Teenage Nightingales To Wax

Teenage nightingales to wax
Feel it coming in like a rushing wind
Feel it coming in like a heat blast baby
Teenage nightingales to wax

Burning like a love bomb baby
Slow slow slow slow slow like a Cadillac
No no no no no like a hanging cloud
Teenage nightingales to wax

Do Not Cross The Line

The train is black and red my dear
Take me sixteen stations west
I take my luggage down from the rack
And I push myself inside
Excuse me sir your foot is in my face
And my seat is occupied
Take me 1,000 miles down south
Where you leave me on the ice

No don’t you stop me
No don’t you stop me
No no no no do not cross the line

The train is black and red my dear
Take me sixteen stations east
I take my luggage down from the rack
And I push myself inside
Excuse me sir your foot is in my face
And my seat is occupied
Take me 1,000 miles up north
Where you leave me on the ice

No don’t you stop me
No don’t you stop me
No no no no do not cross the line

This is the train to you my dear
Take me sixteen stations north
I take my luggage down from the rack
And I push myself inside
See the lightning flashing by
And the rain is in the wheel
Take me 1,000 mile down south
And you ask me how I feel

No don’t you stop me
No don’t you stop me
No no no no do not cross the line
Do not cross the line

3 Junk

What a piece of junk
When he speaks his mind
What a pile of junk
And it’s moving baby analog

Pacific wind with her last breath
Is asking for a rest
But she’s all go

All the houses lean together
They’re blinkered from the morning sun
Earth movers at the edge of town
They’re looking down
Moving earth around

Firepits

All of the streets they have been cleaned up
By the men striped in fluorescent yellow
Then the cars they begin to roam the streets
Similarly striped in yellow
Like an eel through the concrete and steel
125 moves its breakfast around
Down at the firepit men warm their hands
They can see what they’re really up against

Oh the ball of power
Begins to throb and spin
You can see it getting into motion
Down at the firepits

Down at the firepits dusty shafts of gold
Men can see what they’re really up against
Like an eel through the concrete and steel
125 moves its breakfast around

No Place

This is from the soles of our shoes
Come life your glasses and drink a toast
To king Kreosote
We shave with glasses
On and off as the lightning flashes
In the twitch of levers and the vaults of factories
Gobbled up with iron, without iron,
Without communism

This is no place for you
Shut up here like a bear in a cage
It’s not for you
And the night had a thousand eyes
See them crying on your shoulder

You’ve got to get yourself right out of this place
And the night had a thousand eyes
See them heavy on your shoulder
117 days it’s not for you

For all those living under the flag of Saatchi and Saatchi – The monuments of Marble Archie
How dare you read of awards of St. Georgie?
From the newspaper columns your blinkeys oily
Hear the sten gun splutter
You’re a dog burning in the gutter
Closed your shutter
Touché, olé, balihai

Dr Freedom

Kennedy in Berlin June 1963
In German the proud phrase of the free world
“Ich been ein Boilinner”
Rhetorical use of the foreign tongue

Look at that boy he can’t speak in a straight line
Look’s like he’s got that old cold fish brain
He’s got cold fish brain
Getting green around the gills

Oh, Dr Freedom
Is this the colour of your money?
Free free dumb
Here we go
Ich been ein Boilinner
Ich been ein

Just like Harold Wilson
Adopted his working class for different circumstances

Look at that poor boy over there
He can’t speak in a straight line
Looking like he’s got that old cold fish brain
Looking Green, looking green

Oh, Dr Freedom

Missing

Well I couldn’t help smiling
As wide as a cityscape
Teeth like skyscrapers in a lake

All these things that I’m missing
Oh you’ve got them in spades
All these things that I’m lacking
Oh you more than make up for them

We’ve seen the stars burning
Fizzle, popping and dying
Horse power is a small thing
I wouldn’t bet on it surviving

Suddenly the sea is blond
And the sky pecks its cheek
Where the sun sticks out
And all the craziest inventions start to speak

Can you hear them?
See them sucking and spinning
There’s a message coming in

Start walking along the line
To the centre of town
Where the mayor in his nightgown

Is looking down

Sun Of Mud

Oh there’s a sun of mud
On the future is rising it’s rising
Not a stone throw from today

Oh cellmate what are you thinking
Rock and roll rock and roll
Ideological product

Oh the mob expects malnutrition
Robots are guarding that old ribcage fashion
Flamin’ torches, pick axe handles
Looking down the water cannon of pop music

Rock and roll is pop music
For the credit card hospital

Oh godfather I’m not joking
Can’t you see the son is choking?
Can’t you see that he’s been smoking?
Too much, too much

The Devil's Music

Woke up this morning feeling so bad
Got the worst hangover Dean Martins ever had
Say that I’m mad I’m madder than that
I am possessed
My head spins just to think of it

Don’t start me talking
I’ll tell you everything I know
Got to break up this signifying
Something’s got to go

One night I was laying down
I heard momma poppa talking
I heard poppa tell momma
It’s in him and we’ve gotta get it out

Let’s get this rent together
Let’s get this rent apart
Let’s get this apartment rentapart
Let’s hear the drum machine for a while

The ancient blues singers in their ancient hats
They were singing to their arcane gods
They were singing about their girlfriends
The doctor he got me, the doctor she got me
The blues came up the Mississippi It lives in my house now