mr. jones...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=WYN74ZW4k_E

Counting Crows - Mr. Jones Lyrics


Sha la la la la la la..... hmm, uh huh...

I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with a black-haired flamenco dancer
She dances while his father plays guitar
She's suddenly beautiful
We all want something beautiful
Man I wish I was beautiful
So come dance this silence down through the mornin'
Sha la la la la la la la yeah.. uh huh, yeah...
Cut up, Maria! Show me some of that Spanish dancin'
yeah, but, Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones
Believe in me
Help me believe in anything
'Cause I wanna be someone who believes
Yeah...

Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales
And we stare at the beautiful women
"She's looking at you. Ah, no, no, she's looking at me."
Smiling in the bright lights
Coming through in stereo
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely

Well, I'm gonna paint my picture
Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray
All of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful
Yeah, well, you know gray is my favorite color
I felt so symbolic yesterday
If I knew Picasso
I would buy myself a gray guitar and play

Mr. Jones and me look into the future
Yeah, we stare at the beautiful women
"She's looking at you. I don't think so. She's looking at me."
Standing in the spotlight
I bought myself a gray guitar
When everybody loves me, I'll never be lonely
I'll never be lonely
Son, I'm never gonna be lonely

I wanna be a lion
E-Everybody wants to pass as cats
We all wanna be big big stars, yeah, but we've got different reasons for that
Believe in me 'cause I don't believe in anything
and I, I wanna be someone to believe, to believe, to believe,yeah

Mr. Jones and me stumbling through the barrio
Yeah we stare at the beautiful women
"She's perfect for you, Man, there's got to be somebody for me."
I wanna be Bob Dylan
Mr. Jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky
When everybody loves you, oh, son, that's just' bout as funky as you can be

Mr. Jones and me staring at the video
When I look at the television, I wanna see me staring right back at me
We all wanna be big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how
But when everybody loves me, I'll be just' bout as happy as I could be
Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars.

Talking Heads - Mr. Jones Lyrics


Mr. Jones
Put a wiggle in your stride
Loosen up
I believe he'll be alright

Changing clothes
Now he's got ventilated slacks
Bouncing off the walls
Mr. Jones is back!

Bulge out
And wind your waist
Tight pants
Got curly hair

Drinking cold beer
From metal cans
Moonshine
And Handi-Wipes!

Mr. Jones is back in town
it's his lucky day
Hold up your hands and shout
Jones is on his way

Pitter pat
Mr. Jones is back in town
Aces high
Now his pants are falling down

He looks so fine
In those patent leather shoes
Mr. Jones, you look tired
I believe you'll be alright

Sales men
Conventioneers
Some rock stars
With tambourines

Short skirts
And skinny legs
Selling bibles
And real estate

It's a big day for Mr. Jones
He is not so square
Mr. Jones will stick around
He's everybody's friend

Fast cars
And motorbikes
I'm sure glad
He's on our side

The Jones Gang
Down at the bar
Watch out, this time
They've gone too far

They call for Mr. Jones
They put him in charge
Mr. Jones will help us out
He's a lucky guy

It is Mr. Jones' Birthday party
For another year
In his hotel room Party favors
It's a holiday

:bounce:

I thought it was alot more recent than that. Love it.

Unless it was a cover and I just don't know it.

It was realeased in 94 or 95 I think.

We used to play it all the time before we changed our lead signer.

Fred Jones Pt 2
Ben Folds

Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There's an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall
He's cleared all his things and he's put them in boxes
Things that remind him: 'Life has been good'

Twenty-five years
He's worked at the paper
A man's here to take him downstairs
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time

There was no party, there were no songs
'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started
Noone has left here that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don't change anything
You get off; someone else can get on

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time

Streetlight shines through the shades
Casting lines on the floor, and lines on his face
He reflects on the day

Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting some slides onto a plain white
Canvas and traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides, and it doesn't look right
Yeah, and all of these bastards
Have taken his place
He's forgotten but not yet gone

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time