Discount can refer to:
Chris August Megert (born March 20, 1982) is an American Contemporary Christian musician who performs under the stage name Chris August. He began recording as a secular musician before switching to Christian music. His song "Starry Night" which reached #1 on the Billboard Christian Songs chart in 2010/2011. He was nominated at the 2011 Dove Awards in five categories, including Best New Artist and Song of the Year.
August began recording music in his early teens after his father built a studio in their home in Garland, Texas. He became a Christian when he turned 15 years old and began to record music.
August continued to practice and release his first self-produced album A Beautiful Thing as a 22 year old under the name Chris Megert and the Love Jones. The album was found by Ryan Cabrera who guided August to a new manager, Jessica Simpson's father Joe Simpson. August landed a contract with Geffen Records and he moved to Los Angeles in 2005. He helped with producing records for Brian McKnight and Jessica Simpson as well as playing keyboards on Ashlee Simpson's tour; he also played as the opening act on Ashlee Simpson's tour. August's contract with Geffen fell through while they were renegotiating his contract so he went back home to Texas.
Alison Nicole Mosshart (born November 20, 1978) is an American singer, songwriter and occasional model best known as the lead vocalist for the indie rock band The Kills and blues rock band The Dead Weather. She started her musical career in 1995 with the Florida punk rock band Discount which disbanded in 2000. She then co-founded The Kills with British guitarist Jamie Hince (formerly of Scarfo and Blyth Power) in 2000.
In The Kills, Mosshart is known by her stage name "VV" and Hince is known as "Hotel".
In early 2009, she joined the supergroup The Dead Weather, formed by Jack White, along with Jack Lawrence and Dean Fertita. In that band, her stage name is "Baby Ruthless."
She features on the 2006 Primal Scream song Dolls (Sweet Rock and Roll), from the album Riot City Blues, as well as on the Placebo song Meds, the title track of their 2006 album.
In April 2011, Mosshart contributed to Vogue.co.uk's Today I'm Wearing feature, sharing a picture of her outfits each day for one month.
Before the two had even met, Mosshart and Hince overheard each other playing music while sharing the same hotel during Mosshart's European tour with Discount. They finally met up, and started playing around with some music ideas. After she went back to Florida, she continued writing songs with Jamie, by sending her ideas overseas to London, where he lived. She became very exhausted and ill, so after saving money, Mosshart moved to London and the duo officially started.[citation needed] She has tattooed the date of their first concert on her left hand : 14th of february 2002.
Plot
When a liquor store owner finds a case of "Viper" in his cellar, he decides to sell it to the local hobos at one dollar a bottle, unaware of its true properties. The drinks causes its consumers to melt, very messily. Two homeless lads find themselves up against the effects of the toxic brew, as well as going head to head with "Bronson" a Vietnam vet with sociopathic tendencies, and the owner of the junkyard they live in.
Keywords: african-american-man, bare-breasts, bare-butt, blood, blood-splatter, braless, brother-brother-relationship, bum, castration, chase
Things in New York are about to go down the toilet...
Just when you thought you had seen it all.
It melts
If you've never seen a melt movie before.... be prepared!
[after storming into Ed's liquor store, pointing a finger in Ed's face]::Fred: Fuck you. Gimme a bottle of booze, here's my dollar, suck my dick!
Burt: Well, what you starin' at, bitch?::Old Woman Shopper: You're robbing the store, young man! And I'm telling the Manager.::Burt: Yeah, you do that. Old wrinkled, honky motherfucker. Telling on me... Well, what she think this is, Junior High?
Burt: Ain't good for the image, Fred. You looked too god damn comfortable! people ain't gonna pity you no more!::Fred: I don't know how I managed to look comfortable. Fuckin'Wizzy planted his foot halfway up my ass.::Burt: Oh, well, he was just plantin' corn. Get it? Corn... his foot! In yo' ass! Ha ha! Hey, where's your sense of humor, boy?::Fred: I lost it when Wizzy kicked me in the ass!
Doorman: Everybody's a hot-headed gangster. Everybody's Mister Mafia. Ha! The Don! The Don of Douchebags, that's what you are. Nick - Nick the Dick. That's what they call you, behind your back, you and your restaurant. Your stinkin' restaurant.
Nick Duran: You're a fucking dead man, you fucking rat. You know what a fucking dead man is? That's what you are, a fucking dead man.::Doorman: Yeah? Well I'll tell you something. I'd rather be dead than wear this fucking monkey suit. I look like Bullwinkle.
Bitchy Businesswoman: [Refering to a friend, whose face is melting] Officer, he's in tremendous pain, can't you do something?::Bill The Cop: Lady, I can only save one person at a time.::Bitchy Businesswoman: What, because he's a male?::Bill The Cop: Did anybody throw anything?::Concerned Businessman: Sss - no, it suddenly happened - suddenly - uh...::Bitchy Businesswoman: Can I talk now? Why don't you do something for this man and stop following the rules?::Bill The Cop: Lady, what's the difference between you and a tape recorder except that I can't shut you off?::Bitchy Businesswoman: You know, you're the type of cop that would use a traffic violation as a ruse to pull me over and rape me.::Bill The Cop: Baby, I ain't sure you don't got a cock.
