Bat Out Of Hell
Meat Loafwould
would
its nights like that one that remind that the paths we walk are nothing but miracles. in the grand scheme of things we are all miracles, in a metaphorical sense. to be is divine, godless or not.
I mean i guess its pretty good. Its just not really my style. I find blues to be pretty tiresome.
it was great, actually. still not what im looking for but i liked it.
please no more blues. the drummer was good though
NICE! too theatrical though
dude this is so crazy!!!
boooooring
its nice
i mean it was good but the youtube playlist was fucked up
it actually is that good. not the greatest album ever made but, damn, it hits hard.
yeah its pretty good
there truly is some magic to it
some songs are awesome, some are kinda lame
what a nice and relaxing album
yeah i guess its good
one of those albums you can listen to
theres some beautiful songs here
guitar
i mean theres some really beautiful songs here but most of it i just dont get. that last song goes absolutely hard though
i really like the songs
vegan type beat
this album is my love, my life
this my shit yeah girl
meh, some food songs but kinda boring
really nice RECORD!!!!!!!!!!
yeahhhhhh idk
this album might be
give me that noise
kind of a bop
NOT FOR ME!!!! NOT MADE WITH YA GIRL ON MIND!!
trying to find the end of my burning silhouette
so joyful. takes my heart out for a walk in the park.
yeah i liked it
would
cha cha cha very nice
this sucks
i dont want to listen to this. its not bad. theres nothing wrong. i just dont feel like it. i cant stay here. this place hurts my eyes and the humid, dense smell of the air brings me down. but, at the same time, there are thorns tied to my heart, and when i move the sink deeper and deeper. i cant stay here. it hurts to leave. i cant stay here with you and i. it hurts to be with you and i.
im sorry what were you saying? i fell asleep
giving this one a 5, i dont care about anything else in the world right now other than letting go
i was dead all day, i escaped. i was mad all day, i escaped.
its black country out there
woke up in the night and got caught with a glance, this might be my last dance. in a giant world with no haters or fans, this might be my last dance. let the roots in my bed tickle my tired stance, this might be my last dance. every mirror is knife ive a tendency to grasp, this might be my last dance. its not unbecoming of me to call in such an obscene scene, for i am not pristine, nor clean. im cursed to die like a dream, cursed to see like gleam. drop it onto the floor, let it shatter like a dream, let it shine like a gleam. this might be my last dream in a world of nightmares, this might be my last dream. its not unbecoming of me to be such an absurd being, being for the benefit of noone it seems. yes, i see. i string together a picture of blood, paper towels and minute details. it glows under a dim light from nowhere. its a road, to nowhere. there is only one light. it comes from nowhere, it seems. i go nowhere, it seems.
blood breaks out of me, i deserve it. i dont deserve to keep it. i figured it was only a nightmare, but now it seems like a dream. theres a shadow hanging over my bed, every night it gets lower. i get shivers from its gleam, every night it gets colder. its finger counts my days, every night i get older. its hole its an oracle, every night i get closer. its the morning again. the sun cast a light over my regret, its shadow picks from behind bed. opportuniyies squandered, dont have the life to care, only to sit and ponder which one will leave next, the answer wont make me calmer. please let it be an armor, no weight, but thats just the opposite of hate. i cant relate. shots fired on the streets make me shake the bed, makes me wonder where the bullets will be lead next. please paint with red, please shatter my neck.
its nights like that one that remind that the paths we walk are nothing but miracles. in the grand scheme of things we are all miracles, in a metaphorical sense. to be is divine, godless or not.
i live on an island in a continent
i saw the memories i never had in the dreams i wanted to live. no difference between the distance between me and them, and between heaven and hell. or purgatory, at least. i saw the most demented thoughts buried just beneath the surface, and, as the rain pitter pattered over the grass, the thunder glanced above it, sure that it will never strike. my heart still stopped that day. i saw the least repented outlaws and their violent crimes in the pictures i painted inside my head, their eyes rotten and their will unjust. i didnt want to stay, yet here i am. i saw the inmortal remains of my mothers orbiting around my brain. i extended my arms upwards, like antennas to the sky, but their voices never reached so far. i saw the daughter i wanted to be, but my voice didnt reach so far.
