Search results for 'felt tip pen'

Inside Susan

Pulp

Intro: The Gift Recordings

1993

the bus is going passed the market. outside is a man who
Spends all day forcing felt-tip pens into people's hands and then trying to make them pay
For them.

the bigger picture
Somebody's gonna get fucked again
So mark these words with a felt tip pen
I come through like the USA army
Powers and speaking the words

I'm writing on rocks with a felt-tip pen
Cleaning up broken glass again
You can get lost when you find a friend
And birds don't care about tourist

an attestation when I'm walking outside
Cause French police are everywhere and I don't want to get fined
I'm colouring in pictures, bought some new felt tip pens

Under tables in the summer throwing scissors and felt tip pens
I kept on asking where they were and if my letters had sent
Not understanding, so

I can see the writing on the wall
But I love graffiti so it doesn't bother me at all
Read between the lines
Don't let your felt tip pen slip outside

And there on the floor, 
	Along with felt tips pens and squashed oil pastilles,
	We drop our socks and tee shirts – 
	What a bunch of scruffy rascals!
	It’s

nothing else to do,
		Coloured in his face with felt-tip pen!
		They had to scrub his cheeks with scouring pads and bleach!
		You bet he won’t be doing that

so I’m wylin
Make a dagger out of my breath
Fingers around the felt tip pen as I manifest
Figures around an endless den I could recollect Triggers

We'll, I'm sure it's factual

But I didn't work for him back then, though I know that now and again

He lets me pick up his Brush and borrow his Felt Tip

dimension
Another dimension
You climb the stairs to flow
You climb the stairs to know

The felt-tip pen I have
Writes so smooth and beautiful
Didn't know that

the dreams
And encrypt the verses in my lyrical fit
Touch the score
Felt tip pen writing score upon score

Book of life
Versus
The book of rhymes
Hands off

was taken in.

As you lay there,
your once bold tattoos,
wrinkle smudged
like children's drawings.

All blunt crayons
and dried out felt tip pens.

Your

Your lovesick lies
I'll just put them
In my notebook
And draw around your name
With a felt tip pen

Fuck it's happening again
I've let you get
In my head

Imaginary Friend

John Flansburgh

It's Fun to Steal

1998

The beauty of a felt tip pen
The comfort found in imaginary friends
I've been all around this crummy world
And no one will defend
The comfort

Love What's Gone

Jim's Big Ego

They're Everywhere

gone
And love what's gone

The felt tip pen
In your sketch books I would sit
And I would follow these lines
That old woman there
Did she notice

a reflection 
How we, survive, survive, survive

I use a pencil to stencil the tension felt tip pen
And tell a dick, better be quick, to git me in the cellar get

of gasoline
She packed her things inside my car
And in the kitchen by the phone
With a felt-tip pen she wrote a note
She said: daddy, I can't take it
I can't

The ink pen
Yeah
The felt-tip write so smoothly
It amuse me how a few knew how it moves me
Every since juvey we been groovy
Never ever ever once did you use

melt
Just dishing out the pain I was dealt
Felt tip or ink well pen, types irrelevant
Writing down the words of a covenant
Disagreeing with me is like

My pride doesn't allow me to passively aggressively yelp
He plays what he's dealt, the tip of the felt pen
I used to write lyrics to beats for years
I

it
Felt like the tip of the pen that checks the counterfeits
Like, your girl ain't never heard of me
Sike, 'cause she'd probably search the world

straight from Heaven though our ways be hell bent
Felt this whether pencil, a pen, feather, or felt tip
I got all these motherfucker jivin' like I'm Elvis,

the pen game
Yeah, he's been strange
Always spits flames wherever the clips aim
And it just splits brains
Lyrical hollow tips bang
Independent, never switch