Store Manager: [Arrives with the old lady] Excuse me, sir...::Burt: Well, hey! What'd you say brother! Hey look, can you tell me when this here product expires?::Store Manager: I'd like to know what you're doing with all that chicken in your pants.::Burt: Say what?::Store Manager: You heard me.::Burt: Well yeah I heard you, but I don't understand. Because it's clear to me that what I'm doing is shopping.::Store Manager: This lady said that you were taking food out of the display cases and stuffing it down your pants and that certainly seems to be the case to me. Are you planning on paying for this food?::Burt: No I ain't planning to paying for it, because I alreay purchased it! [Shows the clerk a coupon that was dropped outside]::Store Manager: This is all dog food on this list and that's chicken comming out of your pants!::Burt: Say what? Let me see that... [Reads the coupon] I don't see no dog food!::Store Manager: That's what the abbreviation stands for.::Burt: Well, shit! That ain't my problem brother! Can't help it if your cashiers see dog food for chicken!::Store Manager: Look, why don't you come with me and we'll get to the bottom of this situation.::Burt: Come with you? Whatcha mean? [Pointing to old woman] Now this old honky skin, white, snitch-ass mother fucker tells you something and you say "Come with me!" Now you're taking her word over mine! Now that's descrimination. Now why don't you just pull down your pants so we can all see the lilly white paint on your Hatian black ass?::Store Manager: Look, you can come with me now, or I'll get the security.::Burt: Hey, now you're talking bro! I'm gonna report you to your superiors!
Ed: [Sees Fred outside] Aw, Christ...::Fred: [Entering the liquor store] You're a nice guy.::Ed: Hey Fred, early bird gets the worm, hah?::Fred: Ah, you just want my one-eyed wonder worm, Eddy.::Ed: That one-eyed wonder worm has been dead for twenty years.::Fred: Yeah. How's your daughter?::Ed: Eh, you'll never know.::Fred: Place looks cleaner than usual.::Ed: Yeah, I swept it out once.::Fred: Huh. So. What you got for me today?::Ed: Today? Tenafly Viper. One buck.::Fred: Buck - not bad. I thought you Jews usually tried to make more money than that.::Ed: Ah, you fuckin' bastard...
Wife In Car: Hurry up, let's make the light. You know how much I hate this neighborhood. [Bronson approaches] Honey, here comes one. [Bronson pushes down on the hood] Oh! Look! Look what he's doing to the car!::Husband In Car: Don't worry about it. Everyone's got to make a living you know.::Wife In Car: Honey!::Husband In Car: Don't do that. I'm only gonna... [to Bronson] Hey, how're you doing there? Vet, huh?::Wife In Car: He's touching the car.::Husband In Car: Look, I'll handle it, it's okay, alright?::Wife In Car: Look what he's doing to the car! He's touching the car!::Husband In Car: Let me handle it, okay? [to Bronson] How're you doing? Y'know, I'm a G-3 at Fort Swansworth on weekends? The Reserves? Y'know they let me shoot one of those M-12 machine guns, y'know those ones you guys had in 'Nam? Pretty fun. Can y - can you get this spot right...?::Wife In Car: Get him away from the car!::Husband In Car: [Pointing] Just this spot... [Bronson grabs him, pulls him out of the window]::Bronson: [Curses incomprehensibly] Let's go! [He slams Husband In Car's face into the car windshield. Wife In Car screams. Bums flee in terror] Weekend warrior.
Frank Schnizer: I don't need this. I already got trouble with my kids, my wife, my business, my secretary, the bums... the runaways, the roaches, prickly heat, and a homo dog. This just ain't my day.
today i saw a girl push a boy down. i felt really bad when his face hit the ground. and when he got up he had a bloody chin. she just stood there staring right back at him. i wonder what he did. it's not up to me. i guess i should just keep walking. maybe she was out of her mind, swinging her fists just for fun. instead of talking you scream and push him down. today on miller st. the sidewalk turned into a boxing ring. people started circling them and i really wonder why they care. he laid there on the ground getting beaten with a purse, just looking around. i think she was having a blast, then the police came so she started to run. maybe she's worried he's a little discouraged. he's not an understanding guy. maybe she's confusing the lines that she's using from a book she read last night.
facts round to false
statements state what you meant
the meaning gets lost under management
i've grown disinterested in numbers
the passing cars
of four-wheeled hearts
just exhaust and cancer
heard a whisper for a wishing
in a gas station i was thinking
about fuel force feeding
what was left wasn't much
unrelative and all out of touch
passion pushed off and never
never again bleeding red and real
now tell me how you fell
tell me how you feel
tell me how how
how do you feel now
imitating machines
before long with mechanical dreams
i'm not what you meant
you're not what i mean
the weapon is not your out all
loaded and wanting to
unload ammunition, shotgun definition of you
passing out holes unaccidental
easier sold than set upon
with a fever your sense of direction saturates into the parade
tightrope and so on the wanting edge
get rid of some excess excess red
and your dead batteries
scrub all the carpets
turn over mattress
burn all your outfits
draw drape the windows
no more adults no more show
no more arrest
no more business go home no more
hands like traffic static
like they ripped your lips off and you can't say a word
tightrope and so on the wanting edge
get rid of some excess excess red
and your dead batteries
shoving into
shadows into
being the spy
blowing smoke on the flowers
they take your spine every time
when it's all blown over wil you be the revolver and count your cards
Malarie's mission. She's walking down the cause way. She's listening for him. She'll listen, she'll listen. She filed the papers, that were necessary for his removal, so she could go home. So she could sleep alone now. Malarie's mission. Free herself from his disaster. His bottled nights. His stranger premonitions. Her life was a wasteland. Held up to drive him away. She dreamt of promises, awoke with lies and mistakes.
I'm further than a mess. My emotions are just madness.
And everything he said to me was miles from the truth.
The ocean makes a crashing sound but I'm so furious.
What seems distant is washing up right here.
