Plot
JESSE SANCHEZ, an artist/comedian gives the performance of his life. During a New Year's party, Jesse fakes a suicide attempt wrapping a retractable dog leash around his neck, accidentally knocks himself out, and sinks into the waters of his bathtub. Jesse gets the chance to reflect, possibly for the last time, upon his life and love. Known for his envelope pushing performances, Jesse's near death experience bends reality to stage and back again. He takes the audience across the universe of his life's greatest love stories, his quest for fame and the connection both play in understanding who he is underneath it all. With a bump on his head and a bruise on his heart, Jesse finds his way, reconciling with the fates, emerging from the tub to return to the stage a new man...well, at least a man with one hell of a story to tell.
Keywords: comedian, exclamation-point-in-title, one-word-title, punctuation-in-title
Plot
A man's face is visible in his bubble bath. He's Brian, thinking back to when he was five and his Chatty Cathy Halloween doll disappeared. The reverie becomes a meditation on his relationship with his mother, an acerbic, unhappy, wickedly profane character, abandoned by the lad's father. After dad leaves, mom chain smokes and develops emphysema. At 16, Brian sets out to lose his virginity; at his return at 4 a.m., mom confronts him. Once an adult, Brian calls her on rare occasions, and she sometimes calls him. Sons and mothers: is it love despite the spite?
Keywords: abusive-mother, gay-interest
Plot
In a low-risk mental hospital near Rutland, Vermont, Vincent goes berserk days before he's to be released, kills four staff, and escapes. The next morning, just before the release of waters from the local dam, a couple named Scott and Terry decide to find some money Scott's brother stole and hid years before: the water will soon cover the spot, and Scott needs the money for an operation to correct a bone disease that's crippling him. Complicating things is the fact that Scott's older brother is the local chief detective, searching for Vincent. The two stories cross when Vincent takes Terry hostage as Scott faces drowning from the rising waters.
Keywords: independent-film
You learn a lot in the streets.
Plot
Fred Williamson stars as Stone, a Los Angeles-area private eye. After a movie star's funeral, the star's signature walking cane disappears. Stone discovers that the cane is somehow connected to a string of murders. Stone's investigation takes him onto a porn movie set and into a religious cult. A major subplot involves Stone's intermittent relationship with a young bisexual woman, and the tension therein.
Keywords: african-american, baptism, barefoot, based-on-novel, beach, bisexual, blaxploitation, cane, car-chase, cocktail-party
Whenever the cane turns up, someone turns up dead. Black Eye knows why.
Dole: California... huh... you're all freaks here.
Plot
Despite the slapstick atmosphere there, the inhabitants of Moms' theatrical boarding house in Harlem are broke and in danger of losing their home. For some ready cash, they trick a producer into helping them put on a show, featuring a variety of black specialty acts.
Keywords: actor-shares-first-name-with-character, african-american
A mother (or mum/mom) is a woman who has raised a child, given birth to a child, and/or supplied the ovum that united with a sperm which grew into a child. Because of the complexity and differences of a mother's social, cultural, and religious definitions and roles, it is challenging to specify a universally acceptable definition for the term. The male equivalent is a father.
From Middle English moder, From Latin māter (“mother”), partly via late-Middle English matere. from Old English mōdor, from Proto-Germanic *mōdēr (cf. East Frisian muur, Dutch moeder, German Mutter), from Proto-Indo-European *méh₂tēr (cf. Irish máthair, Tocharian A mācar, B mācer, Lithuanian mótė). Cognates include Common Slavic *mati (thence Russian мать (mat’)), Persian مادر (madar), Mycenaean Greek 𐀔𐀳𐀩 (ma-te-re), and Sanskrit मातृ (mātṛ).
In the case of a mammal such as a human, a pregnant woman gestates a fertilized ovum. A fetus develops from the viable fertilized ovum or "embryo." Gestation occurs in the woman's uterus from conception until the fetus (assuming it is carried to term) is sufficiently developed to be born. The woman experiences labor and gives birth. Usually, once the baby is born, the mother produces milk via the lactation process. The mother's breast milk is the source of anti-bodies for the infant's immune system and commonly the sole source of nutrition for the first year or more of the child's life.
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Pine trees in the playgrounds
Around the empty school
A diary full of diagrams
A boy, perhaps a girl
Embarrassing confessions
Of a strange, forbidden love
On the cliffs above the river
He asks himself forever
Is there any reason not to die
If this love I feel must always be denied?
Summer holiday 1999
This rush to live
Summer holiday 1999
This wish to die
This purity, as cold as spring snow
In the wind on the island of Hokkaido
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
I long to see your face
From every angle all at once
Just like the faces in a Cubist composition
I remember in a film I saw they scanned somebody's
brain
With a machine that let you feel all his emotion
Well I know that that was only science fiction
But I'm dying to make you feel the way I feel
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
Summer holiday 1999
This rush to live
Summer holiday 1999
This wish to die
This purity, as cold as spring snow
I was born to be a girlish boy
And my lover is a boyish girl
And if everyone could be this way
We could change the world
In the rough and tumble of boisterous horseplay
I will probably cry
For my girlfriend is a boyish girl
And I am a girlish boy
(Goddamn it you fucker I wanna be alone!)
(Goddamn it you fucker I wanna be alone!)
I was born to be a girlish boy
And my lover is a boyish girl
And if everyone could be this way
We could change the world
In the rough and tumble of boisterous horseplay
I will probably cry
For my girlfriend is a boyish girl
And I am a girlish boy
(Goddamn it you fucker I wanna be alone!)
(Goddamn it you fucker!)
I was born to be a girlish boy
And my lover is a boyish girl
And if everyone could be this way
We could change the world
In the rough and tumble of our lovemaking
I will probably cry
For my girlfriend is a boyish girl
And I am a girlish boy
(Goddamn it you fucker I wanna be alone!)
(Goddamn it you ..... )
(Goddamn it you fucker!)
(Goddamn it you fucker I wanna be alone!)
In the rough and tumble of our lovemaking
I will probably cry
For my girlfriend is a boyish girl
After the ritual suicide of Mr Mickey Mouse
On his outrageous throne of blood in Cinderella's House
On the blue suburban line I met a careless god
Past the pines by the glassy meadow
Where the coaches jerk a little
The birdcatcher of Hades took his net of flesh and bone
The headless horse was talking on the kitten's
telephone
In the house of horrors I had recently burnt down
It was a stormy night for the tartan babes on a rocky
mountain track
When a Bonnie Prince Charlie car commercial went
shooting back
And the cast members at Disneyland were all electric
with anger
I could just about hear my Walkman playing Mantovani
through the thunder
The birdcatcher of Hades with his book of gold and
straw
Eros lends Massacre assistance with the saw
First blood of little girls, a cupboard where you hide
Pause at Charlie Chaplin's fountain
Climb across a cardboard mountain
Dr Selbert Lanolin and his troope of chimpanzees
Who plan to take the world over with a television
series
Have found the gene responsible for Scientology
It was a stormy night for the tartan babes on a rocky
mountain track
When a Bonnie Prince Charlie car commercial went
shooting back
And the cast members at Disneyland were all electric
with anger
I could just about hear my Walkman playing Mantovani
Come grasshopper let's tell the tale again
Five southern men
Of Team Clermont, five southern gentlemen
Five southern men
Their mission's indie music and their weapon is the
phone
Battling indifference on the college radio shows
To Hefner and The Creatures and a host of other schmoes
Five southern men
Five ponchos, five sombreros, and a phone
Five southern men
The shadows of five horsemen on the desert horizon
Five southern men
DJs who play Metallica tremble as they come
Saddlebags packed up with something deadlier than guns
The new Kid Silver, Daniel Johnston and DJ Krush albums
Five southern men
Team Clermont men
Lucas, like Clint Eastwood in a tux
Five southern men
Brings lore straight from the back woods about what
fish are best to f(richochet)k
Five southern men
Jumps off his trusty steed and shoots the technicolor
breeze
Right beside a cactus there on his hands and knees
One too many Pabst Blue Ribbons on top of those green
beans
Five southern men
Nelson is an outlaw tall and thin
Five southern men
He screeches like a parrot and you'll swear a bird flew
Five southern men
Brian Bowen, tall and free amongst the Georgia
tumbleweed
With his plastic black rimmed glasses and his jacket
made of tweed
Thank goodness that's the style of a dying breed
Five southern men
Team Clermont men
Hoo!
Grandpaw Jimmy, he's the long arm of the law
Five southern men
He spins yarns about the good old days of rock and roll
Five southern men
Ol' Bill Benson has a coffee mug forever in his hand
His goatee beard is gone but that Pabst Blue Ribbon can
Still lingers on, still lingers on
Team Clermont men
Team Clermont men
(ANGEL) - Stefano Zarelli he's an angel in the making
And he's going straight to Heaven like me
(DEVIL) - Well that's not what I've heard and as a
Devil I can say the word's
That Stefano's as rotten as can be
(ANGEL) - Well he's a man of the world, Milano,
California
Switzerland, Vienna, Japan
(DEVIL) - Yeah he'll go anywhere the girls can be
persuaded
To have [*ðñ×ç¯÷×í&!] sex with a man
Everyone's just a mess of contradictions
And we all write fictions each day
Angels and devils are the images we use
But they don't mean shit, they just hide the truth away
Why not learn to love your contradictions?
