"I hope you understand that the knowledge I bring, puts me in the position of a god or a king"

Clawfinger - Biggest and the Best

Hurt me baby.
I flinch so when you do.
Your kisses scourge me. Hyssop in your perfume.
Oh, I do not fear you.
And slave, I only use as a word to describe the special way I feel for you.
You look like me.
And I look like no one else.
We need no other. As long as we have ourselves.
But I won't cry about it.
Every time you became obsessed and everytime I came undressed.
All Ugly thoughts are gone. I'm sure we'll all be friends. I'll try to break your back
You'll try to make amends.
Curse softly to me baby and smother me in your love.
Temptation comes not from hell, but from above.
And theres blood on my teeth when I bite my tongue to speak.
Zip me down, kiss me there.
I can smile now.
You won't find out ever.

my curse by afghan whigs.

One day he woke up and he was ill
He tried to be like us
He tried to kill
all our friends
We locked him in a cage but he was still
loud and so we left
We don't know him anymore

We heard of him in 1985
He attacked three people with a knife
When he died we didn't shed a tear
This alien was ill.
We don't love him anymore

Was nice to watch him play
with the big toys
we never thought he could be so cruel

You never watched him play
with the big toys
we never thought he could be so cruel


The Notwist - The Incredible Change of Our Alien

Ina dark place, thus explainign my abscence. So from forth the darkness, I whisper:
Leonard Cohen
"A Thousand Kisses Deep"

The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it’s done –
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it’s real,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
You lose your grip, and then you slip
Into the Masterpiece.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep:
You ditch it all to stay alive,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

Confined to sex, we pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck.
I blessed our remnant fleet –
And then consented to be wrecked,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
I guess they won’t exchange the gifts
That you were meant to keep.
And quiet is the thought of you,
The file on you complete,
Except what we forgot to do,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

in a bit of a dark mood meself....

Kill The Christian

You are the one we despise
Day in day out your words compromise lives
I will love watching you die
Soon it will be and by your own demise

Buried in hypocrisy
Lacerate your faith in god
Morally diseased
On the cross of Calvary your body bashed, defeated, stabbed

Blessing as you hate
Loyal to your enemies
Monetary faith
As him you'll pay for the lies of your prophecy
Satan wants you dead

Kill the christian, kill the christian
Kill the christian, kill the christian
Kill the christian, kill the christian
Kill the christian

Armies of darkness unite
Destroy their temples and churches with fire
Where in his world will you hide
Sentenced to death, the anointment of christ

In due time your path leads to me
Put you out of your misery

The death of prediction
Kill the christian

Kill the christian...dead!


Deicide/Kill the Christian.

Mark Lanegan was in rare form on Field Songs. A couple of his best:

One Way Street

The stars and the moon
Aren't where they're supposed to be
For the strange electric light
It falls so close to me
Love, I come to ride
High on that seasick rolling wave
And you know that I am
Just trying to get out
Oh the glorious sound
Oh the one way street
But you can't get
Can't get it down without crying
When I'm dressed in white
Send roses to me
I drink so much sour whiskey I can't hardly see
And everywhere I've been
There's a well that howls my name
From the one tiny sting
To that vacant fame
Oh the deafening roar
Remember that's called a one way street
And you can't get
Can't get it down without crying
Mystery's a sigh
You can't get out
In the psychotropic light, you can't get out
Love, I come to ride
High on that seasick rolling wave
That's the way that I fall, trying to get out
Oh the glorious sound
Of the one way street
And you can't get
Can't get it down without crying
Oh the deafening roar
It's called a one way street



No Easy Action

When all is done and turned to dust
And insects nest inside my bones, I see
I stagger in a daze outside my tent
No time for being alone
To bleed
The hopeless singing of a round
That much we know to do
Before we go back underground
No easy action
Sparks fill the air some nights
Crows look for food behind my skin
Beneath
Try our best to dig it in
And keep the cold away, I see
That the sky is a vanishing place
And then there's nothing to miss
No time to get out of the ice
No easy action
Although all else may turn to dust
And insects nest inside my bones, I see
I stagger in a daze to find what you meant
Where it's good to be alone
Bleed
The hopeless singing of a round
Before that vanishing place
Before we're back underground
No easy action

16 Shells From a Thirty-Ought-Six


I plugged 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
and a Black Crow snuck through
a hole in the sky
so I spent all my buttons on an
old pack mule
and I made me a ladder from
a pawn shop marimba
and I leaned it up against
a dandelion tree

