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Альбом MGMT


Congratulations (13.04.2010)
13.04.2010
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Lady Dada's Nightmare (instrumental)
9.
*
Inbetween the Liners (iTunes bonus track)
. . .


Hear you forgot
So I can see your faces
The eyes are bright
How will I know if it's working right?

Light confuses
The tiny isles of bruises
The mangled life
I see the signs of aging

And if I try to feel it all
I am deceived
My minds affected
It's empty now
It's all laid down
I feel alright
My heart is racing

Turn the noise on
I'd like to feed my poison
Assembly lines
Killing the velvet warning

To the yard
It's just like striking matches
The polished lives

But its working in the blood (working in your blood)
But you know its not the same as love
Love is only in your mind (only in your mind)
Not your heart

[Repeat]

. . .


He spends his time
or maybe half of his time
or part of the time wandering
'round the creeks and cobble stones of hackney lanes
with a tear in his eye
as the children walk by, he's thinking of a song
then stops to paint a picture of a frown
walking around
Dan Treacy's smile
leaves you trying to decide who's the victim, what's the crime?
no rest for the mind
that's seen it all before
and I don't know where he lives
but he's a myth of a man
and TexasBob the cameraman
is off to fix his sit before the show
yeah, but where did he go?
to know when your time's up
you flip the glass and watch the hours quickening
oh oh oh oh oh
in the back of the station
fluorescent lights about to quit their flickering
well he speaks his mind
he says "what is crime?"
Dan Treacy's eyes
In the middle of the park
when the underground is dark,
he's a poet he's a lark
he starts thinking about a place that no one knows
and when the creeks run dry
he stays frozen in time
strange lights in the sky
start blinking
I can see the car outside but he's listening
he's listening
and he's making up his mind
He made his mind up
to get things done and overcome
He made his mind up
yeah he's gonna let it go
he made his mind up
in the park and at the station
he made his mind up
yeah, he's gonna get it done
he made his mind up
ooh yeah he's gonna get it done
he made his mind up
yeah, he's gonna let it go, uh oh
no matter the time
oh oh
when the creeps run by
oh no
he's making his mind up
oh oh oh oh
yeah he's gonna get it done whoa
oh yeah, when the creeks run dry whoa oh
yeah, he's gonna listen to his soul,
yeah, when the creeps walk by and say
"come here boy, look me in the eye"
bow to the heart, back to the beat of
Dan Treacy.....

. . .


Someone's telling the toll to me
I'm cut and I'm weeping like a rubber tree
but I don't care who's left behind
lost revelations that I'll never find

in the long hall pipes are whispering
blues prepared for anti-christening

somewhere there's an honest soul
to mirror teeth where neon lures troll
and what's extinct might come alive
a purple smoke in some internal shrine

with a long sigh let the hissing in
stones deformed by gentle kissing and
all the closed eyes start to glisten
but it feels like someone's missing
yeah it feels like someone's missing

. . .


Mild apprehension
Blank dreams of the coming fun
Distort the odds of a turnaround
Gut screams out next to none

So turn it on, tune it in
And stay inert

You say "I've got the backbone"
the back way to escape the gun
Climbing a tree with a missing limb
And not saving anyone

And now it hurts to stay at home
and see flash the mirror ball's throwing mold
you can't get a grip if there's nothing to hold
see the flash catch a white lily laugh and wilt
but if you must smash a glass first fill it to the hilt

Plants, as far as i know are still,
still bending toward the light
and if we dance
until the heart explodes
it'll make this place ignite
and even if this hall collapses
I can stand by my pillar of hope it's just
a case of Flash delirium

Here's a growing culture
Deep inside a corpse
Ages stuck together
Takin it to the source
Timeless desperation
Pictures on a screen scream
"Hey people, what does it mean?"

Comfort keeps us nice
So quick to donate everything
die wolken drifting blinding smiles circling (einkreisen)
and time's tingling spines
attaching hands to floor
the rosy-tinted flash

The hot dog's getting cold
and you'll never be as good as the Rolling Stones
watch the birds in the airport gathering dirt
crowd the clean magazine chick lifting up her skirt

(why close one eye and try to
pledge allegiance to the sun
when plastic ghosts start terrorizing everyone
geometric troops aligning
carried up to the burial mounds
my earthbound heart is heavy
your heartbeat keeps things light
with the violence forever threatening the night
and even if this hall collapses
I can stand by my pillar of hope and trust)
lines when I close my eyes and just
aim blindly at the sun
and hear love
when the ghosts start singing terrorizing everyone
geometric troops aligning
carried up to the burial mounds with gold
it's a heavy load but your
you rhythm makes it light and explode
like a violent star keeps threatening the night
and even if this hall collapses
I can stand by my pillar of hope and trust
that our heads won't bust

66 55 red battleships
40 earthlike planets
3 holes 2 tits
1 fork in its side
zero tears in their eyes

sue the spiders
sink the Welsh
stab your facebook
sell sell sell
undercooked
overdone
mass adulation not so funny
poisoned honey
pseudo science
silly money
you're my honey

. . .