The lights are swinging above my head.
Envelope in my hand but it's nothing I haven't read.
You heard the story on the news after she called you from the corner.
She didn't seem so well but you hadn't cared at all.
Flashing lights filled your front lawn.
Now you really wished you never got involved.
The lights are swinging above your head.
Envelope in your hand but it's nothing you haven't read.
It's a catalyst of awkward situations.
Keep your mouth shut and you can't cause no harm.
Is it all so true? Or is it just ridiculous?
what seems real fails to be pointed out.
The lights are swinging above our heads.
i read in the paper that another man made a difference today. column thirteen explained the reasons they had to put him away. but i can't stand here staring all i want in dismas. tomorrow's paper, the same face, different day. regardless, everyone's so indifferent down town. the conversation's still the same apparant run around...
Waited up all night next to the radio. Locked up with you and your K.V. T-shirt. Read allowed (sic) from your travel journal, showed me your photographs even though I didn't know anyone. Locked up with you was fun. You and your K.V. T-shirt. I wouldn't leave if they unlocked the door. I've grown to like this spot on the floor. I wouldn't leave if they unlocked the door. Painted pictures on the wall. It was your idea. I learned about you from your reds and your blues. Spent some time peering through the glass, ran through documentaries of your past even though I'd never been. Locked up with you was fun. You and your K.V. T-shirt.
am i confusing you with lots of stuff with no meaning? i can't help myself. i wake up in the morning, just like you there's no difference. i know sometimes you can't deal with me. i'm always pointing out stuff, you pointed out yesterday. i'm so annoying i wish i'd shut up. why can't you tell me that you hate me? you know you have nothing to lose. are you scared to hurt my feelings? don't you know i know the truth? so where are you right now? i bet i'm so far out of your mind. maybe you'll just drop by. i bet you wouldn't waste your time. i'm so scared now. you can't deal with me. maybe i'm an emotional case, that could use some fixing. you tried telling me that i was a friend to you. but by the look on your face anyone could tell you're lying. i know you hate my guts and i hope you never get your hands on me. i really wish i was someone else today.
for a minute you force contentment
you make me like me like i am
like i could walk in place forever
it would make things more comfortable
for you for you for you
in comes oxidation with any mention
i catch that wind of radiation and suffer in your must
must you- must you be the obstruct
for a minute you force contentment
you make me like me like i should stay in on static circle
it would make me easaier to handle
for you for you for you
in comes oxidation with any mention
i catch that wind of radiation and suffer in your must
must you- must you be the obstruct
the face is blank- believe it
black and white can't capture red and blue
i don't feel so grid and time
leave that idea outside
if you penetrate the door
you've got a hallway highway to some other
can you handle handrail, in all honesty
stats out very uneven
questionable how you're climbing
steps?
what's that mean
i hear the creaking speaking
very well
i stand watching from the banister
we are both equally explosive
you've come in all unexposed and
get your new skin on now
on the outside again
feels funny to you now
looks like you get another shot
here's a bat
you're a hit with me
furious in the fast fast forest
body hollow attic
looking for some skin to share
apostrophe
looking for me
your eyes ask mine if i'm
anywhere
can you scal live wire
quite impaired but i'm dying to take the dare
parental stereo
mute
pointed to an instrumental voice instead so
hitting skin on speed he
red eyes while with me
she in the waiting room
reading into my missing beats
addict par accident
on salary
explaining what was meant by
responsibility swap
response dead
force excess to muffle the curious
oh pardon the circus
she paid for the blinding
he worked for my folding
blindfold active mind like nevermind
sugar on the lip
too young even for innocence
locked in with the toiletry
play dead
knife on tile
awaiting a dead beat trial
beat down the door
tv style
a chance to fuck up another
under the sheets
heat lamp to warm the walking
Milly says she doesn't want to be anything she's ever been cause everything she's ever been, was everything she never wanted to be. Milly says she doesn't want to go any place she's ever been, cause every place she's ever been she's been out of place. And so I'd have to say I understand. Milly says next time she'll close her eyes. Cause everything she's ever seen has made her sad inside. And I'd have to say that I understand. Milly says she doesn't want to go any place she's ever been cause every place she's ever been, she's been out of place. And so I'd have to say I understand.
This is how it happens, everything so fast. Look everything is gone. My world, your world, all in one world. Everything's lost when he gets angry. One red button, that leads to nothing. Wipe out a generation with hell to pay. We can fool our silly hearts of hiding places, cold spaces for continual life. I'll wait by the wayside for our own destruction. There goes our outer layer. Stocks for sun block on the rise. (A frank taste of vulnerability for everybody watching. Nuclear destruction, if it happens, would drink up our atmosphere, leaving us with no strength to survive. Without the ozone layer to protect us life isn't factorable. Is this everything they wanted?)
i would wrap my arms around you, tell you now that things would be ok. i'd make you feel so unsurrounded. until you felt the recklessness slip away. everytime i look at you, you look away. it's amazing the things we could do, the things we could accomplish one day. on the uptown subway you frown 'cause you missed out again. a message for the attendent, you've only got a dollar. looking out across the water, up and down the alleyway. you just need a dollar to ride the subway train. the uptown subway...
take the hip from the battlefield
under awning yawning like fallen limb
i'm just as much a part of it
i'm just as much a part of it
but i take my own hand and i squeeze at the blue
i break my own hand
just to push it through
just to push it through
push it through
push it through
a defect health
lost score
other soar
because honesty is not knowing the difference between where and when
am i out am i in?
