[FredZarguna]

Strange beautiful, grass of green
with your majestic silver seas
Your mysterious mountains I wish to see closer
May I land my kinky machine?

Although your world wonders me,
with your majestic and superior cackling hen
Your people I do not understand,
so to you I shall put an end
And you'll
never hear
surf music again
Secret
Oh, secret
Oh
Shhh

[dayglored]

> ... never hear surf music again ...

Thank you! I haven't had Third Stone stuck in my brain in a long time, and its return is very welcome. In my teens in the latter-60's that was my anthem, my garage band covered it rather well, and one summer day rehearsing in the driveway outside the house, I finished a 15-minute version of the tune by smashing my guitar in a trance. Ah, youth. I'll have strange dreams tonight, for sure.

Again, thank you!

[Bloody Sam Roberts]

Ah freddled gruntbuggly,

Thy micturations are to me,

As plurdled gabbleblotchits,

On a lurgid bee,

That mordiously hath blurted out,

Its earted jurtles,

Into a rancid festering confectious organ squealer. [drowned out by moaning and screaming]

Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,

Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,

And living glupules frart and slipulate,

Like jowling meated liverslime,

Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,

And hooptiously drangle me,

With crinkly bindlewurdles,

Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,

See if I don't.