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John Cale
John Cale


Информация
Настоящее имя John Davies Cale[1]
Дата рождения 9 марта 1942 г.
Жанры Art Rock
Classical
Baroque Pop
Experimental Rock
Folk-Rock
Годы 1965—н.в.
Лейблы Island Records
Reprise Records
Rhino Records
A&M Records
См. также Lou Reed
The Velvet Underground
Nico
Theater of Eternal Music
John Cage
Phil Manzanera
Brian Eno
Kevin Ayers
Сайт Website



Альбом John Cale


Fragments of a Rainy Season (1992)
1992
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. . .


With mistletoe and candle green
To Halloween we go
Ten murdered oranges bled on board ship
Lent comedy to shame
The cattle graze bolt uprightly
Seducing down the door
To saddle swords and meeting place
We have no place to go

Then wearily the footsteps worked
The hallelujah crowds
Too late but wait the long-legged bait
Tripped uselessly around
Sebastopol Adrianapolis
The prayers of all combined
Tear down the flags of ownership
The walls are falling down

A belt to hold
Columbus too, perimeters of nails
Perceived the Mamma's golden touch
Good neighbours were we all

. . .


I've been chasing ghosts and I don't like it
I wish someone would show me where to draw the line
I'd lay down my sword if you would take it
And tell everyone back home I'm doing fine

I was with you down in Acapulco
Trading clothing for some wine
Smelling like an old adobe woman
Or a William Burroughs playing for lost time

I was thinking about my mother
I was thinking about what's mine
I was living my life like a Hollywood
But I was dying on the vine

Who could sleep through all that noisy chatter
The troops, the celebrations in the sun
The authorities say my papers are all in order
And if I wasn't such a coward I would run

I'll see you me when all the shooting's over
Meet me on the other side of town
Yes, you can bring all your friends along for protection
It's always nice to have them hanging around

I was thinking about my mother
I was thinking about what's mine
I was living my life like a Hollywood
But I was dying, dying on the vine

. . .


A man was sleeping under a tree.
He wrote to me from Cordoba.
After the theatre, we went to his house.
He's a very generous Cordoban.
We waited at the door, but he didn't come.
According to his father, he's very ill.
There was a long line of cars
in front of me.
I came as soon as I could.
I left without paying, a suitcase under my arm.
I won't see you until Sunday.
I'll come as soon as I can.
I'll meet you alone in the shoeshop near the bakery.
By the two-storey house/very pretty/like a villa.
The lift stops between two floors.
You start to walk towards the station.
I walk towards the bus.
We'll have to wait at the station.
Leave the parcel on the top deck.
You start to walk towards the station.
I'll walk towards the bus.
You walk towards the station.
I'll walk towards the bus.
You walk towards the station.
I'll walk towards the bus.
You walk towards the station.
I'll walk towards the bus.

. . .


Woke up early this morning
Something wrong inside my head
Took a look around for breakfast
First thing I see is you're not there

Oh where were you, where were you?
where were you when I needed you?
where were you, where were you?
when I needed you to see me through?

Oh something wrong, now what's gone wrong here
Looked in the mirror, broken white
Lucky to be alive and kicking
Kicking a lot of life around here

But where were you, where were you?
where were you when I needed you?
Where were you, where were you?
When I needed you to see me through?

Ah, darling darling darling I need you
Darling darling darling I do
Darling darling darling I need you
Yes you know I do

Shefton brought me the message
Said you got out at galveston
Church of christ jesus, kentucky
Rattlesnakes and strychnine and prayer

Oh, where were you, where were you?
where were you when I needed you?
Where were you, where were you?
When I needed you to see me through

Oh darling darling darling I need you
Darling darling darling I do
Darling darling darling I need you
Yes you know I do

. . .


She makes me so unsure of myself
Standing there but never ever talking sense
Just a visitor you see
So much wanting to be seen
She'd open up the door and vaguely carry us away

It's the customary thing to say or do
To a disappointed proud man in his grief
And on Fridays she'd be there
But on Mondays not at all
Just casually appearing from the clock across the hall

You're a ghost la la la
You're a ghost
I'm in the church and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
la la la

The Continent's just fallen in disgrace
William William William Rogers put it in its place
Blood and tears from old Japan
Caravans and lots of jam and maids of honor
singing crying singing tediously

Efficiency efficiency they say
Get to know your job and tell the time of day
As the crowds begin complaining
How the Beaujolais is raining
Down on darkened meetings on the Champs Elysee

. . .


