| Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:43 | 
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Cold Brains
Unmoved Untouched Unglued Alone at last no thoughts no mind to rot behind a trail of disaster a final curse abandoned hearse we ride disowned corroded to the bone the fields of green are bent obscene i lay upon the gravel a worm of hope a hangman's rope pulls me one way or the other a final curse abandoned hearse we write this song corroded to the bone a bird of song is heard no longer in the evacuated heavens the drain is drawn and drained and gone and on and on it doesn't matter a final the curse abandoned hearse we write this song corroded to the bone |
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| 2. |
| 5:02 |
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treated you like a rusty blade
a throwaway from an open grave cut you loose from a chain gang and let you go and on the day you said it's true some love holds, some gets used tried to tell you i never knew it could be so sweet who could ever be so cruel, blame the devil for the things you do its such a selfish way to lose the way you lose these wasted Blues these wasted Blues tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own when the moon is a counterfeit better find the one that fits better find the one that lights the way for you when the road is full of nails, garbage pails and darkened jails and their tongues are full of heartless tales that drain on you who would ever notice you you fade into a shaded room it's such a selfish lose the way you lose these wasted blues, these wasted blues tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own tell me that it's nobody's fault nobody's fault but my own |
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| 3. |
| 3:44 |
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lazy flies all hovering above
the magistrate he puts on his gloves and he looks to the clouds all pink and disheveled there must be some blueprints, some creed of the devil inscribed in our minds a hideous game vanishes in thin air the vanity of slaves who wants to be there? to sweep the debris to harness dead horses to ride in the sun a life of confessions written in the dust out in the mangroves the mynah birds cry in the shadows of sulphur the trawlers drift by they're chewing dried meat in a house of disrepute the dust of opiates and syphilis patients on brochure vacations fear has a glare that traps you like searchlights the puritans stare their souls are fluoresecent the skin of a robot vibrates with pleasure matrons and gigolos carouse in the parlor their hand grenade eyes invalid and blind vanishes in thin air the vanity of slaves who wants to be there? to sweep the debris to harness dead horses to ride in the sun a life of confessions written in the dust |
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| 4. |
| 3:14 |
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i hate to do this
but you're a pain in the neck i thought you knew this you're handing me a canceled check you're so helpless your girlfriends think you're a saint i'll give you a quarter i'll keep my judgements to myself and i get caught up in the moonlight reaching out for a rotten egg i don't want to beg it's crystal clear your time is nearly gone count your blessings and do the things that you should o the has-beens that never had it so good stormy weather the kids are making a racket in the wilderness the wild lives are so mild and i get caught up in the moonlight reaching out for a rotten egg i don't wanna beg it's crystal clear your time is nearly gone and i get caught up in the moonlight reaching out for a rotten egg i don't wanna beg it's crystal clear your time is nearly gone.. |
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| 5. |
| 3:05 |
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These withered hands
have dug for a dream sifted through sand and leftover nightmares over the hill a desolate wind turns shit to gold and blows my soul crazy the end of the end we live again oh, I grow weary of the end oh, hungry days in the footsteps of fools gazing alone through sex-painted windows dredging the lake drunk libertines stink like colognes from a new-fangled wasteland the end of the end we live again oh, I grow weary of the end love is a plague in a mix-matched parade where the castaways look so deranged when will children learn to let their wildernesses burn and love will be new never cold and vacant these withered hands have dug for a dream sifted through sand and leftover nightmares the end of the end we live again oh, I grow weary of the end |
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| 6. |
| 3:20 |
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When they beat
Upon a broken guitar And on the streets They reek of tropical charms The embassies lie in hideous shards Where tourists snore and decay When they dance in a reptile blaze You wear a mask An equatorial haze Into the past A colonial maze Where there's no more confetti to throw You didn't know what to say to yourself Love is a poverty you couldn't sell Misery waiting in vague hotels To be evicted You're out of luck You're singing funeral songs To the studs They're anabolic and bronze They seem to strut In their millennial fogs Til they fall down and deflate You didn't know what to say to yourself Love is a poverty you couldn't sell Misery waiting in vague hotels To be evicted One now you've had your fun Under an air conditioned sun It's burned into your eyes Leaves you plain and left behind See them eyes and fall Into the jaws of a pestilent love You didn't know what to say to yourself Love is a poverty you couldn't sell Misery waiting in vague hotels To be a victim |
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| 7. |
| 2:36 |
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where will you go
when this day is over a gambler's purse lays on the road straight to your door snakes have gone crazy tonight winding their way out of sight a laugh, a joke a sentiment wasted seasons of strangers they've come and gone doldrums are pounding, cheapskates are clowning this town who could disown themselves now engineer, slow down this old train cinders and chaff laugh at the moon night birds will cackle rotting like apples on trees sending their dead melodies... to me |