Why not live your life to the full?
Love the snake beneath the flowers
'cause together they're the power
Of the contradictory beauty of you!
(ANGEL) - Well he loves Woody Allen and he loves a
bossa nova
And he cooks a pretty good pasta sauce
(DEVIL) - Woody Allen, exactly, and the sauce is pretty
spicy
Stefano Zarelli's soul is lost
(ANGEL) - He loves warm places like tropical hothouses
There's an orchestra that plays in his head
(DEVIL) - Yeah he loves warm places, like saunas and
Hades
And between the legs of every redhead
Stefano Zarelli's just a mass of contradictions
Like Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde
Angels and devils are the images we use
But they don't mean shit, they just rule and divide
Why not learn to love your contradictions?
Why not live your life to the full?
Love the snake beneath the flowers
'cause together they're the power
Of the contradictory beauty of you!
Your whole life is a mass of contradictions
And you mix up fiction with truth
Love the flowers and the force
'cause together they're the source
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shit!
I liked him from the moment we didn't quite meet
Ignoring him by accident on Threadneedle Street
He was buying you a flower, he was speaking on the
phone
He couldn't wait to get home
His eyes remained blind to the undescribed friend
At your house he remained violently calm
At my house, where you never came, you spoke about him
all the time
You were a very faithful woman
Speak up, answer me
What do you say?
I know he doesn't please you in a sexual way
I know he's cold-blooded, I know he's far away
But never reveal the shoesize of the angel
I said to my friend with indescribable lack of charm
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shit!
In the corner of the mirror he glimpsed the angel
Michael's shoes
I was crouching wearing them, sitting on a chair, right
therein full view
Obvious to both of you, terrifying, ridiculous
Amidst no suspicious hairs
The sofa hid behind me while he failed to disappear
So I caught a bus in daylight, and your conscience was
clear
You couldn't get enough of his disappearing love
And so you never telephoned me
Speak up, answer me
What do you say?
I know he likes undressing you in white, cream and grey
I know he's got no money, I know he makes you cry
But never reveal the shoesize of the angel
I said to my friend with indescribable lack of charm
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shoesize of the angel
Shit!
The things you'd never spoken of seemed to turn him off
I worked out what you saw in him: irreversible love
In full view of their boyfriends, I attracted no new
partners
And you saw nothing great in me
Speak up, answer me
What do you say?
I know he likes undressing you in white, cream and grey
I know he's got no money, I know he leaves you dry
But never reveal the shoesize of the angel
I said to my friend with indescribable lack of charm
With indifference I fail to meet you
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
You will not be learning my name
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
With indifference I fail to meet you
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
You will not be learning my name
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
With indifference I fail to meet you
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
You will not be learning my name
Shoesize of the angel
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
Shoesize of the angel
With indifference I fail to meet you
Shoesize of the angel
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
Shoesize of the angel
You will not be learning my name
Shoesize of the angel
(Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
Vaseline tub)
Shoesize of the angel
Shit!
Ha ha Beelzebub, stick him in the bottom with a
I was born with the charm of innocence
On my back like a cross
Thorns upon my forehead
Round my neck I wore it
Sometimes a rabbit's claw
Sometimes an albatross
It began at a school that turned boys into gentlemen
Then turned them on to debauchery
I was forced to my knees in front of these gentlemen
If I refused they would torture me
On Sundays I'd stalk the Botanical Garden
And under my uniform something would harden
Whenever I passed a girl of my own age
Or did it begin with au pair girls from Germany
Paid by the hour to look after us?
Did it begin with that first opportunity
To corner a stranger with nakedness?
Maybe the clinical way they undressed me
Stayed with me and deeply distressed me
I think, at heart, I'm something of a prude
I was born with the charm of innocence
On my back like a cross
Thorns upon my forehead
Round my neck I wore it
Sometimes a rabbit's claw
Sometimes an albatross
Then at 18 I decided I wanted
To be a commercial photographer
I rented a studio down by the docks
Which I shared with a friendly pornographer
I photographed models in fluorescent light
Whose veins were so blue and whose breasts were so
white
I assumed, like the moon, women were blue cheese
When I left home I already had five years
Of self abuse under my belt
I found certain women who'd let me try anything
Just to find out how it felt
In some garish hotel room with vile decoration
The wallpaper witnessed my first pollination
The paisley patterns witnessed an abortion
I was born with the charm of innocence
On my back like a cross
Thorns upon my forehead
Round my neck I wore it
Sometimes a rabbit's claw
Sometimes an albatross
In the army they taught me to share the abuse
That I'd kept up 'til then to myself
There's nothing like killing
For coaxing a shy boy of twenty-one out of his shell
In the dark continent with a peace-keeping force
I fell in with a bunch of Algerian whores
And promised them I'd try and keep in touch
We met up again in the 18th arrondisement
I remember them well
Their lank stringy hair and their big bulbous noses
Their unmistakable smell
I'd approach all the ugliest, seediest jerks
And ask them to keep a young model in work
Some men, thank Christ, don't discriminate at all
I was born with the charm of innocence
On my back like a cross
Thorns upon my forehead
Round my neck I wore it
Sometimes a rabbit's claw
Sometimes an albatross
I will pass my old age by a pale two-bar fire
Patiently waiting to die
Twitching the lace as the schoolgirls go past
Tracing a page of Bataille
And if you catch sight of my secondhand coat
Leaving behind it a faint whiff of goat
Remember both of us are naked underneath
I thought it would end with the first obscene phone
call
The second professional kill
But somehow detached from my actual behaviour
This innocence burdens me still
Up in the attic I pick up the brush
Paint in the crow's feet, paint out the blush
The face this portrait is of is still capable of
The face this portrait is supposed to be of is still
capable of
The face this portrait is of is still capable of (Paint
out the blush of shame)
The face this portrait is supposed to be of is still
capable of (Paint out the blush of shame)
The face this portrait is of is still capable of (Paint
out the blush of shame)
The face this portrait is supposed to be of is still
capable of (Paint out the blush of shame)
The face this portrait is of is still capable of (Paint
out the blush of shame)
The face this portrait is supposed to be of is still
capable of (Paint out the blush of shame)
(Paint out the blush of shame)
(Paint out the blush of shame)
I am Natsuko Tayama
The shy soul sister
I got a whole list of
Things on my chest
I want to express
But I'm too shy
To talk to a guy
So I don't even try
'cause I'm shy
Superfly!
Well my face goes flush
I flash a goofy grin
I stammer and I stutter
Don't know where to begin
And I don't change much after sake or gin
(She don't change much after sake or gin)
When I'm on the mic
You can stop right there
I've never been anywhere near
I wouldn't dare
'cause I'm shy
Well you can stop right there!
Superfly!
You know I skipped off school
Too shy for knowledge
I studied silent film when I went to college
Like Andy Warhol and Jonas Mekas
We'd like to be transparent
You can look but don't touch
Or we'll kick your ass!
'cause we're the shy class
Superfly!
I'm Natsuko Tayama
I find there's glamour
In being a wallflower
With a stammer
I love what I am
And you won't change me
So take me how I am
Baby!
'cause I'm super-shy
Superfly!
Well people make quiver
And people make me shiver
Loud people make me want to jump in a river
'cause I'm shy
Here come the tongue-twister
Well I'm shy, mister!
Ha! Superfly!
Well you know
people make quiver
And people make me shiver
Loud people make me want to jump in a river
I can't pluck up the courage to flirt
I'm the world champion heavyweight introvert
I'm shy
Superfly!
'cause I'm Natsuko Tayama
I find there's glamour
In being a wallflower
With a stammer
I love what I am
I'm the best
Funk the rest!
'cause I'm shy
I am cursed with a strange delusion:
I imagine myself to be
The only creature in the world that desires
And reproduces sexually
And everybody else is an amoeba
A tapeworm, a eunuch or virus
(Nicholas, don't be so ridiculous, Nicholas)
So I sit on the tube trying desperately to conceal
This embarrassing anomaly
This sin particular to me
For I, uniquely, must carry the rose
I, uniquely, have a cock beneath my clothes
And dream uniquely lewd dreams in front of multiplex
screens
It's as though I (and I alone)
Should be punished for the Universal Sin
Which reminds me of someone
But I am not like Him
I am the only animal in the world that desires
Wandering lost amidst cathedral spires
Sacrificed on behalf of the general
Possessor of an unruly genital
Amongst the dead I beat my breast
Proclaim my sinful proclivity
For simply living outside captivity
Sexually, as if I were unique, and the world uniquely
unforgiving
Somebody please understand me!
Tell me you feel the same way!
(Nicholas, don't be so ridiculous, Nicholas)
So I sit on the bus trying furiously to conceal
This inexplicable lust, this outlandishly physical zeal
That, if I were to reveal, would seem simply surreal
In your eyes when you realise
I think differently from you
Amidst the phallic towers
Amidst the birds, the bees and flowers
The people too
It's as though I (and I alone)
Should be punished for the Universal Sin
Which reminds me of someone
But I am not like Him
I'm the only animal in the world that desires
Being ushered towards my funeral pyre
The example, the victim, the criminal
Possessor of an unruly genital
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
Say I'm not to blame
Won't someone understand me
Help me bear the strain
Say they feel the same way
This is a public service announcement
Ladies and gentlemen, we are now entering
The age of information
It's perfectly safe
If we all take a few basic precautions
May I make some observations?