The bugger in the short sleeves fucked my wife
Did it quick and split
Back home, fresh as a daisy to Maisy, oh Maisy

And the twelve-bore it stood in the corner
Quite operatic in its self disgust
It blew him all over the living room floor
Like parrot shit, parrot spit, parrot shit was shot

Now suppose it was someone familiar
Someone we all would know
Embarrasing denouement, ne c'est pas?
Familiar hyperbole

And there would go the secret plot
The piss had missed the hole in the pot
Like that ancient teenage dream
From soul to poison soul to poison soul

Guts, guts, got no guts
And stitches don't help at all
Guts, guts, got no guts
Holes in the body, holes in the legs
Holes in the forehead, holes in the head
Holes in the body, holes in the legs
There should never be holes at all
There should never be holes at all

So: kill all you want or more
Make sure, do it right
Dead is dead, and door nails forget
And then you'll notice
How the waster and the wasted
Get to look like one another
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end

In the end, in the end

. . .


Standing waiting for a man to show
Wide eyed one eye fixed on the door
This waiting's killing me, it's wearing me down
Day in day out, my feet are burning holes in the ground

Darkness warmer than a bedroom floor
Want someone to hold me close forever more
I'm a sleeping dog, but you can't tell
When I'm on the prowl you'ld better run like hell
You know it makes sense, don't even think about it
Life and death are just things you do when you're bored
Say fear's a man's best friend
You add it up it brings you down

Home is living like a man on the run
Trails leading nowhere, where to my son?
We're already dead, just not yet in the ground
Take my helping hand I'll show you around
You know it makes sense, don't even think about it
Life and death are just things you do when you're bored
Say fear's a man's best friend
You add it up it brings you down

. . .


The Ship of Fools is coming in
Take me off I've got to eat
Same old stories same old thing
Letting out and pulling in

Mister, there's a caravan parked out back
Restless hoping for a Christian rider
The black book, a grappling hook
A hangman's noose on a burnt out tree
Guess we must be getting close to Tombstone

The last time we had eaten
Was when the flies were going for free
You could count the hardships by the open doors
But sandwiched in between
Were the fishermen who still
Wished they could sail from Tenessee to Arizona

So hold on, won't be long
The call is on the line
Hold on, Sister's gone
South to give the sign

We picked up Dracula in Memphis
It was just about the break of day
And then hastily prayed for out souls to be saved
There was something in the air that made us kind of weary

By the time we got to Swansea it was getting dark
Tumble, jungles, bugles and the prize
The tides turned west at Amerforth
As if they didn't know what to do
But Garnant stood its ground and asked for more

All the people seemed quite glad to see us
Shaking hands and smiling like the clock
Well we gave them all the message then
That the Ship of Fools was in
Make sure they get home for Christmas

So hold on, won't be long
The call is on the line
So hold on, Sister's gone
South to give the sign

. . .


Looking for a friend, looking everywhere
Walked along the boulevard, the boulevard of friends
All those mild mannered friends I've got
They're careless and they fall down
All over the place, all over town
I don't want them talking to me

'Cause I'm leaving it, leaving it, leaving it up to you
Have to leave it, leave it, leave it up to you

All the buildings are breaking down
Like the whispering in your heart
And it's sordid how life goes on
When I could take you apart
And if you give me half a chance
I'd do it now, I'd do it now, right now, you fascist
I know we could all feel safe like Sharon Tate
We could give it all up, we could give, give, give it all up
And the newspapers, oh the newspapers
They'd be listening, listening to me giving it to you
And the radio, what about the radios?
They'd be listening to me giving it to you

Right mama, damn right mama

I hear hissing, I hear hissing in the distance
I hear the tanks crawling
They're crawling over the hill, they're crawling over the hill
Like rattlesnakes in the desert sun
They're blistering up my spell, they're blistering it up
They're breaking it up, they're breaking up my spell
And what else is there, what else have I got?
What else have I got but that spell?

Ah, leaving it, leaving it, I'm leaving it up to you
Leaving it, leaving it, leaving it up to you
Leaving it, leaving it, leaving it in the cloakroom for you

I've got to give it up, I've got to give it up, give it up
Up, up, give it up

I can't take it

. . .


Traffic moving slowly Monday morning
Money talks, people hoping
Cable Hogue where've you been
Cable Hogue where've you been

Something inside me tells me you won't show
I know you're carrying heat
What for God only knows
Cable why'd you leave me
Cable Hogue where've you been
I just wanted to say goodbye
So much to say goodbye
Wanted to say goodbye to all my friends in case I die

Need to go to Georgia, got a bank to blow
Living ain't easy, but it's much harder when it's slow
Cable wish you were with me now
Cable Hogue where've you been
You know they're looking for you down south
And all you've got to do is go down there
And open your big fat mouth
Cable you can't leave me here like this
Cable please...

