Music World
 
Исполнители:
 
 
 
English versionSwitch to English 
Soundgarden
Soundgarden


Информация
Откуда Seattle, Washington, United States
Жанры Alternative Rock
Grunge
Alternative Metal
Heavy Metal
Годы 1984—1997
Лейблы A&M Records
Sub Pop
SST Records
См. также Pearl Jam
Audioslave
Temple of the Dog
Wellwater Conspiracy
Hater
Сайт Website
Состав
Chris Cornell
Matt Cameron
Kim Thayil
Ben Shepherd
Бывшие участники
Jason Everman
Hiro Yamamoto
Scott Sundquist



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  S  →  Soundgarden  →  Дискография  →  Ultramega OK

Альбом Soundgarden


Ultramega OK (31.10.1988)
31.10.1988
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
One Minute of Silence (instrumental)
. . .



Along her vain parade
Along her veins

All of seventeen
Eyes a purple green
Treated like a queen
She was on borrowed self-esteem

She would do her dance
A painful masquerade
Spinning you into her web
Along her vain parade

In her uniform
Studded brass and steel
Kissing napkin lipstick stains
And smearing sincerity

Along her vain parade
Along her veins

Time crept up on her
She's early gray
Her reflection looks concerned
And flowers hit her grave



. . .



All your fears are lies
All your fears are lies
All your fears are lies
All your fears are lies

See through your
Tripless, falling, limping, crawling,
Biting, fighting, back from dying
Endless ending, comprehending
Nothing of the sin she's sinning

Loosely buying your cheating, your lying
Will make it mine
While never crying
Corralled like a cat
With my head in a sack
And I feel like I'm tied to a railroad track


. . .



It's creeping
In so slow
Trapping it, nobody's home

(more mumbling)

It's creeping in
So slow
Trapping it, nobody's home

[Played backwards, the Santa/Satan parody:
Santa, I love you baby
My Christmas king
Santa, you're my king
I love you, Santa baby
Got what I need
etc.]



. . .



Far beyond the road
Between your house and home
There is a churning storm
Of hailing burning bones

Tiny baby cries
Little, tiny pawn
In the profit gain
Tiny baby grows

Mother, who's your man
Is he doing what he can
To make a proper home, home
By overturning other stones, stones
Father, mighty man
Loves his little boys, boys
Shows them how to kill
To save his precious stones, stones

Far beyond the wheel
It steers your life around
We're driving flesh and blood
Deep into the ground, ground

Far beyond the wheel
It steers your life around
We're driving flesh and blood
Deep into the ground, ground



. . .



Kill them all
Steal their gold
Feed my boy's killer
Feed the young, prepare it save you
Feed the boy, hates to kill
Feed the young
Feed the young

Cool



. . .



My mood was in full swing
My mood was in full swing
I wanted to be free
Free to want so stale
I did not want to hear
The perfect thing to say
Dying to squeeze out
The ugly truth for everyone to hear

Admit
You believed
Your perfect pool of lies
And now
If you could say it
Everything would be all right

I did not wanna fight
I did not wanna kill
I wanted to be real
I wanted to believe
That I was not the only one alive



. . .



The day will finally come in _____
Cause we have conquered a kingdom
And a place of rage
Covered with assholes

Well here we live
To see their fear and their trembling words
Of a _____
A pretty(?), pretty(?) blank name on the list
An "x" for every accomplished deed.

Ol' big bad ass circle of power's comin' to getcha!

(lots of screaming, mumbling)

(spoken)
Not necessarily dumb, but just uh...beautiful...beautiful...
(/spoken)

Well it's the circle of power
And it's all
It's all the same
Ah the circle, spinning the circle of power
And it's under different names

Oh the circle of power
It's all the same
The circle of power



. . .



He did nothing perfectly
He did nothing quite well
He did nothing perfectly, much better than anyone I've ever seen
He did nothing all the time
He did nothing constantly
He did nothing everyday, more often than anyone I've ever seen

He failed, and he failed miserably
He failed, and he failed quite bad
He failed, and he failed miserably
What's better he never even had to try



. . .



Smokestack lightning
Shine a light home
Smokestack lightning
Shining like gold
Treats me like a clown
Wheels go driving slow
Trucks me out of town
Wheels go driving slow
Tell me baby
So when you coming home
Tell me baby
When you coming home
Wheels go driving slow
Wheels go driving slow
Wheels go driving slow



. . .



I don't care if it takes some time
I'm gonna make it right
I'm gonna make it right

Turn the head 360 degrees
Bite the hand that feeds
I don't care if it tastes like poison
Rip the legs from the thighs
Feed the prison, save the eyes
I don't care if it tastes like poison
I'm gonna feed the prison, feed the prison

Color in with lakes of red
Pile of bones for my bed
I'm gonna take some time
I'm gonna take some time
Hang your sides
To cure it right
Feed the prison, save the eyes

Not a tear will be shed
The only color is red... red
I don't care if it takes some time
I'm gonna make it right
I'm gonna make it right
Turn the head 360 degrees
Bite the hand that feeds
I don't care if it tastes like poison
Rip the legs from the thighs
Feed the prison, save the eyes

Not a tear will be shed
The only color is red
I don't care if it tastes like poison
I'm gonna feed the prison
I'm gonna feed the prison
I'm gonna feed



. . .



Head injury, head injury, head injury

You got a kiss for me, it hits me hard
You got a fist for me, you love so hard
My hands on my head, your words are like arrows
My hands on my head, there's permanent damage

Head injury, head injury, head injury

You got a kiss for me, it's sweet and frail
You got a fist for me, sure to impale
My hand on my head, your words are like arrows
My hand on my head, my mind growing narrow
Head injury



. . .



So he's afraid he'll suffer his father's fate
Two sets of silverware, cups and plates
Two burning hands and bleeding hearts
Don't feel it's not too late to start

Only the photographs on your wall
Are chained and down your hall
Reminding you of all the days
When you collected hell to pay
Well hell to pay
I said it's not too late
Not it's not too late
Incessant mace
Oh God I can see it, you know it's incessant mace

Magazine stacks and broken backs
Are what you get for piling stacks
Beneath your treasure chest
You wonder why you're under stress
No it's not too late
Incessant mace
Oh God I can see it, you know it's incessant mace


. . .

One Minute of Silence

[Нет текста]

. . .


Смотри также:

комментарии публикуются при поддержке Disqus



© 2011 Music World. Все права сохранены.