Axiom 1 for the world we've begun:
Your reputation used to depend on
What you concealed
Now it depends on what you reveal
The age of secretive mandarins who creep on heels of
tact is dead:
We are all players now in the great game of fact
instead
So since you can't keep your cards to your chest
I'd suggest you think a few moves ahead
As one does when playing a game of chess
Axiom 2 to make the world new:
Paranoia's simply a word for seeing things as they are
Act as you wish to be seen to act
Or leave for some other star
Somebody is prying through your files, probably
Somebody's hand is in your tin of Netscape magic
cookies
But relax: if you're an interesting person
Morally good in your acts
You have nothing to fear from facts
Axiom 3 for transparency:
In the age of information the only way to hide facts
Is with interpretations, there is no way to stop the
free exchange
Of idle speculations
In the days before communication privacy meant staying
at home
Sitting in the dark with the curtains shut unsure
whether to answer the phone
But these are different times, now the bottom line
Is that everyone should prepare to be known
Most of your friends will still like you fine
X said to Y what A said to B
B wrote an E-mail and sent it to me
I showed C and C wrote to A:
Flaming world war three
Cut, paste, forward, copy
CC, go with the flow
Our ambition should be to love what we finally know
Or, if it proves unloveable, simply to go
Axiom 4 for this world I adore:
Our loyalties should shift in view
According to what we know
And who we are speaking to
Once I was loyal to you, and prepared to be against
information
Now I am loyal to information, maybe I'm disloyal to
My loyalty becomes more complex and cubist with every
new fact I learn
It depends who I'm speaking to
And who they speak to in turn
Axiom 5 for information workers who wish to stay alive:
Supply, never withhold, the information requested
With total disregard for interests
Personal and vested
Chinese whispers was an analogue game
Where the signal degraded between brain and brain
Digital whispers is the same in reverse
The word we spread gets better, not worse
Better, not worse
X said to Y what A said to B
B wrote an E-mail and sent it to me
I showed C and C wrote to A:
Flaming world war three
Cut, paste, forward, copy
CC, go with the flow
Our ambition should be to love what we finally know
Me and my lawyer sat down and worked out
The full cost of the wrongs I have done you
And I'm sending the money to you
The cheque's in the post
For giving you hell
When I should have been treating you well
Reparation: five hundred five pound notes in a roll
For remarks about your weight
For complaining when you were late
Compensation: two thousand pounds, the going rate
For the times we were out
And my eye kept roving about
Settling on younger women: Fifteen hundred, say it's
forgiven
Running total: six thousand three hundred and fifty
pounds
With tax added on
And that's just the end of verse one
For attacking your superstition
Your pantheistic new age religion
Let's say the sum of one thousand seven hundred and
ninety seven
When I said your new dress wasn't splendid
When I told you the way the film ended
I guess I was wrong, accept this token: seven thousand
pounds
And for passing the pictures I'd taken
Of your body totally naked
Around all our friends, let's call it a round nine
thousand pounds
Running total: twenty four thousand one hundred and
forty seven pounds
On its way to you
And this is just the end of verse two
Me and my lawyer sat down and worked out
The real cost of the wrongs I have done you
And I'm sending the money to you
The cheque's in the post
And for my next indiscretion
When we had sex on the floor of the kitchen
I sang it in a song: accept ten thousand - make that
eleven thousand - pounds
And for failing to give enough time
To the baby that could have been mine
It's not that I don't care, my love, it's just so hard
to find a figure
Worst of all I stopped loving your body
Making you feel so low
Though my lawyer says no blame can be apportioned
For circumstances beyond my control
So now I'm all paid up
And absolved from this guilt
I'm going to get another girl in
Under my quilt
And run up
Another massive debt
Hail Mary
Pray for me now
Now and at the hour of my death
(Ba-ba-da ba-ba-da ba-ba-da)
I follow a totally uncharismatic guru
(Electric automatic guru)
He told me Stephanie be wonderful
Be who you want to be
And do the things you want to do
(Electric guru)
I gave all my money
To my uncharismatic guru
(Automatic uncharismatic guru)
But Mummy don't worry
I know what he's trying to do
(Bugaboo, bugaboo guru)
Oh he doesn't fool me, with one look
I can see right through
(My automatic uncharismatic guru)
But I would still buy
If he tried to sell me the moon
(The fool - sell you the moon!)
I have fallen in love
With my uncharismatic guru
(I love you, I love you guru)
Because that was exactly the thing
That he seemed to expect me to do
(My automatic uncharismatic guru)
(The fool)
He thinks he's a charlatan
Thinks I'm a naive fool
(My laughable, loveable guru)
In fact it's the other way round
Who fooled who?
(More fool you, guru!)
He told me Stephanie Pappas
To thine own self be true
(Do as I say, not as I do)
All that seems to be you's really me
And all that seems to be me is really me too
So I went to bed
With my uncharismatic guru
It seemed to be simply the right thing to do
When I'd given him my money, my soul and my body
I did it to make him feel better
And I'd just like to say
I only wish my guru could have been a better lay
We are the pirates
We sail in silence
On frigates, through darkness
Some fear us, our violence
Others admire us
Come to our islands
The sea is still calm
Bring all your diamonds
Our caves are warm
These waves herald a storm
We'll do you no harm
You have no choice
Lucky our hearts are warm
I've spent my life with some regrets
Between naked girls and gadgets
Trying to make the best of things
A clean breast of things
I clear my desk of papers but avoid
The little nest of naked Polaroids
I'm married now but can't deny
I was a single man when I
Collected slides of girls
And hid them in this carousel
To shine for selfish pleasure on my wall
My slide projector lie detector
Shines the things I don't remember
Seven metres tall
On my living room wall
My yesterdays you thought were dead
Are back to life forever
My word processor's got a text corrector
That's got a thing built in
That stops me when I try to enter lies
That prints the truth and cuts me down to size
My yesterdays you thought were gone
Spring back to life when you stumble on
A photograph I made
A duplicate tape on video 8
Of long-lost days I long ago erased
My slide projector lie detector
Shines the things I don't remember
Seven metres tall
Across our living room wall
My video cassette recorder plays cassettes in rigid
order
Scans for naked skin
Locate the index, hit slow motion, switch to playback
No fast-forwarding
My slide projector lie detector shines the things I
don't remember
Seven metres tall
Madness!
Well they're spying on me from the tape recorders
All the people say I'm out of order
I've been sent to Earth from outer space
As a warning to the human race
Well the dogs are howling at the moon
And an orchestra is out of tune
I've got a blue guitar
And I'm driving in my car to Abyssinia
Cos life over there is better by far
From Philadelphia to Jamaica
I'm sick to the death of the way things are
I'm over the abyss, can't take much more of this
Don't want to kill myself you see there's too much risk
The pills don't work, the gun might miss
They say schizophrenia's a fine madness
And I'm sad to say I'm on my way
I won't be back for many a day
Well the bank is stealing all my cash
I know that flight 13 is going to crash
I know that people don't like me
I know that's because I call thin thin, I call fat fat
Well I know the messiah's coming down
I had to leave my little girl in Kingston town
So tell me how far to Abyssinia
The second on the left after Jamaica
I'm driving in my car, running way far
From things as they are... schizophrenia!
There are forces out to destroy me
And I know you think I'm paranoid
Because I say there's a big conspiracy
It's a self-fulfilling prophecy
I've got a blue guitar
Wishing 'pon a star
Wishing 'pon a star
Sitting in a bar with a broken heart
What do you call it when your life falls apart?
Schizophrenia, schizophrenia
Carry me away to Abyssinia
We'll play a little song of the way things are
For things are changed upon a blue guitar
Things are changed upon a synthesiser
All the ladies in the house go 'Lah dee dah'
Listen to the man with the blue guitar
Shake up your bosom take it out of your bra
Fruits in the pockets of a cornucopia
Schizophrenia, schizophrenia
I've got a broken heart and my head's in a mess
And the train is at the station and the steam begin to
hiss
Take me anywhere away from all this!
Toss the caber, do the highland fling
Your daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring
He's got a battering ram, a battering ram
And he's got a little problem with who I am
From Jamaica to Philadelphia
Lee Scratch Perry to Frank Sinatra
"I think I'd rather sleep with her with no clothes on
than you in your best suit"
I said to my dummy at the Winter Gardens, Rothesay,
Isle of Bute
While the manager, praying for rain, watched the £50
grey clouds
Rolling in
Knowing if it rained we'd get the crowds
Knowing if it rained we'd get the crowds
Born in Greenock, 'the Tall Drole' was known to all
Worked in the mines and the mills but ended up in music
hall
Maidie played the accordion, she was 'the Small Doll'
We could bring the hoose doon, nae bother at a'!
It all seems like yesterday, though you weren't alive
The Panopticon, the Trongate, Glasgow 1935
In the name of the wee man, here comes Funny Clive
God, it made you glad to be alive
It's the Laird of Inversnecky here, aye you ken me weil
With ma cast of characters frae places that are nearly
real
Cold today! Aye! That's why we're by the seaside
Everybody come
To the Aberdeen Beach Pavilion
Every single night is fun!
