Kangaroo Karaoke | PUNT ROAD END | Richmond Tigers Forum
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Kangaroo Karaoke

spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
Stir's a funny place. Not haha.

Solitary. Nothin funny about that.

Through the bars you can see the sky, bluer every day. The daily walk around the yard, the sun actually warming your skin, a power-up; spinach proton pills delivered via pores direct to soul. A magpie sings and you want to cry. Or sing. Run jump dance dive. Spend enough time inside and you understand why the roughest toughest straightest men turn to the unthinkable for a cuddle. Connection. The cut adrift drown. What can you do on a *smile* in' phone call. A disembodied voice can't wrap its arms around you.

Good behaviour. The screws have loosened up a bit. Two hours today.

Please stop asking
“Do you still love me?”
Don’t know what to say
Let’s speak in the morning
Please don’t do this
I’m too far away
Don’t know what to tell you
Babe

No more hanging around
Oh
No more hanging around
Oh
Now my sun's going down
Oh
Telling me something isn’t right
Something isn’t right

Bittersweet summer rain
I’m born again
All my broken pieces
Bittersweet summer rain
I’m born again

Ohhhhh...

No more hanging around
Oh
No more hanging around
Oh
For my sun's going down
Oh
Telling me something isn’t right
Something isn’t right

I slept all Friday
And she couldn’t get through
If we’re good tomorrow
Does that make it true?
Not completely
We’re picking that fight everyday
This sh!t’s going nowhere
Baby

Bittersweet summer rain
I’m born again
All my broken pieces
Bittersweet summer rain
I’m born again

Ohhhhhhhh....

No more hanging around
Oh
No more hanging around
Oh
For my sun's going down
Oh
Telling me something isn’t right
Something isn’t right

No hanging around
Oh
No hanging around
Oh
Oh my sun's going down
Oh
Telling me something isn’t right
Oh
Ohhhh
No

Bittersweet

Ohhh
 
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spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
Oh, man. What a hangover. Premiership celebrations rolled into Mad Monday, bled into lockdown easing, carried over to Derby Day, Cup Day and whatever else was happening that some of the boys seemed so interested in - lots of touchscreen telestrating but not a David King in sight.

I don't even know what day it is. Judging by the crusted vomit on my shirt, it's gotta be at least... I dunno - next week.

Nonetheless. This party ain't over. Sleep is for second place. I come to my senses, pick myself up off the wet cubicle floor, and rack a nose beer on the cistern. "Tell him he's Royce Hart and put him back out there," I mumble as I splash water on my face and stumble towards the beer garden.

As I shuffle through the kids' area, I hear the familiar refrain: "Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!" I prepare to intervene with the bully before I see it's just Tim Smith, sitting alone in the corner, punching himself in the dick. Best to ignore it.

I wink at Shorty, still dressed as Jack Dyer. KMac's in a fat suit, wearing glasses, with brown-stained pants and no wig, just the wisps, powdered grey. He's building some kind of cubby house and explaining to Leppa, who's wearing an even fatter suit and sporting an orange spray tan, how many brown kids can fit inside. Leppa tries to grab Marlion's lads to test the theory but one spins away like Nureyev before another slams his shoulder into Leppa's sternum. Remaining admirably in character, Leppa declares victory and tells Marlion Jr he'll see him in court.

Balmey's in his empathy consultant get-up, and the poor bastard's been cornered by Nathan Buckley and Chris Scott. I brush past Steven Hocking ("You're ruining the game!" I hiss) and Rayzor Ray ("Give us a holding the ball, ya *smile*"). I order a beer and slide the baggie and its remains to Simon Lethlean, who's cracking onto the teenage barmaid. ("Sixty percent of the time, it works every time," I assure him.)

I pick up my beer, smash it over Dangerfield's head, wobble to the stage and grab the mike.

It's not even karaoke. I'll go a capella.

I sit at my table and wage war on myself
It seems like it's all, it's all for nothing
I know the barricades
And I know the mortar in the wall breaks
I recognise the weapons, I've used them well

This is my mistake
Let me make it good
I raised the wall
And I will be the one to knock it down

I've a rich understanding of my finest defences
I proclaim that claims are left unstated
I demand a rematch

I decree a stalemate
I divine my deeper motives
I recognise the weapons
I've practised them well
I fitted them myself

It's amazing what devices you can sympathise
This is my mistake, let me make it good
I raised the wall
And I will be the one to knock it down

Reach out for me
Hold me tight
Hold that memory
Let my machine talk to me
Let my machine talk to me

This is my world, and I am the World Leader Pretend
This is my life, and this is my time
I have been given the freedom to do as I see fit
It's high time I razed the walls that I've constructed

It's amazing what devices you can sympathise
This is my mistake, let me make it good
I raised the wall
And I will be the one to knock it down

You fill in the mortar
You fill in the harmony
You fill in the mortar
I raised the wall
And I'm the only one
I will be the one to knock it down


I projectile-vomit all over Gladys Berejiklian and Gus Gould and laugh as I pass Clive Palmer and Pauline Hanson, hunched over a board game. "Knight to queen's rook 3," I whisper to PH. They're playing tiddlywinks.

