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I think you need to buy Mass Romantic, then!
complete lyrics:
ELECTRIC VERSION
The sound of God is the screech of tires, lights and magnets, bolts and wires,
strayed from the road, this very one. Still to come,
the sound of tires is the sound of God, the electric version.
The power and blood will pulse through your song, just as long as it sounds lost,
streaming out of the magnets.
Strung together like Christmas lights, twelve whole seconds of history might
lead you from where you went off the track…welcome back.
Our electric version calls, you alone create the full spectrum of light,
so what could go wrong? Just as long as it sounds lost,
streaming out of the magnets
The card you're dealt by the crowd goes wild, make believe you are an only child.
Here are the clothes, please put them on. Still to come,
a new parade of faith and sparks, the electric version harks back to the day
when there was no wrong just as long as it sounds lost,
streaming out of the magnets.
FROM BLOWN SPEAKERS
When the contact high from the real life adventures wear off,
you find, in the tiny moments that bomb, your old files rain down from the sky.
And would they fall down, like cymbal crashes, would the alarm bell sound?
Would your eyelashes keep all this in time?
If not, I won't mind,.. it can be impractical.
So can you tell me why in every version of the events shown here,
there's another season that crawls by like years, from blown speakers clear?
It came out magical.
Just a contact high, one in every mood I've ever declined to fight,
one in every single exchange you might find. From blown speakers, time…
came out magical. It came out magical, out from blown speakers
THE LAWS HAVE CHANGED
It was crime at the time but the laws, we changed 'em,
though the hero for hire's forever the same one.
Introducing for the first time, Pharaoh on the microphone.
Sing all hail, what'll be revealed today when we peer into the great unknown,
from the line to the throne?
Awakened to cheers after years on the faultline,
we are shocked to be here in the face of the meantime.
Pharaoh, all your methods have taught me is to separate my blood from bone.
It will all fail, feeling what I feel today, when we peer into the great unknown,
from the line to the throne.
Form a line through here, form a line to the throne.
Alone in the chain, it remains to be seen how,
how well you can play when the pawn takes a queen now.
Introducing for the first time, Pharaoh on the microphone.
Sing all hail, what'll be revealed today when we peer into the great unknown,
from the line to the throne?
Form a line through here, form a line to the throne.
It was crime at the time but the laws have changed, yeah.
THE END OF MEDICINE
The angel cries "you bastard!" as we analyze the accent, so look out, you rock'n'rollers.
Over forty million served and that's a record for the master, it stood forever after.
So are we, are we, are we, are we facing the end of all, of all the drugs we're lacing…
with common sense and courtesy and other things we thought would be the end of us,
but now they won't allow us our intentions. Oh the mother of invention,
it's her pleasure to repeat with feeling:
Are we, are we, are we, are we facing the end of all the medicine we're taking?
Somewhere in the system there's an open ended list of all the lies we tell unblinking,
thinking, "What could we be living? Is it life or is it even in the realm of possibility?"
You see it when you're missing who you cam to see.
Is this thing even on and on and on?
Are we, are we, are we, are we facing the end of all the medicine we're taking?
LOOSE TRANSLATION
One holy ghost for a home made girl, in a green T-shirt that read, I quote:
What price damnation now?
In the school of thought, in the halls of state, with a leap of faith,
the loose translation must have lost her. It must have caused her to go back….
to the civilization caught between here and the real one,
just to say what you'd begun to say once.
We have been enrolled in the wrong schools all through the pride of fall,
the falling price of education.
There have been no clues in the last few takes, in the steps retraced,
the education must have cost her. It must have caused her to go back…
to the civilization caught between here and the real one,
just to say what you'd begun to say once.
The education must have cost her.
The loose translation must have lost her. It must have lost her, yeah.
CHUMP CHANGE
I stole a page from your book and a line from your page, and flew into a lesbian rage,
cursing mine and my own rotten luck.
Another nude descends a staircase to get fucked.
A city scene, darkness falls, now skate hard down the gallery walls.
Explore those themes, I hear your work's informed by queens, so is mine now.
There's a plague on, there's a rat-tailed ensemble burying all of our hits in the sand,
the same sand a desert uses.
