Live At The Witch Trials

Someone's always on my tracks
In a dark room you see more than you think
I'm out of my place, got to get back
I sweated a lot, you could feel the violence



I've got shears pointed straight at my chest
And time moves slow when you count it
I'm better than them, and i think i'm the best
But i'll appear at midnight when the films close



Cause i'm in a trance
And i sweat
I don't want to dance
I want to go home.



I couldn't live in those peephole places
They might get to know my actions
I'd run away from toilets and faeces
I'd run away to a non-date on the street



Cause i'm in a trance
And i sweat
I don't want to dance
I want to go home.



I feel trapped by mutual affection
And i don't know how to use freedom
I spend hours looking sideways
To the time when i was sixteen



Cause i'm in a trance.



I'm frightened.
Amphetamine frightened



I go to the top of the street
I go to the bottom of the street
I look to the sky, my lips are dry....

Er, what's this song about?
Er, nothing.



None
No recipes
It was like a see-saw
No
It was like an up and down
Bye bye
Mother, sister
Mother, sister
Why did you put your head in?



Reach or preach
It's all a diminished return
Now
Floorboard
Creaks



Mother, sister
Mother, sister
Why did you push your head in?



Astray
Our friends
And the fathers are underground
Your mouth is sold out



Mother, sister
Mother, sister
Why did you put your head in?



The pylon

The x in x-mas is a substitute crucifix for christ
No christmas for john quays



The powders reach
And the powders teach
And when you find they can't reach
There is no christmas for junky



He thinks he is
More interesting
Than the world
But buying cigs
Puts him in a whirl



A packet of three-five fives
555
A packet of those over there
And 20 special offer cigars



Found talking to the cigarette machine
Into nicotinic acid
Good king wenceslaus, he looked out
Silly bugger, he fell out



He spits in the sky
It falls in his eye
Then he gets to sit in
Talking to his kitten


And talking about frankie lymon


Tell me why is it so?
Tell me why is it so?


Out of his face with the idle race
Out of the room with his tune



Although the skins are thin
He knows its up to him
To go out or stay in



I'll stay in
I'll stay in



You
Me
X-mas
X-mas



There is no christmas for junkies
No girls
No curls
Just the traffic passing by
Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye
1,2,3,4



No x-mas for john quays

I was in a sleeping dream
When a policeman brought my mother home
By the window i didn't scream
I was too old for that



I was in a drunken dream
The pubs were closed
It was three o'clock
At the bottom of the street it seemed
There was a policeman lost in the fog



I understand but i don't see it
I understand but i don't see it
I understand but i don't read it
Futures and pasts



You can cry for your lost childhood
Will you cry for our lost childhoods?
But remember how you hated it
And worse cause you couldn't state it?



And it's time for the note, see it
And it's time for the note, say it
And it's time for the note, read it
Futures and pasts



Look at the woman of thirty-nine
Look at the man of forty-nine
You can read their lousy lives
You can see their ugly face lines



They understand but they don't see it
They understand but they don't see it
I understand but i don't read it
Futures and pasts



I understand but i don't see it
I understand but i don't see it
I understand but i don't read it
Futures and pasts

I'm searching for the now
I'm looking for the real thing, yeah



Head through a blue haze
Waiting for the musical craze
We gotta taxi for mr. nelson
Taxi for mr. nelson



Rebellious jukebox yeah
Rebellious jukebox, oh



No sounds at first came out
This machine had dropped out
But it made music to itself
Made music for itself



Rebellious jukebox yeah
Rebellious jukebox now



I'm looking for the home of the real
I want a happy time now


Drinkers from the slaughterhouse
Weren't happy and went out
Noise resounds aloud
Noise resounds the lounge



Rebellious jukebox yeah
Rebellious jukebox oh



I sidled up to a fruit machine
This i was imagining:
Some drinkers dancing at the bar
Drinkers dancing for the bar



Rebellious jukebox yeah
Rebellious jukebox now



I'm searching for the now
I'm looking for the real thing yeah

Everybody likes me
They think i'm crazy
Pull my string and i do my thing.



Two steps back



I don't need the acid factories
I've got mushrooms in the fields
Julian* said "how was the gear?"
They don't sell things to you over there
A cigarette goes out when you put it down.



Two steps back



Had a look at the free festivals
They're like cinemas with no films
You could make a fire with the seats
You could boil up some cigar [cig-ah!] dimps
Or get into the sound
Wait for the ice cream to come around.



Two steps back
Two doors down



I meet my old friends there
They queue up for cash there
They are part irish
They have no conscience
They get threatened by the cracker factory.



Two steps back



Cracker factory:
A place where you get into the working routine again.
Rehabs for no hopes
Prefab for jobless dopes.