Maidens in towers and knights on the town; shields up convinced that the
barricade's down. Fighting in bars... they were biting the cars
Two aches in the head, H20 in the wine. Two hits off the mirror to help you
unwind. You learned how to drink. You'll turn now to a shrink. And he'll
say that you are king of the castle. Your glory excels in here... Blood on
the bypass. You're passing the pills. They're painted and plastic, they
make you feel ill. They make you kick in the night. You're sick in the
A tramp chews a dog-end. A dog chews a tramp, Tears holes in his raincoat
and howls because it's damp. He chokes on a coin and we count up to nine.
Ah, but he's king in his castle. His glory excels in here. Pagans in showers
and kites on the Downs. Polka-dot patterns and strings turning brown. They
shut out the sun. Oh, wot jolly fun! But we're kings in our castles.
Louder After 6
A click says you're connected and a buzz says that you're heard. Fingers
slide across a panel. They're recording every word... Try to talk about the
weather. Don't say anything absurd 'Cause their tapping the phone again...
Invitations from the Kremlin... Interference on the line. Dial a friend to
find some comfort; stroke her nicely and she'll tell the time. And a voice
checks in the distance "Christ, it's nearly half past nine!" Tapping the
phone again - what a pain!
Give away a little secret and it ends up in the file numbered EK5320. In the
archives for a while. They're taking notes, flicking switches, feeding
programs, reading dials. They're tapping the phone again - nice!
And the bill lands on the doormat, calls to Moscow... calls to Mars.
You'd call the cavalry to save you, but you can't afford the charge. Cut
the wires! Axe the pylons! Such fun to sabotage. Attack your phone again.
Take a cleaver to your receiver. Attack your phone. Take the pliers to the
wires. Attack your phone. Attack attack attack attack attack
[ I digitized the last part of "LA6" and played it back at half-speed.
It seems the high-pitched stuff at the end is Edward's voice.
This is what I could figure out. Most of it fades in an out, with two
different conversations going on in the different channels.
These are not done perspective to each other (they don't match by time).]
-- st. andrew ]
LEFT CHANNEL RIGHT CHANNEL
...over my... ...oh, that's good, yes...
...very nervous... ...i feel very nervous, well...
...i want every big hole, y'know the red ones... the brick ones...
...it's all fall out... yeah, yeah, no, no, really?
...throw it out, okay?... well, she should have gone out...
three pence a pair! Three pence! I
...she well i ... i call my was talking with Mrs. Smith and she
sweetmeat because y'know, he said pop it in the car double by
reminds me of... Christmas!... Mrs. Fuller who's been
[around] our house the past two weeks.
...terrible... She's a whore!! [For the] bags!!!
We're having a conversation here, ...perhaps she should...
...crossed the line...
...look, do you mind? We're trying to
have a sensible conversation here.
Will you please get off the line?
Put the phone down! Right away! I
You asked for nothing. That's what I gave you - ash for ashes, dust for
dust. Your trust is touching, but misguided... Bride, I'll be yours for one
night. I wander. I wonder really what you saw in me -- I'm not your type at
all... And all the angels hold their breath as my eyes rest upon the pretty
girl who leads the choir. They cry out their disgust for me. They are crying
for my bride who smiles in white, does not suspect my next move in the game.
Again! "I'll honor you and cherish you." Again! "I'll share my worldly
goods" Again... 'til death, when we're parted. Only words don't mean a
thing... I think of ways to run. The sun paints patterns on the
stained-glass windows. Widows in their Sunday best reflect about when they
too were brides. They can't hide their feelings as they steal seconds from
an age they'll never see again. Again! "With this ring I pledge myself"...
Again! ("I do. I do. Shoo be doo doo wah...") Why do we have to be so humble
and mumble words we never mean? It's obscene, the ultimate obscenity...
this serenity on Sunday, we're stars on Sundays. Smiles on straight! Maybe
one day rewards will be there for us Just for us in heaven. Just for us
amen amen.... The end.
"And so it came to pass that a flag flew in every window and widows handed
poppies out in the square... And squares were bashed and majors barked and
marching music laughed from the airwaves. The waves were there to rule
again. We had the ambition. We had the ammunition... A mission in the name
of God... In the name of "democracy", demo-crazy.
Die down! Lie down! You forfeited your right to survive.
I clutched at your sleeve and we danced in the fire. Just a pair of spastic
swingers on a melting plastic floor... But you crumbled in my hands as I
fumbled in your blouse, slipping through my fingers to my feet. It felt
like mustard -- hot like custard.
And in the dust that was once an arm, a kra-zee wrote the 13th Psalm. The
final gesture.... He did it with calm precision, he dotted every eye. A
lullaby for lovers on the last day.
Paying last respects with cups of poison... Pointed passive at the blood
sky... Lying lifeless at their doors. Clawing craters in the shelters.
Helter-skelter in the lift shafts, blasting brains out in the dark. LIE
DOWN!! Lie down! "crime is crime is crime" [Thatcher's voice]
A dog defaced a baby; knawed a rattle, smashed a pram. He was yelping
wildly in a vacuum. No-one really gave a damn. They were thinking only of
themselves... Yes, they searched for a release. They hid in cupboards,
under tables; they cabled Jesus, called the police.