I began as the panto tea boy, became the canny Scot
Like a chimney sweep on a ladder to very top
Synonymous for many with my famous character
The Reverend I.M. Jolly, the morose minister
The character comedians that you may see today
Where'd they get their talent for remarkable mimicry?
It's plain to see, it came from me, I saw them
scribbling away
They all laughed like crazy at my "hoity-toity ladies"
"The flag at the castle is half mast high
Let's all go down to Mackie's for a wee cup of tea"
It's the Laird of Inversnecky here, back to make you
greet
The Portobello pierrots, they cannae compete
At the Aberdeen Beach Pavilion, sixteen bloody years
we've run
And every single night of it's been fun!
In a time of plague
We were young and gay
And while money reigned
Minorities were wiped out every day
But we had tailors
We were getting famous
With the patronage of William Burroughs
And also Kathy Acker
Our pens would save the day
Singing 'tirra lirra tirra lirra tirra lirra gabba
gabba hey'
And our heroes were (and our heroes were)
Nightclub entrepreneurs (nightclub entrepreneurs)
Our novellas were
Metaphors and deconstructions
Architects
Who blow up their own buildings
While Reagan and Thatcher reigned we got famous
Not all of us survived
As happens in time of plague
Singing 'tirra lirra tirra lirra tirra lirra gabba
gabba hey'
In a gilded time (in a gilded time)
When death was king (death was king)
A group of authors
Began to write a new Decameron
Whose elegance
Bordered on the Florentine
And when the 90s came
We were immune to plague
To every known strain
Leopards prowl the studios of the Duc de Berry's great
chateau
Where Cocteau's beast rehearses Beauty's rape
Lewis Carroll marks his diary with a small white stone
As Kuniyoshi Kaneko prepares to paint
Listen to the shells my darling, what you hear is not
the sea
But whispering, malicious human hearts
Adults who don't wish to know the Duc de Berry's great
chateau
And hate the world of childhood and of art
We who paint or photograph to stop your dying in its
path
And fix you in the permanence of spring
Can't stop the prattlers prattling
The rattlesnakes who, rattling, see ugliness in every
living thing
See ugliness in every living thing
The calculated insolence of little girls in sailor
suits
Whose faces seem to say more than they know
Appetites and ornaments for the libertine in all of us
From the cabinet of Kuniyoshi Kaneko
Follow to the studio where Alice Liddell plays the
roles
Of tousle-headed naked gypsy girls
The Reverend Charles L. Dodgson from the darkness of
his camera
Preserves her for himself and for the world
Children torn by cruel desires, the handiwork of
murderers
Who hack their little bodies to the bone
Somehow live to tell the tale, astonishingly fit and
well
They couple in the fabulous chateau
We who paint or photograph to stop your dying in its
path
And fix you in the permanence of spring
Can't stop the prattlers prattling
The rattlesnakes who, rattling, see ugliness in every
living thing
In every lovely living thing
A looking glass is not a world
A painted girl is not a girl
In games there can be no forbidden things
In life remain considerate, in art the Devil's advocate
Why deny that Pegasus has wings
In life remain considerate, in art the Devil incarnate
Why deny the siren when it sings?
In games there must be no forbidden things
So watch the wall my darling while the gentlemen go by
And mark your diary with a small white stone
Little hearts of marzipan and lacquer work from old
Japan
"Would the last communist out
Switch off the lights?"
They shout as they go
Into the night
They think that it's over
Maybe it is
But I'm staying here
Alone with this promise
In my mind
It still exists
I'm the last communist
Alone in the Soviet Union
(In the Soviet Union)
There's a light switch on the wall
(In the Soviet Union)
And a canteen down the hall
(In the Soviet Union)
I make faces with a torch
(In the Soviet Union)
In the mirror on the back of the bathroom door
(In the Soviet Union)
Shining up the lino on the corridor floor
(In the Soviet Union)
Eating dead pigeons cold and raw
(In the Soviet Union)
Drinking vodka through a straw
(In the Soviet Union)
Weeping for the visions Lenin saw
I like it here
I like it fine
The radiator's warm
The bus is on time
And healthcare is free
A job is for life
The caretaker is me
I'm switching on the lights
In my mind
It will exist
I'm the first communist
Alive in the Soviet Union
(In the world of freedom)
You lived a long time ago
(In the world of freedom)
You filled your shoes with six black toes
(In the world of freedom)
You rode to work on a big skateboard
(In the world of freedom)
And swiped your celery barcode
(In the world of freedom)
Exploding filippino washing machines
(In the world of freedom)
Your sinister servants watch TV
(In the world of freedom)
You shake our palm trees violently
(In the world of freedom)
Until the coconuts fill your plastic tray
(In the world of freedom)
You're writing up the budget and you're purchasing
supplies
(In the world of freedom)
It's always someone else's turn to die
(In the world of freedom)
You're launching major missile strikes (on the Soviet
Union)
(In the world of freedom)
To prove you'll never drink Zamzam cola
(In the world of freedom)
The car protecting your child is killing mine
(In the world of freedom)
You're blinded by the headlights on the autobahn
(In the world of freedom)
A chimp made off with your sports jacket, boy
(In the world of freedom)
Your king is a monkey and a mongoloid
Today I'm alone
The war hasn't even begun
But your king hasn't won
One day you'll come
It's so clear
Our future's here
I am just the caretaker
All is forgiven!
"Would the last communist out
Switch off the lights?"
They shout as they go
Into the night
They think that it's over
Maybe it is
But I'm staying here
Alone with this promise
In my mind
It still exists
I'm the last communist
Alone in the Soviet Union
(In the Soviet Union)
There's a light switch on the wall
(In the Soviet Union)
And a canteen down the hall
(In the Soviet Union)
I make faces with a torch
(In the Soviet Union)
In the mirror on the back of the bathroom door
(In the Soviet Union)
Shining up the lino on the corridor floor
(In the Soviet Union)
Eating dead pigeons cold and raw
(In the Soviet Union)
Drinking vodka through a straw
(In the Soviet Union)
Weeping for the visions Lenin saw
I like it here
I like it fine
The radiator's warm
The bus is on time
And healthcare is free
A job is for life
The caretaker is me
I'm switching on the lights
In my mind
It will exist
I'm the first communist
Alive in the Soviet Union
(In the world of freedom)
You lived a long time ago
(In the world of freedom)
You filled your shoes with six black toes
(In the world of freedom)
You rode to work on a big skateboard
(In the world of freedom)
And swiped your celery barcode
(In the world of freedom)
Exploding filippino washing machines
(In the world of freedom)
Your sinister servants watch TV
(In the world of freedom)
You shake our palm trees violently
(In the world of freedom)
Until the coconuts fill your plastic tray
(In the world of freedom)
You're writing up the budget and you're purchasing
supplies
(In the world of freedom)
It's always someone else's turn to die
(In the world of freedom)
You're launching major missile strikes (on the Soviet
Union)
(In the world of freedom)
To prove you'll never drink Zamzam cola
(In the world of freedom)
The car protecting your child is killing mine
(In the world of freedom)
You're blinded by the headlights on the autobahn
(In the world of freedom)
A chimp made off with your sports jacket, boy
(In the world of freedom)
Your king is a monkey and a mongoloid
Today I'm alone
The war hasn't even begun
But your king hasn't won
One day you'll come
It's so clear
Our future's here
I am just the caretaker
All is forgiven!
Time after time the hands on my watch spin around
And I know that I've been around
But I'm coming home now baby
Time after time when I know you've been waiting up for me
Just pacing and shaking up for me
Your anger in proportion to your love
Sparrows fly up easy, startling
Lovers in the peaceful night
I love the angry way you say to me
'Where have you been all night?'
Standing in your red pyjamas
Time after time when we've come through the dark of the
night
And by sunrise everything's right
I'm coming home now baby
Time after time when I know you've got stressed up about
I secretly hope you'll get dressed up and shout me
The colour and dimension of your love
Sparrows fly up easy, startling
Lovers in the peaceful night
I love the angry way you say to me
'Where have you been all night?'
The pervert and his angels hide amongst the stars and
watch
And as we blow ourselves to bits the angels pump their
cocks
Their semen flows across the sky and forms new milky
wheys
And somewhere in some galaxy in less than seven days
They make a planet more curvaceous and much sexier than
ours
Full of bigger sinners
When I was a little whippersnapper of a boy just 19
years of age
And I happened to stain the sheets on the bed or I
happened to misbehave
The stains were lovingly washed away in a tub of soapy
water
By the ladies I protected from a world of horrible
slaughter
But whenever a piece of ultraviolent thuggery is done
And the world looks on with heart in mouth, speechless
and stunned
Remember that every offender is his own mother's son
Here is the song that I have always sung:
"Give me mass in the morning, the bookie's at noon
The brothel all night long
But I'll always be true to the ladies, the ladies
understand
I'm their favourite
They love me, I treat them like ..... "
Then when at last I came of age and had to make my way
I set up shop with a dozen girls, so popular was I
I marched them up to the top of the town and there I
had them loiter
There are many worse ways to earn your pay in a world
of horrible slaughter
But whenever a piece of ultraviolent thuggery is done
And the world looks on with heart in mouth, speechless
and stunned
Remember that every offender is his own mother's son
Here is the song that I have always sung:
"Give me mass in the morning, the bookie's at noon
The brothel all night long
But I'll always be true to the ladies, the ladies
understand
I'm their favourite
They love me, I treat them like sh- ..... "
One of my girls did a runner one day with a lad from
the orchestra
Who scraped a living on a violin and stayed at home
with Ma
I ground his instrument into the ground and Tracy, when
I caught her
That time got off lightly tn this world of horrible
slaughter
Now I've got a little whippersnapper of my own just at
the difficult age
And if he happens to slash a girl to test his army
penknife blade
The blood is lovingly washed away in a tub of soapy
water
By the girls he may protect one day from a world of
horrible slaughter
Give me mass in the morning, the bookie's at noon
The brothel all night long
But I'll always be true to the ladies, the ladies
understand
I'm their favourite
Mad music, sad music
Totally bad and crazy music
Brave music, strange music
Mathematical lava music
Music from the roots
Not from corporate suits
Stand out from the crowd
Play quiet music very, very loud
Difficult music, liveable music
Lickable, hummable, kickable music
Love music, fear music
We got some here music!
