1. |
||||
|
“Fred”: Something else…
Mission Control: Uh, what’d you see happen?
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at 28.
Siri: His mother and father rend their flesh in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at 34.
Siri: His parents and his sister rend their flesh in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 7.
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2. |
Kin Lead My Hed
05:56
|
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|
Thick in the head, these fools got the highest hopes! What a shame (Free me)
Stuck in bed, by my youth unemployed, by fat cat fatherlover (Free me)
Kin trouble the world, I’ve seen. My kin: levitating (Free me)
Kin lead my head to every warcrime
To the river, here I struggle all day and all night
By the river, all night and all day
And when we fight, lay your dreams with all of your might
Others will mock, they scoff, they spit in my face. What a shame (Free me)
Kin trouble the world, I’ve seen. My kin: levitating (Free me)
When you’re up, you’re insane. When you’re down, such a drag. (What a shame!)
Kin trouble the world, I’ve seen. Your kin: hesitating (Free me)
Kin lead my head to every warcrime
To the river, here I struggle all day and all night
By the river, all night and all day
And when we fight, lay your dreams with all of your might
We love you useless, ugly, and heartless
We love you, beautiful!
Kin trouble the world, I’ve seen. My kin: levitating
“We love you”: useless! Now they can’t free us
My word is useless!
My time’s been born with every warcrime (Cry, cry, cry)
(Solo)
Kin trouble the world, I’ve seen. My kin: levitating (Free me)
Bloodied skulls, crippled youth rolling down boulevards and no-ways
We love you useless, ugly and heartless
We love you, beautiful! (Free me)
Kin trouble the world, I’ve seen. My kin: levitating (Free me)
Kin lead my head to every warcrime
To the river, here I struggle all day and all night
By the river, all night and all day
And when we fight, lay your dreams with all of your might
When you’re up, you’re insane
My word is useless; now they can’t free us (All day & all night)
“We love you”: useless!
Now they can’t free us
And when we fight, lay your dreams with all of your might
|
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3. |
||||
|
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at age 10.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at 32.
Siri: His nuclear family and grandparents and favorite cousin rend their flesh
in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle is now dead at the age of 20.
Siri: His family and best friend rend their flesh
in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at 35.
Siri: His family and best friend, perhaps even a colleague or two, rend their flesh in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at 17.
Siri: Family, friends, and bandmates rend their flesh in agony and horror over
the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 31.
Siri: His family and bandmates and girlfriends rend their flesh in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
|
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4. |
Had To Go Under
03:08
|
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|
Living in the ultragamma
Running where there’s too much drama
And meaning might as well be thunder
“That’s why” had to go under
All ready, loose, and intact
No dream, only a fact
But a love so false made me wonder
“That’s why” had to go under
Anyone who runs through will fall
Drop a line if you live through it all
Anyway I hope there’s a cause
In effect I only see flaws
My nights of armour are over
And days of mourning: too sober
Now winter burns all through October
You build a wall, we go under
|
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5. |
||||
|
“Fred”: D is for dumbness and despair…and desertion. The desertion of your friends from you, you from your friends.
Mission Control: Ah, I think you’d better go back to the, uh, y’know, prepared text there, Fred.
“Fred”: D is finally, death.
|
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6. |
Shut Up And Draw
05:17
|
|||
|
I was wound up
Bound for angelic vices
They laid me out dead
I’m shut up for good
They laid me out dead
I’m shut up for good, yeah
“He must be dumb
He says he’ll never win
Shut his trap!
Watch him talk his way in”
“Shut his trap!
Watch him talk his way in”
Shut up and draw!
Shut up and draw
These two hands are the law
(Repeat)
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7. |
D For Dumby
03:30
|
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|
You want me to lead
But we cannot speak
There’s still a way in
And I’m weak, too weak
We’re so loaded down and golden
It makes my tongue frozen
And my brain is worn
I wonder, how come?
I could not sing, I lost my tongue
(D for dumb, D for dumb)
“Won’t you come?
We’re waiting for you”
(D for dumb, D for dumb)
(Repeat Chorus)
Where is the key…to my heart?
Out of my mind…
The key to my soul!
I could not sing, I lost my tongue
(D for dumb, D for dumb)
“Won’t you come?
We’re waiting for you”
(D for dumb, D for dumb)
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
Dreams: how personal are they, really?
(Meaning: is yours absolutely crucial? Of great import?
Or, rather, do you export for a million in prizes?
Also: wider public acceptance!)
|
||||
9. |
Year One Plums
03:05
|
|||
|
Plum tree, blesséd plum tree
Where I start the day…a sweet free breakfast!