Out the back, onto the sand, I flop down between Dusty and the Chimp. I spew up again. "That's the last of it," I promise. Chimp laughs. Dimma approaches and points to Bachar and Ezy standing at the water's edge, poles in the sand. "Come with me," says Dimma, "And I will make you fishers of men."

"F$%ken ay,"
says Dusty.

The six of us catch enough bream and blue mackerel to feed an army.

"We need more wine."

"On it,"
says Dusty, grabbing Bachar's water bottle.
 
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spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
F*ck yeah! Finally slept. For two days. Man, I feel fresh!

I bounce out of my room, dance down the halls, skip through the dining room, grab a cuppa joe, moonwalk into the common room and and backflip onto the couch.

The brother boys are watching telly and laughing. $hai points, "Look at these crackers!" and I take in the ageing MAGA blue lives matter retards on the telly, waving their flag and what I imagine they think is dancing to the Rage. An irony-free bubble of f*cktard. Ignorance has never looked more blissfully horrific.

Marlion rises. He doesn't say much, Marlion. But the brothers have formed a little band. He walks softly over to the stage and I see they've set up their instruments. Marlion's a smooth as *smile* bass player. The Prince climbs in behind the drum kit. $hai's pretty slick on the gee-tar and Sheds, nach, has magic dancing fingers. They're amateurs, of course, but between the two of them they do a passable Tommy Morello.

Danny thumps the kick drum. Shedda tickles the frets. Marlion's bass elbows its way in, funky as a 70s leather jacket.

I love this song. But it doesn't feel right for me to sing it. Not in this moment. "Sydney!" I yell. Contrary to his rep, Stacky's been subdued during the celebrations, keeping it low-key. He looks up from outside where he's helping Cotchy's kids build a sand castle.

"Sydney! Get in here, you prodigal sonofab!tch!"

Sheepishly at first, but then with gathering energy, his downheaded walk turns into a bounding grin as he leaps onstage and I hand him the mic. It's like a Sherrin in his hands. Born to it, the kid's a goddamn natural. He doesn't belong in a shell, he needs to live on the stage.

I step off, and watch, as SS44 takes it up with gusto:

Bring that sh!t in! Uggh!

Yeah, the movement’s in motion with mass militant poetry
Now check this out…uggh!

In the right light, study becomes insight
But the system that dissed us
Teaches us to read and right

So called facts are fraud
They want us to allege and pledge
And bow down to their God
Lost the culture, the culture lost
Spun our minds and through time
Ignorance has taken over
Yo, we gotta take the power back!
Bam! Here’s the plan
Motherfuck Uncle Sam
Step back, I know who I am
Raise up your ear, I’ll drop the style and clear
It’s the beats and the lyrics they fear
The rage is relentless
We need a movement with a quickness
You are the witness of change
And to counteract
We gotta take the power back

Yeah, we gotta take the power back
Come on, come on!
We gotta take the power back

The present curriculum
I put my fist in ’em
Eurocentric every last one of ’em
See right through the red, white and blue disguise
With lecture I puncture the structure of lies
Installed in our minds and attempting
To hold us back
We’ve got to take it back
Holes in our spirit causin’ tears and fears
One-sided stories for years and years and years
I’m inferior? Who’s inferior?
Yeah, we need to check the interior
Of the system that cares about only one culture
And that is why
We gotta take the power back

Yeah, we gotta take the power back
Come on, come on!
We gotta take the power back

Hey yo check, we’re gonna have to break it, break it,
break it down
Awww sh!t!


(Marlion's relentless bass drives, like a truck carrying a bomb set to explode if it drops below 88 miles per hour, as $hai's wicked solo takes flight. My god, the boy's a genius.)

(I look around the room. Dimma's eyes are shining, like a proud father's. Gil taps his feet and clicks his fingers. Out of time, like the honky he is, but he's trying. It's new to him, but he's into it. KMac, Cads, Broady, Bakes and George have their own little mosh pit going. Yet somehow Dusty slides through them untouched, twirling Peggy like they're Fred and Ginger. Benny's playing air guitar.)

Sydney's in the zone:

Uggh!

And like this…uggh!

Come on, yeah! Bring it back the other way!