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| 8. |
| 4:56 |
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i just found me a bottle of blues
some strange comfort for a soul to soothe ain't it hard ain't it hard, to want somebody who doesn't want you and i've been waiting for a year, a day some strange weather must be blowin' my way cause i got no mind to go or to stay, or be left behind holdin' hands with an impotent dream in a brothel of fake energy put a nickel in the graveyard machine i get higher and lower i get higher and lower like a tired soldier with nothin' to shoot and nowhere to lose this bottle of blues egos drone and pose alone like black balloons all banged and blown on a backwoods river the infidels shiver in the stench of belief i tell my momma i'm a hundred years late i'm over the rails and out of the race and the crippled psalms of an age that won't thaw are ringing in my ears holdin' hands with an impotent dream in a brothel of fake energy put a nickel in the graveyard machine i get higher and lower i get higher and lower like a tired soldier with nothin' to shoot and nowhere to lose these bottle of blues i just found me a bottle of blues some strange comfort for a soul to soothe ain't it hard, ain't it hard, to want somebody who doesn't want you holdin' hands with an impotent dream in a brothel of fake energy put a nickel in the graveyard machine i get higher and lower i get higher and lower like a tired soldier with nothin' to shoot and nowhere to lose this bottle of blues bottle of blues |
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| 9. |
| 3:59 |
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there is no one; nothing to see
the night is useless and so are we cause everybody knows the fabric of folly is fallin apart at the seams and I've been lookin for a good time but the pleasures are seldom and few there's no whiskey; there's no wine just the concrete and a worried mind cause everybody knows death creeps in slow til you feel safe in his arms... and I've been lookin for a new friend and I don't care if he's decrepit and gray la la la la la... o maria, haven't you known been so careless all on your own cause everybody knows the circus is closed and the animals have gone wild and I've been looking for my shadow but this place is so bright and so clean there is no one; nothing to see the night is useless and so are we cause everybody knows the fabric of folly is fallin apart at the seams and I've been lookin for a good time but the pleasures are seldom and few la la la la la laaaa |
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| 10. |
| 4:20 |
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a town of disrespect
the trains are wrecked the night is younger than us and nowhere is anywhere else you sleep to yourself stirring the dregs where I have laid the exit signs are flashing dead ends, they won't come to life anymore well I pledged the rest I should have guessed your love was hangin by threads tongues tied under the moon your love is a room of broken bottles and tangled webs the miser's wild them eyes like clocks that cock their gears on and on and if it's meant some accident or some coincidence crumbs fall out of the sky as you wander by the dust clouds roam, nobody's home so lay my bags upon all the funeral fire and sing it again |
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| 11. |
| 4:19 |
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it's so easy to laugh at yourself
and all those jokes have already been written seems like another vain attempt to let yourself fall out of the oven holy mountains they look so tired and it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside who you foolin' with the fools are right it's the same thing but it's almost as different hard to tell when it pacifies your mind leaves you stranded with a broken engine lazy desert looks so mangled let me drown in a convalescent bliss get up from your bed of rest been a long time since you've lived but the static in your mind leaves you hollow and unkind with a shock electric wave turns you on. you've been flunked out of the devils house delinquent hygienes are so abrasive some distortion that's never been known on the treadmill you've been runnin' forever holy mountains, they look so tired and it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside be gone |
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| 12. |
| 6:02 |
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looking back at some dead world that looks so new offices and fountains that they named for you dazzlements of accidents rejoice their doom hari-karis spinnin' round the golden looms girl you dream infections from a nauseous heart choice cut meats from derelict boulevards hear their lonesome whistle blow no direction to be known in a senile reverie a tearful gaze turns away emoting cold and grey scented eunuchs clothe our wretchedness looking back at some dead world that looks so new offices and fountains that they name for you so ungrateful to the who's and what's-his-face terrorist confections look so out of place looking back at some dead world... that looks so new... looking back at some dead world... that looks so new... looking back at some dead world... that looks so new... looking back at some dead world... that looks so new... looking back at some dead world... that looks so new... |
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| 13. |
| 4:06 |
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By the dried up stream We slit our throats and dreamed But when the building's burned Was there some concerned Mother laid in bed What was it she said? Gather all your worldly jewels And scatter them like fools Don't you make a fuss Days so perilous When day is done we'll ride Who cares what we find Another misspent night We thought we got it right The driver lost a wheel The ice turned into steel They shivered like refugees Way down on our knees By the dried up stream We slit our throats and dreamed But when the building's burned Was there some concerned Mother laid in bed What was it she said? |
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