Pennsylvania, 1998Woolie Bullie.There's a diner out on Route 322 in western Pennsylvania. I spent my life there one afternoon. I can't get that stretch of road out of my head. I hear it when I'm taking a shower or reading the paper. I'd look up & see it across the valley. They tore down the Starlighter down at the end of the road, and built a big Day's Inn that blocks the view, but I know that road's still there. I can feel it wherever I go, whatever I'm doing. And it knows that I'm still here. And it's waiting. We are abandoned. Liars own the words, and all the pictures in all the museums in the world are just a shell & pea game played by the clever people to bilk the rubes. Reality is defined by the needs of the media. History is rewritten faster than it can happen. Culture is a weapon that's used against us. Nah, culture is a swampland of superstition, ignorance & abuse. Geography is a language they can't screw up. The land & what we add to it cannot lie. It's also like a mirror. Reflected we see ourselves or we choose to turn away. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Highwaterville. Between Vegas, and Los Angeles, the world & his brother, too, they're down on their knees, howlin at the moon. Between Hell, and Highwaterville, somebody's sayin something - You want but you never will. Between here, and somewhere far, there's a person you know floatin face down, at the bottom of a jar. Where you goin? Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. SAD.TXT. One day I will be your man. One day I will be the best that you can do. Time will catch up to you. Time is gonna catch you, like it caught me too. Like it caught up to me. Like it caught me too. Frozen, broken by light in two - my, how my world slows to a stop each night without you. One day will you unfreeze me? One day will you unfreeze my life, where it is stuck to you? Where I am froze to you. I am stuck to you. One day I will be your man. One day I will be the best that you can do. Time will catch up to you. Time is gonna catch you, like it caught me too Like it caught up to me. It caught up to me. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Urban Lifestyle. Somewhere out there, the bars are open. Somewhere out there, the night is calling. Somewhere out there, good times are rolling, and it's summer in the streets. Somewhere out there, the stars are on fire. Somewhere out there, rats are in motion. Somewhere out there, people are laughing, and it's summer in the streets. Somewhere out there, the dogs are all barking. Somewhere out there, there's blind people parking. Somewhere out there, the beer it is flowing, and it's summer in the streets. Somewhere out there, the bars are open. Somewhere out there, the night is calling. Somewhere out there, good times are rolling, and it's summer in the streets. It's summer in the streets! It's summer. Somewhere out there, the stars are on fire. Somewhere out there, rats are in motion. Somewhere out there, people are laughing. Somewhere out there, it's summer. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Silent Spring. Follow me into town. Follow me into town. Follow me into town - You don't know where we're going. That's where we're going. Follow me as far as this. That's all you need to know, all you'll need to know. That's where we're going. Follow me into town. You don't know where we're going. Follow me into town. You don't know where we're going. That's where we're going. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Muddy Waters. After they've taken everything that we might have owned, after they've stolen the thing we have loved - They've taken everything that we might have owned, and then they say, It's just not enough. Like Muddy Waters to a recalcitrant guitar player he pins to the wall, with a hand like a fist, pins him to the wall, and looks him in the eye to say, Boy you must go. Boy, you must go. Boy, you must go. Boy, you must go. Boy, you must go. Now fire is like a mirror, and we were standin there rockin on our heels, watchin the heart of the flames. Smoke is like a door & thru it you never come back to me. Well, I was standin on the outside inside lookin out & I was seein someone that's too far away. Well, I was standin on the inside lookin out lookin at the outside & I was askin myself, Why do I delay any longer? Boy, you must go. You must go. Boy, you must go. Boy, you better go. Well, I was standin on the outside inside lookin out & I was seein someone that's too far away. I was standin on the inside lookin out lookin at the outside & askin myself, why do I delay? Well, I was standin on the outside inside lookin out & I was seein someone that's too far away. I was standin on the inside lookin out lookin at the outside & askin myself, why do I delay? Well, I was standin on the inside lookin out lookin at the outside & askin myself, Why do I delay any longer than this?? Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Drive. Drive to the sun past the brittle bones of a moon-like world. It's a big country, and a sun-scarred land, and the wind howls thru a winter of lies. It's a long way back down the road that everybody knows. It's empty now but my eyes are framed in the rear view. Does the desperation show? Drive to the sun, he said, thru a look that looks from far away. We've trailed our dreams behind us for days like paper that's been shredded by the force of our passing. It's a lonely road out there where tomorrow has got no home in yesterday. All the day goes rushing west, but the thing is so near that the words catch in my throat and I can't explain. East is east, but west is best. Your golden arms I fear to test. East is east, but west is best. Your golden arms I fear. I know a road they say is the loneliest highway in the world. Have you seen it? It's as relentless as the arrow of time, and just as unforgiving. Drive to the sun, he said. Into the vanishing point! Across a dry sea bed - cobalt blue, tin can rusted, salt-encrusted lips - your face is a mirror. We will never know what it was that has been lost from here. We will never know what it is. All we can know is what we have lost instead, you & I. Drive to the sun, he said, as yet another ghost town casino forms thru the shimmering heat. Think of all that existential claptrap that litters the days of our lives. East is east, but west is best. Your golden arms I fear to test. East is east, but west is best. Your golden arms I fear. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Indiangiver. It oughta be a crime - don't reckon it is. I think it's a sin - I'm pretty sure. Now, to promise your love, and then to take it back again - Man, what man are you? Man... Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Monday Morning. In the hard-edged town, the form that the light takes is like a trickle down. Some things it will filter out to soften the faces of the angry men who still walk around, who will walk around, in the harvest night of a suitcase town. I fear the pace of change. I fear the face of change. I fear the pace of change. Something in the air tastes of strange enough. Everybody must go. Everybody must swear an oath to leave. I heard it on the radio. That's how I know. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Perfume. We pulled off the highway, and drove down Main Street until we found a one-pump, where we gassed and asked where the food was - just like we knew we'd been expected all along. A lawyer had an office on the 2nd floor. He reached it from the outside up the stairs side of the wall. Just past there I looked down the street, and saw where the town disappeared into the high plains, and I knew that somewhere out there, there's a valley that's filled with frozen clouds, where dust hangs in the air like it is perfume, and no one is waiting. Is there someone here that knows me? I meant to write down the name of the town, and I don't remember the highway we took to get to it, or where we went afterwards. I do remember the frozen quality of the hours we stayed there. I remember the waitress. and what Tom had to eat. I remember the faces of the other customers like they was my own family. And I remember that just over the horizon there was a valley that was filled with frozen clouds, where dust hung in the air like it was perfume. Is there someone here who knows me? Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Fly's Eye. Maybe it's in the moonlight, or maybe it's in the headlights, but the driver of the car's still your man in the moon, and the guy at his side was your brother Bill. They was howlin at the world from the top of the hill. They was howlin at the world from the top of a hill. Tonight, I can them in your eyes, like I saw it in a dream. I can them in your eyes. Baby, you better come inside. Cuz the driver of the car's still the man in the moon, and the guy at his side is your brother Bill. They was howlin at the world from the top of the hill. They was howlin at the world from the top of a hill. In the halo of the evening, where the kitchen meets the nighttime, at the screen, who is it standing there? Hey baby, you're lettin all the bugs in! The driver of the car's still the man in the moon, and the guy at his side is your brother Bill. They was howlin at the world from the top of a hill. They was howlin at the world from the top of the hill. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. Wheelhouse. Have you ever felt like a one horse town has come your way? Have you ever felt like a one horse town has come your way? Have you ever felt like a one horse town has come your way, came to stay? In a wheelhouse big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse great big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse they grind. Have you ever crossed a threshing room floor? (When the dust hangs in the air?) Have you ever crossed a threshing room floor? (When the dust hangs in the air?) Have you ever crossed a threshing room floor? (When the dust hangs in the air?) Cuz I have. Have you ever thought that you might be the clown? (When the light hangs in the dust?) Have you ever thought that you might be the clown? (When the light hangs in the dust?) Have you ever thought that you might be the clown? (When the light hangs in the dust?) In a center ring, across a hot floor, no one knows who you used to be, or where you've been, or what you've done, or the things that you feel? In a wheelhouse big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse great big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse great big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse the great big gears are grinding. In a wheelhouse big gears grind. Big gears grind. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. My Name Is ... My name is Ellipsis. Writers: Pere Ubu. ©1998 Bug Music (US/ROW except Europe), ©1998 ECC (Europe). Lyrics by David Thomas. |