domesticated ones that give birth under the stairs but far-out cultured screaming ones.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
When the sweeping rain soaks him through, he makes sure he finishes his number for the people. Stomping in the puddles according to the mood of the lightning he emits. He is wanted by the sheriff for his criminal music talent and the reward is a “private concert with the singersongwr iterdancerpantominequeenex traordanairejackofalltrades, himself”. The most photographed person in the history of the world. He stands on the sought-after plateau which rises from the floor every time he plays a deep note. The rising from the floor, making him above and beyond us. A winged stallion swearing an oath of honour to him.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
The students of thebrokenheart high school buys his records! To look at his grace and want him on first-sight is to accept that you’re sad about not being loved by him because he is the guardian of the world. His quaver smile idolised by millions. A western riff, a dynamic second chord, an ample sound summing up the good life of the rural get-togethers. A leather jacket, your favourite motorcycle, yourself and the long open road babeh! He causes widespread panic when that golden smile cracks behind the look-good neutral casual face. His footprints on eroded farmland transform it to a golden grain, special enough to harvest sacred beans.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Billy Joe Jive!!! Slips and slides on the dancefloor. Screeching across with his soulful presence and devasting looks. Dancing at the peak of his own personal mountain range with the whole country community being rumbled in the valley below. A granule wheat flavoured guitar is on hand. He summons it with one precipitous flick of the finger. His guardian guitar, together at last. He performs heroic solos on a cliff-edge to save the children and be aknowledged for being a charity worker and a huried housewife sympathiser. If things need sprucin’ he jumps down the special slide made from piano keys and thrusts past the notes creating balanced musical literature.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Looking through them thick, black shades at the sky he discusses life whilst the stars up there are priveledged to be in his presence. Campfires and cultural stories depicting traditional values. He flys from town to town on a cloud of musical notes, enlighting those of his tweaked tempo and beats. A humble smile to the admiring crowd when he caught those notorious thieves. The front page is dedicated to him, the superstar living phenomenon. Protected by a spiritual flame which keep the good vibes spreading through the valley.
Oh The Joy, Being Alive In The Times Of Billy Joe Jive!!!
Party party party, honeys. Rockafella guitar strumming solo hero. He claps thunder from the top of mountains with his technical country jigs. People cheer from below amid the glorious blue light falling onto the ground from his strobe light suitcase. There is always an audience below holding hands to the homely tunes. No-one has heard them before but they are familiar to their open hearts. He drifts across the ranch on his cloud Cadillac, his spit bucket spawns gold coins collected by invisible country pixies, not the domesticated ones that give birth under the stairs but far-out cultured screaming ones.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
When the sweeping rain soaks him through, he makes sure he finishes his number for the people. Stomping in the puddles according to the mood of the lightning he emits. He is wanted by the sheriff for his criminal music talent and the reward is a “private concert with the singersongwr iterdancerpantominequeenex traordanairejackofalltrades, himself”. The most photographed person in the history of the world. He stands on the sought-after plateau which rises from the floor every time he plays a deep note. The rising from the floor, making him above and beyond us. A winged stallion swearing an oath of honour to him.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
The students of thebrokenheart high school buys his records! To look at his grace and want him on first-sight is to accept that you’re sad about not being loved by him because he is the guardian of the world. His quaver smile idolised by millions. A western riff, a dynamic second chord, an ample sound summing up the good life of the rural get-togethers. A leather jacket, your favourite motorcycle, yourself and the long open road babeh! He causes widespread panic when that golden smile cracks behind the look-good neutral casual face. His footprints on eroded farmland transform it to a golden grain, special enough to harvest sacred beans.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Billy Joe Jive!!! Slips and slides on the dancefloor. Screeching across with his soulful presence and devasting looks. Dancing at the peak of his own personal mountain range with the whole country community being rumbled in the valley below. A granule wheat flavoured guitar is on hand. He summons it with one precipitous flick of the finger. His guardian guitar, together at last. He performs heroic solos on a cliff-edge to save the children and be aknowledged for being a charity worker and a huried housewife sympathiser. If things need sprucin’ he jumps down the special slide made from piano keys and thrusts past the notes creating balanced musical literature.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Looking through them thick, black shades at the sky he discusses life whilst the stars up there are priveledged to be in his presence. Campfires and cultural stories depicting traditional values. He flys from town to town on a cloud of musical notes, enlighting those of his tweaked tempo and beats. A humble smile to the admiring crowd when he caught those notorious thieves. The front page is dedicated to him, the superstar living phenomenon. Protected by a spiritual flame which keep the good vibes spreading through the valley.
Oh The Joy, Being Alive In The Times Of Billy Joe Jive!!!
Harpoon Nipples wrote:
> Ah yes but you get so much anal suckey suckey by random strangers it
> won't bother you.
Ah, true enough. It's always nice
> Me however...oh poor me...no-one likes me.
>
> aha
But you have me ... obviously worth 10000000006 of any other.
Oh please, won't you read it?
> Ah yes but you get so much anal suckey suckey by random strangers it
> won't bother you.
Ah, true enough. It's always nice
> Me however...oh poor me...no-one likes me.
>
> aha
But you have me ... obviously worth 10000000006 of any other.
Oh please, won't you read it?
Harpoon Nipples wrote:
> Mental age of 0.7 seconds. Yes?
Eh?
> Mental age of 0.7 seconds. Yes?
Eh?
Ah yes but you get so much anal suckey suckey by random strangers it won't bother you.
Me however...oh poor me...no-one likes me.
aha
Me however...oh poor me...no-one likes me.
aha
Meh, I still get nigh on 0.
I made 3 topics in chat t'other day - 3 gloriously random spewlings, with about 5 replies between them.
Why us?
