| Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:21 | 
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This is how it works
It feels a little worse Than when we drove our hearse Right through that screaming crowd While laughing up a storm Until we were just bone Until it got so warm That none of us could sleep And all the styrofoam Began to melt away We tried to find some words To aid in the decay But none of them were home Inside their catacomb A million ancient bees Began to sting our knees While we were on our knees Praying that disease Would leave the ones we love And never come again On the radio We heard November Rain That solo's really long But it's a pretty song We listened to it twice 'Cause the DJ was asleep This is how it works You're young until you're not You love until you don't You try until you can't You laugh until you cry You cry until you laugh And everyone must breathe Until their dying breath No, this is how it works You peer inside yourself You take the things you like And try to love the things you took And then you take that love you made And stick it into some Someone else's heart Pumping someone else's blood And walking arm in arm You hope it don't get harmed But even if it does You'll just do it all again And on the radio You hear November Rain That solo's awful long But it's a good refrain You listen to it twice 'Cause the DJ is asleep On the radio (oh oh oh) On the radio On the radio - uh oh |
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| 2. |
| 3:09 |
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In Dusseldorf I met a clown
His nose It was red In Gelterkinden I forgot to frown Then remembered It again In Paris I saw a big fish Swimmin' slow In the Seine It made me hopeful that someday Our water will be breathable again Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh Oh, oh, oh In Franfurt I heard eins zwei drei Counting cookies, and no one was shot In Berlin, stopped by the polizei For drunk driving, and everyone smiled In Prague I knew I'd been a witch Burnt alive, a pyre of Soviet kitsch It made me miss my Moscow muttdom It made me miss my New York nothing Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Oh-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh Oh, oh, oh In Montpelier I stayed in a chateau A boy climbed into my bed and he knew no boundaries, and in Amsterdam I got quite crazy Might have been all the tulips and canals Or it might have been all that hash, and in Barcelona, buenos dias Chocolate, le Picasso And in Brussels Clean-cut hostel And in London Me and the French existentialists Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Oh-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Oh-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh In Corsica I floated away All the way To Marseilles I should have held an afterparty For all the thoughts I didn't say In Dusseldorf I met a dwarf With bad breath And a really good tan In Gelterkinden I remembered how to laugh And I never, ever forgot it again Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Oh-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh Ah-ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, ohh Ah-oh-oh Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh... |
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