1. _ Hair Of The Dog
The man who was mortally wounded in war
Kept on fighting
The man who was cut to the quick by love
Kept on loving
The man who was merciless tortured by thoughts
Kept on thinking
The man who was crippled with concern
Kept on caring
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog that turned
Hair of the dog
The man whose eyes were sore from obscenities
Kept on looking
The man whose heart bled, killed by compassion
Kept on feeling
The man whose legs buckled under exertion
Kept on running
The man whose ears burned to the sound of his own name
Kept on listening
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog that turned
Hair of the dog
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2. _ Telegram Sam
(marc bolan)
Telegram sam
Telegram sam
You're my main man
Golden nose slim
Golden nose slim
I know's where you been
Purple pie pete
Purple pie pete
Your lips are like lightning
Girls melt in the heat
Telegram sam
You're my main man
(x2)
Bobby's alright
Bobby's alright
He's a natural-born poet
He's just outta sight
Jungle-faced jake
Jungle-faced jake
I say make no mistake
About jungle-faced jake
Automatic shoes
Automatic shoes
Give me 3-d vision
And the california blues
Me i funk
But i don't care
I ain't no square with my corkscrew hair
Telegram sam
Telegram sam
I'm a howlin' wolf for you
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3. _ Mask
The man of shadows thinks in clay
Dreamed trapped thoughts of suffocation day
He's seen in iron environments
With plastic sweat out of chiselled slits for eyes
From the growth underneath the closed mouth
You'll catch if you listen
Rack-trapped cubist vowels
From a dummy head expression
From a dummy head expression
The transformation is invested
With the mysterious and the shameful
While the thing i am becomes something else
Part character part sensation
The shadow is cast
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4. _ The Spy In The Cab
Hidden in the dashboard
The unseen mechanized eye
Under surveillance
The road is full of cats eyes
It's sick function to pry
The spy in the cab
Coldly observing- callously reserving
A drivers time
Automated autonomy
Playing on his mind
The spy in the cab
The spy in the cab
An eye for an eye
A spy for an eye
An eye for an eye
A spy for a spy
A twenty-four hour unblinking watch
Installed to pry
Installed to cop
The spy in the cab
The spy in the cab
The spy in the cab
I spy with my little eye spy with my little i spy with my
Little eye spy with my little i spy... spy... spy
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5. _ Dancing
Dancing on hot tiles
Dancing on tender hooks
Dancing down church aisles
Dancing on holy books
Dancing on crocodiles
Dancing on hallowed ground
Dancing nyjinsky style
Dancing with the lost and found
Dancing on rock 'n roll's grave
Dancing on burning coals
Dancing on "jesus saves"
Dancing with old scratch soul
Dancing on flick knives
Dancing a stiletto groove
Dancing our nine lives away
Dancing in the louvre
Dancing in catacombs
Dancing in tuxedo drag
Dancing in dark rooms
Dancing on all your flags
Dancing in the vatican
Dancing on the papal gown
Dancing on the taxman
Dancing on the crown
We're dancing to the dark side of this tune
We're dancing to the dark side of this tune
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6. _ Double Dare
I dare you, to be real
To touch a flickering flame
The pangs of dark delight
Don't cower in night fright
Don't back away just yet
From destinations set
I dare you to be proud
To dare to shout aloud
For convictions that you feel
Like sound from bells to peal
I dare you to speak of your despise
For bureaucracy, hypocracy- all liars
I dare
I dare
I dare- you- you
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7. _ Stigmata Martyr
In a crucifixion ecstasy,
Lying cross chequed in agony.
Stigmata bleed continuously.
Holes in head, hands, feet, and weep for me.
Stigmata oh you sordid sight,
Stigmata in your splintered plight.
Look into your crimson orifice,
In holy remembrance,
In scarlet bliss,
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum.
Father, son, and holy ghost,
Stigmata Martyr.
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8. _ St. Vitus Dance
Back in the good old dance when dancing meant exploding
The idea was simple for a decent overloading
And for a multiple flash with no cords attached
He came up with a more remote flash trigger
It's connected to an accessory in his hip
Which automatically fires in perfect synchro
But perhaps his most exciting development is his angle
They call it the dance
It's the st. vitus dance
Such flexibility
What an accessory
See his soft bounce
What flexibility
Such a soft bounce
What an accessory
And for special effects he has six filters
Three coloured red with the others pilfered
And if you really want to know what that means
He could throw a blue flash from eighty-five feet
Of course you might want to check out your own little output
So we devised a few simple and easy to crack contortions
So you can bump and scrape all the day through
With the dance.
