Who doesn't love some swingin' Barry Manilow?
Where my old timers at?

that cat is swingin' man!

Thank you for the second promote on this one and your perseverance.

In reply to this comment by deathcow:
*promote not letting it die

Thank you for the promote.

In reply to this comment by deathcow:
*promote

Wikipedia had this on "Swingin'":

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Anderson_%28musician%29#.22Swingin.27.22_and_mainstream_success

A lot of niggaz stepped up to the bad man
Chest bucked out with your head wide open
Hopin, to spot, a chip in this frame
I lived and died by the burnin flame
of the OK Corral, Cowboy style
From the Quarters on down to Colorado's
Big niggaz from uptown, ridin into Tahoe's
Saloon settin, kids is walkin round
drinkin whiskey and scotch, strictly out of shotglasses
Lookin screwfaced at the next nigga who passes
There's women in garter belts and ciggarettes
And on the side there's the price game
Niggaz is playin the price game
Indian Red, was bangin niggaz in the head
With his man Apache Joe, they take your money off the floor
They side-bettin for a better, they makin cheddar
That tribal shit is work ya sound the wompom drums
Cause my Indian man'sll break your great dick, UHH
Walk in the New York terrority
On the back of a tree, there's a picture of me
It says I'm lawless, flawless, a hustler plus gun rustler
Wanted in Carolina, for sellin some of New York's finer
Marshal Cooper say he want me, Marshal Cooper gotta get me
Marshal Cooper say beat me, Marshal Cooper better wet me
I gather alla y'all, all of my trusted men
All of my baddest niggaz, niggaz that's quickest with the triggers
There's distrubin news on the wire
That my dome piece is done sent to piece out for hire
I ain't goin down over no money exchange
You late for say I, who reigns as King of the Range?
In this land of wildness
Yo you better pack your vest
In the streets there's nothin but crime
So you best to watch your behind...
Meanwhile saloon settin is back to full swing
Bar's gettin money people doin they thing
There's strictly Boss Players with this kid named Minnesota
As women start to fill up, turn the notch on the grill up
And add mo' stakes to the house banks for gamblers
Half-pipes to scramblers, and free for Wild Cowboys
You never bring decoys if you wanna make real nouse
The bigger the stick, the bigger the fire
I never hit a man in the back, a coward acts like that
Lay out my black hat cause I feel like the bad man
Who on the rise, the D's to Manhattan
Let's walk the thirty paces on the Now Rule races
Oh it's the Marshal Cooper, and I love how he doin this
Women sayin don't get hurt, and I ain't plannin on it
Ten steps taken as I hit the blam factor
His dick to act up, was death the benefactor
Leave him twitchin in the dirt like Cousin Harold from the Menace
I'm in this to win this on the great wide trail
I'm ten times as bad as John Wayne, could ever be
Plus I'm down with the Indian, and need high to get the shit again
I'm responsible for that body in the alley
I'll Louisiana Purchase that ass with with Remi's spurs
and hard shots of Tequila, where the dancin girls
Let's get right as the story unfurls
Piano man keep playin, keep them keys bangin
Single man get three graves there's gonna be a hangin
Now this right here ain't for the youth to see
A grown man assed out swingin from a tree
In this land of wildness
Yo you better pack your vest
In the streets there's nothin but crime
So you best to watch your behind
Joe Tex was the biggest hombre from the projects
Had all the work locked down, so he thought
But he drank and got loose lipped, let a lot of news slip
Stripped of his game and got his self murdered
Thoughts of him are passin like the buffalo
Got his self rocked in the ninety-six brand new Acura
Niggaz said it was lightning BLAOW blew out the back mirror
Hah, youknowhatI'msayin? Dig, check it out
They say that Cowboys never die they just ride off into the sun
A little tale from Sadat X of how the WORLD was won
Check it out, remember this
Gun-slingers, dead-ringers with presidents
Is found tied with no explanation of how they died
Yo the great Sadat X, the High Plains Drifter
No question
In this land of wildness
Yo you better pack a vest
In the streets there's nothin but crime
So you best to watch your behind

[James Nichols from Bowling for Columbine]
Them people, law enforcement, if you want to call them that
were here and they were shaking in their shoes. They were physically
shaking, scared to death. Because certain people, said I'm a radical
I'm a wild man, I got a gun under every arm, if you say anything
I'll shoot you. If the people find out how they've been
ripped off, and enslaved, they will revolt with the blood
running in the streets.