And the radio screams out, "We're winning!" And about how the loss was
minimal and how the gallant sacrifice will live on in memorials, and how
we'll respect again. We're no playground anymore. You cannot keep this
country down for long, because we win so many fucking wars.
[sample of crowd chanting "seig heil" and cheering]
[sample of church bell and a music box?]
The flat was empty. I wondered where you'd gone. But all the time the
answer was in front of me. You took your clothes, left a little note, but
all it offered was your sympathy. I should have seen those tell-tale signs.
It seems so obvious now. The way I felt about you, it's blinded me. Now all
those fights we had seem so childish now. Just wish I could turn the clock
back Any way... any how. All I've got is a a legacy of regrets. I'm forgetting how
to smile. I watch a lot of TV these days, living on borrowed time. Too many
tablets and too much wine. There's nothing left to dream about. I've got no
aspirations. I thought about a hobby but I've got no patience. Some fine
legacy you left me. Some fine legacy. You always hurt the one you love.
You always hurt the one you love. Some fine legacy.
There was a time, a time for secrets. We'd walk together in the forest,
hand in hand. We'd look uneasy, cold and pallid. Then we'd find some magic
mushrooms and we'd skip across the clouds.
We danced for the old gods, danced for the new gods, danced for the ones we
never heard about. Danced for the old days, danced for the new ways, Danced
for the phase no-one talks about.
Tonight I feel nostalgic, feeling happy. And the powder in my pocket's
crying ``Eat me! Eat me! Eat me!'' Could be my age, I could be going crazy.
'Cause I know you feel the same way, I can see it in your eyes.
I got my crown, I got my scepter. Letters on my buttons spell Napoleon.
I'll give you money, give you power, I'll give you a palace in the Amazon.
Do you think that they'll lock us away? Padded cells, packet-soup on
alternate days? Maybe we should behave in a normal way. Face facts, face the
A shadow rests, suggests no entry. A tramp complains, collapses weeping
gently. A figure smiles and shines a blade discretely. And the drains
ad-libbed a soundtrack as he picked his victim out.
He sang in the rain, he danced in the thunder, Bowed as we bellowed from
the balcony. Stepped on a hand, set fire to a handbag, Slipped as the
sparks skipped across his knees.
The song decayed in suits of amber. Coughing as they burned in glowing
embers. A priest held up his hands, said ``It's over.'' We nodded wisely,
scooped the ash and cast it to the wind.
We played in the neon, bade out the paeons, slobbering in tongues to the
subway gods. Just like the old days, rituals and red wine. Hair all
tangled and covered in blood. Do you think that they'll lock us away?
Twisted East South North with the wind that rippled his hair. Ice stare
constant, laughing - but the joy had gone. Snuffed out by the dawn, the
rope had torn his flesh and broke his neck and left him dancing on the air
in the Hanging Gardens.
Dancing with the dead -- so peaceful there.
Branded as a thief. They stole his name, they stole his face. Gone without
a trace... they killed his dignity and squeezed him dry. Cryies for mercy
lost on judges with no ears, no hearts, looking smart in their black caps in
the Hanging Gardens.
Love notes and carnations, fading, slowly dying... lying at his feet. Her
sweet aroma lingered on the air. She stood and stared. She was numb now.
She'd cried so much it had no meaning. So much salt and water flowing
freely through the hanging gardens.
Blow gently, blow gently...
Dressed in virgin's white, she masked her eyes with cold surprise. He
cursed her name, the pain was creeping swiftly... twisted her inside. She
retched and reached out for a hand. She landed on her face. Disgraced. No
place for fainting queens in the hanging gardens...
A place for me, a place for you....
[the second part of this song is essentially the lyrics to the first part
played backwards. as far as i can tell, there is no difference between the
Powdered Heaven dressed in plastic pulled the shades down on his eye.
Pinprick pupils soaring skywards Offer him no alibis. But then, who needs
them? He's quite perfect. Perfect body, perfect teeth that flash sublime
and blind the kids who Spread their legs for their belief. Who cross
themselves at the drop of a parable; Who scream they're saved when they've
touched his jeans Who swear his wisdom's just infallible and beg for mercy
-- in his dreams... Another day. another sermon. Broken bread, forgotten
lines. A line for comfort keeps him human. The needle trembles, band on
tight. Another little perforation ventilates him and paints him white. A
wordless song, a prayer to no-one but still he whistles through the night.
They found him on his throne of porcelain. A rusty chain draped 'round his
neck. Incapable. Incoherent. His eyes switched off but a king no less!
The jury all wore black chewed razors. Witnesses were D.O.A. O.D'd,
amoral, senses skewered. Dribbling lies and tooth decay. They declared his
guilt. The defence said nothing... sobbing as the judge turned blue and
washed his hands and said "Lord forgive us, for we know not what we do..."
"Drown in your soma bath!" They said, "Drown in your soma bath! What are
we gonna do with you? Let the punishment fit the crime! We have the
technology. We got the instruments. Down! Down in your soma bath..."
[sample: "ring around the rosie a pocket full of posies a tissue a tissue
we all fall down ring around the rosie a pocket full of posies a tissue a
tissue we all fall down..."]