18 Monkeys on a Dead Man's Chest, 2004New Orleans Fuzz.In the Big Easy all the bugs is crazy and they are monsters in the rain. The river is in the air and there's nothing else to breath - the river flows thru the air. (That's right!) The blood is in my veins, and the veins are in my head, and there's nothing left to find. No trails left to find! No trails left to find! No trails left to find! Happy Francis said to Billy Two Toes, "Live free or die!" Happy Francis said to Billy Two Toes, "Live free or die!" Live free or die... Where to turn I don't know, says Billy, for I am blind. And did somebody mention, or did anybody say, that I was not born to feel this way? Happy Francis said to Billy Two Toes, "Live free or die!" Happy Francis said to Billy Two Toes, "Live free or die!" Live free or die... In the Big Easy all the bugs is crazy and they are monsters in the rain... river is in the air, and there's nothing else to breath. Oh, the river flows thru the air. (That's right!) Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Numbers Man. I count 15 monkeys on a dead man's chest. Pour another drink and we'll discuss the rest. It never rains that it does not pour so I bought you a ring at the Itchy Store, I got 27 people workin on my soul, 17 miners diggin for my gold, 13 women hangin on my back - I got a little bit of soul - I call it rock n roll. I count em one and I count em all. I shoulda run but I could not crawl. 15 monkeys and an open door... Matchstick box's gotta hold my clothes I got 27 people workin on my soul, 17 miners diggin for my gold, 13 women hangin on my back - I got a little bit of soul - I call it rock n roll. I got 27 people workin on my soul, 17 miners diggin for my gold, 13 women hangin on my back - I got a little bit of soul - I call it rock n roll. I count 15 monkeys on a dead man's chest. Pour another drink and I'll discount the rest. it never rains that it does not pour so I bought you a ring at the Itchy Store! I count em one and I count em all. I shoulda run but I could not crawl. Find another man who will look like me and you can nail him to the top of a Fuzzy Tree ... rock n roll Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Little Sister. Little Sister. Little Sister. Little Sister, Brother Ray is on the phone calling from the desert. He says, The stars are falling from the sky out here, coming all apart. Little Sister, he says the Greyhound is leaving and he's gotta go. And there's lamplight halos in the orange grove. And there's a holy water mist rising in the evening. Little Sister. Little Sister, he says he's gone work a deal in heaven. Little Sister. Little Sister, he says he sees Soda Mountain in the moonlight. And he says, Yeah yeah yeah. He says he sees Soda Mountain in the moonlight. And he says, Yeah yeah yeah. yeah yeah yeah. yeah yeah yeah. And he says, I'm alright. Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Habeas Corpus. Mary Lou, my love, come down here. Watch the river flow. See which way the water goes. So, now, I know what to do. I know what must be done. But why is it every time I think about you that I must see a gun? Do you know why? And in the night will we build our new home? And in the night will we build our new home? And in the night will we build our new home? How in the dark will we build our new home? Mary Lou, come down to the river. Mary Lou, see your fate. Mary Lou, will you watch me drown or, honey, will you run before it's too late? Maybe I'll miss you. Maybe the day will be long. Maybe the darkness won't hide our wrong. And in the night will we build our new home? And in the night will we build our new home? And in the night will we build our new home? How in the dark will we build our new home? And when will they start to laugh, and how will their pity show? When does the confusion stop, and how soon do you think they will know? Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Brunswick Parking Lot. Deborah, you know me too well - you're a lucky girl that way! So many years have been kind to you. Didn't we swear that we'd meet again? Wasn't it supposed to be just about 12 years ago, that we'd agreed to gather that summer day at the Blue Hole? To see the way time had changed who we were? Surely we would know each other still! No one knows just how deep the Blue Hole goes. It's said to be a mystery that way. It's so deep it's like you're lookin thru a veil of indigo. Well, it's the surge of vertigo I fear, and that's no mystery Deborah, you know me too well - you're a lucky girl that way! You knew me when I was younger. You knew me when I was thin. You knew me when I was handsome, wasn't I, Deborah? Robert says they closed the Blue Hole some years ago. Maybe something at that trout farm next door went weird, you never know! I guess it's safe now to say that you'll never know. But it's funny that I never thought to ask him how. And now I'd like to know how