look out the window and see snow, shadows bleak concrete floors but i dont want to see more. this city is rotten at its core but words of kindness float above it all, like vapor from fungi gorge or an upside down shore. flightless birds are a bore, necessary to grow bindless from this prison where im born. highness glistens throught the core, its an image beautiful, unexplicably so. i let the dog out the street door. this album sucks btw
frightening closing doors and screeching grinders, the thought passes like a bird, mind her widening blinders, flattening imposing foes and friendly outsiders, allies squandered. cohersing yours truly to share words kinder, couldnt find them in my core, an enlightening reminder. albums great but needs some spice imo
every time i see my body i pass away. with the way i live my life its a miracle i make it through the day. im tired and wired to look for something to play, not something to heal my dismay. just the way i stay. every morning i pass away, its an act of mourning the boring way scorned i wake. im laying in wake, alive and awake but inside i pray my heart burns like a cigarrette stake. im waiting for accidents, im frail and fleeting, and every night i pray in my sleep that my heart stops beating. i taste the sweet season in dreams, it still takes like acid and feels like linen. mi vida es un maravilloso crimen. passing by, the birds see my crying eyes and shine like beacons. i kneel down and grasp the sand. it falls through my hands. i grasp the sand again, wondering how long ill last. i really like this album but the sex skits are awful
tangled wires in my heart, im just looking for my seat. the bumps in the road set me back like the heat. i bounce and try not to fall off my feet. i get off the bus, im tired and beat. i walk to the station, the rain tastes so sweet. i wait there for hours and a stranger there asks me if she can sit there beside me. i know ill be late if the train wont arrive. the air hugs tenderly my withering sigh. if i have to call it to make it in time, the price of the ticket wont be just a dime. i call the train, but im too tired to try. i call the train, i might let it pass me by. i call the train, but i just stand by. i call the train and she leaves me behind idk i might return to this one
its cold. the window is closed, though my imagination is old. its images hold no power, the wind blows the tower off. my offering is this poem retold, to you, now its yours. the thoughts close in on me like a tiburón, my blood of ghoul cast upon the first stone. i loved this one
not for me
haha what a great album. i hope the people who made it dont have extreme political views
words of an outsider, i write like an alien. pale hand holds the pen, a liar trying to confess. a buzz when i press, but its all in jest. this gesture is like an empty stage, making my own rumours even though its just a guess. my head hurts like a tumour but i dont want to feel less. im trying to play before it turns posthumorous, this one whispers "never doom her, shes a bloomer". broken womb, i lift the pen, again i drew her kinda one note, but it is a beautiful note
babbling on my way to my sleeping cavity, im where incandescent pain and cold rain meet muted humanity. the scenery is quite a catastrophe, but the rock wont show no cold shoulder, an affirming hilarity. nothing funny about it, but i needed the laugh. something to hold on to when i feel like im trapped. when the pest inside my brain acts like a runaway train and smashes through my parade while my secrets unwrap. its all there, it always has been. but nobody will know, im a never has been. why is he saying such nasty stuff about women?? anyway, quite an uhhh eclectic listen. synths sound kinda outdated though
por aqui camina la muerte. las paredes se me acercan pero nunca he tenido tanta suerte pues estas se detienen al ver que yo soy la misma persona que prendio el fuego que incendio el puente. el bosque esta quemado y ardiente, para poder cruzarlo deberia estar armada hasta los dientes pero tengo tensa la mente y desprecio como se siente estar tirada en la cama como siempre, tan impotente. very enjoyable album
the red drives me insane, im glad its always there. the option to show my insides, hope no one stares. it stings, it hurts, i love not to care. alone, sitting atop my back broken chair. in my own lair, im a prisoner. im a lioness, so mystical. when i set sail, through the cyclical. and my mind flails, egotistical. mingus the goat, more like the feds
fuck whatever youre thinking about
i hate this
rza the razor, with boring lasers
kinda freaky, i definitely enjoyed it. idk what theyre saying though
huh
goes hard
cant stay focused. i feel like im going insane.
ive got a pregnant snake
two swords. the bongs are too boring, i need more daring combinations.
saying this album is bad is just plane stupid
i dont enjoy this
this is one of those albums made by MICHAEL
this album was not made by TOM
one of the worst albums
a lot of effort was put into this album
songs range from boring to annoying
this is great but i want to kiss boys
blue
hmmm what AN mojo going
mierda
makes me SICK
While it sports various moments that combine the verbal gymnastics, dark themes, powerful beats and satirical characters perfectly, most of the time it crumbles under the banality of its own violence
music for people who eat churros twice a week
sucks monkey butt
hmm m m m m m FUck the sun
girly this shit is ass. this is just straight ass
where is the high octane gaming action??????
