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Cass McCombs




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Альбом Cass McCombs



2003
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Bedding Down Post Xmas Time
11.
. . .


I dare not cough
Nor breathe deep
There's been a pain in my chest for nearly a week
I want to be famous for falling in love
I went to the hopital
They put me in a bed
Because I always do
What my mother says
Why should I lie
About results of a test?
I may soon be gone
To pluck on a harp
Like those colored pencil portraits of dogs
We saw on a blue tarp
But I spotted a damsel if memory serves
I went to the hospital
They put me in a bed
I always do what my mother says
Why should I lie abou results of a test?
So_.
Who is your provider?
Uh_.
Where'd you get that bread?
Is it dying that terrified you?
Or Just being dead?
We are living in an era of kings
I went to the hospital
They put me in a bed
I always do what my mother says
Why should I lie about results of a test.

. . .


You ain't gonna pin it on me
I don't wanna hear your sermon
Can shave in three stokes
An spit like hypodermic
Can dance like the dickens
Ain't a man alive I fear
You would not dare insult me
If Brother Jack was here
Where'd you learn to smoke?
Cause you're doing it all wrong
The next plane to Honolulu
Is what I'll be on
God bless Father Flanagan
The movies is bologna
Newspaper/Magazine
Cigarette/Candy
You say you're 14
You certainly don't look it
The straight world is ANTHING BUT
In fact, it's rather crooked
I'm getting out of Omaha
An that's for sure
Cause the people bark about me
Like I reversed the sin on murder
Bobby, King of Boys Town

. . .


O Beautiful Day!
There's mosquitoes about!
If they're not sucking
They're spitting my blood out
Follow the virus
It's a bird in it's nest
It's just doing what it does best
What Isn't Nature
What Isn't Nature
Love is
Vengeance is
The overdosed hippie girl
in the port-o-potty is
Sure, there is plenty
of ugly things around
But that does not mean
There is no common ground
What isn't Nature
What Isn't Nature
There is a nature to all things
There's nothing wrong with love
Have some humility

. . .


Yes. AIDS in Africa
And cancer back home
The Season of Giving is nigh
A war is on, Lady
Lady, a war is on
AIDS in Africa
Old-language whisper by the bonny banks
Survivor cells are chanting ALI BUMAYAY
Ave Maria, Lady
Lady, Ave Maria
AIDS in Africa
Here Ye Here Ye Happy Valley Citizen
Shake It Shake It Now Scream
Hallelujah, Lady
Lady, Hallelujah
AIDS in Africa

. . .


I spend my days. shaking hands
Forgetting names. recycling cans: a comedian
There's trouble in our nation's capitol
My blues are black, my belly's full
A comedian is someone who tells jokes
It's lunchtime fix a pal a drink
It's nap-time paint the casket pink
Gut thee from me all half-wit-dim-wit souls
Happy Hanukkah. Ho-ho-ho
A comedian is someone who tells jokes
A comedian is someone who tells jokes
It's lunchtime fix a pal a drink
It's nap-time paint the casket pink
I wrote a check to save a whale
And like I said it's in the mail
A comedian is someone who tells jokes

. . .


Two dutch uncles, to say the least
A treed coon and winged beast
I gasped, I clasped
But I passed the stone
Gee, it's good to be back home
Friends chipped in for a tin canteen
Just in time for Halloween
Don't eat, don't sleep
Or drink the foam
Gee, it's good to be back home
The lights of some far-off refinery
An Eldridge Cleaver forgery
Upstairs who cares your hair has grown
Gosh, it's good to be back home

. . .


The empty tank is US
Expired milk is US
This is a test of truss
Better meet me here at dawn
Hop the wooden fence
Run past the sleeping hens
If you had any sense
You'd meet me here at dawn
Find the memory erase it from your mind
just give it up
Our friends and family will all get left befind
Just give them up
I'm gone as light is shot
Where you come or not
I think you know you ought
To meet me here at dawn
Find the memory confront it like a crime
Beat it up
Your clothes and precious things will all get left behind
Give them up
Forge the painful past
Let go of all you grasp
This is the last I'll ask
To meet me here at dawn

. . .


Cast out of Eden/tricked by a snake
Brother killing brother/the mighty flood's wake
Glad I was not among
Those kept off that boat
Boy, they was much badder times
When the Bible was wrote
Then come slavery/then come curse
then come death-cloud/for the first birth
Glad I was not living
I don't mean to gloat
But Boy! they was much badder times
When the Bible was wrote
Deceived with a kiss/Peter denies
The crowd calls to Pilate/thorns cover hist eyes
Jesus is crucified
And I do quote
Boy they was much badder times
When the bible was wrote

. . .


Worried man. worried woman. worried child. worried dog
Afghanistan was the last hurrah
I remember it clearly: it was Ramadan
There were fat men everywhere
Fat man on a bike. fat man on on a lawn chair
My Pilgrim Dear. I won't interfere with you
What a wicked thing to do!
I was having a drink from the salty water fountain
The ceremony had already begun
When I turn ten Pop says he'll buy me a gun
And lalalalalalalalalalalalalala
Was all you could say
I dream of pianos. big ones
My Pilgrim Dear. I won't interfere with you
What a wicked thing to do!

. . .

Bedding Down Post Xmas Time

[Нет текста]

. . .


I heard my master spoke with your master
I wonder what for?
Was it in commerce?
Very odd. isn't it?
Very odd indeed
Did you happen to see if my master
Had a happy or angry look on his face?
Oh. you didn't
Silvy told me my master came calling
First thing after breakfast
And they were both wearing common coats
And they greeted eachother with friendship
And quickly went to your master's office
And they been in that office all day
Can you imagine?
I sure can
You just got to wonder what they're talking about
I got enough worries and now this!
Silvy seemed worried, too
Aren't you?
What does this mean?
I suppose we'll find out soon enough
Lord have mercy

. . .


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