- published: 02 Jun 2016
- views: 3231
Jeffrey Scott "Jeff" Buckley (November 17, 1966 – May 29, 1997), raised as Scotty Moorhead, was an American singer-songwriter and guitarist. He was the son of Tim Buckley, also a musician. After a decade as a guitarist-for-hire in Los Angeles, Buckley amassed a following in the early 1990s by playing cover songs at venues in Manhattan's East Village, such as Sin-é, gradually focusing more on his own material. After rebuffing much interest from record labels and his father's manager Herb Cohen, he signed with Columbia, recruited a band, and recorded what would be his only studio album, Grace.
Over the following two years, the band toured widely to promote the album, including concerts in the U.S., Europe, Japan and Australia. In 1996, they stopped touring and made sporadic attempts to record his second album in New York with Tom Verlaine as producer. In 1997, Buckley moved to Memphis, Tennessee, to resume work on the album, to be titled My Sweetheart the Drunk, recording many four-track demos while also playing weekly solo shows at a local venue. While awaiting the arrival of his band from New York, he drowned during a spontaneous evening swim — fully clothed — in the Wolf River, when he was caught in the wake of a passing boat. His body was found on June 4, 1997.
You mind us of beeing crippled
Mass appear to watch devil
Radio why you’re so late
You turn to make your brain
It’s a shame
There’s no blood to bleed , no sex to seeing with
I wish that you will never (…)to begin with
Ra, radio , ra ra ra hey
Oh no my radio !
You big brother radio
You suck the jam of the big fat toe
Cos you know you’re killing me
You don’t even know the sounds
Tell me , you bitch
Hopefully know the way that the fucking smashed ass
They’re really great , I really think they are
If you want to steal the (…)of my car is a radio
Ra ra ra , oh
Ra-di-o !
Radio ! Me and all each
Radio ! Watch do the bitch
Radio ! You my truck feel like you (……) feel good !
Radio ! Radio ! Radio ! The children (…) medicine , you
…fuck you want to …us
Radio , radio , oh
Yo ! One ( …) day
You’ll be my wife
Radio ! ! You put me in a edge
(…) For one thousand tapes
Make sure that a song (…)
Fuck off !
Ra ra ra - Oh radio !
Ra ra ra ra (…)