Hey I found a whistle that hangs like a charm
and when my noose is tied I could blow it
and fall down into your arms
15 centuries of dissolution and grief
to return a yellow trickster and a thief

Yeah I found a whistle that works every time
that's when the trail escapes to nowhere
and the flood erases the crime
such conviction
to paint all the wall with the blood
of the young and the faithful and the good

Yeah I found a whistle as thin as a sheet
to split the dumbness of a vision
between asleep and a sleep
tiny axes
repeatedly raising the flag
all ignored, real emotion's such a drag

Hey I've got a pistol that's aimed at your heart
and on dark nights when the moon is right
I could show you
the head attached with a scarf
aerophane sorceress, at home obeying the fates
when it's gone, has it gone all the way?

This time
found a whistle
that works every time
Yeah, I found a whistle
that works
hangs like a charm
Yeah, found a whistle
that works every time
Yeah, I found a whistle
that works
closes my mind every time
a whistle
I've got it,
I've got it,
this time

. . .


Sleep as the goer
The bridge that watches the light-speed through
And cries while the spirit stumbles
The inside missile for the protection of you

Maybe it's silent
The voice can't bear anymore strain
But speaks without even knowing
And streams outside in the direction of truth

There's no reason, there's no secret to decode
If you can't save it, leave it dying on the road
Wide open arms can feel so cold
So cold, feel so cold

Balance the books, the ledges, the loons
The disappointed look on the faces that squint at the moon
Let's see it, with shadows enhance
And then vote to decide who'll advance

Silver jet plane making a turn
Exciting the brain that expects it to crash and then burn
It's not the life lesson I'd have guessed
If you're conscious you must be depressed or at least cynical

But someone might still eat the steaks
Even if they're tough
Spending the day chewing the fat
Floating away isn't rough but it's not enough

Oh Marianne, pass me the joint
The sandpaper's tan
Go-getters are surfing the point
And London's a catch on the lens
It's over before it begins

Silk 'round her neck falls down to her shoulders
The older I get, the more I suspect there's a trick
But really there's no trip at all
That doesn't result in a fall or a faltering

But something could spit out the bait
Even if it's real, rolling away missing a spoke
Close to the ground like a wheel
But it's not a joke

Holding the line, clutching the phone
Nobly wasting the night but it isn't right
It's not right smelling for blood, praying for rain
Running away isn't rough but it's not enough

The low tide is telling me when it's over
To breathe in everything exposed
And comes back to cover me with a blanket
Being here's always changing tunes

The empty sky surrounds me but I can't see at all
Wide open arms can feel so cold
And you can sit beside me and tell me what it's worth
But I hope I die before I get sold
I hope I die before I get sold
I'd rather die before I get sold

If you find the soul that you lost
Frozen in a starry void
Take it within and hope the sight of blood
Can will signs of life to return

Back to the way that it was
Long before it made a noise
To keep on quietly reminding you
What's never created or destroyed

Wake as the swell peaks
The close-outs drowning the birds with roars
And howls scare the new unkindness
That picks and laughs at the carrion scene

Forces you see
Breath can always go into hiding
And wait 'til it passes over
Or stay far gone for all eternity

. . .


So tired
Soul searching
I followed the sounds to a cathedral
imagine my surprise to find that they were produce by Brian Eno

past the gates
quite stark
the roses trimmed and the windows dark
I see the walls through a limestone crack
not red not blue not yellow but black
and all the space left for you
if the sky was synthesized you'd probably know

he taught me many things
the wisdom of o bleak stratagems
the prophet of a sapphire soul
presented through creative freedoms
and everything i say is true
cuz if i was telling lies it'd probably show

i can tell that he's kind of smiling
but what does he know?
we're always one step behind him, he's Brian Eno
Brian Eno

when I was stuck he'd make me memorize elaborate curses
tinctures and formulas to ditch the choir and flip the verses
my whole foundation came unglued
when i tried to humanize by ambient light
dipping swords in metaphors yeah but what does he know?
he's go the whole world behind him he's Brian Eno
Brian Eno!

he promised pretty worlds and all the silence
I could dream of Brian peter George St John Le
Baptiste De La Salle Eno

well all alone by the oldest stone where the shade
trees grow the creature by the water feature with a
ghostly glow making sure that time's preserved
well we reap what we sow he's go the whole
world behind him he's Brian Eno etc. etc.

. . .

Lady Dada's Nightmare

[Нет текста]

. . .


Dead in the water
It's not a paid vacation
The sons and daughters
Of city officials attend demonstrations
It's hardly sink or swim
When all is well if the tickets sell

Out with the whimper
It's not a blaze of glory
You look down from your temple
As people endeavor to make it a story
And chisel a marble word
but all is lost if it's never heard

But I've got someone to make reports
And tell me how my money's spent
To book my stays and draw my blinds
So I can't tell what's really there
And all I need's a great big congratulations

I'll keep your dreams
You pay attention for me
As strange as it seems,
I'd rather dissolve
Than have you ignore me
The ground may be moving fast
But I tied my boots to a broken mast

The difference is clear
You throw it in your cauldron
Rust and veneer, dusk and dawn
Steinways and Baldwins
you start with a simple stock
of all the waste and salt to taste

But damn my luck and damn these friends
That keep on combing back their smiles
I save my grace with half-assed guilt
And lay down the quilt upon the lawn
Spread my arms and soak up

. . .

Inbetween the Liners

[Нет текста]

. . .


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