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Jellyfish




Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  J  →  Jellyfish  →  Дискография  →  Spilt Milk

Альбом Jellyfish


Spilt Milk (1993)
1993
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Go to sleep and hush little darling.
It's time for bed, time to put out the light.
Sweet dreams are awaiting behind your closed eyes
and a blanket of night.
Where the bed bugs don't bite.
Go to sleep and hush until morning.
You've said all your prayers.
Time to make them come true.
Don't worry your daddy is here
If you need him tonight.
Ease your mind.
Rest your eyes and sleep tight.
Goodnight.

. . .


She turned the nightlight on a blew him a kiss.
He stared back through is green crayola eyes.
She traced his likeness from off the back of a disc.
Next to the boxtop promise of the biggest prize.
Joining a fan club with my friends.
Filling our bathtubs with tee shirts and 8 x 10's.
He looks so dreamy,
I'm in love from afar.
When I'm picking up a fallen star.
Downstairs the late show's blasting 'age of the rock'.
The greedy monks playin' last Sunday at the milky way.
Mom's writing checks to the minister in the corner singing 'dig down deep'.
'Cause if you wanna go to heaven all you gotta so is pay to pray.
Joining a fan club with my pen.
Filling my bathtub with Holy water and amens.
He looks so dreamy,
I'm in love from afar.
When I'm picking up a fallen star.
Shake that woody.
Shake it for me St. Pinocchio.
You've paid your money, now watch that money grow.
Joining a fan club, best be warned.
He turns me on when he wears that lampshade corwn of thorns.
We'd be so dreamy,
Sharing his black caviar.
While I'm picking up a fallen star.
Joining a fan club is a big mistake.
I still get heartburn when I think about all of the stamps I ate.
I wished I'd loved him,
Before fate crashed his car.
Say a prayer for the fallen star.

. . .


far behind the forest of
flying paper airplanes
grazing on the grounds of ponytails
the substitute is counting down her ticks 'til recess
hammering down to size her fingernails

because today's the day sabrina builds her box lunch buffet
kool-aid, sandwiches and chips for all the shoulders
lunch is on the table soon dessert
is on the floor,
singing

so serene sabrina makes me feel so serene
so serene sabrina makes me feel so serene

chesney's looking dapper in his brand new dunce cap
strolling down the runway to an "f"
(never has he look so lovely)
with all the others watching
eating paste and plato (the one and only)
he fights the urge to run and kiss the chef

but she's a lovetarian especially in the form of puppies
so he keeps his elbows off her
table but he spills the beans
that he loves the girl behind the boysenberry punch
(sabrina)

so serene sabrina makes me feel so serene
(our lady of the jabberwock)
so serene sabrina makes me feel so serene
(i live to smell her tulips talk)
so serene sabrina makes me feel so serene
(hostess for the show and tell, the shepherdess of the muscatel)
lucnhbox, hopsctoch on the rocks
with spitballs, pratfalls, alcohol

sabrina..

. . .


Curtain opens, spotlights the gentleman
Signing his love letter "Best wishes, Simpleton"
Dialog swam from his pen like pollywogs
He knew better that perfume was gravity
Pulling him closer to what could be tragedy
Love is blind, deaf and dumb, but never mind

You better catch me when I fall
I'm on my roller skates
'Cause any ole way that I fall
I land in your arms even though it's wrong
'Cause I love my new mistake

Intermission gave way to a miracle
The birth of an accident grew to a spectacle
That couldn't wait
The mother was three weeks late
So Father Mason clutching his crucifix
Baptized the baby in whiskey and licorice
What a lovely way
Drowning sins in tooth decay

Looks like our hero's gonna fall
The bough's about to break
'Cause any ole way that I fall
I'll be in your arms as we lie awake
With our lovely new mistake

You better catch me when I fall
My sugar trampoline
'Cause any ole way that I fall
I land in your arms even though it's wrong
'Cause I love my new mistake

The ending turned tragic when many years later
The baby had grown up and married a pop singer
I guess it was her turn to make (her first mistake)

Any ole time at all
Any ole way that I fall
Any ole time at all
Any ole way that I fall
Any ole time at all
Any ole way that I fall
I just lie awake with my new mistake

. . .


