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Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds


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Жанры Alternative Rock
Post-punk
Лейблы Mute Records
ANTI-
См. также Grinderman
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Nick Cave
Warren Ellis
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Martyn P. Casey
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Mick Harvey
James Johnston
Anita Lane
Kid Congo Powers
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Альбом Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds


Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! (03.03.2008)
03.03.2008
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. . .


[Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Back in that hole.]

Larry made his nest high up in the autumn branches
Built from nothing but high hopes and thin air
He collected up some baby blasted mothers who took their chances
And for a while they lived quite happily up there

He came from New York city man, but he couldn't take the pace
He thought it was like dog eat dog world
Then he went to San Francisco, spent a year in out space
With a sweet little San Fransiscan girl.

I can hear my mother wailing and a whole lot of scraping of chairs

I don't know what it is but there's definately something going on upstairs

[Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.]

(I want you to dig)

(I want you to dig)Meanwhile Larry made up names for the ladies
Like miss Boo and miss Quick
He stockpiled weapons and took potshots in the air
He feasted on their lovely bodies like a lunatic
And wrapped himself up in their soft yellow hair

I can hear chants and incantations and some guy is mentioning me in his prayers.
Well, I don't know what it is but there's definately something going on upstairs

[Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.]

(I want you to dig)

(I want you to dig)Well New York City man, San Francisco, LA, I don't know
But Larry grew increasingly neurotic and obscene
I mean he, he never asked to be raised from the tomb
I mean no one ever actually asked him to forsake his dreams
He ended up like so many of them do, back on the streets of New York City
In a soup queue, a dopefiend, a slave, then prison, then the madhouse, then the grave
Ah poor Larry

But what do we really know'f the dead And who actually cares?

Well, I don't know what it is but there's definiately something going on upstairs.[Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
(I want you to dig)[Back in that hole.Dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Laz'rus dig yourself]
[Back in that hole.]

. . .


Little Janie she wakes up from a dream
a gun like a jawbone down the waistb& of her jeans
mr Sandman can recite today's lesson in his sleep he says
(there oughta be a law against me going down on the street)
little Janie pipes up and she says
we're gonna have a real cool time tonite
down the back of Janie's jeans she had the jawbone of an ass
mr Sandman runs around the corner
trying to head her off at the pass
he sticks his head over the fence and yells
something way too fast
(it's today's lesson)
something about the corruption of the working class
little Janie wakes up on the floor and she says
we're gonna have a real cool time tonite
(Janie says we are all such a crush of want half-mad with loss we are
violated on our sleep and we weep and we toss and we turn and we burn we are
hypnotised we are cross-eyed we are pimped we are bitched
we are told
such monstrous lies

Janie wakes up and she says
we're gonna have a real cool time tonite
mr Sandman has a certain appetite for Janie in repose
he digs her pretty knees and that she is completely naked underneath all her clothes
he likes to congregate around the intersection of Janie's jeans

mr Sandman the inseminator
opens her up like a love-letter and enters her dreams
little Janie wakes up and she says
we're gonna have a real good time tonite!!

. . .


When I came up from out of the meat-locker
the city was gone
the sky was full of lights
the snow provides a silent cover
in moonland, under the stars
under the sn&, I followed this car
and I followed that car, through the sand
through the snow, I turn on the radio
I listen to the deejay, and it must feel nice
it must feel nice to know, that somebody needs you
and everything moves slow, under the stars
under the ash, through the sand
and the night drifts in, the snow provides a silent cover
and I'm not your favourite lover, I turn on the radio
and it must feel nice
o very very nice to know, that somebody needs you
and the chilly winds blow, under the snow
under the stars, the whispering deejay
on the radio, the whispering deejay
on the radio, I'm not your favourite lover
I'm not your favourite lover, and it must feel nice
to leave no trace (no trace at all)
but somebody needs you, and that somebody is me
under the stars, under the snow
(your eyes were closed
you were playing with the buttons on your coat
in the back of that car)
in moonland, under the stars
in moonland, and I followed that car

. . .