The teacher stands in front of the class
But the lesson plan he can’t recall
The student’s eyes don’t perceive the lies
Bouncing off every f*cking wall
His composure is well kept
I guess he fears playing the fool
The complacent students sit and listen to that
Bullshit that he learned in school

Europe ain’t my rope to swing on
Can’t learn a thing from it
Yet we hang from it
Gotta get it, gotta get it together then
Like the motherfuckin’ weatherman
To expose and close the doors on those who try
To strangle and mangle the truth
‘Cause the circle of hatred continues unless we react
We gotta take the power back

Yeah, we gotta take the power back
Come on, come on!
We gotta take the power back

No more lies
No more lies
No more lies
No more lies
No more lies
No more lies
No more lies
No more lies

Uggh!

Yeah!

Take it back y’all
Take it back, a-take it back
A-take it back y’all, come on!
Take it back y’all
Take it back, a-take it back
A-take it back y’all, come on!

Uggh!

Yeah!


Sweat dripping, Syd drops the mic and walks straight to Dimma. The coach wraps him in a bear hug and everyone piles on like he's just kicked his first goal.

Marlion calls me from the stage. "Spook!"

I jump up, and here we go again.

Ay, yo, it's just another bombtrack, yeah
It goes a one, two, three...
 
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Michael

Tiger Champion
Nov 30, 2004
4,339
31
How'd you pull up Spook?
You and Briggs seemed pretty chummy.... i hear something about dropping a small block chevy into Kia Sorento
 
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artball

labels are for canned food
Jul 30, 2013
3,736
1,488
You fill in the mortar
You fill in the harmony
You fill in the mortar
I raised the wall
And I'm the only one
I will be the one to knock it down
World Leader Pretend ! nice one Spook. i saw the Green world tour gigs.
Those first 6 R.E.M. albums are priceless to me, and a few of the ones after ..
 
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spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
How'd you pull up Spook?
You and Briggs seemed pretty chummy.... i hear something about dropping a small block chevy into Kia Sorento
Walking on air, Mick. Big fan of Briggs!

World Leader Pretend ! nice one Spook. i saw the Green world tour gigs.
Those first 6 R.E.M. albums are priceless to me, and a few of the ones after ..
Cheers, art. Stand and Orange Crush getting high rotation on Saturday night MTV on Channel 9 turned me onto R.E.M. as a teen. Automatic For The People is my favourite album of theirs but I love Green too, and Monster, which I revisited recently and has aged exceptionally. Underrated album.

I saw them at the Myer Music Bowl on Australia Day 1996, and at Bluesfest a decade later. One of my all-time favourite bands.
 

spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
Im coming off an unprecedented bender.

when my brain rediscovers itself, I think I'll work up an original.

Is an original allowable on Karaoke? may need a ruling from the Capt.?
My first KK efforts were originals.
 
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artball

labels are for canned food
Jul 30, 2013
3,736
1,488
I saw them at the Myer Music Bowl on Australia Day 1996, and at Bluesfest a decade later. One of my all-time favourite bands.
i was at both those gigs ! I think the Music Bowl gig was the Monster tour. And yr right that album has aged well its full of good tunes.
 
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spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
i was at both those gigs ! I think the Music Bowl gig was the Monster tour. And yr right that album has aged well its full of good tunes.
Correction, it was 1995. Definitely Monster tour. They got Jim Courier on-stage to play drums for a song.
 

spook

Tiger Legend
Jun 18, 2007
12,952
5,039
Melbourne
yeah '95 makes sense. Jim Courier?! right, the tennis was on ..
Yeah, Courier was a fan and could hit the skins ok. A couple of months later Dave Grohl jumped on the kit for Pearl Jam's encore at Rod Laver Arena. He was a better drummer than Courier but his serve-volley game was for sh!t.
 
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eZyT

Tiger Legend
Jun 28, 2019
14,279
8,996
Im sitting around a campfire. Redgum coals like potatoes. Im full of yabbies, dreaming of beer, and the new people whisper to me through the she-oaks. The people yet to be, stirring from the longtime place. They tell a story of a time. of riches and truth and joy. of meaning and certainty. of brothers and sons ............... Of Dusty. Gidgee sticks tap a beat. I rise, asleep. my feet stir the dirt. im Tupac, biggie, Dre, ice cube. Im Snorri im Blake. im a twinkle in the old mans eye. a star. Eternity in an hour. im dead before I was born.

breast milk down my chin
dawn breeze of success
a rolling bow wave sparkling glory

uh huh, any weather, any weather, any weather.
uh huh, any weather, any weather, any weather
oooo, oooo, oooo.
yeah.

I sailed the mediocre sea
I found a place
I hoisted my flag,
once, twice
, thrice.


uh huh, in any weather, any weather, any weather.
uh huh, in any weather, any weather, any weather
oooo, oooo, oooo.
yeah.

I laughed I cried I sang
The first man last alive
you know who he is

uh huh, in any weather, any weather, any weather.
uh huh, in any weather, any weather, any weather
oooo, oooo, oooo.
yeah.

uh huh, in any weather, any weather, any weather.
uh huh, in any weather, any weather, any weather
oooo, oooo, oooo.
yeah.
 
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