R.E.M. Song Maker
Don't have enough time to listen to all of your favorite R.E.M. songs? Try making a random blend of them into one song with this generator. Get all your favorite Stipe mumblings in set of lyrics.
Oh My Ignoreland
Words & Music by Band Name Maker, Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Mike Mills and Bill Berry
Verse 1:
Inside, cold, dark, fire, twilight
Maybe you're not the problem, scissors, paper, stone
Radio Free Europe
To bring you down and that's not how it ought to be
Maybe you're not the problem, scissors, paper, stone
Radio Free Europe
To bring you down and that's not how it ought to be
Chorus:
I should keep myself in between the pages
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in, throw your trolls out the door
Left my soul at home
That the tree had lost its middle
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in, throw your trolls out the door
Left my soul at home
That the tree had lost its middle
Verse 2:
Maybe these maps and legends
Rally round your leaders it's the mediator season
Reason: it could polish up the gray
You can stay if you want but the third time you can't lose
Rally round your leaders it's the mediator season
Reason: it could polish up the gray
You can stay if you want but the third time you can't lose
Chorus:
I should keep myself in between the pages
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in, throw your trolls out the door
Left my soul at home
That the tree had lost its middle
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in, throw your trolls out the door
Left my soul at home
That the tree had lost its middle
Bridge:
A handshake is worthy, if it's all that you've got
I dropped it down and it sunk, reached down
Lighted, lighted, laughing
To bring you down and that's not how it ought to be
I dropped it down and it sunk, reached down
Lighted, lighted, laughing
To bring you down and that's not how it ought to be
Verse 3:
At night I drink myself to sleep
Happy throngs, take this joy wherever, wherever you
Philomath, they know the lowdown, throw your trolls out the door
You'll wind up in some factory
Happy throngs, take this joy wherever, wherever you
Philomath, they know the lowdown, throw your trolls out the door
You'll wind up in some factory
Chorus:
I should keep myself in between the pages
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in, throw your trolls out the door
Left my soul at home
That the tree had lost its middle
Kick the clay that holds the teeth in, throw your trolls out the door
Left my soul at home
That the tree had lost its middle
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