Yo, Ticket to ride, the white crime, highway
Bring all the guns, the funds will come my way
Whether we deliverin' high grade
To the people in the pit of the tri-state
Or dabble in the hood like fly weights
Lock and load in the range with rock the globe
Made any aim possible
Til the leadbelly lost control
In the hold of the paper that fold
At one time was related to gold
Made many men lose their soul
To the price of the dice that roll
How can a light so bright make a man so cold?
So another man's plans unfold
Can you really see the truth til it happens to you
Its so severe what the hopeless will do

Ain't no pickin' your position to beginning your life
Not every man want to stand by his kids and his wife
Too many lost kids in the night
Hand on heat, grippin' it tight
Any man want beef could get it right
Followed by enough flame to put a permanent end
To the learning of men
Class session, too many the blast the last lesson
Often taught like the wars that are often fought
As old as mankind
Now outta his damn mind
Stand on the gunpowder landmine
Ready to blow at any second
I'm checking for the signs of the end
Of all-time, I figure its on time, my last thoughts forming the rhyme

Got me running through the streets
That reek of the dead, its more food to the wealthy
My niggaz on welfare, nobody givin' up healthcare
Nothing but heat, how you gonna tell me it ain't hell here?
George Bush having a swell year
Swingin' the gat, ready to clap, anything on the map
You done seen what they bring to Iraq
Now bring it back to the source, land of the physical force
Land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun!

This is the place where the cops rush in the building
Paramilitary death squads murder your children
Empty shell of a man rippin' shots in the air
Soldiers dying out there, but nobody cares
Prepare for the future but make note of the past
Or be condemned to live it again and get blast
Class warfare kept outta the news
Replaced by a corporation's political views
Cause this is where the guns are manufactured and sold
The land that was stolen stripped of all of its gold
Old timers on the death bed speakin' the wisdom
Immigrants crucified by conservative Christians
Now we all got freedom to die in the street
But the difference is more of us die in a week
Than they die in a year I made it clear
Where I stand when the line is drawn
But now the line is gone
And nigga anything goes
The land where the guns don't let anything grow
And what the fuck you niggaz know about living in hell
You not built like me you never lived in a cell
You never gambled with your soul
Fuck the ice on your hand, gun in your palm
But you got a niggaz life in your hand
Young man, just remember that slicing a gram
Is a bloody game, like throwin' mice in a fan
My words flow like the rivers thats west of Iran
The fertile crescent moon, with the star in the middle
I reveal the depth of history's scars when I scribble
I gave you the world, and I ain't even charged you a little
The martyr is crippled
The prophets are dead and buried, but the message is simple
And its not written down in holy books as a riddle

Now we running through the streets, starvin'
On that guerilla warfare
My people stuck in a guerilla warfare
Innocent children screamin' in tears
You actin' like the army ain't put hell here
Military industry havin' a swell year
Swinging a gat while lying in heaven
Living off a blank check after 9/11
But I'm have the truth brought back to the source
Fight for my land with physical force
Speak through music, the subliminal course
I need a tech and a clip, fuck a Jag and a Porsche
Land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun, land of the gun

those swingin 70s

It was Dag and Lucky in the grass skirts that got you goin' isn't it?

>> ^rottenseed:
anyone for some good ol' fashioned videosift swingin?
Just put your keys in the bowl...

anyone for some good ol' fashioned videosift swingin?

Just put your keys in the bowl...

just swingin' by to catch another glimpse of this gem from the vaults.

then mock it, scoff at it, blaspheme a little in its general direction, then taunt it.

and enable some fags. and then i shall taunt it a second time.