step closer to the lighter boy
light a fire around those tired eyes
the heat perspires
retires your disguise
you fall in
you fall out
don't come home like that. home isn't where we should be hiding. this room is echoing terrifically. your tongue is slipping instinctively. it's a shame true feelings run from your bottle. was i nothing more than a part of your foundation? a beam in your scheme. a seam in your creation. and you don't hesitate to hammer us in to the concrete. and you watch us bend because you can't wedge your way into nothingness. don't come home like that. home isn't where we should be hiding. this room is echoing terrifically. your tongue is slipping instinctively. it's a shame true feelings run from your bottle. this is how my house moves and breathes and as awkward as it may be. it's my house and i am breathing its toxicity.
you've had those torn jeans on for days. you keep humming that same song. we never argue but they say it's bad if we get along. on the phone you dry your eyes. you know i can't explain regardless of the direction the earth turns we've got to walk the other way. if you've got to say it i won't mind. i can't justify your pain by saying it's just a matter of time. i got your letter in my box and i was almost ashamed to read it with a smile when i knew i ought to toss it away. i never knew what horrible destruction could happen to this place. it's all silent and defying in our heads, in this case.
[Originally by Billy Bragg]
It may have been Camelot for Jack and Jacqueline
But on the Che Guevara highway filling up with gasoline
Fidel Castro's brother spies a rich lady who's crying
Over luxury's disappointment
So he walks over and he's trying
To sympathise with her but he thinks that he should warn her
That the Third World is just around the corner
In the Soviet Union a scientist is blinded
By the resumption of nuclear testing and he is reminded
That Dr Robert Oppenheimer's optimism fell
At the first hurdle
In the Cheese Pavilion and the only noise I hear
Is the sound of someone stacking chairs
And mopping up spilt beer
And someone asking questions and basking in the light
Of the fifteen fame filled minutes of the fanzine writer
Mixing Pop and Politics he asks me what the use is
I offer him embarrassment and my usual excuses
While looking down the corridor
Out to where the van is waiting
I'm looking for the Great Leap Forwards
Jumble sales are organised and pamphlets have been posted
Even after closing time there's still parties to be hosted
You can be active with the activists
Or sleep in with the sleepers
While you're waiting for the Great Leap Forwards
One leap forward, two leaps back
Will politics get me the sack?
here comes the future and you can't run from it
If you've got a blacklist I want to be on it
It's a mighty long way down rock 'n roll
From Top of the Pops to drawing the dole
If no one seems to understand
Start your own revolution and cut out the middleman
In a perfect world we'd all sing in tune
But this is reality so give me some room
So join the struggle while you may
The Revolution is just a T-shirt away
The sun comes up, over your house, over your head.
Today, simplicity makes you wish you were dead.
I heard you cut and ran.
This time I don't care.
How can you deem me responsible after I explained it all?
I told you again and again, I would last in one place too long.
I was over. But now I understand.
Mind stump. Here's my conclusion. Twelve phone calls and a postcard. This room is dim, why not turn the lights out. What more is it we're losing? I can't see you like this now. I'll just get bad impressions. See the world walking around trying to buy reasasurance. We want to know that someone hopes we're happy here. We want to read something saying tomorrow will be, something saying tomorrow will be better.
you'd kill yourself wouldn't you
you'd kill yourself wouldn't you
you'd put yourself in pieces if you
felt someone could use your pieces
wouldn't you
you'd do it hardly thinking
go for random cuts relieving
how you wanted badly to be an airplane
to take us to your air space
the only place
where you can stop the shaking
you've got all the gasoline
one could ever ever need
say tell that to the one who
tell that to yourself- you
illustrate your grave disorder
walking holes into the floor
tracking drags your fingers alligned
along those locked wide open doors
say it to yourself
no one's gonna do it for you
so shouldn't you
you've got it all blacklined
in measured time a stencil mind
unveils the sleeping motor
dreaming on while your shoulders sink
oh no wonder
you sleep on edge like maybe
if they want me they can take me
but they're gonna have to drag my feet
awake and pacing, preoccupied by the clattering trays, stuck in a daze by the fuzzy ceiling radio and rusty hangings that say, "you love us because we love you. p.s. did i mention there is nothing else we can do?" what's there to say? what's there to do with four kids at home and a husband that drops by every couple of days? what's there to think when there's plenty to forget? it's all about numbing the senses, never getting visibly upset. well, maybe you're right. maybe it's like this everywhere but that's no reason not to leave, just go anywhere, just get out of here. you've been here too long. we don't mind these awful uniforms. we smile when they touch us in the back room. we laugh at their sick jokes and curse them under our breaths...act like we don't know they're standing too close, but any close is too close. always saying, "that one was a close call." awake, and pacing. preoccupied. fuzzy feeling inside. blowing smoke and dodging looks and cursing jokes. well i am visibly upset.
slave with words to form your dig in
got half a hand in hardly missing
in spitting distance
spit the image
got your lips swimming in it
the home is stormed
the nightmare fires
right on time to filter light in
in my jacket you've got back ache
now you've come back for my spine
happens every time
i need it, i need it
everyday pores suck in
in mean reverberations
electricity is conversation
plug in love in saved my life
all the days i've lived all i give
you've given back all of it times everything
why am i so down like this
who am i
the race car
might miss the mouth
i missed the mouth and got it all down the front of your shirt
left a stain to remind you i came and went
and i will remember everything
i need it, i need it
everyday pores suck in
in mean reverberations
electricity is conversation
plug in love in saved my life
all the days i've lived all i give
you've given back all of it times everything
the deep end contriver
drowns a million times
the soar soar soar soldier swims up to the lip
suck in what ever you can
red eyed now every time i try to begin
still calves kick
tick with the tide and i hate every line i ever met
i need it, i need it
everyday pores suck in
in mean reverberations
electricity is conversation
plug in love in saved my life
all the days i've lived all i give
take the hip from the battlefield
under awning yawning like fallen limb
i'm just as much a part of it
i'm just as much a part of it
but i take my own hand and i squeeze at the blue
i break my own hand
just to push it through
just to push it through
push it through
push it through
a defect health
lost score
other soar
because honesty is not knowing the difference between where and when
am i out am i in?