Now wipe that look from your face, the world is that which is the case.
It's okay to be seen, don't dethrone the drama queen,
just for putting everybody in their place.
Go, don't stay, just throw it all away.
There is you and then there is your body.
ALL FOR SWINGING YOU AROUND
Exploding international, the scenes, the sounds,
and famously the feeling that you can't squeeze 'round,
while tearing off another page of loose change outrage.
It's another perfect day until the night shows.
Exploding international, the wind did howl,
The sky above was thick with rings of smoke and clouds,
and hanging on the bleeding end of conscious, who's this?
Was there anything I missed, as far as you know?
Was it all for swinging you around?
Exploding international, the sun, the sights,
the moments you are viewing through a beam of light,
propel you through the golden age. We crash-land the first page
on a crumbling world stage, into the front rows.
All for swinging you around.
And off your feet, all the love you found, spinning 'round.
We're twisting incognito with no time, can't talk,
can't tell if this is fantasy or culture shock,
or remnants of a golden age that's near mint unplayed,
or a welcome overstayed beneath the lightshow.
All for swinging you around.
THE FACE OF ZERO AND ONE
It's the how-to guide to become the new face of zero and one.
So fall into the new line, hanging off the truth of the times.
Parade of sisters through New York, a trail that, once it began
snaking its way through the memory of faking its way through the hallelujahs,
became a parade of sisters through New York, a trail of sisters through New York
You can't tell what the controls hide from the door that locks from the outside.
But you'll know why, one day when, when you cross the line into godsend.
In the night , asleep on the case, trust has turned from dreams we've come to know.
In the night, asleep on the case, changed the words from chase and back to follow.
TESTAMENT TO YOUTH IN VERSE
Should you go lookin' for a testament to youth in verse,
variations on the age old curse, you blame the stations when they play you like a fool
and like a fool you get played with.
Baby, think twice, maybe it's not all, maybe it's not alright.
Finally a decent picture of the exodus,
I don't know much but other singers know less, and can we control ourselves for once?
Keep off hands off each other, keep our minds on the sum… of each other.
So should you go lookin' for a testament to youth in verse,
dedications to the same old curse, don't blame the stations when they play you like a fool
and like a fool you get played with.
Baby, think twice, maybe it's not all, maybe it's not alright.
Oh my sweet witness, can't you hear the voices?
They're telling the children to rock for their choices.
The bells ring no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no……
IT'S ONLY DIVINE RIGHT
Both eyes drinking cool water,
not the first daughter so I can't see why you're wrestling with words at last,
a tradition you've long outclassed.
Come true for the new martyrs, with your hair parted like the Red Sea.
You're addressing the world from your bed, all alone in the crowd like you said.
Come true, it's only divine right.
Here's Leda in her white glory, all her back-story has been wiped clean.
Just another apocryphal mess, never promised 'em anything less.
So come true, these are safe waters for the first daughter, so I can't see
why you're pushing the pull that you've had, while the rest of the girls go bad.
Come true it's only divine right.
Slip back through the plot for the new shock, seeing us then,
when we were the real people.
Face down in the old money,
left the crowd wondering what your next move's gonna be in the moments ahead,
while the rest of the girls go bad.
Come true, it's only divine right.
BALLAD OF A COMEBACK KID
Pray for content, settle for free rent, the tenements recall Rome.
High five, look up, look alive, as the scions of history guess another mystery… wrong.
Recite your lines, and I'll quote scriptures.
Everything was fine until membership lost it's privileges.
Everyone in town wanted to be around you, this went on for awhile
until they finally found you.
Ever so careful, on the strip we cruise, crippled in someone else's shoes.
Who knew? Mind you, I never had to stand in line, you did,
in the ballad of a comeback kid.
Watch your step as you step down from the podium,
returned from the war to a hero's welcome, what's more you just had to win.
Blazing new trails, waving goodbye to the audience,
held captive, the crowd was inactive, it made such perfect sense.
Ever so careful on the strip we cruise, crippled in someone else's shoes.
Who knew? Mind you, I never had to stand in line, you did.
But you won't, Kelly says she could have.
Like a bat out of hell, time has come for you.