Sapped & stupid
I lie upon the stones and I swoons
the darling little dandeluons have done their thing
and changed from suns into moons
the dragons roam the shopping malls
I hear they're gonna eat our guts
if I had the strength I might pick up my sword
and make some attempt to resist
get ready to shield yoursef!
on the night of the lotus eaters
mmmm don't you love my baby
mmmm & don't you love by baby anymore
they gilded my scales/ they fish-bowled me
and they toured me round the old awariums
they come in their hordes to tap at the glass
the philistined and barbarians
I like floating here (it's nice)
they've hung seaweed round my hips
and I do the for the hungry ones
and the lames all throw me tups
get ready to shield yourself!
grab your sap&your heaters
get ready to shield yourself!
on the night of the lotus eaters
mmm don't you love my baby
mmm & don't you love my baby abymore
get ready to shield yourself!
from our catastrophic leaders
get ready to shield yourself!
grab your sape&your heaters
on the night of the lotus eaters
now hit the streets!
now HIT the streets!!

. . .


Albert he goes west/ he crossed
the vast indifferent deserts of Arizona

he had a psychotic episode on a duede ranch
that involved a bottle of ammonia

henry he went south and lost his way
deep in the weeping forest of le vulva

he grew so wan/ he grew so sick
he ended up in a bungalow/ sucking a revolver

the light upon your rainy streets
offers many reflections

and I won't be held responsible
for my actions

bobby he goes north/ then goes east
then over to new Hampshire
bobby is a cautious man/ he walked into
a Concord dive/ to drink a beer

do you wanna dance??
do you wanna move??

do you wanna dance??
do you wanna GROOVE??

the world is full of
endless abstractions

and I won't be held responsible
for my actions

me/ I ann't going anywhere
just sit and watch the sun come up/ I like it here!

I wathc the people go ticking past/ I go hey hey hey
you know I gotta say/ I like it here!!

. . .


What we once thought we had we didn't
and what we have now will never be that way again
so we call upond the author to explain!

pur myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets
we've shunned them from the greasy-grind
(the poor little things) they look so sand & old
as they mount up from behind
I ask them to desist and to refrain
the we call upon the author to explain!

(rosary clutched in his hand
he died with tubes up his nose
and a cabal of angels with fingher cymbals
chanted his name in code)
we shook our fists at the punishing rain
and we called upon the author to explain!

he said -- everything is messed up round here /everything is banal
and jejune / there is a planetary conspiracy / againsta the likes of you
and me / in this idiot
constituency of the moon -- (well, he knew exactly who to blame)
and we call upon the author to explain!

PROLIX! PROLIX! NOTHING A PAIR OF SCISSORS CAN'T FIX!

I go guruing down the street
young people gather round my feet
ask me things - but I don't know where to start
they ignite the powder-trail straight to my father's hear
and once agai I call upon the author to explain

whi is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing that mediocres my every though?
I feel like a cacuum cleaner! a complete sucker! (it's fucked up and he is a fucker)
but what an enorous and encyclopaedic brain!
I call upon the author to explain!

o rampant discrimination/ mass poverty/ third world debt/infectious
disease/ global inequality and deepening socio-economic divisions---
(it does in your brain)
we call upon the author to explain!
now hang on! my freind Doug is tappung on the window
(hey Doug, how you been??)
brings me a book on holocaust poetry
---complete with pictures---
then tells me to get ready for the rain
and we call upon the author to explain!

PROLIX! PROLIX! SOMETHING A PAIR OF SCISSORS CAN FIX!

Bukowski was a jerk! Berryman was best!
he wrote like wet papier mache/ went hte Hemming-way/ weirdly
on wings and with maximum pain
we call upon the author to explain!

down in my bolthole I see they've published
another volume of unreconstructed rubbish
"the waves, the waves were soldiers moving"
thank you! thank you! thank you! & again!

. . .


