Loamhedge

Started by RazorClaw, December 15, 2003, 12:55:46 PM

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Lenvar

#15
January 02, 2004, 06:25:46 PM
 I voted awful.  It was one of the worst books I've ever read, excluding Triss, which was even worse.

The Weasel Liberation Mov

#16
January 02, 2004, 10:52:05 PM
 You forgot "Don't want to read it".
Highest rank on Regular: 1st
Highest rank on Turbo: 9th

Lenvar

#17
January 02, 2004, 10:55:30 PM
 WoP, kindly address your comments to the starter of the poll.  I thought you were talking to me.  ^/~

The Voice

#18
January 06, 2004, 03:06:33 PM
 I read it all the day after Christmas. You can see he tried going a different angle with it, but until now no redwall book has really used inventions like wheelchairs. I enjoyed it a lot better then Triss, and a few other Redwall books. The problem is he has no new plots. It is always a quest or a bad guy with an army attacking. But he can't do much else, can he?  
So quiet
Another wasted night
The television steals
The conversation
Exhale
Another wasted breath
Again it goes unnoticed.

Please tell me you're
Just feeling tired
'cause if it's more than
That I feeel that I might break
Out of touch  out of time.
Please send me anything
But signals that are mixed
Cause I can't read
Your rolling eyes
Out of touch  
Are we out of time?

Close lipped
Another goodnight kiss
Is robbed of all it's passion,
Your grip
Another time, is slack
It leaves me feeling empty.

I'll wait until tomorrow
Maybe you'll feel better then
Maybe we'll be better then
So what's another day
When I can't bear
These nights of thoughts
Of going on without you
This mood of yours is temporary
It seems worth the wait
To see your smile again
Out of the corner of your eye
Won't be the only way
You'll look at me then.


-------------------------------------------------

I'm missing your bed  
I never sleep
Avoiding the spots
where we'd have to speak
And this bottle of
beast is taking me home.
I'm cuddling close
to blankets and sheets
You're not alone
and you're not discreet.
You make sure I know  
who's taking you home.
I'm reading your
note over again.
There is not a word
that I comprehend
except when you signed it
"I will love you always
and forever"

As for now I'm gonna
hear the saddest songs,
and sit alone and wonder
how you're making out
But as for me I wish that I was anywhere
With anyone
making out

I'm missing your laugh,
how did it break?
And when did your eyes
begin to look fake?
I hope you're as happy
as your pretending.
I'm missing your bed,
I never sleep.
Avoiding the spots
where we'd have to sleep.
And this bottle of
Beast is taking me home.

Your hair
It's everywhere
Screaming infidelities
Taking it's wear
------------------------------------------

Consider the odds
consider the obvious.
The martyr is meaningless
the campaign has died.
In the planning stages
and the fallen faces
are the singular proof
that it was ever alive.

This purchased rebellion
has been outdated
denounced and rescinded
and left to die championless.
I begged you not to go.
I begged you  I pleaded.
Claimed you as my only hope
and watched the floor
as you retreated.

Hope has sprung a perfect dive
a perfect day, a perfect lie.
A slowly crafted monologue
conceding your defeat.

Does it comfort you to know
you fought the good fight?
Basking in your victory,
hollow and alone
to boast your bitter
bragging rights
to anyone who'll listen.
While you're left with
nothing tangible to gain
----------------------------------------------

Whatever poisons in this bottle
will leave me broken, sore and stiff
But it's the genie at the bottom who I'm sucking at,
he owes me one last wish
So here's a present to let you know I still exist
I hope the next boy that you kiss has something terribly contagious on his lips

But I got a plan (I got a plan)
To drink for forty days and forty nights
A sip for every second-hand tick
And every time you fed the line,
?you mean so much to me?
I'm without you

Tell all the English boys you meet
about the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
who would do anything you say
Tell all the English boys you meet
about the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
who would do anything you say

And even if her plane crashes tonight
she'll find some way to disappoint me,
by not burning in the wreckage,
or drowning at the bottom of the sea
Jess, I still taste you, and thus reserve my right to hate you
And all this empty space that you create
does nothing for my flawless sense of style
It's 8:45 (it's 8:45), the weather is getting better by the hour (rains all the time)
I hope it rains there all the time
And if you ever said you miss me then don't say you never lied
I'm without you

Tell all the English boys you meet
about the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
who would do anything you say
Tell all the English boys you meet
about the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
who would do anything you say,
who would do anything you say

Never gonna get it right, you're never gonna get it [15x]

Okay no more songs about you. After this one I am done.
You're gone.[repeat untill end]

