Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - We Call Upon The Author lyrics
rate me<BR>
What we once thought we had we didn't, and what we have now will never be that way again<br>
So we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets, we've shunned them from the greasy-grind<br>
The poor little things, they look so sad and old as they mount us from behind<br>
I ask them to desist and to refrain<br>
And then we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Rosary clutched in his hand, he died with tubes up his nose<br>
And a cabal of angels with finger cymbals chanted his name in code<br>
We shook our fists at the punishing rain<br>
And we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
He said everything is messed up around here, everything is banal and jejune<br>
There is a planetary conspiracy against the likes of you and me in this idiot constituency of the moon<br>
Well, he knew exactly who to blame<br>
And we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix!<br>
Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix!<br>
<br>
Well, I go guruing down the street, young people gather round my feet<br>
Ask me things, but I don'r know where to start<br>
They ignite the power-trail ssstraight to my father's heart<br>
And once again I call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
We call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing that mediocres my every thought?<br>
I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker, it's fucked up and he is a fucker<br>
But what an enormous and encyclopaedic brain<br>
I call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Oh rampant discrimination, mass poverty, third world debt, infectious diseease<br>
Global inequality and deepening socio-economic divisions<br>
Well, it does in your brain<br>
And we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Now hang on, my friend Doug is tapping on the window (Hey Doug, how you been?)<br>
Brings me back a book on holocaust poetry complete with pictures<br>
Then tells me to get ready for the rain<br>
And we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
I say prolix! Prolix! Something a pair of scissors can fix<br>
<br>
Bukowski was a jerk! Berryman was best!<br>
He wrote like wet papier mache, went the Heming-way weirdly on wings and with maximum pain<br>
We call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Down in my bolthole I see they've published another volume of unreconstructed rubbish<br>
"The waves, the waves were soldiers moving". Well, thank you, thank you, thank you<br>
And again I call upon the author to explain<br>
Yeah, we call upon the author to explain<br>
<br>
Prolix! Prolix! There's nothing a pair of scissors can't fix!<br>
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<i>[Thanks to Chris Seeney (chrisseeney@hotmail.com) for these lyrics]</i><br>
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