1. |
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What were you expecting? Fireworks over Versailles?
All I felt was trepidation as we pulled into the Finland Station to kiss the empire goodbye
Don't you know it's not freedom I crave? It's just a little tenderness before I hit the grave
You've been preparing, like Columbus with his bearings, as if our love is here to be discovered
But our unhappy capers will never make the papers
We're just nothing special lovers, like a billion others
Don't you know it's not freedom I crave? It's just a little tenderness before I hit the grave
Tonight the moon is full, and we are free men
You push me up against the wonder of it all, with opera glasses, a bible, and a hatpin
What am I supposed to do with these things?
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2. |
King Of May
03:33
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Street cafe, Christmas white horse
Blowjob on your mind after closing time
Crisco disco, midnight powder puff
Winfield anyhow, we're all niggers now
I'm on the north side of you, waiting for you
All the doors open for you
All the boys fall to their knees
The coke is laid out near the brown velvet couch
And I'd give anything just to see
I'm on the south side of you, waiting for you
Can't wake, can't sleep, ticktock razorblade
Bitch and bucketbong falling sideways
Redlight parlourgame, don't know his name
He just washed up, honey, after the rains came
I'm on the outside of you, waiting for you
Twisted plotline, way past hometime
Third act rap on the back door of my life
Kitchen crybaby, kisses, King of May
Stones once precious, dead leaves falling away
I'm on the inside of you, waiting for you
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3. |
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Bunking up on the divan
I've got the strip heater burning and I'm waiting for Rudy to return
With his boots throwing sparks across the kitchen floor
Hermes' wings are tied onto his ankles
They've been there since he was born
I tumble right out of a dream, into the face of Cuddy, with his broken guitar
Last night, his soul sprung a leak, and the music spilled all across the sheets
And those symphonies still glisten on his cheeks, as he stands before me, shivering now
Tumble down, little man
Tumble right into my hands
It's alright, I will be waiting on the other side
Waiting to take you out wide
Maybe this time I'll come and follow you over
Lord knows, I never got that familiar with the undiscovered
I was happy just to live on the street where the pilgrims weary feet would beat me out a lullaby
Made a decision, I made a rule
No more trying to get babies out of mules
No more trying to put blood back in the stone
But it's gotta be done and its gotta be now
Cuddy, take me down!
Right now, I'm cooling my heels, swaying a little to the music as it peels away
Cuddy's left me here all restless and aware
Where could he be? And how will he get there?
Rudy's late, I hear him fumble at the gate
The radio screeches from the static he creates
He's leading a procession of acolytes and saints, on a mission
Gets me wondering as they gather round me whispering
Cuddy's there, he stands me on a chair, draws a halo in the air
And he smiles as he talks: "Behold! The avatar of nothingness in a button down shirt!"
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4. |
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The mystic kiss of Whitman and Mr. Wilde
Has landed on my lips and I don't know how
To pass it on before the moment's gone
To drop my transatlantic bomb into your smile
Goodnight, Bob Denver, you ain't never going home
You're stuck here with the skipper and me
But don't give up, 'coz sometimes dreams get lifted up
To land on someone else's island for a while
Years just go, moment they flow
Little kisses and near misses, they come and go
The thunder is creeping and the lightning is in bloom
The whole town is sleeping
Except maybe me, and except maybe you
A quiet storm is coming in from the west wall
And Joshu's dog is howling in the hall
Bad times get left behind
When you turn up with your hard-on
And your cheap red wine
You bring your bongoes and your John Coltrane
Your epiphany in Mahler in the middle of the rain
I got American jazz nowhere blowing in my brain
I got light on your face
And sound coming in at the main vein
Bootsy's truth and truth is Bootsy
That's all I know or I ever need to know
Open the window, turn up the bass
Let's feel the psychic wind blowing cool on our faces
You be Basho, I'll be the moon in the lake
Fall right in, I promise my arms won't break
We'll pass the Ten Bulls, maybe The Gateless Gate
And end up meeting Lao Tze over coffee and cake
I got a ticket from Walden to Paradise Garage
From CBGBs to the fall of the Raj
I got a ghost shirt, a pillow, an umbrella full of stars
And you can have it all if I can come for the laugh
We are the carpetbaggers, the Bewlay Brothers
Savants maybe, maybe just dumb motherfuckers
Caught in a minute on the frontside of dawn
Standing on the verge of gettin' it on
I spent too much time waiting to be born
Standing on the verge of getting' it on
At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month
It's just you, me, here, at the frontside of dawn
Standing on the verge of getting' it on.