Retro-futuristic dandy music
Exploding plastic candy music
So amusing
Brother music
Sister music
Lover music
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Kinky music
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Cutey pinky Japanese music
othermusic dot com
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I love women but I'm thinking of giving in
I love women but what's the point of arguing
With the men from boarding schools and building sites
Who've told me I'm a homosexual all my life
One stop past Embankment and the coughs begin
Hell hath no fury like an insecure Englishman
You don't need psychoanalysts to translate this
'There is an open homosexual in our midst'
'The Homosexual' they call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre they projected I will now pretend to be
Since their neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since their tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse them
I'll make love with their women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
Their husbands will never hear
I love women but I take them by surprise
Pretending absolute indifference to their breasts and
thighs
Like their hairdressers and dressmakers I hear
confessionals
Reserved for homosexual professionals
As I put their feet in stirrups with my limp wrist
(A trick I learned from a homosexual gynaecologist)
I recall the words my first girlfriend ended our first
date with
"I feel privileged you chose me to go straight with"
'The Homosexual' they call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre they projected I will now pretend to be
Since their neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since their tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse them
I'll make love with their women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
Their husbands will never hear
You who called me shirt-lifter in Chemistry class
You who sniggered "look out for your arse"
Now your women wash your shirts, now your kids are
born, baby, look out for your horns
You who called me teapot, who plagued me with your bile
Guess who I've got coming to the boil
Why not grab the nettle I'll settle for being the
kettle if you're the pot
I take my tea like my revenge: sweet and hot
'The Homosexual' they call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre they projected I will now pretend to be
Since their neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since their tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse them
I'll make love with their women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
Their husbands will never hear
'The Homosexual' you call me
It's all the same to me
That spectre you projected I will now pretend to be
Since your neurosis is what passes for normality
It's okay with me if I'm queer
Since your tone-deafness is called the love of music
I won't disabuse you
I'll make love with your women
I'll make them sing notes of pleasure
That you will never hear
Never in a million years
All I desire is a military man who knows that he is
born
A soldier, a sailor, a pretty marine blowing on the
horn
On a military base or a battleship deck
Let me come in his ass with my tongue down his neck
When I die mix my ash with the piss
At Camp Pendleton Del Mar Enlisted Club
Well Brent was my crush in high school, boys
And I followed him round the world
Well the army sent Brent off to Frankfurt, boys
But Brent he went off with a girl
I rented a room like a Fassbinder film
But I needed a job so they had me begin
At a sporting goods store on the military base
Blowing on the horn
And why should I lust after killing machines
A man of my delicate build?
Why request photos of naked marines
From the Athletic Model Guild?
Stripped to the skin, their muscles like rocks
With their hair high and tight, gripping their cocks
Put it down to the fact that opposites attract
And go blowing on the horn
On Okinawa straight Corporal Buchman bonded while
getting tattoos
In California a thousand marines were caught posing for
gay videos
Nobody's straight one hundred percent
Every soldier and sailor's potentially bent
I'll keep you hard 'til your girlfriend arrives
And keep blowing on your horn
He wrote 'Barrack Buddies and Soldier Lovers', 'The
Masculine Marine'
'Sailors and Sexual Identity' and did lots of research
in between
But a writer should never stop living to write
Steven Zeeland, our hero, still follows the fleet
Painting the town, writing it down
And a' blowing on the horn
Agh!
A man in the thrall of a sexual spell is the luckiest
man alive
The dreams he has lived and the sperm he has spilled
Give meaning to his life
When you look back, after you're dead
You'll regret what you didn't do, not what you did
When I die mix my ash with the piss
The pupil is twelve, attractive, withdrawn
In a midnight blue school uniform
Lips just a little too full for her face
Distant eyes full of space
In her posture no trace of coquette
No defiance
She fingers the frets looking forlorn
Crossing her legs where her tights have been torn
Starts as her mother comes into the room
And the afternoon grows still
And her mother feels chill
Shivers and buttons her coat
I gently correct the curve of her back
And open her book in the now-empty flat
At the classical piece I've had her prepare
And her arms are bare as she plays
And I draw back behind her ear
A few strands of hair gone astray
She shows me her bracelet, the lesson is done
I turn it around between finger and thumb
We sit face to face and it seems to me that
Her face is the face of a cat
And touching the place where her breasts will be
I press my hand flat
She comes into my lap, I turn her around
Her hands clasp my neck and her feet skim the ground
Her skirt travels up under my palm
But the pupil sits looking so calm
As if listening to the distant sound
Of a burglar alarm
What happened next it's hard to recall
The guitar lesson left no traces at all
Now, from afar, it seems to resemble
A strange composition in oil
The day the circus came to town
We lined the streets from Leith
To beyond belief
The day the circus came to town
The wind was light to moderate
And there was fog on higher ground
And everybody laughed or did not laugh
When a couple of mongrels coupled on the path
The day the circus came to town
The day the circus came to town
The department stores were crammed
Like hell with the Damned
The day the circus came to town
There were ten years in a decade
A hundred pennies in a pound
And everybody clapped or did not clap
When an orchestra swept past in drag
The day the circus came to town
Couldn't tell the two apart
But there's only room for one in my heart
Because being of one mind is a capital crime
I will pack and unpack at the drop of a hat
And I will join or leave that circus
At any given point, at any given point, at any given
point in time
The day the circus came to town
It was overtime for the boys in blue
But they were dancing too
The circus came to town
The fork was on the left and the knife was on the right
And the diner sat down
And everybody cheered or did not cheer
When a boy took off his hat and his hair appeared
The day the circus came to town
The day the circus came to town
God was in his heaven like a goldfish in a bowl
To the visible dismay of air traffic control
The day the circus came to town
Last night's party met the day's first hearse
And, spilling vodka on the wake made a fatal mistake
With a match and flabbergasted watched them all
Fall flambeed six feet underground
And everybody booed or did not boo
When the ghost of Deacon Brodie sawed a corpse in two
The day the circus came to town
Still can't tell the two apart
But there's only room for one in my heart
Because being of one mind is a capital crime
I will pack and unpack at the drop of a hat
And join or leave that circus
At any given point in time
Because being of one mind is a capital crime
I will pack and unpack at the drop of a hat
And I will join or leave that circus
At any given point, at any given point, at any given
point in time
Because being of one mind is a cap-cap-capital crime
I will pack and unpack at the drop of a hat
And I will join or leave that circus
At any given point, any given point, at any given point
They have us taped
They have us pat
They are extraterrestrial, extraterritorial
Where did they come from? No-one can say
One possible explanation is that they
Are Space Jews
Jews from outer space
Sent to walk amongst us
To improve the human race
Space Jews
Jews from outer space
Jews from outer space
They gave us a messiah
They gave us a morality
They help us lead good lives from up above
They are Space Jews
They're giving us a message of love
For them we're clear
They see right through
All the stupid and murderous things we do ..... or
would like to
The Nobel prize never goes to the goys
Who split the atom?
Einstein, Oppenheimer and the Freuds
Every one of them
Space Jews
Jews from outer space
Sent to walk amongst us
To improve the human race
Space Jews
Jews from outer space
Jews from outer space
They're doctors and they're lawyers
They're astronaut philosophers
They're holding up a mirror from above
They are Space Jews
They're bringing us a message of love
We are from Earth
But they're from space
And that's where we'll all go one day
If we have enough faith
Together we'll colonise the stars
They can take us that far
Mr Spock on the Enterprise will be our guide
Vulcans too are .....
Space Jews
Jews from outer space
Sent to walk amongst us
To improve the human race
Space Jews
Jews from outer space
Jews from outer space
And I really admire them
I really want to be like them
And when you want to be one
That's all you need to feel like one
For in the words of one of them
Theodor Adorno:
"Soul is just the longing
Of those with no soul
For redemption"
So why don't you come and join them?