Tell all the English boys you meet
about the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
who would do anything you say
Tell all the English boys you meet
about the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
who would do anything you say
-------------------------------------------------------
Last night I swallowed liquor and a lighter
and this morning I threw up fire
But it's nothing new
I've been piecing it together and it's got something to do
with every look thrown like a knife across a crowded room
And every slow and quiet car ride I spent drinking in the backseat
Every stupid melody to every stupid song,
and every stupid word that everybody's hanging on

What difference does this difference in age make?
I know how it ends... she'll kill me quick.
Call 911, I'm already dead but
someone should be caught and held responsible
for this bloody mess

Last night I fell asleep next to a liar
and I woke up with a shiner
And it's all that I remember from a night spent lying on my back with a view
of a stone white ceiling and the back of your head
And this quiet dark bed feels like the middle of nowhere
And we beat each other up just like we always do
When I'm talking to myself I'd always rather be talking to you

What difference does this difference in age make?
I know how it ends... she'll kill me quick.
Call 911, I'm already dead but
someone should be caught and held responsible
for this bloody mess

Call homicide, take the case to court
Cause her lips taste like a loaded gun
I'm her number one chalk outline on the floor

They hung her from the bridge on Monday
The gathering turned to a mob out on the lawn
They dropped her body in the river
School and work returned to normal before long
(before long... and no one will mention any of this again)

Call 911, I'm already dead but
someone should be caught and held responsible
for this bloody mess

Call homicide, take the case to court
Cause her lips taste like a loaded gun
I'm her number one chalk outline on the floor
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I got a twenty-dollar bill
That says no one's ever seen you without makeup.
You're always made up.
And I'm sick of your tattoos
and the way you always criticize the Smiths.
and Morrissey.

And I know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic.
But when I say let's keep in touch,
I really mean I wish that you'd grow up.
This is the first song for your mix tape.
It's short just like your temper,
But somewhat golden like the afternoons
We used to spend before you got too cool.

I got a twenty-dollar bill
that says no one's ever seen you without makeup.
You're always made up.
And I'm sick of your tattoos
And the way you don?t appreciate Brand New
And me.

And I know that you're a sucker for anything acoustic.
But when I say let's keep in touch,
I hope you know I mean I wish that you?d grow up
This is the first song for your mix tape
And it?s short just like your temper
But somewhat golden like the afternoons
We used to spend before you got too cool.

Yeah, but I wish you were my shadow [repeat 4x]
--------------------------------------------------------------------

So people ask my why I have a big signature and I say...
.................................................
.................................................
.................................................
.................................................
.............................
To annoy people

The Weasel Liberation Mov

#19
January 06, 2004, 03:32:50 PM
 I haven't read many Redwall books because I don't particularly like them. But from what I have read, the formula is:

Eat
Fight
Eat
Quest
Fight
Eat
Some great hero wins the day by taking down countless enemies or one big enemy, even if it is rather impossible to do.

In no particular order. I think the quality of the book depends on exactly how impossible the final "heroic" fight scene is and how mouth watering the description of the food is.
Highest rank on Regular: 1st
Highest rank on Turbo: 9th

RazorClaw

#20
January 06, 2004, 04:21:23 PM
 Eat
Fight
Eat
Quest
Fight
Eat
Wish my life had a plot like that...

Almiria

#21
January 06, 2004, 09:26:58 PM
 Wheee... I got it for christmas, and it took me a while to read it. It didn't sound the greatest.  

Its definately not the best book I've ever read, but its not even close to the worst.

Hmm... That would be a great schedule!  Yaaaaay!

That's true about plots though, there is just so much you can write about on redwall. If they stayed in Redwall and were completely safe, no one would read it, though.
It be DEO! ::insane grin::


Nunquam Lamaie Morde Me Dice!



Create a charrie with gaping personality flaws...
Social disorders
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calria

#22
January 07, 2004, 01:30:42 AM
Quote from: RazorClawWish my life had a plot like that...
Amen to that one...
*craves deeper'n'ever pie*

Ashyra Nightwing

#23
January 07, 2004, 10:17:59 AM
 Mmm... Redwall food sounds delicious.. I've always wanted to try some..  

Lenvar

#24
January 07, 2004, 03:56:03 PM
 Redwall food has become stereotyped and non-descriptive in the past few books.  There's nothing like Redcurrantwall Abbot Saxtus Cake anymore - it's just stuff like:
'The festive board was spread with cakes, pies, puddings, flans, pasties, soups, salads, and many other mouth-watering dishes.'

Almiria

#25
January 07, 2004, 05:03:19 PM
 Hmm... I never thought of that...

Oh, and is it an error that "Silent Streams" is read off of the gravestone, and then they always refer back to it "Quiet Streams?"
It be DEO! ::insane grin::


Nunquam Lamaie Morde Me Dice!



Create a charrie with gaping personality flaws...
Social disorders
Narcism
ANYTHING!
Discover the darker side of role playing...

House of Characters
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