I made 3 topics in chat t'other day - 3 gloriously random spewlings, with about 5 replies between them.
Why us?
Colourless wrote:
> HAd you added an "l" onto the end of the name in the title,
> I might have read it......
......
Mental age of 0.7 seconds. Yes?
> HAd you added an "l" onto the end of the name in the title,
> I might have read it......
......
Mental age of 0.7 seconds. Yes?
A week later. Shows how far down a legend can go after what? Three months.
There we go ... that's the stuff.
OH! yeah ... baby
OH! yeah ... baby
Had you added an "L" onto the end of the name in the title, I might have read it......
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Party party party, honeys. Rockafella guitar strumming solo hero. He claps thunder from the top of mountains with his technical country jigs. People cheer from below amid the glorious blue light falling onto the ground from his strobe light suitcase. There is always an audience below holding hands to the homely tunes. No-one has heard them before but they are familiar to their open hearts. He drifts across the ranch on his cloud Cadillac, his spit bucket spawns gold coins collected by invisible country pixies, not the domesticated ones that give birth under the stairs but far-out cultured screaming ones.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
When the sweeping rain soaks him through, he makes sure he finishes his number for the people. Stomping in the puddles according to the mood of the lightning he emits. He is wanted by the sheriff for his criminal music talent and the reward is a “private concert with the singersongwr iterdancerpantominequeenex traordanairejackofalltrades, himself”. The most photographed person in the history of the world. He stands on the sought-after plateau which rises from the floor every time he plays a deep note. The rising from the floor, making him above and beyond us. A winged stallion swearing an oath of honour to him.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
The students of thebrokenheart high school buys his records! To look at his grace and want him on first-sight is to accept that you’re sad about not being loved by him because he is the guardian of the world. His quaver smile idolised by millions. A western riff, a dynamic second chord, an ample sound summing up the good life of the rural get-togethers. A leather jacket, your favourite motorcycle, yourself and the long open road babeh! He causes widespread panic when that golden smile cracks behind the look-good neutral casual face. His footprints on eroded farmland transform it to a golden grain, special enough to harvest sacred beans.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Billy Joe Jive!!! Slips and slides on the dancefloor. Screeching across with his soulful presence and devasting looks. Dancing at the peak of his own personal mountain range with the whole country community being rumbled in the valley below. A granule wheat flavoured guitar is on hand. He summons it with one precipitous flick of the finger. His guardian guitar, together at last. He performs heroic solos on a cliff-edge to save the children and be aknowledged for being a charity worker and a huried housewife sympathiser. If things need sprucin’ he jumps down the special slide made from piano keys and thrusts past the notes creating balanced musical literature.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Looking through them thick, black shades at the sky he discusses life whilst the stars up there are priveledged to be in his presence. Campfires and cultural stories depicting traditional values. He flys from town to town on a cloud of musical notes, enlighting those of his tweaked tempo and beats. A humble smile to the admiring crowd when he caught those notorious thieves. The front page is dedicated to him, the superstar living phenomenon. Protected by a spiritual flame which keep the good vibes spreading through the valley.
Oh The Joy, Being Alive In The Times Of Billy Joe Jive!!!
Party party party, honeys. Rockafella guitar strumming solo hero. He claps thunder from the top of mountains with his technical country jigs. People cheer from below amid the glorious blue light falling onto the ground from his strobe light suitcase. There is always an audience below holding hands to the homely tunes. No-one has heard them before but they are familiar to their open hearts. He drifts across the ranch on his cloud Cadillac, his spit bucket spawns gold coins collected by invisible country pixies, not the domesticated ones that give birth under the stairs but far-out cultured screaming ones.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
When the sweeping rain soaks him through, he makes sure he finishes his number for the people. Stomping in the puddles according to the mood of the lightning he emits. He is wanted by the sheriff for his criminal music talent and the reward is a “private concert with the singersongwr iterdancerpantominequeenex traordanairejackofalltrades, himself”. The most photographed person in the history of the world. He stands on the sought-after plateau which rises from the floor every time he plays a deep note. The rising from the floor, making him above and beyond us. A winged stallion swearing an oath of honour to him.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
The students of thebrokenheart high school buys his records! To look at his grace and want him on first-sight is to accept that you’re sad about not being loved by him because he is the guardian of the world. His quaver smile idolised by millions. A western riff, a dynamic second chord, an ample sound summing up the good life of the rural get-togethers. A leather jacket, your favourite motorcycle, yourself and the long open road babeh! He causes widespread panic when that golden smile cracks behind the look-good neutral casual face. His footprints on eroded farmland transform it to a golden grain, special enough to harvest sacred beans.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Billy Joe Jive!!! Slips and slides on the dancefloor. Screeching across with his soulful presence and devasting looks. Dancing at the peak of his own personal mountain range with the whole country community being rumbled in the valley below. A granule wheat flavoured guitar is on hand. He summons it with one precipitous flick of the finger. His guardian guitar, together at last. He performs heroic solos on a cliff-edge to save the children and be aknowledged for being a charity worker and a huried housewife sympathiser. If things need sprucin’ he jumps down the special slide made from piano keys and thrusts past the notes creating balanced musical literature.
Hey Ho Dive, Billy Joe Jive!!!
Looking through them thick, black shades at the sky he discusses life whilst the stars up there are priveledged to be in his presence. Campfires and cultural stories depicting traditional values. He flys from town to town on a cloud of musical notes, enlighting those of his tweaked tempo and beats. A humble smile to the admiring crowd when he caught those notorious thieves. The front page is dedicated to him, the superstar living phenomenon. Protected by a spiritual flame which keep the good vibes spreading through the valley.
Oh The Joy, Being Alive In The Times Of Billy Joe Jive!!!