Girl of sixteen
Whole life ahead of her
Slashed her wrists
Bored with life
Didn't succeed
Thank the Lord
For small mercies
Fighting back the tears
Mother reads the note again
Sixteen candles burn in her mind
She takes the blame
It's always the same
She goes down on her knees and prays
I don't want to start
Any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God's
Got a sick sense of humor
And when I die
I expect to find Him laughing
Girl of eighteen
Fell in love with everything
Found new life
In Jesus Christ
Hit by a car
Ended up
On a life support machine
Summer's day
As she passed away
Birds were singing
In the summer sky
Then came the rain
And once again
A tear fell
From her mother's eye
I don't want to start
Any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God's
Got a sick sense of humor
And when I die
I expect to find Him laughing
The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
The city fathers they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
But the town has no need to be nervous.
The ghost of Belle Star she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber of commerce.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone blues.
The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
Says, "My advice is to not let the boys in".
Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and he says to be bride
"Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die, it's not poison".
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' the fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone blues.
Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me to get sick in ?"
The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone blues.
The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
Then sends them out to the jungle.
Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he bums out their camps
With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic collection of stamps
To win friends and influence his uncle.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for fuse
I'm in trouble
With the tombstone blues.
The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter.
Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone blues.
Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
Tuba players now rehearsal around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps or the soul
To the old folks home in the college.
Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
That could hold you dear lady from going insane
That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
Of your useless and pointless knowledge
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone blues.
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
This is the place where we used to live
I paid for it with love and blood
And these are the boxes that she kept on the shelf
Filled with her poetry and stuff
And this is the room where she took the razor
And cut her wrists that strange and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
I never would have started if Id known
That its end this way
But funny thing, Im not at all sad
That it stopped this way
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
This is the place where we used to live
I paid for it with love and blood
And these are the boxes that she kept on the shelf
Filled with her poetry and stuff
And this is the room where she took the razor
And cut her wrists that strange and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
I never would have started if Id known
That its end this way
But funny thing, Im not at all sad
That it stopped this way
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
Well I stepped into an avalanche,
It covered up my soul;
When I am not this hunchback that you see,
I sleep beneath the golden hill.
You who wish to conquer pain,
You must learn, learn to serve me well.
You strike my side by accident
As you go down for your gold.
The cripple here that you clothe and feed
Is neither starved nor cold;
He does not ask for your company,
Not at the centre, the centre of the world.
When I am on a pedestal,
You did not raise me there.
Your laws do not compel me
To kneel grotesque and bare.
I myself am the pedestal
For this ugly hump at which you stare.
You who wish to conquer pain,
You must learn what makes me kind;
The crumbs of love that you offer me,
Theyre the crumbs Ive left behind.
Your pain is no credential here,
Its just the shadow, shadow of my wound.
I have begun to long for you,
I who have no greed;
I have begun to ask for you,
I who have no need.
You say youve gone away from me,
But I can feel you when you breathe.
Do not dress in those rags for me,
I know you are not poor;
You dont love me quite so fiercely now
When you know that you are not sure,
It is your turn, beloved,
It is your flesh that I wear.
I walk into the corner of my room, see my friends in high places
I don't know which is which and whom is whom, they've stolen each other's faces
Janet is there with her high-hatting hair full of bedroom feathers
Janet is known to make dead men groan in any kind of weathers
I crawl over to her, I say hey baby, I say hey Janet
You are the one, you are the sun and I'm your dutyfull planet
But she ain't down with any of that, she's heard that shit before
I say ah ha, oh yeah, you're right, cause I see Betty X standing by the door
With more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And it's getting strange in here
Yeah, it gets stranger every year
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
Now, Betty X is like Betty Y minus that fatal chromosome
Her hair is like the wine dark sea, on which sailors come home
I say hey baby, I say hey Betty X (I lean close up to her throat)
This light you're carrying is like a lamp, hanging from a distant boat
It is my light, said Betty X, Betty X says this light ain't yours
And so much wind blew through her words that I went rolling down the hall
For more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And it's getting strange in here
Yeah, it gets stranger every year
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
I turn another corner, I go down a corridor and I see this guy
He must be about 100 foot tall and he only has one eye
He asks me for my autograph, I write nobody and then
I wrap myself up in my woolly coat and blind him with my pen
Cause someone must have put something in my drink, everything getting strange looking
Half the people had turned into squealing pigs, the other half were cooking
Let me out of here, I cried, and I went pushing past
And I saw miss Polly singing with some girls, I cried strap me to the mast
For more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And it's getting strange in here
Yeah, it gets stranger every year
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
Then a black girl with no clothes on danced across the room
We charted the progress of the planets around that boogie-wongie moon
I called her my nubian princess, I gave her some sweet-back bad-ass jive
I spent the next seven years between her legs pining for my wife
But by and by it all went wrong, I felt all washed-up on the shore
She stared down at me from up in the storm as I sobbed upon the floor
For more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And don't it make you feel alone
Don't it make you wanna get right-on home
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
Here comes Alina with two black eyes, she's given herself a transfusion
She's filled herself with panda blood to avoid all the confusion
I said the sun rises and falls with you, and various things about love
But a rising violence in me cut all my circuits off
Well, Alina, she starts screaming, her cheeks are full of psychotropic leaves
Her extinction was nearly absolute when she turned her back on me
For more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And it's getting strange in here
Yeah, it gets stranger every year
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
I bumped bang crash into Deanna hanging pretty in the door frame
Alle the horrors which have befallen me, well, Deanna is to blame
Every time I see you, babe, you make me feel so all alone
And I wept my face into her dress long after she'd gone home
With more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And don't it make you feel alone
Don't it make you wanna get right back home
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
Don't it make you feel so sad, don't the blood rush to your feet
To think that everything you do today, tomorrow is obsolete?