From my worries I escape at last
Now the sun’s so high
Brings me year one plums
Year one plums
Plum tree, blesséd plum tree
Terrors of the night now have made me strong
And the bitterness of her blossoming proves all love is wrong
Bring me year one plums
Year one plums
How I’d love to start a garden
I’d plumb work these hands numb
But today I rest and give my thanks now the sun is high
How I’d love to plant a business
I’d bum a million from some crazy bird
Oh, how I’d sing her praise now the sun is high
Convalesce with me, I’m completely broke and left behind by time
I need to chill a minute
|
||||
10. |
Aloha! Big Brother
04:51
|
|||
|
Drop the pretense, sit this one out
(If only she would appear)
Let go and forget me
Make sure you’re plugged in (no need to speak)
Mark and extend all the way
To big sisters:
We love you already
Make sure you’re breathing
These two hands, these two lungs
Will do no harm
But she just wants to organize
We just want to help Big Brother
Help him fund deëvolution
We will give her something new to sell
Keep her high on purpose, with fancy vodkas and glossy magazines
“Aloha” to your illusion
Could be no hope
No, not for free
Could be no love
Nope, love is me
Could be madness down from an aunt
Could be total recall…making new plans
Aloha! Big brother (x3)
The moon is gone right through the roof
Now shine through the night
Make room for sunny, too bad for honey
All never know crime again
Drop the fantasy, I’m safe behind
Finally there’s time
Time enough to be insane (Uh-oh!)
Could be no hope
No, not for free
Could be no love
Nope, love is me
Could be madness down from an aunt
Could be total recall…making new plans
Aloha! Big brother (x3)
Winston Smith’s no friend of mine [Repeat]
I wouldn’t lie, Big Brother, oh no!
I wouldn’t lie, Big Brother, oh no!
Winston Smith’s no friend of mine [Repeat]
|
||||
11. |
||||
|
Meaning: is yours absolutely crucial? Of great import?
Or, rather, do you export for a million in prizes?
Also: wider public acceptance!
What matters are:
NOW I FEEL GOOD
And your thoughts regarding this, that, or the other
Isn’t much of a bother to me
Ambition: is it personal at all, actually?
(Seemingly)
Seemingly, a secret mission
Yet in fact utterly calm
And uncaring as to which one does the job
GOOD RIDDANCE!
(I repeat:)
GOOD.
RIDDANCE.
So many of you poor fucks are nuisances
|
||||
12. |
||||
|
Here comes your man
Young needs, they shake
A new bond is born, but hold on
Invisible protocol
Danger, danger, danger!
(Endless!)
How to know why to speak up
Don’t tell me stories
Feeding church kid misery
Please!
Disable your hero
I ask her who “they” are
She calls my number
“Go tell until you’ve learned all the pain
Only then cash in like you’re somewhat older”
Now I’m holding her do you think
I’d like a bit…
Weaker, weaker, weaker??!
(Endless!)
Look to Bossy: “We’ll bring back the breeze,
We will when hot,
So here’s that rainy code”
TEASE!
(Do not explode!)
I’d write her back by now
I’m so much number
“Come see if you could thaw out this heart”
“Only when my brain’s wrapped all around you”
Now I’ve lost my face I run
She appears…
Stranger, stranger, strangers:
End this!
[BRIDGE:]
“Hi, I’m Gavin MacLeod
I’ll be your captain this evening.
Why not have a drink?
It’s Isaac, he’s our bartender.
Julie! Beautiful ensign.”
And when I woke from the nightmare
I find I’m never bit
And hard as it seems
Just another piece of
Golden, golden, golden!
…and yet.
|
||||
13. |
||||
|
Alone at night, alone all day
With just one friend, sadness would end
On the outside staring like a fool
Wish I could be normal, too
When I wake, sick of myself
I dream of meeting someone else
There’s not much fun in playing tough
Now I’m done, I say “enough”
Lonely, lonely
Always home
I’ve got no friends!
Lonely, lonely
No bro, no crony
Feeling lost again
The fun I’d have never starts
If only we could be good friends!
A guy like me has time to spare
I’m virtually a millionaire
No boss, no pet, no ex-wife yet
I’m lost dreaming of my own Rockette
And in sadness I wrote the book
Spare me your pathetic look
I’ll be here, not moving on
There’s too much fun, right or wrong
Lonely, lonely
Always home
I’ve got no friends!
Lonely, lonely
No heauxs, no fauxnies
Feeling lost again
The fun I’d have never starts
If only we could be good friends!
[Instrumental Break]
Alone at night, alone all day
Imagined friends until the end
We’re still inside, starving like fools
“No time to waste, too much to do”
Lonely, lonely
Always home
I’ve got no friends!
Lonely, lonely
No bros, no cronies
Feeling lost again
The fun I’d have never starts
If only we could be…
|
||||
14. |
Outro: "For My Friends"
01:17
|
|||
|
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 22.
Siri: Many terabytes of fans throughout the multiverse
rend their flesh in agony and horror over the unspeakably
tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 21.
Siri: I couldn’t find anything about “rend their flesh in agony” on the web.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 14 years old!
Siri: Family, friends, and bandmates…perhaps even a colleague or two,
rend their flesh in agony and horror over the unspeakably tragic loss.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 29.
Siri: Several fans beat their chests as a symbol of suffering as women
wail in the streets.
Narrator: Tyrone Rattle, dead at the age of 12 months old: just a baby!
A literal baby.
Siri: Women wail in the streets in a show of their dismay and pain for this
most wonderful and magnanimous of men.
Narrator: Just a baby. A literal baby!
Siri: One million fans worldwide. Worldwide.
“Fred”: Well, that’s it. A present for my friends at Thanksgiving.
|
||||
MOXNOY California
Better living through (musically altered brain) chemistry.
Person (2006)
Good Times...on the Unenjoyment Line (2008)
Cindy Lee (2010)
"Tyrone Rattle Verses Trauma" (2018)
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