watch the band through a bunch of dancers
quickly, follow the unknown with something more familiar.
quickly something familiar
courage, my word it did'nt come it doesn't matter
sleepwalk, so fast asleep in a motel
that has the lay of home and piss on all of your
background and piss on all your surroundings
courage, my word, id didn't come, it doesn't matter
courage, it couldn't come at a worse time
so there's no simple explanation
for anything important any of us do
and yea the human tragedy
consists in the necessity
of living with the consequences
under pressure, under pressure.
courage, my word, it didn't come, it doesn't matter,
courage, it couldn't come at a worse time.
i've got a job, i explore, i follow every little whiff
and i want my life to smell like this
to find a place, an ancient race
the kind you'd like to gamble with
where they'd stamp on burning bags of shit.
looking for a place to happen
making stops along the way
wayward ho! away we go,
it's a shame to leave this masterpiece
with its' gallery gods and its' garbage-bag trees
so i'll paint a scene, from memory,
so i'd know who murdered me
it's a vain pursuit, but it helps me to sleep
looking for a place to happen
making stops along the way
jacques cartier, right this way,
i'll put your coat up on the bed
hey man you've got a real bum's eye for clothes
and come on in, sit right down,
no you're not the first to show
we've all been here since, god, who knows?
looking for a place to happen,
making stops along the way.
me debunk an american myth?
and take my life in my hands?
where the great plains begin,
at the hundredth meridian.
at the hundredth meridian,
where the great plains begin
driving down a corduroy road,
weeds standing shoulder high
ferris wheel is rusting off in the distance
at the hundredth meridian where the great plains begin
left alone to get gigantic;
hard, huge and haunted
a generation so much dumber than its' parents came
crashing through the window.
a raven strains along the line of the road,
carrying a muddy, old skull.
the wires whistle their approval,
off down the distance.
at the hundredth meridian where the great plains begin
i remember, i remember buffalo and i remember hengelo
it would seem to me i remember every
single bloody, warm and horrible thing i know ['bucking thing']
if i die of vanity, promise me, promise me,
they bury me someplace i don't want to be,
you'll dig me up and transport me, unceremoniously,
away from the swollen city-breeze, garbage-bag trees,
whispers of disease amd the acts of enormity
and lower me slowly, sadly and properly
get ry cooder to sing my eulogy,
at the hundredth meridian where the great plains begin.
it was handsome at the auction,
oh but when we got it home,
it grew into something we could
no longer contain
where's our pigeon camera,
by now he could be anywhere
and after all that training.
and after all that training,
something we could no longer contain.
it's boring, i'm embarrassed,
i don't endorse that, i didn't want this
this house it has it politics;
over there that's my room
and that's my sister's.
and that's my sister,
something we could no longer contain
it's boring, i'm embarrassed,
i don't endorse that; i didn't want this,
it's horrific, i'm embarrassed,
i didn't want that, i didn't want this
it's like we burned our boots with no
contingency plan
cold wind blowing over your private parts
i know a lack you've got
and it makes a strong case for art.
billboard breasts, they don't have a face,
i know that fact you've got,
no girl could ever trace. lionized,
smoking just a little too violently
i know that fact i've got
and i know it single-mindedly
stupid, stoned cause and effect
i know a lack you've got
and you don't even lack it yet.
lionized, lionize
i can't draw, but i can trace
i know a lack i've got,
an abundance of extra space
cold wind blowing over your private parts
i know a lack you've got is to make a
strong case for art. lionized, lionize
morning broke out the backside of a truck-stop
the end of a line a real, rainbow-likeing, luck stop
where you could say i became chronologically "sick and
ashamed and happy".
put ten bucks in just to get the tank topped off.
then, i found a place it's dark and it's rotted.
it's a cool, sweet kinda-place
where the copters won't spot it
and i destroyed the map, i even thought i forgot it,
however, every-day i'm dumping the body.
it'd be better for us if you don't understand.
it'd be better for me if you don't understand
they don't know how old i am,
they found armour in my belly
from the 16th century, conquistador, i think.
they don't know how old i am,
they found armour in my belly.
passion out of machine-revving tension, lashing
out at machiine-revving tension, brushing by the
machine-revving tension.
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to boldly clap in a room full of nothing
you never know, it could be one of those
poignant evenings. museum's locked and it's
long since past closing, you cannot know, you cannot
not know what you're knowing what can you do, they're all
gone and we'll go too.
the curtain climbs over me every morning. i don't know why
i'm so immunized against reforming. to coldly slap
at a face full of nothing, you never know it could've
been one of those looks of long. what can you do, they're all
gone and we'll go too.
bring me back in shackles,
hang me long out in the sun,
exonerate me, forget about me
i recommend measures for ending it.
lover, she simply slammed the door.
she said, "you're gonna miss me."
wait and you'll see." fully, completely
i ponder the endlessness of the stars,
ignoring said same of my father.
either it'll move me
or it'll move right through me;
fully, completely
bill barilko disappeared that summer,
he was on a fishing trip.
the last goal he ever scored
won the leafs the cup
they didn't win another until 1962,
the year he was discovered.
i stole this from a hockey card,
i keep tucked up under
my fifty mission cap, i worked it in
to look like that
sundown in the paris of the prairies
wheat kings have all their treasures buried
and all you hear are the rusty breezes
pushing around the weather vane jesus
in his zippo lighter, he sees the killer's face
maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place
twenty years for nothing, well that's nothing new,
besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do
wheat kings and pretty things,
let's just see what the morning brings.
there's a dream where the high school is dead and stark
it's a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark
where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister
hung with pictures of our parents' prime ministers
wheat kings and pretty things,
wait and see what tomorrow brings.
late-breaking story on the cbc,
a nation whispers, "we always knew that he'd go free"
they add, "you can't be fond of living in the past,
cause if you are then there's no way that you're gonna last".
wheat kings and pretty things
let's just see what tomorrow brings
wheat kings and pretty things,
that's what tomorrow brings.
richard talks too slow
he'd get interrupted long before
i always loved that guy
and he's not on t.v. anymore.
to get out before he had
the wherewithal to get out before
he had the wherewithal
you've got to coax him slow,
that's the only way that he'll confess.
tell him that the truth will
help him live with less.
to get out before he had the wherewithal
to get out before he had the wherewithal.
that's a breathy body of work
set your sights inward for a leaner look.
richard died real slow,
he won't get interrupted anymore.
i always loved that guy
and he's not on t.v. anymore.
to get out before he had the
wherewithal to get out before
he had the wherewithal
he's a man-sized eldorado, hooved a doo
and who could blame him. where we going?
what's the ticket? just the mention of berlin makes me sexy
and tired of thinking about drinking
for thinking of drinking while thinking
about drinking and thinking about drinking
it's a man-sized inside
look in here it's all hardwood.
what's that smell? smells like coffee
if you regret it please say something,
i've got no genius for evil that makes me common
and tired of loving, recovering, loving, recovering loving recovering
recovering. it's a man-sized inside.
he's a man sized - eldorado, whoopty-do
if you can't take it. where he's going?
what's that ticking?
just the mention of berlin makes me sexy
and tired of thinking about drinking for thinking
of drinking while thinking about drinking and thinking about drinking.
tired of loving recovering loving recovering loving recovering loving
recovering. it's a man-sized inside. it's a man-sized inside
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