And I filled me a sachel
full of old pig corn
and I beat me a billy
from an old French horn
and I kicked that mule
to the top of the tree
and I blew me a hole
'bout the size of a kickdrum
and I cut me a switch
from a long branch elbow

Chorus
I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six
whittle you into kindlin'
Black Crow 16 shells from a thirty-ought-six

Well I slept in the holler
of a dry creek bed
and I tore out the buckets
from a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
with the strings of a Washburn
stretched like a clothes line
you know me and that mule scrambled right through the hole

Repeat Chorus

Now I hold him prisoner
in a Washburn jail
that stapped on the back
of my old kick mule
strapped it on the back of my old kick mule
I bang on the strings just
to drive him crazy
I strum it loud just to rattle his cage
strum it loud just to rattle his cage

Repeat Chorus

I had the pleasure of seeing Tom Waits live in 98. best show ever.

Anyone on the board know Slint?

Let me in, the voice cried softly,
from outside the wooden door.
Scattered remnants of the ship could be seen in the distance.
Blood stained the icy wall of the shore.

I'm the only one left. The storm, took them all,
He managed, as he tried to stand.
The tears ran down his face.
Please, it's cold.

When he woke, there was no trace of the ship.
Only the dawn was left behind by the storm.
He felt the creaking of the stairs beneath him.
That rose, from the sea, to the door.

There was a sound at the window then.
The captain started, his breath was still.
Slowly, he turned.

From behind the edge of the windowsill
there appeared the delicate hand of a child.
His face was flush and timid.
He stared at the captain through frightened eyes.

The captain reached for something to hold on to,
Help me, he whispered, as he rose slowly to his feet.
The boy's face went pale,
He recognized the sound.

Silently, he pulled down the shade against the shadow.
Lost in the doorstep of the empty house.

I'm trying to find my way home.

I'm sorry...
...and I miss you.

I miss you.
I've grown taller now.
I want the police to be notified.
I'll make it up to you,
I swear, I'll make it up to you.

I miss you.


Slint - Good Morning, Captain

Well, I was drunk the night my momma got out of prison
And I went to pick her up in the rain
But before I could get to the station in my pickup truck
She got run over by a goddamned train

Excerpt, You Never Even Called Me By My Name (The Perfect Country & Western Song)

Written By Steve Goodman
As performed by Brendan Nolan

GOOD FRIDAY

We've been avoiding this for so long
Luxury is temporary than it's gone
I thought that we would happen,
I guess I'm wrong
We'll say hi on the street,
then we'll move along
I know this will be awkward
but not for long,
Cause soon you'll have a new boy
to sing you songs

I will not forgive you,
Nor will I accept the blame
I will see you on Good Friday
On Good Friday

I'm sorry I couldn't do this yesterday
and tomorrow I am busy and what
it is I can't say
And Saturday's no good,
I got a show
So it's got to be Good Friday,
Then it's so long

You, You come and go when you please
I know unfulfilled heads
I know you do too
But I, you know I never see
things through,
Never paid attention to you
But honey I tried.

-- those Robinson brothers

This message has been edited. Last edited by: tigerstripes,

quote:

---

Originally posted by the aleph:
Anyone on the board know _Slint_?

Slint - Good Morning, Captain

---

Was Slint made up of ex-members of Squirrel Bait? or was it ex-members of Dinosaur Jr.?

Right! Three of them were in Squirrel Bait. No Dinosaur Jr. though. Most prominent of the members is probably Dave Pajo, who afterwards played with Tortoise and Zwan. I highly recommend Slint's (only) album 'Spiderland', which is from 1991 and (in my opinion) still ahead of its time...

Bad Religion's Greg Graffin is one of the most remarkable lyricists i know of. i've posted this once before but i feel it deserves to be here too.

Struck a Nerve

there's an old man on a city bus
holding a candycane
and it isn't even christmas
he sees a note in the obituary
that his last friend has died
there's an infant clinging
to his overweight mother in the cold
as they go to shop for cigarettes
and she spends her last dollar
on a bottle of vodka for tonight

and i guess it struck a nerve
like i had to squint my eyes
you can never get out
of the line of sight
like a barren winter day
or a patch of unburned green
like a tragic real dream
i guess it struck a nerve

everyday i wander
in negative disposition
as i'm bombarded by superlatives
realizing very well
that i am not alone
introverted
i look to tomorrow for salvation
but i'm thinking altruistically
and a wave of overwhelming doubt
turns me to stone

and i guess it struck a nerve
sent a murmer through my heart
we just haven't got time
to crack the maze
like a magic speeding clock
or a cancer in our cells
a collision in the dark
i guess it struck a nerve

i try to close my eyes
but i cannot ignore the stimuli
if there's a purpose for us all
it remains a secret to me
don't ask me to justify my life

RS: hmm. longtime pixies fan and longtime bowie fan. only just bothered to look it up. cactus was indeed written by the pixies and covered by bowie, not vice versa.

