Reply Only With a Lyric...

Colosseum families
The golden era of TV
Eunuch sluts, consumer slaves
A rose by any other name
Carbon footprint, incest streams
Fuck the mother in the green
Planet cancer, sweet revenge
Isolation, online friends
 
Baby baby please
You've got me on my hands and knees
Baby baby baby please
Won't you give me what you know I need

Saw her in the sky, she's just hanging round
Baby fly so high, won't you come on down
Like an angel
 
I met someone at the dog show
She was holding my left arm
But everyone was acting normal
So I tried to look nonchalant
We both said, "I really love you"
The Shriners loaned us cars
We raced up and down the sidewalk
Twenty thousand million times
 
Every night, these silhouettes appear above my head
Little angels of the silences that climb into my bed and whisper
Every time I fall asleep, every time I dream
Did you come? Would you lie?
Why'd you leave us 'til we're only good for?
 
It was a cold and wet December day
When we touched the ground at JFK
Snow was melting on the ground
On BLS I heard the sound
Of an angel
 
A man walks down the street
It’s a street in a strange world
Maybe it’s the third world
Maybe it’s his first time around
He doesn’t speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound, the sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says, “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!”
 
Cow cow lubba 'n a blubba lubba
How rown hibb'n 'n a hibba-lu
How low lubbin 'n a blubba-lubba
Hey ride ricky ticky hubba lubba
Dull ow de moun' chicky hubba lubba
Went down trucka lucka wanna do-uh
How low a zippin 'n a hubba-lu
Hey ride ricky ticky blubba-lu
How low duh woody woody pecker pecker

"Rubber Biscuit"
 
Her green plastic watering can
For her fake Chinese rubber plant
In the fake plastic earth

That she bought from a rubber man
In a town full of rubber plans
To get rid of itself
 
Years ago
I was an angry young man
And I'd pretend
That I was a billboard
Standing tall
By the side of the road
I fell in love
With a beautiful highway
 
There's a place in the world for the angry young man
With his working class ties and his radical plans
He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl,
And he's always at home with his back to the wall.
And he's proud of his scars and the battles he's lost,
And he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross
And he likes to be known as the angry young man.
 
I had to knock a few buildings over, I make an ugly mess
I had to blow a gasket, drop transmission, I had to decompress
I had to write the Great American Novel, I had a neutron bomb
 
Thank you for the voice, the eyes and the memories shine
Thank you for the pictures of living in the beautiful black and the white
Some say we'll be together for a very long time
Some say that our first impressions never will lie
I open up to take a look into the bright and shiny book
Into the open scheme of things
Book of brilliant things
Book of brilliant things
 
Native these words seem to me
All speech directed to me
I've heard them once before
I know that feeling
Stranger emotions in mind
Changing the contours I find
I've seen them once before
Someone cries to me
 
It's five and I'm driving home again
It's hard to believe that it's my last time
The man on the wireless cries again
It's over, it's over
 
It's 5 o'clock in the morning
You're lying in your bed
You wonder why it's not morning in your head
The day is open for business
But still your eyes are closed
You spread your dreams
Like butter on your toast
 
You don't know how to ease my pain
You don't know
You don't know how to ease my pain
You don't know what the sound is, darlin'
It's the sound of my tears falling, or is it the rain?
You don't know
 
One day this love will all blow over
Time for leaving the parade
Is there a place in this city
A place to always feel this way?
Tinseltown is in the rain
 
Because of Toledo
I got so worried and stayed clean
The pick ups in the wild prairies
The shadows dancing in between
Girl leans on the jukebox
In a pair of old blue jeans
Says I live here but I don't really live anywhere
 
Look out, Joe
I think the sky is fallin'
Seems that all the clouds have turned to stone
I'm callin' you from somewhere deep in Ohio
 
Look out across the fields, see me returning
Smoke is in your eye, you draw a smile
From the fireplace where my letters to you are burning
You've had time to think about it for a while.
 
You and your words flooded my senses
Your sentences left me defenseless
You built me palaces out of paragraphs
You built cathedrals
 
Back
Top