lyrics
ALL YOU WANT
there is no together and there is no apart
there is just the light and just the dark.
there is just the light and just the dark.
there are just the girls pretending that it hurts
and just the boys pretending not to have tried on their skirts.
just the boys pretending not to have tried on their skirts.
there are just the booze hounds, the pill poppers, the powder kids.
there are just the fast talkers, the ones that don’t know how to live.
there are just comic books kids, activists, and drunks,
and punks, and fucks who kick you in the stomach in the clubs.
we are trying to be one, be separate, just be...
we are failing daily, smashing up neon marquees
that once, when lit, used to read:
"i'm famous, i'm rich, i'm hot,
i'm made of knives, i'm in love, and i'm all you want."
and we are all one huge and appalling mass,
all swaying, wanting, promising: rubber, tits, and brass.
all swaying, wanting, promising: rubber, tits, and brass.
we are all forgivable, and lovable, and YES.
we are all the best, and all the worst, and all a fucking mess.
there are sweethearts, bullshit artists, politicians, and thugs.
and boys with scary eyes selling oriental rugs.
we all love the internet, love loving, love to cry.
we all show up in the night at old lover's bedsides.
we are trying to be one, be separate, just be...
we are failing daily, smashing up neon marquees
that once, when lit, used to read...
we are trying to be one, be separate, just be...
we are failing daily, smashing up neon marquees
that once, when lit, used to read:
"i'm famous, i'm rich, i'm hot,
i'm made of knives, i'm in love, and i'm all you want."
REAL GOOD MEN
i know some real good men, who think that they're so much less:
think that they're rock stars, or sex gods, or think that they're the best.
to tell a good man that he is just that
doesn't do much, but make him worse.
to know a man who is really good,
is nothing but the worst kind of curse.
i know some mighty fine men, who wear well-shined shoes,
but those are the kind of men who only bring bad news.
you spoon real good, you're not afraid to lose.
but you hate your mom and can't lay off the booze.
you love me for my flaws and make good art
but you think that you're jesus and you're falling apart.
yeah, so you’re awesome, top notch.
numero uno.
but you know it, and it shows.
and i hate your fucking ego.
and i hate your fucking ego.
and i hate your fucking ego.
i know some mighty fine men, who wear well shined shoes,
but those are the kind of men who only bring bad news.
you are the smartest man i've ever met.
but you can't love, or let go of the anger yet.
you are just like me, but the problem there you see
is that i'm pretty fucked and that's just how it has to be.
i know some real good men, who think they're so much less:
think they're rock stars, or sex gods, or think that they're the best.
i know some real good men, who think they're so much less:
think they're rock stars, or sex gods, or think that they're the best.
ANY OTHER WAY
end of something, end of something,
on a tuesday, in a note, babe, that i wrote, babe, to you.
you know the rules, you know the game,
what once was sacred now is profane.
it's a long story and you've heard it before,
about the color of the sky at the end of the war.
any other way
any other way
any other way
if you were a house, i would be your door,
if you were a john, i would be your whore,
you could buy a boat or i could have a child,
you could have a stroke or i could grow to be mild.
you could change your life, i could change my mind
i could give you half of everything that’s mine.
we could be okay, but that’s not the way you want it
you want it
any other way
any other way
any other way
if the wound won't heal, and if it was made by my hand
let’s just forget the other plans
but you remember that you were once my man
there are things a woman can not stand.
there are things a woman can not stand.
any other way
any other way
any other way
any other way
any other way
any other way
MOLLY (FOUR LETTERS)
molly walked down second ave.,
asked me for a smoke to give her.
but i was on my way uptown
had a letter to deliver.
it said, “hey,
i will apply my lip balm three times daily
and i will never think of you,
never wonder if we gave it up too soon.
if i was meant for you.
if i was meant for you, and no one else.”
it said, “hey,
when i grow up i'll be a movie star,
who never bleeds and cannot blink.
remember me for who i pretended to be,
and who i slept with,
and who i beat up.”
it said, “hey,
i am made, made of cotton,
only cotton. only cotton.
i am made of glass and glass
and glass and cotton too.”
molly walked down second ave.,
asked me for a smoke to give her.
but i was on my way uptown
had a letter to deliver.
it said, “hey,
i don't miss you in the mornings,
i've never ever missed you,
and i don't write you letters,
that i have to go uptown to deliver.”
i wish i had stayed with her.
i wish i had stayed and talked to molly.
told her cigarettes kill you.
told her second ave. is not a nice avenue.
i wish i had stayed.
i wish i had stayed with her.
because i don't even know who you are.
who you ever were.
NEW AND FUN
love songs are for suckers
and hard drugs are for lovers
cab rides are for junkies
and if you just would call me
we could drive out to the zoo
eat fondue and kiss under the bleachers
i'd pretend that we were friends
if you'd pretend that we were lovers.
BOMBS AWAY
this is five years and four thousand orgasms later,
we've killed all of the goths and we've killed all of the skaters.
we've run around naked and run around clothed
and i've broken my own heart and broken your nose.
this is our weapon made up of small gestures,
and sweat and love letters, gunpowder and hope.
this is our weapon and we will perfect it,
we will perfect it and let the thing blow.
there is no way to feel, or fall, or fade away
without losing days, and days, and days
until the days turn into years and
until all of the simple fears turn into complexes and conversations
about lesbian separatist spaces.
how long have we been yelling?
and what is it that you're trying to sell me?
i miss beds with girls whose little heads
were full of hopes of having a stronger constitution
and dreams about a revolution.
this is our weapon made up of small gestures,
and sweat and love letters, gun powder and hope.
this is our weapon and we will perfect it,
we will perfect it and let the thing blow.