I'm so far away from you
Pacing up and down my room
Does Jesus only love a man who loses?
I turn on the radio
There's some cat on the saxophone
Laying down a litany of excuses
There's madhouse longing in my baby's eyes
She rubs the lamp between her thighs
And hopes the genie comes out singing
She lives in some forgotten song
And moves like she is zombie-strong
Breathes steady as the pendulum keeps swinging

You better hold on to yourself

Well, cities rust and fall to ruin
Factories close and cars go cruisin'
In around the borders of her vision
She says ooh
As Jesus makes the flowers grow
All around the scene of her collision

You know I would, yes, I would
I would hold on to yourself

In the middle of the night
I try my best to chase outside
The phantoms and the ghosts and fairy-girls
On 1001 nights like these
She mutters open sesame and Ali Baba and his forty thieves
Launch her off the face of the world

You know one day I'll come back and I'd hold on to yourself
To yourself, I'd hold on to yourself

Ooh baby, I'm a 1000 miles away
And I just don't know what to say
Cause Jesus only loves a man who bruises
But darling, we can clearly see
It's all life and fire and lunacy
And excuses and excuses and excuses

Well, you know if I could, I would
I'd lie right down and I'd hold on to yourself
Yeah, I would lie right down and I would hold on to yourself
One day I'll come back to you and I'd hold on to yourself
Yeah, I'm gonna come back, gonna lie down
And I would hold on to yourself
Yeah, to yourself

. . .


(lie down here & be my girl)
I'm trying to tread careful/ baby
your as brittle as the wishbone of a bird
(lie down here & be by girl)
we've been scribbled in the margins
of a story that is patently absurd
(lie down here & be my girl)
and let it all come down tonight
(and shine and shine)
and let it all come down
(be my girl/be my girl)
it's a metter of some urgency
o darling can't you see/ I can't hold back the tide
(lie down here & be my girl)
and stop your frantic little fingers trying to collect
the years that pour from the hole in my side
(lie down here & be my girl)
o don't worry baby/ this old snake
banging at your door has got a few skins left to shed
(lie down here & be my girl)
o you look so good/ you look so good
the rest is better left unsaid
(lie dwon here & be my girl)
let it all come down tonight
(and shine and we can shine)
let it all come down tonight (be my girl)
one day I'll buy a factory and I'll assemmble you
on a production line
(lie down here & be my gurl)
I'd build a million of you baby
and every single one of them will be mine
(lie down here & be my girl)
I will fill the house with your stack you up
in every room/ we'll have a real good time
(lie down here & be my girl)
but right now/ I'm sitting here
on my own/ going out of my mind
(lie down here & be my girl)
let it all come down tonight
(and shine and shine)
tonight tonight (be my gurl)
you look so good

. . .


I stepped out of the St.James Hotel
I'd left you behind curled up like a child
well, a change is gonna come
and as the door whispered shut
I walked on down the high-windowed hall

you lay sleeping on the unmade bed
the weatherman on the television
in the St.James Hotel said
that the rains are gonna come
and I stepped out on the streets/ all sparkling clean
with the early morning dew

maybe it was you or maybe it was me?
you came on like a punch in the heart
you lying there with the light on your hair
like a jesus of the moon
a jesus of the planets and the stars

well I kept thinking about what the weatherman said
and if the voices of the living can be heard by the dead
well the day is gonna come
when we find out and in some kinda way
I take a little comfort from that (now & then)

cause people often talk about being scared of change
but for me I'm more afraid of things staying the same
cause the game is never won
by standing in any one place for too long

maybe it was you/ or baybe it was me
but there was a chord in you/ I could not find to strike
you lying there with all the light in your hair
like a jesus of the planets & the stars

I see the many girls walking down the empty streets
and maybe once or twice one of them smiles at me
you can't blame anyone
for saying hello/ I say hey/ I say hello/ I say hello

will ti be me or will it be you?
one must stay and one must depart
you lying there in a St.James Hotel bed
like a Jesus of the moon
a Jesus of the planets & the stars

. . .