It's the st. vitus dance, the st. vitus dance
Such flexibility
What an accessory
Such a soft bounce
What flexibility
Such a soft bounce
Check his hot shoe
Feel his output
He's a light machine, see his angle
He's a light machine
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9. _ In The Flat Field
A gut pull drag on me
Into the chasm gaping we
Mirrors multy reflecting this
Between spunk stained sheet
And odourous whim
Calmer eye- flick- shudder- within
Assist me to walk away in sin
Where is the string that theseus laid
Find me out this labyrinth place
I do get bored, i get bored
In the flat field
I get bored, i do get bored
In the flat field
Yin and yang lumber punch
Go taste a tart then eat my lunch
And force my slender thin and lean
In this solemn place of fill wetting dreams
Of black matted lace of pregnant cows
As life maps out onto my brow
The card is lowered in index turn
Into my filing cabinet hemispheres spurn
I do get bored, i get bored
In the flat field
I get bored, i do get bored
In the flat field
Let me catch the slit of light
For a maiden's sake
On a maiden flight
In the flat field i do get bored
Replace with picadilly whores
In my yearn for some cerebral fix
Transfer me to that solid plain
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
And drag me there with deafening haste
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10. _ Bela Lugosi's Dead
White on white translucent black capes
Back on the rack
Bela lugosi's dead
The bats have left the bell tower
The victims have been bled
Red velvet lines the black box
Bela lugosi's dead
Undead undead undead
The virginal brides file past his tomb
Strewn with time's dead flowers
Bereft in deathly bloom
Alone in a darkened room
The count
Bela logosi's dead
Undead undead undead
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11. _ Dark Entries
Caressing bent up to the jug again
With sheaths and pills
Invading all those stills
In a hovel of a bed
I will scream in vain
Oh please miss lane
Leave me with some pain
Went walking through this city's neon lights
In fear of disguising my warping seathing
Pressure lines and graceless heirs
Intangible of price
Trying so hard to find what? what was right
I came upon your room it stuck into my head
We leapt into the bed degrading even lice
You took delight in taking down
All my shielded pride
Until exposed became my darker side
Puckering up and down some avenue of sin
Too cheap to ride they're worth a try
If only for the old times cold times
Don't go waving your pretentious love
He's soliciting on his tan brown brogues
Girating through some lonesome devils row
Pinpointing well meaning upper class prey
Of walking money checks posessing holes
He often sleekly offers his services
Exploitation of his finer years
Work with loosely woven fabrics
Of lonely office clerks
Any lay suffices his dollar green eye
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12. _ A God In An Alcove
Go and look for the dejected once proud
Idol remembered in stone aloud
Then on coins his face was mirrored
Take a look it soon hath slithered
To a fractured marble slab, renunciation clad
His nourishment extract from his subjects
That mass production profile
He's a god- in- in an alcove
Once he spread the rain
So they dreamt in vain
Once he spread the wheat
Had made garlands for his feet
Until the lily poet of our times
Horizoned on the line
Love became the in theme then
Opposing fakers thrice by ten
Don't perceive his empty plea
That redundant effigy
He's a god- in- in an alcove
Take in view his empty stool
What's left is satin cool
Clawing adornment for his crimes
They saw they had to draw the line
So they sent him far away
So they sent him far away
To a little alcove
To a little alcove
All alone
He's a god, a god
Now i am silly
Now i am silly
Silly, silly, silly, silly
Silly
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13. _ The Passion Of Lovers
She had nut painted arms
That were hers to keep
And in her fear
She sought cracked pleasures
The passion of lovers is for death said she
Licked her lips
And turned to feather
And as i watched from underneath
I came aware of all that she keep
The little foxes so safe and sound
They were not dead
They'd gone to ground
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
She breaks her hear
Just a little too much
And her jokes attract the lucky bad type
As she dips and wails
And slips her banshee smile
She gets the better of the bigger to the letter
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
The passion of lovers is for death
The passion of lovers is for death said she
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14. _ Terror Couple Kill Colonel
His eyes were heavy
He carried a card
One couple question
The other discharged
Terror couple kill colonel
In his west german home
Three shots from three feet
Dragged himself to the phone
Terror couple kill colonel
Terror couple kill colonel
And as he lay there
Playing games with his pain
He felt his choice of jobs
Was such a mistake
He could have been a doctor
In a soft easy chair
In stead he chose three stars
A territorial affair
Terror couple kill colonel
Terror couple kill colonel
In his west german home
In his west german home
In his west german home
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1979-83 Volume 1 » Тэксты