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Tom Waits
Tom Waits


Информация
Настоящее имя Thomas Alan Waits
Дата рождения 7 декабря 1949 г.
Место рождения Pomona, California, United States
Жанры Rock
Experimental
Годы 1972—н.в.
Лейблы Island Records
Asylum Records
ANTI-
Сайт Website



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  T  →  Tom Waits  →  Дискография  →  Bounced Checks

Альбом Tom Waits


Bounced Checks (1981)
1981
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liar liar with your pants on fire, white spades hangin' on the telephone
wire, gamblers reevaluate along the dotted line, you'll never recognize
yourself on heartattack and vine.

doctor lawyer beggar man thief, philly joe remarkable looks on in disbelief,
if you want a taste of madness, you'll have to wait in line, you'll probably
see someone you know on heartattack and vine.

boney's high on china white, shorty found a punk, don't you know there ain't
no devil, there's just god when he's drunk, well this stuff will probably kill
you, let's do another line, what you say you meet me down on heartattack and
vine.

see that little jersey girl in the see-through top, with the peddle pushers
sucking on a soda pop, well i bet she's still a virgin but it's only twenty-
five 'til nine, you can see a million of 'em on heartattack and vine.

better off in iowa against your scrambled eggs, than crawling down cahuenga
on a broken pair of legs, you'll find your ignorance is blissful every goddamn
time, your're waitin' for the rtd on heartattack and vine.


. . .



got no time for the corner boys, down in the street makin' all that noise,
don't want no whores on eighth avenue, cause tonight i'm gonna be with you.

cause tonight i'm gonna take that ride, across the river to the jersey side,
take my baby to the carnival, and i'll take you on all the rides, sing sha la
la la la la sha la la la.

down the shore everything's alright, you with your baby on a saturday night,
don't you know that all my dreams come true, when i'm walkin' down the street
with you, sing sha la la la la la sha la la la.

you know she thrills me with all her charms, when i'm wrapped up in my
baby's arms, my little angel gives me everything, i know someday that she'll
wear my ring.

so don't bother me cause i got no time, i'm on my way to see that girl of
mine, nothin' else matters in this whole wide world, when you're in love with
a jersey girl, sing sha la la la la la la.

and i call your name, i can't sleep at night, sha la la la la la la.


. . .



nighthawks at the diner
of Emma's 49er, there's a rendezvous
of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
all the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs
now the paper's been read
now the waitress said

CHORUS
eggs and sausage and a side of toast
coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
chile in a bowl with burgers and fries
what kind of pie?

In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade
2 for a quarter, dime for a dance
with Woolworth rhinestone diamond
earrings, and a sideway's glance
and now the register rings
and now the waitress sings

CHORUS

the classified section offered no direction
it's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
now the touch of your fingers
lingers burning in my memory
I've been 86ed from your scheme
I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair
as the lead pipe morning falls
and the waitress calls

CHORUS


. . .



stop me if you've heard this one
i feel as though we've met before
perhaps i'm mistaken
but it's just that i remind you
of someone you used to care about
but that was long ago
do you think i'd fall for that
i wasn't born yesterday
besides i never talk to strangers anyway

i ain't a bad guy when you get to know me
i just thought there ain't no harm
hey just try minding your own business
bud who asked you to annoy me
with your sad repartee
besides i never talk to strangers anyway

your life's a dimestore novel
this town is full of guys like you
and you're looking for someone to take the place of her
and you're bitter cause he left you
that's why you're drinkin in this bar
well only suckers fall in love
with perfect strangers

it always takes one to know one stranger
maybe we're just wiser now
and been around the block so many times
that we don't notice
that we're all just perfect strangers
as long as we ignore
that we all begin as strangers
just before we find
we really aren't strangers anymore


. . .



The piano has been drinking, my necktie is asleep
And the combo went back to New York, the jukebox has to take a leak
And the carpet needs a haircut, and the spotlight looks like a prison break
And the telephone's out of cigarettes, and the balcony is on the make
And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking...

And the menus are all freezing, and the light man's blind in one eye
And he can't see out of the other
And the piano-tuner's got a hearing aid, and he showed up with his mother
And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking
As the bouncer is a Sumo wrestler cream-puff casper milktoast
And the owner is a mental midget with the I.Q. of a fence post
'Cause the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking...

And you can't find your waitress with a Geiger counter
And she hates you and your friends and you just can't get served without her
And the box-office is drooling, and the bar stools are on fire
And the newspapers were fooling, and the ash-trays have retired
'Cause the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me


. . .



well i come in on a night train
with an arm full of box cars
on the wings of a magpie
cross a hooligan night
and i busted up a chifforobe
way out by the cocomo
cooked up a mess a mulligan
and got into a fight

whistlin' past the graveyard
steppin' on a crack
i'm a mean motherhubbard
papa one eyes jack

you probably seen me sleepin'
out by the railroad tracks
go on and ask the prince of darkness
what about all thet smoke
come from the stack
sometimes i kill myself a jackel
suck out all the blood
steal myself a stationwagon
drivin' through the mud
whistlin' past the graveyard
steppin' on a crack
i'm mean motherhubbard
papa one eyed jack

i know you seen my headlights
and the honkin' of my horn
i'm callin' out my bloodhounds
chase the devil through the corn
last night i chugged the mississippi
now that suckers dry as a bone
born in a taxi cab
i'm never comin' home

whistlin' past the graveyard
steppin' on a crack
i'm mean motherhubbard
papa one eyed jack

myeyes have seen the glory
of the drainin' og the ditch
i only come to baton rouge
to find myself a witch
i'm-ona snatch me up a
couple of em every time itrains
you see a locomotive
probably thinkin' its a train

whistlin' past the graveyard
steppin' on a crack
i'm a mean motherhubbard
papa one eyed jack

what you think is the sunshine
is just a twinkle in my eye
that ring around my fingers
just the 4th of july
when i get a little bit lonesome
and a tear falls from my check
theres gonna be an ocean in
the middle of the week

whistlin' past the graveyard
steppin' on a crack
i'm mean motherhubbard
papa one eyed jack

i rode into town on a night train
with an arm full of box cars
on the wings of a magpie
cross a hooligan night
i'm-ona tear me off a rainbow
and wear it for a tie
i never told the truth
so i can never tell a lie

whistlin' past the graveyard
steppin' on a crack
i'm mean motherhubbard
papa one eyed jack


. . .