In the breathless hush of four a.m.
In the dark sits a sad cliché
Cloaked in the navy blue
Of slowly fading stars

Tell me how this came to be
Sleeplessness talk to me
She'd say over and over again

Fumbling through a cut-glass vase
Passing lipstick, cotton spools
Burning jealous pictures of marriages
Of friends

You never asked to be
The glutton of sympathy
She says over and and over
That this is the end

'Cause I see it in your eyes
What you don't know, time to let go
I see it in your eyes
There is so much more out there to be learned

Such mournful words
On this white snow vacant page
All the lessons that she learns
She packs away

Will you never cease to be
The glutton of sympathy
She writes over and over
Again

That's when I see it in your eyes
What you don't know, time to let go
I see it in your eyes
There is so much more out there to be learned

Tossing, turning, roll away
Indecision, won't you ever make up your mind
Lifetime, nighttime, wake the day
'Cause tomorrow will see
If you've had your fill of sympathy

Will you never cease to be
The glutton of sympathy
Oh, don't you know the stars are all fading
Let the sunshine capture the sparkle of your smile

. . .


Ugly apparition, God's gift to oxygen
The puffed up immortal son
How they love him cause he'll become
The ghost at number one

How does it feel
To be the only one?
How does it feel
To be the only one that knows that you're right?
How does it feel
To be a loaded gun?
How does it feel
Inside a chamber packed with piss and spite?

Sure life's no cherry but a cupake for the meek (shootupbopbop)
(Like a valen....tiiiiiiiiiiiine)
So he shoots up his poison until the frosting tastes so sweet
Yeah he's givin' it all he's got the king of rebels hit the jackpot
But his finish line was an artistic flop
Even the critics can't outrun
The ghost at number one

How does it feel
To be the only one?
How does it feel
To be the only one that knows that you're right?
How does it feel
To be a chalkline dollar sign
How does it feel
Up at the address all the widows write?

Mrs.Lynn the fruit of your labour
Gives us a saviour, nappy superstar.
To you we bid congtatulations, to him adulation.
A blessed life begun, for the ghost at number one.

How does it feel
To be the only one?
How does it feel
To be the only one that knows that you're right?
How does it feel
To be a visionary poet
How does it feel
To pack a pen with vinegar and insight
How does it feel
To be the only one?
How does it feel
To be the only one that knows that you're right?
How does it feel
To be a so deep down underground?
How does it feel
To be the only one who knows you've been buried alive?

Mrs Lynn the fruit of your labour
Gives us a saviour.

. . .


so there it is
all the truth is on the table
nothing to forgive
it's ok to start again

the wedding cake
almost fades into a memory thrown
in cupid's face
love's just frosting anyway
they both think back to long ago
when thoughts of them both
growing old
had given them the grey hair they
deserved
singing bye bye bye...
well i've come to take you home

another wife
neglected to the end
lives her on prison life
solitaire's not just a game

she called his bluff
even thought the token and gold
watch were never enough
to tell the time and start again

it seems all of these tragedies
that last and last eternities
have broken every bank and every
bone singing bye bye bye..
well i've come to take you home

. . .


heal me darling
pleaded the playboy bedroom eyes
grace your sunshine
till everyithing's ok, alright, fine

what's hers is his
cause everything is forgiven
forgiven
though he soured the milk of human
kindness all is forgiven (all is forgiven)

truth and avarice
encircle his words like a
barberpole
twisted and useless
till they disappear in her camisole
(goodnight alibi)

throw away your daggers and pills
cause everything's still forgiven
forgiven
though he bit off the nipple of
human kindness all is forgiven

hypocrite, four flusher, snake in
the grass
just a swindler and wolf in sheep's
clothing, liar

yes he tries to hide the cross he
bears
but splinters, like the truth have
always risen
all is forgiven

though he shelters in the
shade of the wings of a stool pigeon
all is forgiven

. . .


i dreamt about a tranquil
sunday drive
a sensory lullaby
we trade the comic cartoons and
magazines for pistons and gasolines

we see the road from the bedside
parked under the sunshine
we feel the warmth of the engine
so we climb inside
and take to the motorway

watch the clouds turn into faces
it's fun to play
shift the gears for years and age
a single day
until we spill onto russian hill

past cathedrals filled with god's
favorite guests
dirty hands feel clean
dressed in their
sunday best
treeline villages oh so heavenly
cross a bridge of gold to landscapes
of jumper

only eden is for millionaires

watch the clouds turn into faces its
fun to play
shift the gears for years and age
a single day
until we spill onto russian hill

i'm pulling through the last
stoplight
we head home past the shoreline
and through the rear view mirror it
melts away

till we're hopeless
watch the clouds turn into faces
its fun to play

we're hopeless
we shift the gears for years and age
a single day
it fades away
for like curtains close this sunset matinee
a dream fulfilled on russian hill

. . .