might relisten
superunkown? oh yeah well i wish i didnt know this album beotch
oh you want me to review this album? this one? this one specifically? you pulled this one for me? you generated this specific album particularly for little ol judy? out of all the albums that there are and that you listen to on the thing, you want me to listen and then review and rate this one in particular? well its ok i guess
save the worthless words drifting out your mouth take the lonely sun youve been singing about lakes of shadows silhouettes drown you under the clouds left to ponder mistakes and whereabouts fake your image in the mirror sleeping wake up to the sound of nightmares leaking make the best of time thats quietly thinning crave the dreams above the walls of living ngl this is kind of amazing
- not gonna lie i actually really enjoyed this one, even if it got a bit mmadmmadmmfasdmfjahsdjgajsdhf OH MY GOD A BEAR IS TRYING TO KILL ME ILL HAVE TO USE THIS BASEBALL BAT TO DEFEND MYSELF. - I jumped atop my desk in order to achieve a height advantage as the bear slowly stumbled on his way to attack, thinking I had entered his territory. - I dont want to do this you fucking bear! - I howled from across the room, but the bear didnt understand. It couldnt understand. As it approached me, I smacked it on its snout with my baseball bat, which enraged him. The bearstumbled backwards for a moment before pouncing on me with its huge claws. I managed to jump over him at the last second but, almost instantly, the bear turned around and made one final attempt to kill me. In one final assault the bear reached downwards to bite my head off but I managed to use my baseball bat to defend myself. As the bear bit into the wooden bat, he hurt its teeth, giving me enough time to escape. - Im sorry bear but i had to! - I yelled as I ran away.
- great album. im in a good mood so ill give it five stars The words came out of her mouth like wind blowing through the branches of an oak tree, as she slowly walked towards the balcony. The cold air christened her skin as she slid the glass door open. Let the cold in. Out of her coat pocket a cigarrette, light it with a despondent look over the forest.
so i was at a coffee shop this one time. i was sitting by window when the waiter approached me to hand me my solicited cappuchino, with a pair of free chocolate cookies. as he walked towards the table where i was seated, he contemplated the urban scene unfolding behind the confines of the coffee shop, in the outside world of the busy city of amsterdam. he stopped to think before quietly leaving the tray he brought on the table, and turned towards the cash register. but, as he started walking, he bumped into this very tall man who had just entered the store. said man was wearing a pair of windsor sunglasses, which covered what seemed to be two tired eyes, one of them staring off into the distance while the other focused on the waiter. said mans hair was messy and not well kept at all, which, combined with the beaten leather jacket and dusty beige pants he was wearing, gave him a very rough look. "oh sorry sir" the words fell out of the waiters mouth like drunken butterfly, a beautiful voice carrying itself across the air bumbling and hastily. the man muttered something very quietly as he pulled a cigarrette from his back pocket and held it in his mouth, softly biting its end. the waiter stood unamused, and proceeded to continue his way towards the cash register when the man tapped him in his shoulder. "i must see your manager. mr roger" he said while still holding the cigarrette, it seemed he had no plans to light it. the waiter awkwardly pointed towards a door at the end of the coffee shop, right next to the ladys room. the man looked around before taking a few coins from his pocket. he tried to give them to the waiter, but instead he dropped them on the ground. the waiter stood unamused. the man went into the room and i thought that would be the end of it but, around five minutes later, a gunshot was heard coming from that room. everyone in the coffee shop started panicking, and crowds of scared customers ran outside like deers escaping from a hunter. i tried to do the same but, as is made my way to the door, i slipped on puddle of water in the floor so i resorted to hiding under the table before the shooter saw me. i heard the doors swing open, followed by some footsteps. then, as if nothing had happened, the man from before approached the waiter. "thanks for the uhhh cooperation, much obliged" he said before leaving. the police arrived shortly after and, even though the couldnt find the man, i was asked to talk to the police and provide a description of what happened. i was taken along to the police station in an ambulance. the same ambulance, in fact, that was being used to take the now deceased owner of the coffee shop to the morgue. during the trip i listened to this album and i imagined as if voices in the background were the people in the coffee shop. interesting listen, very enjoyable.
im so tired wth
very meditative. once upon a time we could hold each other tight but that loving paradigm has been shattered without purpose. i know its not a crime to say bye without a rhyme but you didnt leave a dime or a letter for my person. you think i try to whine but the words that here i cry are not tears for a grey sky, but for my womanly brethen. girl he might leave you behind, but life flows like the nile, because the contract we sign is written with and old pencil. i like it