Why is death taboo? Because of voyeurism. Because the predictable nature of humans is such, that you will always have the lowest common denom. crowd, who likes the spectacle of visceral content, for the sake of that alone-

VS want to be seen as a cut above the jack-ass channels, like liveleak, so we simply disallow some stuff, to avoid confrontation altogether. DANGER

The votes have it-I vote up some vids, not because of the vids, but on merit of the dialog it ignites alone. I also post vids for the same reason.

We are adult enough to see the difference, and can vote accordingly. Which is why Sogoddamn Insane, and his swingin' ass, is not here....

Exercise yer down vote powers, and show the users of this site, what makes for good copy-then show them with yer comments-

and you "P's" that lurk, comment, and don't post???? I just don't understand yas....you gotta shake that thang, main.....Show Out!

Get rid of the word snuff, too. As eric stated in the comments on the disarded vid that the fuss is about here, There is no snuff on video sites.

Ta for that, Linz, an' you're a fine lookin' filly too!

-----

I used to be a farmer, and I made a living fine,
I had a little stretch of land along the CP line
But times were hard and though I tried, the money wasn't there
And bankers came and took my land and told me "fair is fair"

I looked for every kind of job, the answer always no
"Hire you now?" they'd always laugh, "we just let twenty go!"
The government, they promised me a measly little sum
But I've got too much pride to end up just another bum.

Then I thought, who gives a damn if all the jobs are gone?
I'm gonna be a PIRATE on the river Saskatchewan!!!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

Well, you'd think the local farmers would know that I'm at large
But just the other day I found an unprotected barge
I snuck up right behind them and they were none the wiser,
I rammed their ship and sank it and I stole their fertilizer!

A bridge outside of Moose Jaw spans a mighty river
Farmers cross in so much fear their stomachs are a-quiver
Cause they know that TRACTOR JACK is hidin' in the bay
I'll jump the bridge and knock them cold and sail off with their hay!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

Well, Mountie Bob he chased me, he was always at my throat
He'd follow on the shoreline cause he didn't own a boat
But cutbacks were a-coming and the Mountie lost his job
And now he's sailing with us, and we call him Salty Bob!

A swingin' sword, a skull and bones, and pleasant company
I never pay my income tax and screw the GST (SCREW IT!!)
Prince Albert down to Saskatoon, the terror of the seas
If you wanna reach the Co-Op, boy, you gotta get by me!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

(*spoken* Arrrr! Ya salty dog!)
(*spoken* Arrrr! Ya salty gopher!)
(*spoken* Arr.. ya.. salty bale of hay!)

Well, Pirate life's appealing but you don't just find it here,
I've heard that in Alberta there's a band of buccaneers
They roam the Athabaska from Smith to Fort McKay
And you're sure to loose your Stetson if you have to pass their way!

Well, winter is a-comin' and a chill is in the breeze
My Pirate days are over once the river starts to freeze
I'll be back in springtime but now I have to go
I hear there's lots of plunderin' down in New Mexico!

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores

When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores...

Tags for this video have been changed from 'babes, frails, hep, swingin, talent, respect' to 'babes, frails, hep, swingin, talent, respect, 30s, 40s' - edited by swampgirl

From famoustexans.com

Bob Wills hated the hillbilly image associated with country music. But then, this was a different kind of country music anyway. If he hadn't played a fiddle, no one would have connected country to the Playboys' music at all. It was really jazz; jazz that portrayed a dignified South, with flowing fiddles and classy, sometimes brassy, arrangements. Their rags, breakdowns, Dixieland tunes, and swingin' blues were an uplifting beacon of light in otherwise hard, depressed times of the 1930s.

The Playboys usually appeared in cowboy dress attire. No sequins or overalls, this was a sophisticated outfit. Bob's look was that of a well-dressed bandleader, but one from Texas. His cowboy hat, cigar, and fiddle were all part of his trademark appearance.

'Bob was a stylish, western rogue,' says Ray Benson, leader of Asleep At The Wheel, Western Swinging Bob Wills disciples for the past quarter century. 'He danced onstage, he was outrageous. He strutted like a peacock, unheard of back in those days.' In all other respects, he led a Big Band just like Tommy Dorsey, in a presentation that was downright orchestral - except Bob conducted with a fiddle bow.