JULY JONES
Come clean through the waves of debris. The mind's eye is first to go,
so hang onto that number like gold.
And get thee back to the old truth, July Jones, 'cause baby there's a lot we don't know.
One of the greats, on the way, hold on.
Behind the daylight, who knew what it could feel like?
Class war held your hand through your plans and not me, but stay free.
Baby, there are worse things to be.
So lay free in your faith beside me, but lay low, 'cause baby there's a lot we don't know.
Class war kissed your lips, left you stripped to your toes,
and I know that baby it's so much to outgrow.
So get thee back to the old truth, July Jones, 'cause baby there's a lot we don't know.
MISS TEEN WORDPOWER
Our words move aimlessly through empty city squares,
collecting into mobs and angry like their prayers.
They breathe the air we fought to leave behind.
This kind of blank adventure happens all the time,
because nobody knows the wreck of the soul the way you do.
We fought to find our thoughts, the runway walked us through.
The swimsuit portion of the evening cancelled due to rain.
The pageant's called again. You'll find this kind of blank adventure happens all the time,
because nobody knows the wreck of the soul the way you do, Miss Teen Wordpower.
So we float through the streets, breathe city lights, claims of the crown forgotten.
So we float through the streets, float through the streets,
the way you do, Miss Teen Wordpower.
Nobody knows the wreck of the soul the way you do, Miss Teen Wordpower.
Mass Romantic
Mass romantic fool wears Foster Grants, his books on tape ring true, like everyone wants to say "I love you" to someone on the radio. The first voice in the hollowed stars, now the one true loves, and author of "My Life Among the Kids Who Go to Shows." This is not the way. In the streetlight dawn, this street turns on. Mass romantic fool, separated by sheets when the curtain calls you, speaking on the themes of stolen virtue missing from the radio. Now this romantic duel is into the streets, bon appetit, you've eaten me alive you realize. This is not the way. In the streetlight dawn, this beat turns on. This boy's life among the electrical lights.
The Fake Headlines
I wrote the news today in a tent outside the midway rides, and as my money flew, singing to their pockets, you could only know your shame, knowing what the good ones do. And when you see the bruises on my legs from kicking pills yeah, then you see how recklessly the pages are filled. Make headlines, believe them, come back. Want to be upside down, maybe thrown from side to side. Want to fall from the clouds, sailing like a ship at sea. Want to think out so loud that the fashion police break me. I wrote the news today, in a tent outside the midway rides, and as my money flew, singing to their pockets, I... I filled the whole front page with the catchiest words I could find, believe me, come back. Fake headlines, believe them, come back.
The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism
I say my, my slow descent into alcoholism went to my head, where I really need it, with the views that remain untreated. I say my, my, my, my slow descent into alcoholism went something like this. Salvation holdout central. I say my ever-loosening grip on the commonest courtesies slipped, from my hands when I really need her, when I need change for the parking meters. I said my, my, my, my slow descent into alcoholism it went something like this. Salvation holdout central.
Mystery Hours
Always the true one, calm, selective, staking a claim among the young defectives, far off under the nighttime, baby, crawl into the wave. Got to be cool now, unprotected, you come around every day to collect me, far off into the nighttime, baby, crawl into the wave. Come on, give it to me. Yes, those mystery hours. But officers, the rumbling, the sound of the collective crumbling, around to the ground, surrender the town. I call out the numbers, the rumble of collective thunder today, the wages are down. Come on, give it to me. Yes, those mystery hours. Mystery hours.