step closer to the lighter boy
light a fire around those tired eyes
the heat perspires
retires your disguise
you fall in
you fall out
you're just skin. you're just eyes. wearing clothes and breathing in, it's never any problem starting again. that must be why you can't smile. that explains the circles circling your tired eyes. you must hate me for killing, ripping off your shoddy disguise. consumed with elbow room and lost in the yellow light, you slip me subtle glares while you attempt to pretend you don't care about anything. from across the room, you slip into the hall and into character. i sit and watch from the couch. i think i'm successfully delirious. your face has faded with the rest of them. this room is full of smoke.
He walked the highway.
He felt the sky and he wished to be part of a peaceful past.
Awake in the hallway.
I can't bring you down my way.
I'm waiting for it all just to explode.
Step out into the street.
Look. What do you see?
Is there anything familiar, Mom?
He's got a gas mask on.
Everybody's waiting for the bomb.
left me on the edge, looking over. you said i was wild but i just felt tired. it's hard to care, just like it's hard to remember, somtimes. and you can't help but drag me into the hall when he is standing right there. everyone can hear you talking. i'm turning inside out. i'm sinking into the floor. i know he's listening and he's following a lot more than you or i. there's holes in the carpet but that's not why we're here. i was getting ready to throw a bunch of garbage, about to say that he might care, about the holes in my outfit enough to thread my life together. needles are flying around the room. welcome to a museum i can't explain. there's no guides today. today. i refuse to speak. my impression's pretty weak. sometimes the past seems way too present.
when reason makes a trip to the other side, we slip under the cover, swim in the town's tide. let go just to discover how little we know about each other, how often we avoid each other's eyes. it's like hail on our backs. we're digging up nothing but broken bones. we determine too much over the telephone. it's like stale laughter and fake smile soup. this tastes like shit. you taste like shit sometimes. you'd be more fun if you weren't so afraid of getting a little salt in your eyes.
when reason makes a trip to the other side, we slip under the cover, swim in the town's tide. let go just to discover how little we know about each other, how often we avoid each other's eyes. it's like hail on our backs. we're digging up nothing but broken bones. we determine too much over the telephone. it's like stale laughter and fake smile soup. this tastes like shit. you taste like shit sometimes. you'd be more fun if you weren't so afraid of getting a little salt in your eyes.
you amidst your machines gone
mad and dreamy
a jar of roses
old anemic
from bright to brown
burners on to keep the plants warm
to keep the air good
to atmospherically calm you down
cords cross the room to ring half
unwilling to pull you from your place
a voice to shake you from your gaze
refocus you on the hot
growing cold
hello to hang up
hands pale
mouth improved from
glued to movement
you smile a bit before falling back into the room
i watch you like you're art
like you are
leaning like you are
to mean something
you stop traffic
you're the source
i'm the addict
surrounded by all your old instruments and fashion books
three years will keep you angry
angry angry
plenty angry and enthused
right into a state of static
moods quite ecliptic
panicked into
some sort of beautiful median
bleeding comedian
emerging from gun smoke
i am aways wrong when
assigning stories
but oh your
face fits so well
i am always off and
bleeding shoddy theory
the dig is grave
tonight i'll run away
tonight i'll run away
tonight will be the night
that i learn to fly
i'll learn to fly, run away
catch me - catch me
tonight i'll explore my life.
no it's finally time to let
out all the bothers me
and push all my anger away.
like a small wanderer only to next door,
but now i'm up and wondering aobut a lot mre,
you ask whats on my mind. what does that look on my face mean. why don't i ever tak about it. inside i crack and wind. sometimes its difficult to think about i know its way to obvious in my eyes. Got a letter from you. says you're leaving in thirteen days. Seems as though you hardly stuck around before you're gone again. i'll always think about you. i get lost. watch the moon shine on the rooftop the way you shined smiles with me in the streets. i'm...confused about what to say. i can't find a way. i don't know if i can make it clear. i'm not sticking around here.
take a circle. and a straight line. put a match against the open end. feel it burning. see the burning. breathe the burning. until it's extinguished again. all those distinctions. clearly ashes in a circle on a square. i stare across it all at you. you stare through it at me. are you still there? are you bent up? being burned out. are you foggy. am i trying now? am i straightening? am i dumping out the circle but hanging on to you? are you lonely in this square? i'm lonely in this cube.
thought of you yesterday, think it's illegal. but i'm running free otherwise, free as a bird. there's no breaking point, no barbed wire army waiting patiently. i sit in a million pieces. who planted the bomb in my coat pocket? spread out, and we move around in the hissing green garden of steam. and yes, i am entirely radioactive you know. the ground melts under my feet. who planted the bomb in my coat pocket? you planted the bomb in my coat pocket. and now we'll both explode.
we sit there on the tracks
it's a place where nothing else seems to matter.
the whole world disappears.
there's no more wars, no more guns,
not more fears, no more excuses to run
from our hopes and dreams.
i want to see it all, i want to start right now.
just get up and leave this place.
put the cans safely back on the shelf. take a breath, grab a hold of yourself. if i had a headache for every other bad day you're dragging around, i'd fall dead on the counter. i'd fall dead on the counter. happy to be lying down. your face reads like a horror flick. eyes react to every movement. it's just, it's just motion. it's just, it's just movement. you're seeing things in malformation. your projection is kind of hazy. it's kind of funny how you're sort of lazy about getting it fixed.