I've known him all my life
It seems so inconceviable
At thirteen we shooks hands but we've
Been always inseparable
He's cinnamon on my toast we're so
Close

That's not to say we haven't had our
Share of arguments
He's so unpredictable he winks
Acknowledgments
When I would rather he closed his eye
Than push me aside

My hand's a five leaf clover
It's palm sunday over and over
I never had the luck of swingers
Till I was wrapped around your finger

He's my best friend
He's my best friend
He's my best friend
I'm his best friend
He's my best friend

You don't need a brain to have a
Stroke of genius
Or a beautiful girl to let down
Your curls
Cause growing up is hard enough
When your a powderkeg for
Powderpuffs
(Whether we're stayin' in or hanging out)
I'd never ask another on a date to
The ball
He doesn't need a rubber sweater or
Alcohol
Cause he gets tipsy from exchanging looks
And a little misty reading sticky
Blue dirty books

But he's my best friend
He's my best friend
I'm his best friend
He's my best friend

My hand's a five leaf clover
It's Palm Sunday over and over
I never had the luck of swingers
Till I was wrapped around your finger

He's my best friend
(We could hold hands for hours)
He's my best friend
(In the bedroom or shower)
He's my best friend
(I pick him up when he's feelin down)
He's my best friend
(I guess he's always been hangin around)
He's my best friend
(He gets lonely now and then)
He's my best friend
(And he gets shy around another men)
I'm his best friend
(It seems I've reached the end of my best friend)

. . .


Say goodnight, your song is through
Faint refrain we hardly knew
Comes crashin' against the drunken waters of this wake when I hesitate
Because all I can say is "too much, too little, too late"

Farewell, you fool
Spare me the punch line please, I learned it well at Sunday school
Way back when all you loved was the grease paint, not the collection plate
So much for the funny face
Because all I can say is "too much, too little, too late"

Remember when murder was only killing time
And an axe to grind (to grind, it was) was a bitter gulp of strychnine?
What happened to the musketeers of chesterfields?
Tobacco swords behind smoky shields

Say goodnight (goodnight)
Old song (so long)
You're through (set the needle back and hum a new tune)
Faint refrain (refrain)
Make room (so soon, so soon)
For new (until the hook can pull the bridge into view)

Spare me the vague, not-so-clever couplets
The ones I would have loved when I was you

'Cause now all I can say is "too much, too little ..."
And all I can feel, feels like the heaviest weight
'Cause all I can say is "too much, too little, too late"

. . .


strike the tent
unpop the paintbox
and pack the carriages
with the flesh freaks of fear
at the beach
we left them shell shocked
lining up the avenue
in view of next year

high steppin'
like a brigade
down the block
don't be shocked
to hear somebody say "wake up doomsday"
it's time to join the big parade
come and march in time with the band
playing loud fighting crowds
to see the matinee (it's tailor made)
because it's gonna be a brighter day

for the seeker of thrills
behind the ferris wheels
there's a man with one foot in the
grave and one foot on a
banana peel
he's an actor of sorts
who sold himself too short
so now he travels door to door
performing 'death of a salesman'
oh my country tears of thee
how the circus makes the world
safe for anarchy
in a cage with an uneasy chair
atop a merry go round
he wears that clown crown
can't you see that you can
come as you are
as you were
if you prefer you can change
(yes it can be arranged)
when you come and join the big parade
but you can leave your bagage
at home don't you pack
don't look back
then you can truly say
'goodbye highway'
that what then and this is nowadays

come on you big shot and enjoy
the rain
take a class in pumping blood into
those weathered veins
and i bet you'd still come out as
a teacher's pet

(ice cream and you cause it come to
being watertight scream but you'll
wrote that book you own the
copyright and clown costume
always be a plumber,
i saw it hanging in the closet of
your elbow room with a pipe dream)

if you've had it up to here with
what's real
i'm here to tell you that it's no big deal
because it's not too late
if you hurry up you can
come on and join the big charade
line up shut up clean up and shave
cause right behind you in the back
of the fray
is a blade he's a renegade
turning bullshit into marmalade
don't you know there's gonna be
a heavy price to pay
for pushing all these clouds away
it's bound to be a brighter day
it can't help but be a brighter day

. . .


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