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5. |
A Little Piece Of Time
02:46
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It's so crowded in this stillness as it comes around
I'm half wake but I'm rushing to fit within this precioushood of slowing down to nothing
It's a cruise on the tabletop that never moves
And with you her beside me,it's like nothing to prove
As cool as we want to
I fell off of the back of the cart
I broke my watch and stopped my heart
All I wanted: A little piece of time
Breathe if you dare, move if you must
I'll just gop on drawing crazy patterns in the dust
Tell me another time about the way your mother would stare into space for an hour
What was she thinking? I think that I'm thinking it, too
Too much in too little time
Just enough left to pay the check and catch a ride home
Before Orion lifts his shaky arm in the west, right over your house
But from your house, I guess, he's rising over mine
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6. |
Hophead
04:40
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I'm limping through days of wine and plenty of overtime
Stone in my shoe, you put it there I saw you
Hophead, return, enough of holidays
Drop that sugar cone, make the highway burn
My bottle's bursting
Drab & dreary, I feel like an urchin
Hophead, come home
Just like coming home, heading south on Saturday
I dance alone, wretched to the bone
I don't mind at all, I have my dinner of cigarettes
I fly my kite through the disco lights
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7. |
Soulfucker
03:46
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Dare to put your fingers through his hair
It looks to me like he's been waiting there
So damn long he's been waiting there
The way you try to put a hex upon his life
The way you dazzle him just stings his eyes
Your easy brilliance it just stings his eyes
I don't know if you can give him relief
But you're the gentle soulfucker who got him all teased
This cannot be done with just one kiss
You have to lose yourself to give him rrom
Close your pretty mouth and give him room
But don't you go; step into something you don't know
Let go the tourniquet, his blood just flows
Into yours, honey; feel it flow
If you try to teach the birdies how to fly
You'll get them thinking that they're scared of the sky
They'll soon be walking 'coz they're scared of the sky
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8. |
Payin' My Dues
04:32
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My hands are grasping for your jeans, unbuckle
I'm a protestant jewboy undergrad 1983
Am I the first to discover
What's beneath a young man's covers?
Thin & shiny, trembling like me
I got a rocket (you know where)
From just looking at you
Golden threads run through your hair
(It kills me!)
In the basement it ain't so clear
(You learn to judge them by their shoes)
A boy's gotta get an education somewhere
I'm just payin' my dues
Like all good boys do
It ain't pretty but it makes me ready
Payin' my dues
God bless the steeplejacks, the bastinado washroom hacks
Bless all the cautious Kates who lick the edges of the plate
Bless all of the jet boys and all the swooning Fauntleroys
The avatars, the fakirs & the spies
Sometimes it means a little more
A tenderness that somehow got unloosed
Boys of our persuasion get tired of all this desperation
We're just tryin' to get through
We're just payin' our dues
Like all good boys do
It ain't pretty, but it makes us ready
Payin' our dues
I was born with someone's tongue in my mouth
I'm a substitute for a guy you oughta meet
But this bird that cums right in your hand must be
Better than the ocean-eyed Ulysses in your dreams
Where is he? Might be behind the next tree
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9. |
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When's it gonna come, the hand to milk my loving?
Who's it gonna be and will he have some money?
Will we live on beans and dope and magazines?
Have I already met him in my stupid, stupid dreams?
Can I get closer to the fire?
Can I wake up now (I'm no longer tired)?
Can I take off the Art Garfunkel wig
And put on my Leif Garret pants?
If they still fit, maybe I can still dance
Send me a smile from wherever you are
Stop me wishing on those FM radio stars
Send a sign, so I know I'm not wasting time
Hanging out on streetcorners asking strangers the time
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10. |
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I was in a Holden Sandman
Givin' my cherry to a boy named Jerry
Too much Malibu & wanderin' hands
I left my ankle bracelet there in the sand
I tried to find it come first light
When I couldn't, how I cried
Made my way up the north coast inch by inch
Every damn Leagues Club, every unmanned beach
Every Ardath smoked under the stars
Every sales rep with a Datsun
Full of boxes of cross-your-heart bras
By Red Rock, too uptight
I disappeared into the Woolgoolga night
Nobody knows where I'm going
Nobody knows where I"ve been
Nobody knows anything, not even me
Mary Queen of Ocean Shores
Seven years on the Northern Rivers
Too many drugs and not enough livers
I was there the summer the drummers went mad
I took 'em in, gave 'em back the natural rhythm they had
And all I got was crabs and a month in rehab
I was in a Lismore St. Vincent de Paul
One dollar left for a mum-come-rescue-me call
Too much hangover and wanderin' hands
When I found my ankle bracelet
In the junk jewellery stand
I tried to keep that dollar tight
But the bangle was so pretty in the light
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11. |
Party Favour
02:46
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Right now, I could lay you out and kiss you
Under the coloured lights
With the stink of port on your breath
And the cigarette holes in your shirt
I reach out & connect the lines
Here, in the cold, I feel hungry & old
I need something real, something so, so precious
And I think that you got it, locked in your pocket
You just don't wanna show it
For fear that I'll break it
Trust me, I'm not the kind to be careless
I'm not the careless kind
I have not come to set fire to the palace
Just to say that I've seen it
Once in my life
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12. |
Fuck Art Let's Dance
00:52
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