[Originally by Billy Bragg]
I went out drinking with Thomas Paine
He said that all revolutions are not the same
They are as different as the cultures
That give them birth
For no one idea
Can solve every problem on Earth
So don't expect it all to happen
In some prophesied political fashion
For people are different
And so are nations
You can borrow ideas
But you can't borrow situations
In Leningrad the people say
Perestroika can be explained this way
The people who told us
That two and two is ten
Are now trying to tell us
That two and two is five
We're living in a North Sea Bubble
We're trying to spend our way out of trouble
You keep buying these things but you don't need them
But as long as you're comfortable it feels like freedom
My American friends don't know what to do
But they'll wait a long time for a Beverley Hills coup
War! What is it good for
This happened in the past, I should've learned my lesson real fast. It's no surprise I lost again. You turn and look my way, maybe there's a chance some other day. I'll just have to wait until then. I'll just sit and remember the last time we met. This time I won't forget. I'm not sure if you care, most times I'm not aware. Sometimes life's just not fair. So many times before, I'm convinced I know there'll be a lot more. Maybe you'll come around again. You turn and look my way, maybe there's a chance some other day. I'll just have to wait until then.
you bleached the night with your headlights. blinded and caught fire to all my secrecy. and now i'm burning down. can you take one good look around. there's more to see in this rain. i'm having trouble listening on the inside. there's too much going on. on the outside in the sun shine. gravel in my coffe again. headaches for a friend, from a friend. mutual flame extinguishing. and it's because of you. because of you, because of me. we'll never sleep again if we follow the creases. pick up the pieces and sift the gravel from my coffee.
[Originally by R.E.M]
That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane,
Lenny Bruce is not afraid
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn - world
Serves its own needs, dont misserve your own needs. Feed
It off an aux speak, grunt, no, strength,turn, ladder
Start to clatter with fear fight down height. Wire
In a fire, representing seven games, in a government
For hire and a combat site. Left of west and coming in
A hurry with the furies breathing down your neck. Team
By team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered cropped
Look at that low playing! Fine, then. Uh oh,
Overflow, population, common food, but it'll do. Save
Yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs,
Listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and
The revered and the right, right. You vitriolic,
Patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty
Psyched
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine
Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign
Towers. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself
Churn. Locking in, uniforming,and book burning, blood
Letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate
Light a candle, light a motive. Step down, step down
Watch your heel crush, crushed, uh-oh, this means no
Fear cavalier. Renegade steer clear! A tournament,
a Tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions,
Offer me alternatives and I decline
[Chorus]
It's the end of the world as we know it (it's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (it's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (it's time I had some time alone)
I feel fine
[Repeat Chorus]
The other night I dreamt of knives, continental
Drift divide. Mountains sit in a line, Leonard
Bernstein. Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester
Bangs. Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom! You
Symbiotic, patriotic, slam book neck, right? Right
[Repeat Chorus]
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine (it's time I had some time alone)
[Repeat Chorus 2x]
Fine
you've come home. it's been two years. we never heard a word about it. now here you are under the overhang. those suitcases make you look crowded. the distance in your eyes is more apparent than we remembered. cigarettes, month-old dress, your lips- still, confused, and parted. and you say, "can i sit down?" but i can't hear you. the dogs are barking in the background. and you reach for the door knob. i don't try to stop you. i know you can't sit yourself too long.
is it ok if i don't go out i know i promised i would. is it ok if i leave you there? i really think i should. is it ok if i unplug the phone? is it alright to lock every door? is it ok to make rash decisions over nothing while i'm half asleep on the kitchen floor? answer me tonight or never answer this and walk away. take this thought and hold it together. otherwise don't look down...
a conversation after a long day of sidewalk aggrivations
the sky was loveless from the ground up
she's like neon signs and coffee
special personalities
television education
mechanical romance
hit me in the forehead
a missle misdirected
is a pain which is protection
against ever becoming part of the painfully obvious problem
obviously
you, me, someone, somebody
has their fingers crossed instinctually
a conversation about forgetting what it's like to be touched
falling asleep on your stomach
sharing dreams of acidic indigestion
we question in the morning
is this nauseous rendition of life
beyond this position
hit me in the forehead
a missle misdirected
is a pain which is protection
against ever becoming part of the painfully obvious problem
obviously
you, me, someone, somebody
you always wear black. you always talk back. you only say how you feel when the lights are smashed. you hate photos of you smiling. there's documentation on your skin. you don't want me forgetting that you forget nothing. who are you kidding? i can see the fire growing. you want to take it back. i'm a mess of questions. i know you. you know i'd say "you can say anything." history won't make me hate you. history is history is history is history.
The room was dark and black and blue. I bought a copy of the Times for you. There was moer in that room than you and I. Three hours later I read what you had in mind. I can't take it. I can't explain it. I never thought of it before. Today is my last day, my last miserable day. I wish there was something more. Your combative plans for an unguessed end, a circumstance you were sure we wouldn't forget. Am i being illogical? I know hopelessness, lonliness, say it isn't so.
