The Nice - The Immediate Collection [compilation] (2001) by The Nice (보컬) on maniadb.com

On a cloud by Saffron Land
The flower king of flies
And the children all in white
All together here tonight

Let the dance of love begin
Let the tempo made and sing
The song and song in time
To a gong and bells sublime

Flower king of flies
Flower king of flies

Flower king of flies
Flower king of flies

The sun (???) all day
And (???) as played
the king from own his flower
spread the words of love around

Flower king of flies, flower king of flies...

The cry of Eugene fills the air
His spirit can be found to wander
Rancid atmosphere with despair
His sense of urgency asks all

Harlequin, Columbine, Speakers three
Their spirits can be found to wander
The Cry of three plus two times nothing at all
Splits all times mine, a sunder

The cry of Margret with the golden hair
Looks down to Eugene and shoots the spell
The two in harmony, of voice and mind
Asks who, why, what, where once one of the kind

The Harlequin and the Columbine, Speakers three
Their spirits can be found to wander
The Cry of three plus two times nothing at all
Splits all times mine, a sunder

The voice of Eugene cuts through air
His gaze commands everyone to wander
The voice he speaks dispel all care
But Eugene is always there

Harlequin, Columbine, Speakers three
Their spirits can be found to wander
The Cry of three plus two times nothing at all
Splits all times mine, a sunder
Splits all times mine, a sunder
Splits all times mine, a sunder
Splits all times mine, a sunder

So I wonder why when the pie in the sky,
gets green at the edge, jumps a senile hedge
and asks questions.

So I asked my ma, and she said ask your pa.
And he said ask your ma, and wonders why his kids ask questions.
So you fill me up with the gooseberry bush, and tales of the stork,
and you tell me to hush when I ask questions.


(synthesized)
Daddy, where did I come from?
(spoken man)
Well son, you rather caught your old dad in a huff.
I suppose the birds and the bees they won’t do, no they won’t do.
Think of flowers, the flower carrying the seed, yeah that’s mommy.
Mommy the flower, and your daddy sort of fornicates the flower.
No, no, pollinates, fornicates, pollinates.
No son, you didn’t just grow in the garden.
No, daddy didn’t pick you.
No, you stayed with the flower.
And you sort of grow and grow and grow, and suddenly you’re you.
That won’t do son? No, uh, well, it’s the best I can do.
(spoken boy)
No, daddy the fertilization occurs when the male seeds reach the female egg.

You’re drunk you’re drunk
Your back teeth floating in a gallon of booze.
You can’t even walk with all the fuss of your shoes.
You get yourself into such a state.
You found drunken charge of a roller skate.
It’s no small wonder that you can’t even answer questions.

Little Arabella, she's always out of her head.
She lives in a daydream, she never understands what she said.
She carries a flower, long after everyone said it's dead.
And if you see her, you'll never believe, her head.

Little Arabella, she giggles away into bed.
A skirt around her ankles, smoke comin' out of her head.
She wakes in the morning, looks and there's nobody in her bed.
And if you meet her, you'll never believe, her head.

Talks in riddles, talks in rhymes.
She reads the stars and looks for signs.
She is a problem of the times.
I'm rather glad she isn't mine.

Little Arabella, she giggles away into bed.
A skirt around her ankles, smoke comin' out of her head.
She wakes in the morning, looks and there's nobody to be found.
And if you meet her, you're sure to be, her next ground.

Arabella, that's Arabella.
Arabella out of her head.
Arabella out of her head.
Arabella out of her head.
Arabella out of her head.
Have you ever met a bird, quite like little Arabella?
Course you have, she's sitting right next to you.

Explain to you,
The girl who tells me that she knows herself.
I say to you, (my girl,)
You don't know you, (my girl,)
Only really shallow people know themselves
It's true to say.

Everybody's playing happy Freud.
I say to you, (my girl,)
You don't know you, (my girl,)
Your Capricorn is showing,
And the edge is getting frayed, frayed.

Here's to all those people
Who know themselves; (They really know themselves.)
They look into a mirror and
They know themselves. (They really know themselves.)
I will build them
A mirror they can see themselves
As other people see them!

Here's to all those people
Who know themselves; (They really know themselves.)
They look into a mirror and
They know themselves. (They really know themselves.)
I will build them
A mirror they can see themselves
As other people see them!

Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba!

Everybody's playing happy Freud.
I say to you, (my girl,)
You don't know you, (my girl,)
Your Capricorn is showing,
And the edge is getting frayed.

Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba!

Everybody's playing happy Freud.
I say to you, (my girl,)
You don't know you, (my girl,)
Your Capricorn is showing,
And the edge is getting frayed.

Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba!
Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba! (Say to you!)

They ask me what grey thought has just clouded my eye
I told them that Azrael looked down on their decline
What grey thought, if any, crossed the landscape of your mind
I told them that Azrael looks down on you from behind

I told them what they asked, why I hold my breath
If Azrael on wings of death collects his pound of flesh
I told them what they asked, why I hold my breath
Azrael the angel brings only death

What can I say, she's walking away
from all we saw
What can I do, still loving you
It's all a dream

How can we hang on to a dream?
How can it really be the way it seems?

What can I do, she's still saying it's through
with how it was
What will I find, I still can't see why
she says what she does

How can we hang on to a dream?
How can it really be the way it seems?

What can I say, she's walking away
from all we saw
What can I do, she's still saying we're through
It's all a dream

How can we hang on to a dream?
How can it really be the way it seems?
How can we hang on to a dream?

She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black.

You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees.
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees.
But you will wind up peeking through her keyhole
Down upon your knees.

She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child,
The Law can't touch her at all.

She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks.
She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks.
She's a hypnotist collector,
You are a walking antique.

Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
For Halloween buy her a trumpet
And for Christmas, give her a drum.