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Jawbox




Альбом Jawbox



1994
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
LS/MFT
6.
7.
8.
9.
Jackpot Plus!
10.
Chicago Piano
11.
12.
13.
. . .


(He invites the storm.
He lives by instinct,
with fears that are not fears,
but prickles of ecstacy.)

This code is cracked!
I don't expect
whatever I spat out to stick
awash in the signs,
sick from the lack.
Spliced in,
spliced in
second-hand words and screen for skin.
Forcing out sounds,
facing outside
again.

Reified and refined,
blurring every line.
Just want a way not to be what gets sold to me.
FF=66 explains you're sick.
Spins on the axis od promise
and lick lack luck
reveals all tricks.

. . .


Hey angel, consider your position
Framed to be consumed
Savory
Savoring your sympathy

Hey angel, fly over and bless me
See you feign surprise
That I'm all eyes
And you're all you need to be

Hey angel, whatever position
We consider fit to put you in
You'll protest your complicity

Easy now

One hand will wash the other
One hand will wash the other

Hey angel, fly over and bless me
See you feign surprise
But I'm all eyes
And we're all we need to be, need to be

Easy now

One hand will wash the other
One hand will wash the other

. . .


A minute,
a second,
a half-life,
a minus,
a segment,
a blinder,
elective detention.
It's secession time,
paid for by cutting backwards.
It's election time,
letting every insult become presidential injury.

(Chorus)
(I'm begging you just hold my head up)
This last disgrace,
breathe in my face,
bleed in distaste,
bless this amen.
final lesson.

A minute,
a second,
a half-life,
a minus,
a second
reminder,
selective attention.
It's secession time,
paid for by cutting backwards.
It's insurrection time,
letting every insult be accepted into history.


(I'm begging you just hold my head up)
This last disgrace,
breathe in my face,
bleed in distaste,
bless this amen.
final lesson.
(Na-Na-Now)

This last disgrace,
bless this amen.

Final lesson.
(Na-Na-Now)

Final lesson.
(Na-Na-Now)

Final lesson.
(Na-Na-Now)

Final lesson.
(Na-Na-Now)

Final lesson.

. . .


Taking Division down to where I shouldn't be,
turn pockets run aground in the Green.
New way to see what's laid plain in front of me.
Nothing better than a look at what I shouldn't see.

When you examined the wreck, what did you see?
Glass everywhere and wheels still spinning free.
When you examined the wreck, what did you see?
Glass everywhere and wheels still spinning free.
Accidental, maybe.
Restraints too frayed to withhold me.

Remember,
you told me
you will go
where you're meant
to be.

This is my wreck, so let it be.
Cracked gauges carry messages for me.
Calls and responses you can't see,
calls and responses you can't see.
I know you'd never grasp the possibilities.
What would you risk to rescue me?

So turn your back,
just drive on past
'cause nothing is better than getting out fast.

Taking Division down to where I shouldn't be,
five blocks down in the middle of the Green.
No messages wash ashore with me.
Glass shards reflecting light so I can see.
I know you'd never grasp the possibilities.
What would you risk to rescue me?

. . .

LS/MFT

[Нет текста]

. . .


Fear as friend I wish I'd never kissed;
Faded hand to mouth as catalyst.
Technicolored static sender,
Secondguess my love for danger.
Bold-face it with a hand of 10 by 10.

Turn the cooling card
And show your hand to me.
Hands up, past time for both of us to see.

Clothes and match were pulled straight from my bed.
Fatal weather rolls around my head.
Burned the place down to the ground now,
And crazy head singed up this town;
Marked it with a blackened boldface T.

Since I've got myself an easy job,
Money passed behind and now I'm robbed.
Sold away my rights forever
To something that was multi-splendored.
I'll pass up the decision once again.

. . .


Daylight
Unwelcome eye on your underground
Green glass
Roads over that uneven ground

Shut out
Reasons that make an uneasy mind
Hold out
For your sweet new valentine

If it's a number you want
Could be already assigned
And if it's a number you want
Why can't you take it?

Bright eyes
You'll lose your shine in one more round
Green glass
Refracts the light and draws you down

If it's a number you want
Could be already assigned
And if it's a number you want
Why can't you take it

. . .


Clean could still be the big white knight
A man so blessed with foresight forseight

The page wants to stay white
Fixed
Lost

Clean martial rhythm's been locked in
The king is hound's-tooth clean
As anyone can see

. . .

Jackpot Plus!

[Нет текста]

. . .

Chicago Piano

[Нет текста]

. . .


Listen -
There is no use in trying to explain
Listen -
Is it your fault she made those cuts again?
To let out blood she thought it made her bad
Or maybe just to cut you out instead


(Chorus)
Keep your head
Cauterize
Wounds you hide
Burn them clean
Show no way inside

Listen -
The sound is down now you should hear yourself
Shouting from the bottom of a well
Attempts repeated infinitely feel useless now

Cauterize
Wounds you hide
Burn them clean
Show no way inside

Reel on a repeating loop
Reel on a repeating loop
Listen, listen, listen, listen

Cauterize
Wounds you hide
Burn them clean
Show no way inside

. . .


Fourteen days in the dreamhouse
In the binder
Keep on drinking

It's some arrival
Some adjustment
To have to view unblinking

Falling down
(Ageing in place)
Calling out
Falling down
(Ageing in place)
Calling out

Don't go too far not bad
Just nostalgic for lost time
Bought the second-rate product in demand

Credit still due
Over your head
Cardboard dust coats everything

Falling down
(Ageing in place)
Calling out
Falling down
(Ageing in place)
Calling out

Don't go too far not bad
Just nostalgic for lost time
Bought the second-rate product in demand
Bought the second-rate product in demand

. . .


He says
This is more than just a line
This is more than just free time
These doldrums squat in rows two by two
And in his pocket
He holds a a catholic and a key
Keeps both feet on the ground

This is you

He says
This is not quite time to think
This water's not so bad to drink
Then chokes a laugh and walks away

And in his pocket
He holds a a catholic and a key
With both feet on the ground

This is you

. . .


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