Technology and women and little children too
Don't it make you feel blue? Don't it make you feel blue?
For more news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
And don't it make you feel alone
Don't it make you wanna get right back home
More news from nowhere
More news from nowhere
Viele Black Metal Bands haben extrem Monumentalische Texte/moment bezogene Texte die ich einfach grandios finde wie
z.B. von Zemial "Nocturnal Witch"
An old castle of torment shines under the Moon,
A crystallized silence casts a shadow over the moors:
Unseen, mouldy, catacombs, summoned to breathe again;
The Witch of Lust eerily commands: "This Night will never end!"
She weaves,
The Spell,
Of Death!
The Mistress of the Night!
Unknowing virgin peasant girl is bled by the hands of Death,
The Witch possessed by Satan, drinks the wine and the victim's last breath.
Piercing screams of agony fill cold dungeons of old
The numbness of her body means the Reaper's touch is cold!
Nocturnal Witch
The Mistress of the Night!
Sick winds blow in these lands...
(Prepare for Death)
oder von Desaster " Nekropolis Karthago"...einer der Songs der immer was bei mir bewegt.
The ancient walls of Karthago
Punic power in the Mediterranean
Devotion to the archaic gods
The city in state of siege
Mass sacrifice to appease the gods
Unborn ones were pledged to die
No sun will shine in my day today; (no sun will shine)
The high yellow moon wont come out to play:
(that high yellow moon wont come out to play)
I said (darkness) darkness has covered my light,
(and the stage) and the stage my day into night, yeah.
Where is the love to be found? (oo-ooh-ooh)
Wont someone tell me?
cause my (sweet life) life must be somewhere to be found -
(must be somewhere for me)
Instead of concrete jungle (la la-la!),
Where the living is harder (la-la!).
Concrete jungle (la la-la!):
Man you got to do your (la la-la!) best. wo-ooh, yeah.
No chains around my feet,
But Im not free, oh-ooh!
I know I am bound here in captivity;
Gyeah, now - (never, never) Ive never known happiness;
(never, never) Ive never known what sweet caress is -
Still, Ill be always laughing like a clown;
Wont someone help me? cause I (sweet life) -
Ive got to pick myself from off the ground
(must be somewhere for me), he-yeah! -
In this a concrete jungle (la la-la!):
I said, what do you cry for me (la-la!) now, o-oh!
Concrete jungle (la la-la!), ah, wont you let me be (la la-la!), now.
Hey! oh, now!
---
/guitar solo/
---
I said that life (sweet life) - it must be somewhere to be found
(must be somewhere for me)
Oh, instead: concrete jungle (la-la!) - collusion (la-la!) -
Confusion (confusion). eh!
Concrete jungle (la-la!): baby, youve got it in.
Concrete jungle (la la-la!), now. eh!
Concrete jungle (la la-la!).
What do you stand(? ) for me (la-la!), now? /fadeout/
Well, I stand up next to a mountain
And I chop it down with the edge of my hand
Yeah
Well, I stand up next to a mountain
And I chop it down with the edge of my hand
Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island
Might even raise a little sand
Yeah
cause Im a voodoo child
Lord knows Im a voodoo child baby
I want to say one more last thing
I didnt mean to take up all your sweet time
Ill give it right back to ya one of these days
Hahaha
I said I didnt mean to take up all your sweet time
Ill give it right back one of these days
Oh yeah
If I dont meet you no more in this world then uh
Ill meet ya on the next one
And dont be late
Dont be late
cause Im a voodoo child voodoo child
Lord knows Im a voodoo child
Hey hey hey
Im a voodoo child baby
I dont take no for an answer
Question no
Yeah
Männer/Ladies!!!!!!!!!!!Was für eine "BOMBE"...Immer wieder...
PS: Wer sich das nicht ganz anschaut is selber-"schuld"....