Jackie
Jackie you yourself said it best when you said: There's been a break in the continuum. The United States used to be lots of fun, back when the man and the myth of the sands and the cliffs composed a symphony to good works and better business. Jackie you yourself said it best when you said: One day we'll look upon a washed up Atlantic, get our kicks on an ocean of antics, and making history has never been so easy. So visualize success, but don't believe your eyes. There's a world of wisdom and pain to despise, when people get paid just to set you straight it means... Are you gonna start the sunshine? Who is gonna stop the sunshine? Visualize success, but don't believe your eyes. What's a version of the world without the will to despise it, when people get paid just to set you straight it means: Jackie
Letter From An Occupant
I'm told the eventual downfall is just a bill from the restaurant. You told me I could order the moon, babe, just as long as I shoot what I want. What the last ten minutes have taught me: bet the hand that your money's on. Where the hell have the '70s brought me? You trade me away long gone. For the love of a god, you say, not a letter from an occupant. The time that your enemy gives you, good times are not the ones you want. I cried five rivers on the way here, which one will you skate away on? The tune you'll be humming forever, all the words are replaced and wrong, with a shower of yeahs and whatevers, you trade me away long gone. For the love of a god, you say, not a letter from an occupant. Where have all the sensations gone? It's the song, the song, the song that's shaking me.
To Wild Homes
First my trusty voice cracked, like it's not plain to see, a sidewalk step, defaults on my debt to the order of society. Behold our first rate lady, as if you hadn't guessed, the homemade queen of every homecoming not so gently laid to rest. And then outside her courtyard after entering your plea you strike the right ingredient and chew the scenery. How many times must we say, this kind of inflation cannot kill us. Our backers use versions we used to unwind with, the threads of an argument lost. To wild homes we go. To wild homes we return. To wild homes we go.
The Body Says No
People of earth we have heard your station, sold your song to the United Nations. All on a dare to the heads of state, yeah, what could you do in the situation? You throw the voice you know wouldn't say yes, the body says no, no, no, no. I say: man, can you believe, she didn't need me... Heavens to betsy, come one [sic] let's see, what could be worse than the wheel of history? Rolling up over the rooms you've prayed in, what could you do in the situation? I say: man, can you believe, she didn't need me anymore than I needed her to. Am I repeating myself to tell you dreaming it's what's left of psychedelia, caught in the life of any outlaw nation, what can you do in the situation?
Execution Day
Oh blast I drank the wrong draft down, two sips from your crown, the drops you left for me, am I so easily appeased? Madrigal, why didn't you come out today, you promised to play. Marigold, why didn't you come out today, we promised to play fair. You were already there. You were ready to cast our fate to the wind, to try your hand at everything, what a cinch it would have been had we been there. Those trials are held for tuning in and smiles are stretched to be shown, so when you claim to see for miles it's not but I believe it's true. Yes, trials are held for tuning in, and smiles are stretched to be worn, so when you claim to see for miles you don't but I believe you do. On this day that began as execution day, and sure enough became execution day. On this day that began as execution day, and true to form became execution day.
Centre For Holy Wars
It's such a dream-like view from the ceiling where every feeling is a part of [the] fall. Kneeling out on the front lawn, rise to occasions, grass stains and all. Exactly where we are, at the centre for holy wars, I hope it never comes down again. Floating in the air, with the stars of the holy wars, I hope it never comes down again. Nearly but never arrested, but oh Contessa, asleep in the stall, still you somehow have bested the other contestants, grass stains and all. Because hope grows greener than grass stains. Hope grows greener than grass stains.
The Mary Martin Show
With a map of the endtimes I can follow a straight line to the old Mary Martin Show. Should we go? Since we learned our guitar parts, to the music that once started it off. Mary Martin, they don't come any closer than that now. With the musical guest on, you were singing the theme song to the old Mary Martin Show. Did you know? With your cameras in action, with your network connections, it's go. Mary Martin, they don't come any closer than that now. Mary Martin, the hope of every actor in their role. To aim far too, far too low. All the rain on that morning was so shiny and boring. It was gold, Mary Martin, know it was gold. With a book of guitar chords, some alright to good words, it sold. Mary Martin, they don't come any closer than that now. Mary Martin, the hope of every punchline that you throw.
Breakin' The Law
I can never place the name with the face. Don't touch me, don't touch me up, to the tee, by the numbers. It's not much but I'm going under. Liar, Liar, everything's on fire. So I don't want to hear how you crossed the wires. Don't touch me, don't touch me up, watch I'll take it to the river. You'll come to, little indian giver. So give us the keys now, we'll burn this hall of justice down. Around the ankles, or just to the ground. Hats off to the city fathers, they're no longer a hundred feet tall. They're no longer, no longer, and we're just here, another hundred feet stronger. Yeah! |
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