[austin powers]
Saucy
[/austin powers]

Bob Dylan, one of the best

Desolation Row

They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row.

Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row.

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row.
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row.

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
You would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row.

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row.
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In a perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get outa here if you don't know"
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row.

At midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row.

They be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
Everybody's shouting
"Which side are you on ?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row.
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
About the time the door knob broke
When you asked me how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke ?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Dont send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row.

On promenades where drunks propose to lonely arcade mannequins
Where ceremonies pause at the jeweller's shop display
Feigning casual silence in strained romantic interludes
Till they commit themselves to the muted journey home
And the pool player rests on another cue
Last nights hero picking up his dues
A honeymoon gambled on a ricochet
She's staring at the brochures at the holidays

Chalking up a name in your hometown
Standing all your mates to another round
Laughing at the world till the barman wipes away the warm wet circles
The warm wet circles

I saw teenage girls like gaudy moths
A classroom's shabby butterflies
Flirt in the glow of stranded telephone boxes
Planning white lace weddings from smeared hearts and token proclamations
Rolled from stolen lipsticks across the razored webs of glass
Sharing cigarettes with experience with her giggling jealous confidantes
She faithfully traces his name with quick bitten fingernails
Through the tears of condensation that'll cry through the night
As the glancing headlights of the last bus kiss adolescence goodbye
In a warm wet circle

Like a mothers kiss on your first broken heart, a warm wet circle
Like a bullet hole in Central Park, a warm wet circle
And I'll always surrender to the warm wet circles

She nervously undressed in the dancing beams of the Fidra lighthouse
Giving it all away before it's too late
She'll let a lovers tongue move in a warm wet circle
Giving it all away and showing no shame
She'll take a mother's kiss on her first broken heart a warm wet circle
She'll realise that she played her part in a warm wet circle

- Warm Wet Circles - Marillion

quote:

---

Originally posted by the aleph:
h Tortoise and Zwan. I highly recommend Slint's (only) album 'Spiderland', which is from 1991 and (in my opinion) still ahead of its time...

---

Thanks for the reminder. Went diving into my collection and I do indeed have spiderland. I was a big Squirrel Bait fan.

when it comes to björk, i'm partial to hyperballad:

We live on a mountain
Right at the top
There's a beautiful view
From the top of the mountain
Every morning I walk towards the edge
And throw little things off
Like:
Car parts, bottles and cutlery
Or whatever I find lying around

It's become a habit
A way
To start the day

I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you

It's early morning
No one is awake
I'm back at my cliff
Still throwing things off
I listen to the sounds they make
On their way down
I follow with my eyes 'til they crash
Imagine what my body would sound like
Slamming against those rocks

When it lands
Will my eyes
Be closed or open?

I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you

And if there's crack in a basement
Crack heads stand adjacent
Anger displacement
Two step arangements
You were a still born baby
Mother didn't want you, but you were still born
Boy meets world, of course his pops is gone
What you figga
That chalky outline on the ground is a father figure
So he steps to the next stencil, that's a hustler
Infested with money and diamond cluster
Lets talk in laymen terms
Rotten apples and big worms
Early birds and poachers
New York is evil at it's core, so those who have more than them
Prepare to be victims
Ate up by vultures, the politicians
In a dog eat dog culture, that'll sick 'em
Lack of mineral, we take it personal
A pigeon can't drop shit if it never flew
Every day is no frills, empty krills
Broken 40 bottles and m.c's with skills
I rest my head on 115
But miracles only happen on 34th, so I guess life is mean
And death is the median
And purgatory is the mode that we settle in
"No doubt"
I've got that Eve's Bayou sense of touch
So I fought, to touch every hand of a fan to read their thoughts
Battered wives, molested children
Roaches on the floor, rats in the ceiling
Cats walk around New York with two fillin's
One is in their mouth the other, does the killin'


Cannibal Ox - Iron Galaxy