Hold that chrysalis in your palm
see it split and change
it won't do you any harm
it's just trying to rearrange
it was born to live a day
now it flies up from your hand
(it's beautiful)
it's the one they call
your ever-loving man

wolves have carried your babies away
o your kids drip from their teeth
the nights are long and the day
is bitter cold beyond belief
you spread yourself like a penitent
upon the mad vibrating sand
and through your teeth
arrange to meet
your midnight man

everybody's coming round to my place!
everynody's coming round to my place!
everybody's coming round!
o baby don't you see
everybody wants to be
your midnight man

don't disturb me as I sleep
treat me gentle when I wake
don't disturb me as I sleep
even though your body aches
even though your body aches
to serve at his command
between the wars
she still adores
her ever-loving man

close your eyes, sleep in him
dream of your lost sons and daughters
me, I'll raise up the dorsal fin
and glide up and down the waters
I'll glide up and down the waters
then I'll walk upon the land
and call em out
the ones who doubt
your midnight man

everybody's coming round to my place!
everybody's coming roung to my place!
everybody's coming round!
o darling don't you see
everybody wants to be
your midnight man

. . .


I walk into the corner of my room
see my friends in high places
I don't know which is which or who is whom
they've stolen each others faces
Janet is there with her hi-hatting hair
full of bedroom feathers
Janet is known to make dead men groan
in any king of weathers
I crawl over to her
I say - hey baby I say - Hey Janet
you are the one/ you are the sun
and I'm your dutiful planet-
but she ain't down with any of that
she's heard that shit before
I say - ah ha o yeah you're right
cause I see Betty X standing by the door
with more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
and it's getting strange in here
yeah it gets stranger every year
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

now Betty X is like Betty Y
minus that fatal chromosome
her hair is like the wine dark sea
on which sailors come home
I say -hey baby- I say -hey Betty X
(I lean close up to her throat)
-this light you are carrying is like a lamp
hanging from a distant boat
-it is my light- said Betty X
Betty X says -this light ain't yours!
and so much wind blew through her words
that I went rolling down the hall
for more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
and it's strange in here
yeah it gets stranger every year
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

I turn another corner/ I go down a corridor
and I see this guy
he must be about 100 foot tall
and he only has one eye
he asks me for my autograph
I write -nobody- and then
I wrap myself up in my woolly coat
and blind him with my pen
cause someone must of stuck something in my drink
everything was getting strange looking
1/2 the people had turned into squealing pigs
that the other 1/2 were cooking
-let me out of here!- I cried
and I went pushing past
and I saw miss Polly! singing with some girls
I cried, -strap me to the mast!-
for more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
it's getting strange in here
and it gets stranger every year
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

then a black girl with no clothes on
danced across the room
we charted the progress of the planets
around that boogie-woogie moon
I called her my nubian princess
I gave her some sweet-back bad-ass jive
I spent the next seven years between her legs
pining for my wife
but by and by it all went wrong
I felt all washed-up on the shore
she stared down at me from up in the storm
as I sobbed upon the floor
for more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
and don't it make you feel alone
and don't it make you wanna get right-on home
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

here comes Alina with two black eyes
she's given herself a transfusion
she's filled herself with panda blood
to avoid all the confusion
I said -the sun rises and falls with you-
and various things about love
but a rising violence in me
cut all my circuits off
Alina she starts screaming
her cheeks are full of psychotropic leaves
her extinction was nearly absolute
when she turned her back on me
for more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
and it's getting strange in here
and it's getting stranger every year
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

I bumped bang crash into Deanna
hanging pretty in the door frame
all the horrors that have befallen me
well Deannais to blame
every time I see you babe
you make me feel so all alone
and I wept my face into her dress
long after she'd gone home
with more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
and don't it make you feel alone
don't it make you wanna get right back home
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

don't it make you feel so sad
don't the blood rush to your feet
to think that everything you do today
tomorrow is obsolete
technology and women
and little children too
don't it make you feel blue
don't it make you fell blue
for more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere
don't it make you feel alone
don't it make you wanna get right back home
more news from nowhere
more news from nowhere

goodbye

. . .


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