[Originally by Billy Bragg]
Help save the youth of America
Help save them from themselves
Help save the sun-tanned surfer boys
And the Californian girls
When the lights go out in the rest of the World
What do our cousins say
They're playing in the sun and having fun, fun, fun
Till Daddy takes the gun away
From the Big Church to the Big River
And out to the Shining Sea
This is the Land of Opportunity
And there's a Monkey Trial on TV
A nation with their freezers full
Are dancing in their seats
While outside another nation
Is sleeping in the streets
Don't tell me the old, old story
Tell me the truth this time
Is the Man in the Mask or the Indian
An enemy or a friend of mine
Help save the youth of America
Help save the youth of the world
Help save the boys in uniform
Their mothers and their faithful girls
Listen to the voice of the soldier
Down in the killing zone
Talking about the cost of living
And the price of bringing him home
They're already shipping the body bags
Down by the Rio Grande
But you can fight for democracy at home
And not in some foreign land
And the fate of the great United States
Is entwined in the fate of us all
And the incident at Tschernobyl proves
The world we live in is very small
And the cities of Europe have burned before
And they may yet burn again
And if they do I hope you understand
That Washington will burn with them
Omaha will burn with them
it's harder to tell
with all this floor
between the counter and the door
there's been a filling
holes in the ceiling
static
the tv sounds like raining
it's just us
and the furniture
problematically you're smiling
but your teeth aren't directed at me
did i walk in on a one on no one
you're one of those just like me
problematically you're smiling
but your teeth aren't directed at me
did i walk in on a one on no one
you're one of those just like me
nevermind though
that's what it's like, right?
spinning in the morning over beginnings
forgetting and losing and bruising and the
winning of attention
honorable mention
i've got dirty hands
problematically you're smiling
but your teeth aren't directed at me
did i walk in on a one on no one
you're one of those just like me
problematically you're smiling
but your teeth aren't directed at me
did i walk in on a one on no one
you're one of those just like me
admitting the song
is plaing along
you can lean back but it won't be long until you fall back
regretful and wrecked
so let's not
do you love it?
is this what you want?
despite all the answers there's a tendency to question
what's not even questionable
If I listened to my own wise words half the time,
I wouldn't be so sad half the time.
And if I ignored him half the time
and closed my eyes and held my ears and went to bed half the time, I think I'd be all right.
He said, she said, 'I think I'll be alright.'
eight hundred miles for you. eight hundred miles for me. what can i say? it's not so hapless. it's not so harsh. i can take it. so i sit on the porch and i listen to traffic. i read the paper. this is water. this is wood. this is your living room. this feels good. half fiction, half documentary. i'm right on. no. i don't know. there is distance more than miles. but our ideas are adjoining canals.
We walk and think and sink and love and fear. We're afraid of earthing. Dizzy. Spinning. Die. Die before it's all through. Fall and hit my head on you. Cut a coat pocket in my heart to save you. Wait. On this corner I am coming. This will be different. I've learned to feel different. Not through capsules. Zipped up my coat. I'm not so cold. Drained my acid mote. I'm not so alone. I know. I left you. In the mountains. I wrote you a letter. But you needed the mountains. And I had to get better. I'm not going to take back. I meant everything. I sleep better, crazy. I think better, sick. Zipped up my coat. I'm not so cold. I drained my acid mote. I'm not so alone.
Take of your coat
Has you by the throat
Combat the liquid
Mornings that began
And it's climbing in through the window
Here's another stairway to tumble down
You know what that means
They'll come around once more
For broken bones acting like ointment
But it hurts a lot and numbs you out
Hurts a lot and it numbs you out
Hurts a lot and it numbs you out
And it hurts a lot and ? no doubt
Decomposed into background noise
Mouth at a slow suffer
Her coat to thin to line the faithful elevator
Dying to let go
But her hand got cut in my throat
Must have caught you being alone
Do your best to cut my throat
Everybody, everybody, is watching everybody waiting around.
I'm walking to your house. I'm making this trip alone, passing the crowd.
And I say, I think it's a beautiful day.
This place is a charming place if there's such a thing anyway.
the sky, the sun, the eart, the street.
This afternoon seems too perfect.
There's nothing that I want today, nothing I want today,
but this day.
i dreamt this was a castle. i was stuck by the washing machine. you slept by the television. somehow, i couldn't sleep. eventually you woke up and i apologized. you asked me over next to you. i stared at the static lines. your ability to terrify just one lofty night...i tried to move, i tried to sit tight, but in dreams you can never run. you said, "i think i like this." i said nothing. i was shocked...i just stared at the room. the tv flashed those static lines. the room became such a confusing place, as if i didn't know. driving along the highway we laughed but i can't remember where. you said, "i think i like this." i said nothing. i was shocked. the tv flashed those static lines.
i'm wasting my time again, doing stuff i really hate. there goes my life again. i'm slipping into my unhappy state. i want to be better than anything i've been before, and i only want to do stuff that i really want to do. looking at myself clearly i can see what i want to be, but my mind is always wandering off to get drowned occasionally. you think that i have learned but you're wrong, it's getting harder, because the situation is getting worse and i'm not getting any smarter. where is that rome you promised that i could climb? i paid my admission and now you won't let me ride. i'm sick of being disappointed and i'm so sick of being bored. i extended my love to you, instead you used your extension cord.
it's raining on the other side of these walls. the thunder reminds us of the times we hoped for nothing but storms and creepy fishing boats to sink. we wave sometimes to pretend that nothing is changing. but you've gone on and i've gone off to get lost and devistated. the lightning is lighting up the land. the bright light reminds me that my night life is crumbling when the pitch black begins to lose its pitch. but devistation is not the same thing as disaster. one's all smiles, one's all laughter. top it off. clap and cough. feel the rough. this is the little stuff. trees are snapping. trash is slapping my windows. i'm mapping out the stuff that the wind blows. he's blowing kisses. she's making fists. he's sinking boats. it's sinking in. she knows that things are changing.