Space Jews
Song giving descriptions of an unnamed act of love
The court will call this song Exhibit A
Song including details of the persons taking part
And the actual words these persons say
Song in contravention of sections of the law
Members of the jury take your time
Remember even listening if only this far in
Already makes you guilty of a crime
This love in contravention
They see fit to ban
That woman feels for woman, man for man
This love outside the law is the strongest love of all
Pass it on (pass it on)
To sing this song is a crime of love
Sing this song (sing this song)
Song giving descriptions of an unnamed act of love
Outlawed by the government this year
A song giving descriptions of forbidden forms of love
Is passing at this moment through your ear
Song in contravention of sections of the law
That deal with making public private thoughts
With lyrics so explicit and descriptions so perverse
They constitute the crime that it reports
This love in contravention
They see fit to ban
That woman feels for woman, man for man
This love outside the law is the strongest love of all
Pass it on (pass it on)
To sing this song is a crime of love
Sing this song (sing this song)
In the perfumed garden the apprentice sits alone
Like a Persian miniature in stone
The jury and the witnesses are kneeling at the throne
Waiting for the judgement to come down
Song giving descriptions of an unnamed act of love
An act of love is taking place
Sung with your consent, the song has reached its very
The prosecution rests its case
For the sensation of orgasm
Civilisations must rise and fall
For the sensations of orgasm
We build the society of spectacle
Oh these are beautiful powers
And these are beautiful human rights
And we have beautiful lawyers
Freedom is keeping us up all night
For the sensation of orgasm
Cultures accumulate energy
And for the pleasure of citizens
Allow the transgressions of chemistry
Oh these are beautiful powers
And we are dutiful citizens
And we elect by desire
Yes we elect only pretty things
Famous performers who win applause
From the anonymous everywhere
Show us that life is just metaphors
Sex is the air and the atmosphere
Oh you're such beautiful movers
And your performance was fabulous
You think because you are lovers
You were the ones who invented this
Each day I build a great tower
Where they speak thousands of languages
Oh these are beautiful flowers
And these are fabulous sandwiches
All the sensations of orgasm
Here in the congress of intercourse
These are the rights of the citizen
You may shout 'til your voice is hoarse
Oh these are beautiful colours
And this is lovely arithmetic
This system's been designed for us
It's such a pity it makes us sick
All the sensations of orgasm
Empower me afresh with a rush release
All the sensations of orgasm
Patrolling the borders with love police
Oh these are beautiful powers
Buckminster Fuller, inventor of the geodesic dome
Once gave a lecture he entitled 'Everything I know'
Taking the title literally, he spoke four years or so
And I intend to do the same, so make yourself at home
(Pull up a chair, smoke a cigar or something)
Cynthia Plaster Caster once took my cast and showed me
In a penis exhibition in a gallery on Broadway
So many people saw my penis in its glass case
They recognise my penis now before my face
Subject for today: does knowledge elevate or demean us?
Everything you didn't want to know about my penis
A baker has a penis thing for flattening the dough
But stick it in the oven and it rises up, like so
The man who chops the melons up with a long and pointed
knife
Has a penis with a mottled skin, I know, I asked his
wife
(Very curious)
A priest beneath his cassock has a penis just the same
Some call the hypothalamus the penis of the brain
One man's sport is fly fishing, the other's pocket
billiards
Congratulations, Watson, on your almost-Freudian
brilliance
The comedian from hell always thinks he can entertain
With everything we didn't want to know about his penis
Like the heather of the Highlands, mine is tipped with
flecks of purple
With a head as wise as Solomon, although shaped like a
turtle
It wears a flesh-tone roll-neck and the neck goes up
and down
It comes out in the evenings and on Friday paints the
town
Obsessively, compulsively, it only wants one thing
To fill your chosen orifice with ropes of pearly string
Delivering its message to your womb or to your tongue
And then going slack and flaccid when its pressing work
is done
In witty conversation, by drip or intravenus
I drop everything you didn't want to know about my
penis
(Some sort of Tourette Syndrome)
It's a very fine philosopher, debating right and wrong
Shows promise as a songwriter (it writes most of my
songs)
Don't bury it in boxer shorts but wear it like a tie
Or avant garde jewellery hanging from your fly
(Very chic!)
Jean Luc Godard once declared, to gales of mystified
laughter
That some men wash their hands before they touch it,
others after
And if you slot it carefully where the sun will never
shine
You'll feel what's mine becoming yours, what's yours
becoming mine
Ladies and hermaphrodites, my tender-hearted readers
Everything you didn't want to know about my penis
There was a bohemian monk
Who went to bed in a bunk
He dreamt that Venus
Was stroking his penis
And woke up all covered in .....
Thought for the day: does abstinence dirty us or clean
Everything you didn't want to know about my penis
It's a tribute to the power of something otherwise
mundane
That waving it under a stranger's nose is said to scar
his brain
I'm doing my bit to see the power of taboo remains
intact:
I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat
(I keep a penis on my head but never lift my hat)
And if I've bored you stiff with this riff about my
penis
I wouldn't let a little thing like that come between us
And if you can think of another song even more
atrocious
I tried to keep my soul alive
Playing Mortal Kombat on the Megadrive
I patched my lust with Nicorette
Went surfing down the Internet
But still I need you here tonight
Let's make love by satellite
By high speed uplink, error free
Be my Virtual Valerie
You were always something physical
Something violent and visceral
I will specify you line by line
Make a virtual girl to your design
I miss you more than I can bear
But loneliness won't take me there
By high speed uplink, error free
Be my Virtual Valerie
Let me hold on to this memory
Because I need you here with me
Autumn is warm
These are my golden years
Roll on a casino of shadows at the Ocean del Sol
Fortune is long
But these are the older years
When the waterfall spider sparkles and turns like a
clock in the dark
Far from the spring
Sit in a barber's chair
Still bringing glamour to towns where the hammer must
fall
Feminine man
Tall in the evening air
With the Zulu who walks with you always by your side
And the pain goes
And explain those
Spiders are building their webs across skulls' eyes in
the dark
Far from springtime
In a barber's chair
Time to pull on the face that you keep in a jar by the
door
Galloping ghosts
Take me to Zanzibar
Forward and forward the chargers they're charging in
dreams at least
Rallying round
The faces of every old ghost
In a postage stamp world we slipper away with a cradle
of cats
In a postage stamp world
There is nothing yet left to believe in
For a fox-hunting man who has sold all his clothes to
the slave trade
You are lovely in face
Love me in body and everything
You've got laughter and brains and I love you so much
in your hat
And the pain goes
Further and further and deeper and deeper inside
And the time goes so slow in the winter time rolling in
straw and hay
For a fox-hunting man
Who can stand in the fire and just fade away
You are lovely of face, you are lovely of body and soul
Galloping ghosts
Take me to Zanzibar
Forward and forward the chargers they're charging in
dreams at least
Rallying round
The faces of every old ghost
In a postage stamp world we slipper away with a cradle
She's so fabulous
She's so ludicrous
She's so dangerous
Your fat friend
She's intelligent
An experiment
She's an elephant
Your fat friend
Will you run away with me?
Let's go walking on the sea
Just Jesus Christ and you and me and
Your fat friend
See her fumble, see her flirt
In her massive mini-skirt
She is quite the extravert
Here comes your fat girlfriend
She's so fabulous
She's so ludicrous
She's so dangerous
Your fat friend
I love Coco, you love Jim
Your fat friend, she loves him
But he can't love her, he's too thin
For your fat friend
One and one makes three not two
She will stick to you like glue
Don't fuck around with you-know-who
Here comes your fat girlfriend
She's intelligent
An experiment
She's an elephant
She was seeing two at exactly the same time
She never mentioned you when she was round at mine
But when you were round at hers you always made a scene
'Cause you only had ears for descriptions of the
stranger she was seeing
And what she saw in me was only what attracts
The many girls I see behind their lovers' backs
But what she saw in you, I could never work it out
There was just one thing she found it turned you, it
turned you on to talk about
The inexplicable charisma of the rival
You said "Describe for me the hairstyle of the devil
Is he passionate? (Don't answer!)
Is he detached? (Don't answer that!)
Does he please you in the sack? (Shut up, don't answer
back!)
Just tell him I'm dying to meet him"
She called me up, she said she'd had enough
Of all the paranoia you mixed up with your love
We spent the night together, she woke me up at dawn
And called an all-night taxi
And when you came I was gone (huh)
You found my comb behind her chest of drawers
She said she'd slept alone but the bed was full of
hairs
And when you matched them up, beyond a shadow of a
doubt
The hairs belonged the Beelzebub
And you began to puzzle out
The inexplicable charisma of the rival
You said "Describe for me the hairstyle of the devil
Does he make you laugh? (Don't answer!)
Does he earn a lot? (Don't answer that!)
Does he dress you up in black? (Shut up, don't answer
back!)