Du riechst den Braten schon seit Wochen
Jetzt gibt’s du Gas und rüstest auf,
dann kommt er ganz bestimmt zu dir zurück gekrochen
O Mann, wer ist sie bloß, mmm oh du kommst nicht drauf
Wie konnt´ er dich nur so verletzen
Kaum bist du 30 schon ist Schicht
Wegen irgend so ´nem Kind mit tierisch großen Möpsen
Nee da täuscht du dich, o weil - Schuld bin ich.
Du brauchst kein Make Up, keinen Salat,
keine Diät, kein Implantat,
färb dir die Haare nicht zu blond,
das ist die völlig falsche Front.
Du brauchst kein Straps kein Wonderbra,
aal dich nicht rum wie´n Pornostar,
schau ihn nicht so unterwürfig an,
weil er darauf nicht kann.
Ich bin hier um die Katze aus dem Sack zu lassen,
er hat Dich wegen einer Älteren verlassen.
Er war es leid, mit dir mitzuhalten.
Auf Fast Food, Kino, Disco und dann mit dir ins Bett
Nee er wollt´ sich so gerne mal über was andres unterhalten
Als übers Shoppen, Soaps und Körperfett.
Du brauchst kein Make Up, keinen Salat,
keine Diät, kein Implantat
färb dir die Haare nicht zu blond,
das ist die völlig falsche Front.
Du brauchst kein Straps kein Wonderbra,
aal dich nicht rum wie´n Pornostar,
schau ihn nicht so unterwürfig an,
weil er darauf nicht kann.
Ich bin hier um die Katze aus dem Sack zu lassen,
er hat Dich wegen einer Älteren verlassen.
Ich bin hier um die Katze aus dem Sack zu lassen,
er hat Dich wegen einer Älteren verlassen.
Oh …. Das tut mir aber leid…
(Ina Müller) _________________ the princess effect
Dylan-Sad-Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands
With your mercury mouth in the missionary times,
And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes,
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes,
Oh, who among them do they think could bury you?
With your pockets well protected at last,
And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass,
And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass,
Who among them do they think could carry you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace,
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,
And your basement clothes and your hollow face,
Who among them can think he could outguess you?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims,
And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,
Who among them would try to impress you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss,
And you wouldn't know it would happen like this,
But who among them really wants just to kiss you?
With your childhood flames on your midnight rug,
And your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs,
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs,
Who among them do you think could resist you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
Oh, the farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide
To show you the dead angels that they used to hide.
But why did they pick you to sympathize with their side?
Oh, how could they ever mistake you?
They wished you'd accepted the blame for the farm,
But with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm,
And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms,
How could they ever, ever persuade you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row,
And your magazine-husband who one day just had to go,
And your gentleness now, which you just can't help but show,
Who among them do you think would employ you?
Now you stand with your thief, you're on his parole
With your holy medallion which your fingertips fold,
And your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul,
Oh, who among them do you think could destroy you
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
Farewell Angelina
The bells of the crown
Are being stolen by bandits
I must follow the sound
The triangle tingles
And the trumpet play slow
Farewell Angelina
The sky is on fire
And I must go.
There's no need for anger
There's no need for blame
There's nothing to prove
Ev'rything's still the same
Just a table standing empty
By the edge of the sea
Farewell Angelina
The sky is trembling
And I must leave.
The jacks and queens
Have forsaked the courtyard
Fifty-two gypsies
Now file past the guards
In the space where the deuce
And the ace once ran wild
Farewell Angelina
The sky is folding
I'll see you in a while.
See the cross-eyed pirates sitting
Perched in the sun
Shooting tin cans
With a sawed-off shotgun
And the neighbors they clap
And they cheer with each blast
Farewell Angelina
The sky's changing color
And I must leave fast.
King Kong, little elves
On the rooftoops they dance
Valentino-type tangos
While the make-up man's hands
Shut the eyes of the dead
Not to embarrass anyone
Farewell Angelina
The sky is embarrassed
And I must be gone.
The machine guns are roaring
The puppets heave rocks
The fiends nail time bombs
To the hands of the clocks
Call me any name you like
I will never deny it
Farewell Angelina
The sky is erupting
I must go where it's quiet.
Die fünfte Knospe muß gedeien
Alienhonig der gleißenden Gier
götzendienlichen Labsals luftschürfend zu entfiltern
Die fünfte Knospe muß gedeien
Alienhonig gegen das saure Salz der Tränen
und den bitteren Zucker der Lust zu schaben
Die fünfte Knospe muß gedeien
Alienhonig der geschlürften Auster flüssiger Perle
mit bleckendem Finger traumsicher zu entlocken
Alienhonig
Die Quelle kann nicht am Gipfelpunkt der Sucht versiegen
denn glasklar zäh lockende Alraunkonfitüre
vermag sich von Lichtjahren her einzig dem Stumpfsinn zu entzeihen
Gott!... ist ein flüssiges Nektargas
ist ein flüssiges...Nektargas
Gott ist ein flüssiges...Nektargas
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