Will you be there when I fail the first time
I swear it's my last try?
When I need the motivation
you implant in me with your eyes.
I can see the sky.
I can see the sky
but sometimes I'm belly down
and I was wondering if you'd be a mirror
so I could see my way around.
would you, will you, I was wondering,
be there,
do that,
catch me when I'm stumbling?
Will you be there for me?
Will you be there watching me unzip my chest,
exposing my heart to the toxic air?
I need the antiseptic
only your words can provide.
I can hear the laughter.
I can hear the laughter,
but sometimes it's muffled into fear and screams.
I was wondering if you'd be an amplifier
so I could pick up the little things.
Will you be there when
I'm stumbling because of the war in my head
between the static and fuzz?
I'm numb to every touch but your hands on
my back to push me on.
I can feel the weight.
I can feel weight,
but sometimes it pushes me in dangerous ways.
I wondering if you'd be a compass
so I could get my focus back.
Will you be there when I kiss the third rail?
You know, I haven't slept in three days again.
am i missing something in the way you said to me, "we're missing something, let's find the vacancy." the object shouldn't be to be on top of things. we agree that falling off is more interesting. together we've come to the conclusion that all is won even if we're losing. all is successful just as long as we're smiling. together we're lost in confusion. which is fine, our perilous delusion. camp fire, hill top excursion. explosions. it's funny how it happens after so many distant years. you find an outlet in a pair of once distant eyes. fears and rules and fences blow away in our wind. finally there is nothing left to cage us in. i climb. you dive. i slide. you drive. the proof shatters windows. yeah, we're still alive.
i've reached the age of discharge
of spitting up what they put in
you look at me all sigh and sigh
ask me have i cut it
yeah i cut it all the time
break it right down to the skin
scrape it down to the skin
talking to the walls new turned
i'm talking to your face
i've reached the age of discharge
digression had its years of storming backstage
storming backstage
folded arms all
trembling
dying just to
dying just to crash you precious car
i'm dying just to
dying just to crash your precious car
he never hears his own voice
i brace my lips too tight
half spent on hoping for it
to go right just to fuck it up
i can't hold my hands still
so how could i ever hold yours
i invited you over for a locked door
don't get there
don't get there with me
dont get there
i think you've broken in
i think you've reached intersection
i think you've loaded the gun
past formalities into action
the way you stand there
face facing right, eyes locking in
i am your target
pupils dilate to take the hit
no dish. no cable. simply an aerial.
i've got it.
i take the liberty
i take the bait and place the bait
i take all the tools on my belt
sharpen them up and set them out
i've come to notice
i've come to know you
been feeling way too centered
now i'm reaching out of this lazy middle
no dish. no cable. simply an aerial.
i've got it.
now you've locked me straight in the doorway
now you've locked me foreign language
now it's missed what i feared missed
how beside you i am sharing i am
fuck dim shouldered and your
your, you're boredom
[Originally by Billy Bragg]
I've always been impressed with a girl
Who could sing for her supper and get breakfast as well
That's the way I am, heaven help me
He said, "We don't like peace camapigners 'round here"
As he nailed another one to the wall
And that's what gets me in trouble, heaven help me
Goodbye and good luck to all the rubbish that you've spoken
Goodbye and good luck to all the promises
you've broken
Your life has lost its dignity, its beauty and its passion
You're an accident waiting to happen
There you are standing at the bar
And you're giving me grief about the DDR
And that chip on your choulder gets bigger as you
get older
One of these night you're gonna get caught,
It'll give you a pregnant pause for thought
You're a dedicated swallower of fascism
Time up and time out
For all the liberties you've taken
Time up and time out for all the friends that
you've foresaken
If you choose to waste away like death is back in fashion
You're an accident waiting to happen
And my sins are so unoriginal
I have all the self-loathing of a wolf in sheep's clothing
In this carnival of carnivores,
[Originally by Billy Bragg]
Rome never looks where she treads
Always her heavy hooves fall
On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads
And Rome never hears when we bawl
Her sentries pass on -- that is all
And we gather behind them in hordes
And plot to reconquer the Wall
With only our tongues for our swords
For we are the little folk -- we!
Too little to love or to hate
Leave us alone and you'll see
That we can bring down the state
Mistletoe killing an oak
Rats gnawing cables in two
Moths making holes in a cloak
How they must love what they do!
Yes -- and we little folk too
We are as busy as they
Working our works out of view
Watch, and you'll see it some day
No indeed! We are not strong
But we know of Peoples that are
Yes and we'll guide them along
To smash and destroy you in war
We shall be slaves just the same?
Yes, we have always been slaves
But you -- you will die of the shame
And then we will dance on your graves
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot at the root!
We are the taint in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!
if you penetrate the door
you've got a hallway highway to some other
can you handle handrail, in all honesty
stats out very uneven
questionable how you're climbing
steps?
what's that mean
i hear the creaking speaking
very well
i stand watching from the banister
we are both equally explosive
you've come in all unexposed and
get your new skin on now
on the outside again
feels funny to you now
looks like you get another shot
here's a bat
you're a hit with me
furious in the fast fast forest
body hollow attic
looking for some skin to share
apostrophe
looking for me
your eyes ask mine if i'm
anywhere
can you scal live wire
quite impaired but i'm dying to take the dare
so climb