. . .


If you grow tired of the friends you make
In case you mean to say something else
Say they were the best of times you ever had
The best of times with the thoughtless kind

We dress conservatively at the best of times
Prefer the shadows to the bright lights in the eyes
Of the ones we love, the bright lights in the eyes of the ones we love

What we see, what we imagine the eyes tell us nothing
The bright lights in the eyes of the one we love will tell you
Nothing except that you're the thoughtless kind

If you grow tired of the friends you make
Never ever turn your back on them
Say they were the best of times you ever had
The best of times with the thoughtless kind

. . .


Words: Dylan Thomas

The sky is torn across
This ragged anniversary of two
Who moved for three years in tune
Down the long walks of their vows.

Now their love lies a loss
And Love and his patients roar on a chain;
From every true or crater
Carrying cloud. Death strikes their house.

Too late in the wrong rain
They come together whom their love parted:
The windows pour into their heart
And the doors burn in their brain.

. . .


Words: Dylan Thomas

Lie still, sleep becalmed, sufferer with the wound
In the throat, burning and turning. All night afloat
On the silent sea we have heard the sound
That came from the wound wrapped in the salt sheet.

Under the mile off moon we trembled listening
To the sea sound flowing like blood from the loud wound
And when the salt sheet broke in a storm of singing
The voices of all the drowned swam on the wind.

Open a pathway through the slow sad sail,
Throw wide to the wind the gates of the wandering boat
For my voyage to begin to the end of my wound,
We heard the sea sound sing, we saw the salt sheet tell,
Lie still, sleep becalmed, hide the mouth in the throat,
Or we shall obey, and ride with you through the drowned.

. . .


Words: Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

. . .


When Abilene was young and gay
And thunder storms filled up the day
The cattle roamed outside the town

Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun

Then tracks were lain across the plain
By broken old men in torrid rains
The towns grew up and the people were still

Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun

We all joined in and all joined hands
All joined in to help run this land
Then soldiers came, long long ago
Rode through the town and rode down those who were

Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun

Gold came and went, quickly spent
And the people broke down and often drowned
In the wealth and pain of old Abilene

Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun

. . .


She was a princess, much lower than people thought
A master of nothing a mistress of something she thought

She could talk about things that never mattered ever
From one person's miserable life after another
She could talk to the French and Germans at will
They'd never listen ..they never will
The chinese envoy was here, the chinese envoy was here but left
The chinese envoy was here but left in his broken hearted pagoda


Calling out her name you'd be surprised at what came
Galloping out of the darkness just like furniture
We'd have lost it all if it hadn't been for Cardinal Richelieu
And all his courtiers
The chinese envoy was here, the chinese envoy was here but left
The chinese envoy was here but left in his broken hearted pagoda.

. . .


You've got the money, I've got the time
You want your freedom, make your freedom mine
'Cause I've got the style it takes
and money is all that it takes
You've got connexions and I've got the art
You like my attention and I like your looks
and I have the style it takes and you know the people it takes
Why don't you sit right over there, we'll do a movie portrait
I'll turn the camera on and I won't even be there
A portrait that moves, you look great I think
I'll put the Empire State Building on your wall
For 24 hours glowing on your wall
Watch the sun rise above it in your room
Wallpaper art, a great view
I've got a Brillo box and I say it's art
It's the same one you can buy at any supermarket
'Cause I've got the style it takes
And you've got the people it takes
This is a rock group called The Velvet Underground
I show movies on them
Do you like their sound
'Cause they have a style that grates and I have art to make
Let's do a movie here next week
We don't have sound but you're so great
You don't have to speak
You've got the style it takes (kiss)
You've got the style it takes (eat)
I've got the style it takes (couch)
We've got the style it takes (kiss)

. . .


Since my baby left me,
I found a new place to dwell.
Down at the end of lonely street:
Heartbreak Hotel.

Oh Feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby, I could die.

The bell hop's tears keep flowin'
The desk clerk's dressed in black.
They been so long on lonely street
They never will get back.

Oh, Cause they're feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby, They could die.

So if your baby leaves you,
And you have a tale to tell
Why not just take a walk down lonely street
Straight to Heartbreak Hotel.

Where you could be so lonely
And I could be so lonely
We could be so lonely, we could die

. . .


Never win and never lose
There's nothing much to choose
Between the right and wrong
Nothing lost and nothing gained
Still things aren't quite the same
Between you and me

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine


I still hear your voice at night
When I turn out the light
And try to settle down
But there's nothing much I can do
Because I can't live without you
Any way at all

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

. . .


I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Baby I've been here before, I know this room
I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the Marble Arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above, all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who out drew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah

. . .


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