Just tell him I'm dying to meet him"
The inexplicable charisma of the rival
With the luck and the hairstyle of the devil
"Tell him I'm dying to meet him"
And so you gaze at the people all about
In every stranger's face you try to make me out
And when you meet me finally your horns will lock with
mine
For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time
For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time
For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time
For the beast rules with rivalry
As the clock rules with time
Pleased to meet you
The inexplicable charisma of the rival
Cowbell goddess in the groves of Synaesthesia
Barrel at the temple of a fine young man
Accidental lovers by the dead canalside
Genetic engineering a Liberace fan
In Yokohama Chinatown
Toxic like the Body Shop
Intelligent like Benetton
Dagger in the belly of an also-ran
Piercing in the Netherlands
The Devil's in his underpants
Watch the good consumers wash their hands
In Yokohama Chinatown
Sterilised pyjamas envelop them in cottonbuds
Make a world of cardboard, whizz and blow
Entirely engineered or just a mere co-incidence
Tell me once again where the lonely go
To Yokohama Chinatown
Cubist to the maximum
A savage young anaesthetist
The stench of fresh cordite
Selenium cell
Under the sign that says 'Kilroy was here'
It's show and tell
Semen as a substitute for hair gel
Sermonised to pauperhood rapacious in the aftermath
Corrected to a shadow of your former self
You watch the Velvet Underground perform 'The Gift'
Sunbathed to a cinder in the Persian Gulf
While the Dow Jones plummets we are necking in the lift
Repeat after me 'I love myself'
'I love myself'
The side-effects of Benzedrine
A dose of bitter medicine
Botticelli's Venus had long blonde hair
Surprise the former astronaut howling at the moon
On hands and knees in the peepshow booth
Catch the quiet receptionist naked in the antechamber
Leafing through a copy of The Plain Truth
Sing the phonebook loudly in a baritone voice
All the vegetarians consider me anti-choice
In Yokohama Chinatown
Little Orphan Annie has come to grief
In Yokohama Chinatown she takes a fellow's trousers
down
And gives the consolation of manual relief
Looser than a blues man contraceptive rhythm method
On his hands and knees
While the Dow Jones plummets
The stench of fresh cordite
And on the mountain tell me there's a lady
And in the lady tell me there's a baby
And in the baby tell me there's a blood cell
And in the blood cell tell me there's a T cell
And in the T cell tell me there's an empire
And in the empire tell me there's a vampire
And in the vampire tell me there's a baby
And in the baby tell me there's a lady
And in the empire tell me there's a mountain
And on the mountain tell me there's a fountain
And in the fountain tell me there's a vampire
And in the vampire tell me there's an empire
And in the empire tell me there's a baby
And in the baby tell me there's a lady
And in the lady tell me there's a baby
So you're sweeping
Out of my world
Widow Twanky
You were my girl
Now you're flouncing out of my life
Not a back look
Not a bad way
To say goodbye
When you prick me
Do I not bleed?
When you stick me
Do you succeed?
There were times
Pantomime dame
I could've taken you down
Times I slapped you down and fucked around
And called you stupid cow
I'm paying the price for it now
You're inside me
I'm inside you
You're inside me now
What can I do?
On a road made of stone
I am walking alone as you
In the blaze of the day
I'm a pantomime dame
You're inside me
Widow Twanky
Bob Dylan at the height of his fame
Got asked the same question again and again
In a forest of microphones
'Tell us, Bob, who really, who really is Mr Jones?'
Dylan replied: 'He's a pinboy, he also wears suspenders
It's not so hard to picture him
In a room with three walls and a midget, a naked man and
a geek
And I am the voice in his dream, speaking in his sleep'
Bob Dylan at the height of his fame
Got asked the same question again and again
In a forest of microphones
'Tell us, Bob, who really, who really is Mr Jones?'
Dylan, probably bored to death
Is also reported to have said:
'I saw him come into the room one night
He looked just like a camel
And proceeded to put his eyes into his pocket'
He's a real person, you know him
You don't have to be so imaginative
The answer is blindingly obvious:
Mr Jones is a man who doesn't know who Mr Jones is
Mr Jones is a man who doesn't know who Mr Jones is
Mr Jones is a man who doesn't know who Mr Jones is
Death will be unlike the night-times when we lie awake
thinking of death
Death will be unlike the Spanish maracas that rattle
inside your last breath
Death will be unlike the Mexican festivals, skeletons
wearing top hats
Death will be unlike the brownstone apartments that
dynamite or dereliction collapse
Death will be unlike the mandolin the hangman relaxes
by playing
Death will be unlike the Hound of the Baskervilles,
chilling the moors with its baying
Death will be unlike the British museum, its bodies
from peat bogs and bones
Death will be unlike the curse of the mummy that turns
the explorers to stone
Death will be unlike the great roller coaster, a plunge
from a boast to a scream
Death will be unlike mahogany coffins great pianists
play in their wildest strangest dreams
Death will be unlike a garden in autumn where poets can
sit and compose
Death will be unlike the granite memorials where
memories wither in rows
Death will be unlike the charge of the Light Brigade
Alfred Lord Tennyson rhymed
Death will be unlike the thin piece of paper that
Reagan and Gorbachov sign
Death will be unlike the hospital bedside with Novocain
needles and cards
Death will be unlike the great day of judgement when
God the headmaster presents the awards
Death will be unlike the marriage that bickers 'til
death us do part
Death will be unlike the dreams of the young man who
sang 'Love will tear us apart'
Death will be unlike TV documentaries showing us life
from outside
Death will be unlike the Buddhist nirvana the moth
seems to seek in the light
Death will be unlike the Cities of crystal they build
in a few grains of smack
Death will be unlike the long picture window the coffin
looks through to a widow in black
Death will be unlike a room full of spiders all
clinging together and crying
Death will be unlike the wedding guest's story, the
ship drifting lost and the dead sailors sighing
Death will be unlike the din in the steeple when
cholera poisons the village
Death will be unlike the illumination that Tolstoy
provided for poor Ivan Illych
Death will be unlike the wrinkling sea children glimpse
through the chinks in the boardwalk
Death will be unlike the magical land of 'The Lion, The
Witch and the Wardrobe'
Death will be unlike the treacherous virus that murders
the lovers with AIDS
Death will be unlike the phantoms of freedom that lead
the crowd over the barricades
Death will be unlike the night thoughts of 'Late Call'
when ministers stop being cosy
Death will be unlike 'The Pit and the Pendulum' co-
starring Bela Lugosi
Death will be unlike the bulge of the mouse inside the
boa constrictor
Death will be unlike that drunkard the phoenix, so
tight on the moonshine of golden elixirs
Death will be unlike that violent pornography, dear to
the Marquis de Sade
Death will be unlike the last stitch of clothing the
stripper discards as her nipples grow hard
Death will be unlike the bankrupt, handing over the
keys to his house
Death will be unlike the last day of summer, when
insects grow stupid and swallows fly south
Death will be unlike the skull of a merchant that
slants through the portrait by Holbein
Death will be unlike that strange proposition on
silence, the Tractatus of Wittgenstein
Death will be unlike your holiday snaps when the camera
lets in the light
Death will be unlike the honest-but-cold-blooded bank
clerk whose hobby is homocide
Death will be unlike the hands of the clock, coming
together at midnight
Death will be unlike the grim amputations of medical
students larking on rag night
Death will be unlike the hijacker's voice in the heads
of air traffic controllers
Death will be unlike the sea as it thunders on Liv
Ullman vanishing under the rollers
Death will be unlike the abbey the pilgrims all saw
when they prayed
Death will be unlike the unholy land at the end of the
Children's Crusade
Death will be unlike the hell in Huis Clos Mr Sartre
informs is just other people
Death will be unlike the travelling salesman who woke
up one morning transformed to a beetle
Death will be unlike 2001, the room at the end of the
ride
Death will be unlike the wrath that Charles Bronson let
loose on the Lower East Side
Death will be unlike the House of the Shades the dog
Cerberus guarded for Hades his master
And death will be unlike that lesson on Infallibility,
the Chernobyl disaster
And death will be unlike the empty career of the temp's
vacillations gone permanent
Death will be unlike the unlucky omens the clairvoyant
reads in the meaningless firmament
In the meaningless firmament
What will death (what will death)
Be like? (be like?)
What will death (what will death)
Be like? (be like?)
A little sweater, it's irridescent
It's got a geometric grid of little squares
My legs are bare
I will describe my underwear
It's warm against my hair
Soft against my skin
But you can't come in
Until the pink and yellow duck
That is printed on the front
Begins to smile
(What are you wearing?)
I've got a hat on
My shirt is satin
It's got a picture of a pony in a field
My hair is green today
I'm wearing see through Pierre Cardin
My scent is Paco by Rabanne
My hair is in a bun
My holster holds a gun
I filled it from a tap
My tummy sprang a drip
Your water pistol spilled
Be very careful, someone could get wet
Or someone could get killed
And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
I am wearing my wound with pride
I am wearing a smile and nothing at all
Up on the catwalk
Down in the strip club
Up on the catwalk
Down in the strip club
Catwalk (miaow!)
Strip club (grrr!)
(What are you wearing?)
I bought a pair of shoes by Jeremy Scott
I threw away the wrapper and I threw away the box
I went to an opening in my new clothes
Serge Comte Post-It Notes
I used to be a hologram, Anagram Sam
I used to be a big Suicide fan
I used to have a wiggle, now I walk like a man
And where it's at is where I am
(What are you wearing?)
I made this skirt from
A groovy curtain
Somebody ripped out of a pretty bungalow
And in my knickers
There is a flower my mother sewed
My shirt is shiny like a toad
I'm wearing Heidi braids
And aviator shades
I favour flatter shoes
My sailor suit is blue
And if it weren't for you
I'd take it off and leave it in a heap
Right here in the street
And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve
I am wearing my wound with pride
I am wearing a smile and nothing at all
Up on the catwalk
Down in the strip club
Up on the catwalk
Down in the strip club
Catwalk (miaow!)
Strip club (grrr!)
(What are you wearing?)
