Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
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I'm wheels, I am moving wheels
I am a 1952 studebaker coupe I'm wheels, I am moving wheels moving wheels I am a 1952 starlite coupe... En route.....les Souterrains Des visions du Cody...Sartori a Paris... Strange spaghetti in this solemn city... There's a postcard we're all seen before... Past wild-haired teens in dark clothing With hands-full of autographed napkins we eat apples in vans with sandwiches ... rush Into the lobby life of hurry up and wait Hurry up and wait for all the odd-shaped keys Which lead to new soap and envelopes... Hotel room homesickness on a fresh blue bed And the longest-ever phone call home.....no Sleep no sleep no sleep no sleep and no mad Video machine to eat time... a cityscene I can't explain, the Seine alone at 4am The Seine alone at 4a.....Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... |
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2. |
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I need to feel your heartbeat heartbeat
so close, feels like mine all mine I need to feel your heartbeat heartbeat so close it feels like mine all mine... I remember the feeling my hands in your hair hands in your hair I remember the feeling of the rhythm we made the rhythm we made I need to land sometime feel your heartbeat heartbeat right next to me..... |
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3. |
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4. |
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I come back...come back
you see my return my returning face is smiling smile of a waiting man... I be home soon soon soon soon cry on your shoulder your shoulder against my burning tears tears of a waiting man... one two three four one two three... I wait every moment I wait, wait for my chance I wait for my friend to say hello, you waiting man feel no fret feel no fret feel no fret you can wait and feel no fret and so I wait so I wait so I wait so I wait I return face is smiling be home soon cry on your shoulder tears of a waiting man every moment wait for my chance my friend say hello feel no fret you can wait and I wait and I wait and home I am... |
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5. |
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Good morning, it's 3am in this great roaring
city full of garbage eaters ravaging parking spots beneath my plaza window I see cheetah in their tight skins and tired heels all-night hippo in the diner crossing the street swarthy heards of young impala flambastic gibbon even a struggling monza and over there that brilliant head ornament on that Japanese macaque but look closely at the hammerhead hand in hand with the mandrill, it's a sight you're unlikely to see anywhere else on the planet... the stench and noise, yes, yes, the howler's resonating repertoire is not too bad when mixed with the more musical twern of the tropical warbler but the impatient taxi blare the squawking elderly ibis and the glass-eye snapper hawking papers I can certainly live without also be cautious of the poisonous boomslang laughter social droppings of the fruit bat and purple queen fish and who's that babbler conversing with a magazine stand? evidently he's getting a good reply... arrive in neurotica through neon heat disease I swear at the swarming heards I sweat the foul terrain I rove the moving scenery arrive in neurotica through neon heat disease I swear at the swarming heards I sweat the foul terrain I rove the moving scenery I have no fin no wing no stinger no claw no camouflage I have no more to say... Say...isn't that an elephant fish on the corner over there look at that blush baby mud puppy noolbenger rhinoderma marmoset spring peeper shingleback skink siren skate starling sun-gazer spoonbill and suckers, they seem to be everywhere, well it's a live revue random animal parts now playing nightly right here in neurotica...so long... |
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6. |
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Oh they're touching
They're touching each other They're feeling They push and move And love each other, love each other They fit together like two hands...two hands... I am a face in the painting on the wall I pose and shudder And watch from the foot of the bed Sometimes I think I can Feel everything... The wind is blowing My hair in their direction The wind is bending my hair There are no windows in the painting No open windows, no open windows, no... they're touching They're touching each other They push and move And love each other, love each other They fit together like two hands two hands two hands two hands |
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7. |
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Here is the angel of the world's desire
Placed on trial To hide in shrouded alley sihouettes With cigarette coiled To stike at passing voices Dark and suspect Here is the howling ire Here is the sacred face of rendevous In subway sour Whose grand delusions prey like intellect In lunatic minds Intent and focused on The long thin matches To light the howling fire... No, no, not me, Burn, I don't wanna burn..... |
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8. |
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