(previously unreleased)

Mr. Henry stumbles home
When the evening's done
He's as poor as a church mouse
High on the Meyer's rum
Tugging at his shirttail
Jiggling a church key
Chewing on a toothpick
On another binge
Trampling the rosebush
Whistin' to himself...
Now don't wake up the neighbours
Spitting on the hinge
Rattling the milkbottles
Tripping on a skate
Hidin' from the Newsboys
Before it's too late
The Screen door's open
Don't make no noise in the Kitchen
Got no excuse
For a cold, grey wife that starts bitchin'
That the no good bum's at it again
After she's given him
The best years of her life
He'll tell her he was celebrating
Savage's divorce
Played a hunch out at Yonkers
You can never trust a horse
And thrown in jail
Swore he'd never do these things again
He's got an alibi
But never tells her where he's been

"Henry! Henry!"

. . .



Well these diamonds on my windshield
And these tears from heaven
Well I'm pulling into town on the Interstate
I got a steel train in the rain
And the wind bites my cheek through the wing
And it's these late nights and this freeway flying
It always makes me sing

There's a Duster tryin' to change my tune
He's pulling up fast on the right
Rolling restlessly by a twenty-four hour moon

And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head
He's wishing he was home in a Wiscosin bed
But there's fifteen feet of snow in the East
Colder then a welldigger's ass
And it's colder than a welldigger's ass

Oceanside it ends the ride with San Clemente coming up
Those Sunday desperadoes slip by and cruise with a dry back
And the orange drive-in the neon billin'
And the theatre's fillin' to the brim
With slave girls and a hot spurn bucket full of sin

Metropolitan area with interchange and connections
Fly-by-nights from Riverside
And out of state plates running a little late

But the sailors jockey for the fast lane
So 101 don't miss it
There's rolling hills and concrete fields
And the broken line's on your mind
The eights go east and the fives go north
And the merging nexus back and forth
You see your sign, cross the line, signalling with a blink

And the radio's gone off the air
Gives you time to think
And you hear the rumble
As you fumble for a cigarette
And blazing through this midnight jungle
Remember someone that you met
And one more block; the engine talks
Whispers 'home at last'
It whispers 'home at last'
Whispers 'home at last'
It whispers 'home at last'
Whispers 'home at last'

And there are diamonds on my windshield
And these tears from heaven
Well I'm pulling into town on the Interstate
I got me a steel train in the rain
And the wind bites my cheek through the wing
Late nights and freeway flying
Always makes me sing
It always makes me sing

(Hey look here Jack, ok)


. . .


Licorice tattoo turned a gun metal blue
Scrawled across the shoulders of a dying town
The one eyed jacks across the railroad tracks
And the scar on its belly pulled a stranger passing through
He was a juvenile delinquent never learned how to behave
But the cops would never think to look in Burma-shave

And the road was like a ribbon
And the moon was like a bone
He didn't seem to be like any guy she'd ever known
He kinda looked like Farley Granger with his hair slicked back
She says I'm a sucker for a fella in a cowboy hat
How far are you going he said depends on what you mean
He says I'm only stopping here to get some gasoline
I guess I'm going that way just as long as it's paved
I guess you'd say I'm on my way to Burma-shave

And with her knees up on the glove compartment
She took out her barrettes
And her hair spilled out like rootbeer
And she popped her gum and arched her back
Hell Marysville ain't nothing but a wide spot in the road
Some nights my heart pounds just like thunder
Don't know why it don't explode
Cause everyone in this stinking town has got one foot in the grave
And i'd rather take my chances out in Burma-shave

Presley's what I go by why don't you change the station
Count the grain elevators in the rearview mirror
She said, Mister anywhere you point this thing
Has got to beat the hell out of the sting
Of going to bed with every dream that dies here every mornin
And so drill me a hole with a barber pole
I'm jumping my parole just like a fugitive tonight
Why don't you have another swig
And pass that car if you're so brave
I wanna get there before the sun comes up in Burma-shave

And the spider web crack and the mustang screamed
Smoke from the tires and the twisted machine
Just a nickel's worth of dreams
And every wishbone that they saved
Lie swindled from them on the way to Burma-shave

And the sun hit the derrick and cast a bat wing shadow
Up against the car door on the shot gun side
And when they pulled her from the wreck
You know she still had on her shades
They say that dreams are growing wild just this side of Burma-shave

. . .


Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did, I've got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me

I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English, and everything's broken, and my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me

Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab's parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open,
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill's I staggered, you'd bury the dagger
In your silhouette window light
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs,
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows, go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me

No, I don't want your sympathy, the fugitives say
That the streets aren't for dreaming now
And manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories,
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me

And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor,
And the old men in wheelchairs know
And Matilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred,
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me

And it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace,
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on an
Old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers
And goodnight to Matilda, too

. . .


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