I used be a telegram, Hologram Sam
I used to be the walrus, now I'm John
I used to be a wham bam thank you ma'am
I used to be the kitten of all Japan
I come from everywhere I have ever been
Every boy is a king and every girl is a queen
Every girl is a king and every boy is a queen
And where it's at is where I am
Call me
Call me
Walter Carlos no longer exists / He's in Elysium
But let us imagine him in our space-time continuum.
Walter Carlos!
International transsexual composer of that glorious
epoch,
The high analogue synthesizer / Baroque!
He is now to be / Known as Wendy
Had a gender operation done
Just after making Switched on Bach, Volume 1
And when travelling through time is possible,
Wendy can enter a wormhole and go back to the future to
marry Walter
A few baroque summers earlier
A couple of models of Moog back in time
(Sung in a round: Fine fine fine / In the summertime /
Singing tra-la-la-la-la / And be fine in another time)
Unfortunately,
Einstein informs us
That when time travel is finally possible,
There will be no returning to periods previous to the
point at which time travel first became possible!
So like Walter Carlos until such time as it's feasible,
We'll have to restrict time travel to the realm of the
Trust me, I'm a doctor
A specialist in the ailments
Of the actress
Trust me, I'm a doctor
And you suffer from a rare form
Of attractiveness
Trust me if I seem to touch you
During the course of the cure in a sexual way
You see I long since lost all interest
In feelings of pleasure and pain
I don't ever expect to feel those feelings again
But you still may
Trust me, I'm a doctor
Disregard my appearance
On the blacklist
Trust me when your boyfriends
Jealously accuse me
Of malpractice
And trust me if I seem to touch you
During the course of the cure in a sexual way
You see I long since lost all interest
In feelings of pleasure and pain
I don't ever expect to feel those feelings again
But you still may
I am old, there is no hope left for me
But I know that there may be hope for you
I am old but I know that you could pull me through
If we operate, if we operate immediately
Touch me, I'm a doctor
My pulse is fast
My arms are very thin
Kiss me, hold me
Help me break this
Frozen sea within
And touch me if I seem to touch you
During the course of the cure in a sexual way
You see I long since lost all interest
In feelings of pleasure and pain
I don't ever expect to feel those feelings again
But I just still may
But I just still may
Yes I just still may
I longed for her when I was just 18
She was so pure to me I couldn't even picture her nude
And when she told me she didn't want to be my lover
I cried for hours up on Carlton Hill
While the sun set behind the unfinished monument
Tragedy and farce
Tragedy and farce
Tragedy and farce
Tragedy and farce
Tragedy and farce
Tragedy and farce
Ten years later at my sister's wedding
Drunk on champagne in an upstairs room
She let me take off her all her clothes
I'd had to wait so long for that first embrace
From that miserable day in '78
The first dry kiss ..... to this!
She invited me back to her empty place
Where the irony hit me like a slap in the face
Either I was too big or she was too small (tragedy and
farce)
But there was no way on earth we would ever ball
Not even Vaseline and a lot of mutual pain (tragedy and
farce)
Could put Humpty Dumpty together again
Like a square peg forced into a round hole (tragedy and
farce)
This into that just wouldn't go
Though of course ..... we could still kiss (tragedy and
farce)
History plays the first time as tragedy, the second as
When Disney came to Scotland
Shooting 'Pixel Claymores'
I wanted the role of the rotten
Villain Rob McMurdo
But Tinnitus auditioned first
Some weird DJ from Boston
He's from WZBC
And he doesn't look much like a Scotsman
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker
The weaver, the cheever, the bastard
Damn it and blast 'em, they said they had cast them
And swept me under the carpet
Tinnitus replied in a synthesised voice
When I dared him to fight me at Tekken
The clash of our claymores rang through the glens
And on 90.3 FM
And was it for real or was it a dream
When I buried my steel in his belly?
Tinnitus fell, the director yelled
'Cut!' then they put it on telly
The Campbells are coming, I'm long in the tooth
Was it because my hair is all gone?
I sit on the set in a sporran and kilt
My name is Winterblossom
Gall and wormwood under my tongue
Bonnie Prince Charlie's an arsehole
My friends are dead, it's cold and wet
My name is Rob McMurdo
I'll no be taken for granted
And I'll no be turned away
I try to be normal, really I do
I try not to chew on my hat
I sit on the table, eat soup from the ladle
I really would like to be fat
If it paid to be straight God knows I'd be straight
God knows I'd be straight as a die
If I could get it on with a sweet little blonde
I swear I would give it a try
I'm an ultraconformist, I walk through the week
With my tongue in my pocket, my hand in my cheek
But I'd let out a cry as loud as the sky
If you could as an ordinary guy
If you could as an ordinary guy
Singing boo ralla ralla
Boo ralla ree
Bang dilla mulla too ray
Singing boo tirra lirra
Moo ralla ralla
Filla gorilla today
If it paid to be sane, God knows I'd be sane
God knows I could live out a lie
If I could get a thrill popping little blue pills
I swear I would give it a try
I'm an ultraconformist I sit at my desk
With a gun in my pocket, a pain in my chest
But I'd let out a cry as loud as the sky
If you could as an ordinary guy
If you could as an ordinary guy
Singing boo ralla ralla
Boo ralla ree
Bang dilla mulla too ray
Singing boo tirra lirra
Moo ralla ralla
Filla gorilla today
I'd be an ultraconformist, an orderly man
If these dustbin lids didn't just beg to be banged
And I'd let out a cry as loud as the sky
If you could as an ordinary guy
If you could as an ordinary guy
Singing boo ralla ralla
Boo ralla ree
Bang dilla mulla too ray
Singing boo tirra lirra
Moo ralla ralla
Filla gorilla today
Singing boo ralla ralla
Boo ralla ree
Bang dilla mulla too ray
Singing boo tirra lirra
Moo ralla ralla
Filla gorilla today
Singing boo ralla ralla
Boo ralla ree
Bang dilla mulla too ray
Singing boo tirra lirra
Moo ralla ralla
Filla gorilla today
I'm the ultraconformist I walk through the week
With my tongue in my wallet, my wad in my cheek
But I'd let out a cry as loud as the sky
If you could as an ordinary guy
To the first I'm dreaming
To the second screaming
To the third I'm falling into reverie extreme
To the fourth I'm swooning
To the fifth I'm gloomy
By the sixth see Dr Robert Moog
Entering my room with Alex and his Droogs
Let's play the symphonies of Beethoven
Grooving in the nude with Alex and his Droogs
Let's play the symphonies of Beethoven
Let's get in the nude with Dr Robert Moog
To the sixth I'm cooing
In the seventh fooling around
To the eighth I'm doing things I've never done before
I hallucinate in Nine
Under blood red lights, drinking blood red wine
And Alex will be mine
I'll say it one more time
While Beethoven sits composing ten
Tiny glass animals stand on my desk
Music will blow them away
I have a disease, I'm down on my knees
Wrapped up in bandages, weightless
Look at my face here at your waist
Through stereo wide angle lenses
Nude on my chair, combing my hair
Deaf in orange
I play the symphonies of Beethoven
Naked in the rain, time and time again
Let's play the symphonies of Beethoven
Let's get in the mood with Dr Robert Moog
Let's play the symphonies of Beethoven
Grooving in the nude with Alex and his Droogs
Let's play the symphonies of Beethoven
Let's get in the mood .....
I sent a postcard to Hell
To wish the Devil happy birthday
He replied with an orange mechanique
The Tamagotchi will speak to no-one today
He does not even read your paper anyway
We cannot guarantee he will appear at Cannes
And if he does he'll do no one-to-ones
He is asleep
And when he wakes he will need to be fed
Then he will sing
Then he will go back to bed
No interviews with Mr Tamagotchi today
We are dismayed by your attempts to invade his privacy
Please go away! Please, go away!
Goodbye!
His painting exhibition is at Andrea Rosen
His rock band rocks the Buddokan
And his book 'I, Tamagotchi' is in its third impression
this week
But Mr Tamagotchi is asleep
No interviews with Mr Tamagotchi today
We are dismayed by your attempts to invade his privacy
Please go away! Please, go away!
Goodbye!
Please go away!
No interviews today
Good day! (Hoppit!)
Please go away!
It's been hell to keep this secret for so long
The fact that Shawn wants to propose to you in a Stars
Forever song
And Emily, for all I know you may already know
I had to open my big mouth
To Spin and Rolling Stone, didn't I?
I tried to keep this secret on my own, but how could I?
When I told you I was born to be adored
I never thought one day I'd find myself kneeling at
your door
A bunch of plastic roses from a funny one-eyed man
Even this one knee I'm on
Is another man's, Emily
I'm your sinister gorilla kissogram, Emily
Photographs are prototypes of memories
Memories are better than the truth
Promises and facts are often enemies
Emily, that's the story of my youth
Hoo-hoo-hoo
Hoo-hoo-hoo
Hoo-hoo-hoo
Ba-ba-ba
Marriage, though I seemed to get it wrong
Can be beautiful, believe me, as lovely as a song
And Emily, for all I know your answer may be no
But if you go that road, Shawn
Will be lonesome for so long
Though my chance has been and gone
I'd still do it all again with anyone
It's been hard to keep this secret for so long
But not as hard as being a Carpenter or a friend of
Elton John
And under my disguise, the gorilla kissogram
Beats a heart that's warm
But the heart belongs to Shawn
I've been trying to take your breath away
For a better man
Emily