you can close such a deep hole down, and forget about it... Deborah, you know me too well. You're a lucky, lucky girl that way. Deborah, you know me so well - you're a lucky girl that way! Deborah, you know me too well. Deborah, let's not meet again. Writer: Thomas. ©2000 Bug Music. Nebraska Alcohol Abuse. The neon bounced against the window, against the glass, and left a shadow. Where would a pink spider go? And how will it hide in this room? I don't know. I don't know. It occurs to me, funny how it seems, the longer that I stare... (Where would a pink spider go and where would it hide in this room?) Aint no wrecks like train wrecks. They don't make wrecks like that anymore. Honey, it's something to aim for. Honey, it's something to aim for. Honey... It sure is something to aim for. Maybe I will miss you... Well, I don't know. But there's a foggy day in Nebraska, with an open road, and there's a town called Lodgepole I think I know. I think I know where I will go. And a big truck shimmers, and shimmies, in the mirror, at the vanishing point. An open road, and a town called Lodgepole... In the last minute of the first hour that I met you, I knew this was gonna be no good... this was gonna chew me up... this was gonna spit me out. In the last minute of the first hour I knew. Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Sad Eyed Lowlands. Somebody says, I'd be lost without you. Somebody says, I'd be lost without you. I said, Who? I said, Who? Somebody says, Stars are coming all undone somewhere cuz of you. I said, Where? Somebody says, The day will drag forever on. I said, How? Somebody says, I will pray for the rain to come - it will hide my tears that punch like bullets from a gun. I said, What? I said, What? My days will drag forevermore without you. I said, How? My days will drag forevermore without you. I said, How? Somebody says, Stars are coming all undone somewhere cuz of you. Somebody says, Stars are coming all undone somewhere cuz of you. I said, Where? Somebody says, My heart will not be whole until then. Now somebody says, My heart will not be whole until then. I said, When? I said, When? Somebody says, I'd be lost without you. Somebody says, I'd be lost without you. I said, Why? I said, Why? Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Golden Surf. The entire day, like a golden surf, hurls itself against the black rocks of the dark of the night. It seems to me that there should be a plan for the dark, a plan that that involves speed, light, and you by my side, you, by my side. Must we stay here or can we go? I have a map I make inside my head I have a way, the way to go. A map only shows what you already must know. Where shall we go? Into the dark light! The neon, Moon, and the stars of a thousand headlights. The neon moon buzzing. Buzzing. A firefly mothman! A firefly mothman! Buzzing. It's time to go. it's time... Before the golden surf returns to wash it all away again, to wash it all away... again. It's time to go. It's time to go. Before the golden surf returns to wash the night away... A plan that involves speed, light, and you by my side Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. Prepare for the End. I want to go to Soda Mountain. I want to climb up Soda Mountain. I'd like to live up on Soda Mountain, bound up in light up on Soda Mountain. One day I'll be there on Soda Mountain. One day you'll see me from Soda Mountain. and I'll wave to you from Soda Mountain, and I'll wave to you. I'd like to live on Soda Mountain, bound up in light on Soda Mountain. I want to go to Soda Mountain. I want to climb up Soda Mountain. One day I'll be there on Soda Mountain, and I'll wave to you from Soda Mountain. and I'll wave to you. I'll build a life there on Soda Mountain. I'll take a wife from Soda Mountain, and I'd love her too on Soda Mountain, and I'd love her too. Some things are strange on Soda Mountain. I get paid to dream on Soda Mountain. So I dreamt bout you on Soda Mountain. So I dreamt bout you on Soda Mountain. People are strange on Soda Mountain. The stories change on Soda Mountain. Shall I tell one to you 'bout Soda Mountain? Shall I tell one to you? Well, they tell a story here up on Soda Mountain, concerning Mr Brady & his soot black companions - how they shovelled on the coal, how they set the whistle screamin. You should see the locomotive falling down the mountain. And we're making up the time with Soda Mountain time. I was making up for time spent on Soda Mountain. When they found me in the wreck with my hand upon the throttle, I was scalded by the steam and I died inside the rain. All you ladies take a warning from Soda Mountain. And be good unto your man lest he's lost unto that mountain. Then he'll wave to you from Soda Mountain. Then he'll wave to you... And I'll wave to you from Soda Mountain. And I'll wave to you... Writers: Thomas-Moliné-Diagram. ©2004 Bug Music. Lyrics by David Thomas. |