EBONY (BREAD HELPS)
"ebony in bakery,
you have a call on line one"
i hope it's not about your husband
and i hope it's not about your son
ebony, i saw you with your cupcakes and your scones.
i'm sorry for your losses as i'm sure that you are
sorry for my own.
bread helps when you drink too much
bread helps with anxiety
bread helps with meat and cheese
bread helps when men leave
bread helps like women's words
bread helps though it sounds absurd
if all that we can ever be is a reflection of our histories
then you and i seem unlikely to be anything with clarity.
but ebony, there are people who have come back from worse than this
and your hands are strong,
and your heart is strong,
and you still have your faith in jesus.
ebony, now please don't cry, the customers won't buy
tear-stained cakes, or brownies baked with the glory of your misery.
ebony, remember me, but above that remember you,
remember about the baby,
remember everything you want to do.
you wanna build something
and i like that about you.
you build bread
i wish i did that too.
even if you do not think that it does.
bread helps
bread helps
bread helps when you drink too much
bread helps with anxiety
bread helps with meat and cheese
bread helps when men leave
bread helps like women's words
bread helps though it sounds absurd
ebony, take credit please for everything you do
take credit for what you've given
and believe it when they mumble their thank yous
take care to recognize that you are truly
a miracle every day,
a miracle every day,
even if you are truly miserable every day,
a miracle every day.
ALWAYS MEAN IT
i've watched you run the gamut from here to pennsylvania,
i've watched you run yourself into the ground,
i'd forgive you all your trespasses if you forgave me mine,
and i'd leave you in the dust if you'd just give me some more time.
but if you're willing to try, so am i.
if you're already gone it's okay,
i just wish that you had said goodbye.
women are cruel and love is grotesque
but you've already lost all your self respect
so build up your ego and tear down your heart
cause here's some advice i was told to impart:
run, don't walk; yell, don't talk,
don't try to understand; sit, don't stand,
eat meat off the bone, live in comfortable homes,
help, don't hurt; always flirt.
don't you get jaded, you jaded fuck,
just take all your chances, and ride the way home with your luck.
always mean it,
always mean it,
always mean it.
if you blame the boyfriend you're a shame,
and if you buy the bullshit you're to blame,
and if you do the hard work you're a grunt,
and if you leave me hanging you're a cunt.
but if you're willing to try, so am i.
if you're already gone it's okay,
i just wish that you had said goodbye.
i just wish that you had said goodbye.
i just wish that you had said goodbye.
MY FRIEND HAS A PROBLEM
i've always heard that you can't change a man, well, she can.
she can't make them happy and can't make them cool
but she can make them come and she can make them cruel,
she can make them come and she can make them cruel.
she romanticizes foreign cities, mexico, and paris, france.
she romanticizes punks, and gymnastics,
and boys from small towns who can dance.
she lives on the east coast, the weather is lousy,
but she loves the jews and the food.
her mother says, "darling, don't burn through your body"
her mother says, "don't be so rude."
she knew a boy once, and she was his audience,
he was a preacher on speed.
he said,
"we are the wild ones, twos, threes, and prodigal sons,
eaters, and weepers, sleepers, and killers,
lovers and dancers, and fuck you, seat fillers."
she said "i think you're crazy, but i love you baby"
and he said he'd have to agree,
so pick them a daisy on your walk down the hazy streets
that you once walked with me
love disappears so easily
love disappears so easily
"i think you're crazy, but i love you baby"
and he said he'd have to agree,
so pick them a daisy on your walk down the hazy streets
that you once walked with me.
love disappears so easily.
i think you're crazy, but i love you baby.
SWEAR TO GOD
a friend of mine went riding, took a car to a town,
bought a sandwich and a milkshake,
found a bench and sat down,
met some girlies and some fellas, made a new life
it's such a simple story, it'll make you think twice
about the trying and the doing that we do everyday,
and the caring and the working and the minimum wage
that you're making at your job and spending at the bar
it's just about leaving—you don't have to go very far.
'cause new york is a certain kind of sickness
and you've been ill
since far before you moved here,
but you can't get well
in a place that is proud of just how cold it can be
and of its brutality.
before my friend went riding, i asked her if it was
a possibility that it is just us;
just the boyfriends, and the babies,
just the subway, the scene, and the scabies.
and she said that while she knows that that might be the case
sometimes you can't enjoy the way our hands interlace
sometimes things are too hard and everything’s dark
sometimes we just got to blame new york.
'cause new york is a certain kind of sickness,
and you've been ill
since far before you moved here,
but you can't get well
in a place that is proud of just how cold it can be,
and of its brutality.
i swear to god it's not me,
it's new york.
i swear to god it's not me,
it's new york.
i swear to god it's not me,
i swear to god it's not me.
i swear to god it's not us
it's new york,
i swear to god it's not us
it's new york
i swear to god it's not us
i swear to god it's not us
i swear to god it's not us
A MILLION DIFFERENT YOUS
you sewed and i mowed around my dream house by the end of the road.
you and i almost survived, but there’s just so much two bodies can hold.
you are different in each line,
and in each year, and in each rhyme.
you and i don’t sympathize with elegant liberals or girl with pretty eyes.
i charmed and you harmed yourself and myself; set off all my alarms.
you are different in each line,
and in each year, and in each rhyme.
you smoked and i spoke too loud and too often and alienated your folks.
you strayed, but i stayed in my bedroom in my house far away.
you are different in each line,
and in each year and in each rhyme.
FUCK/SUCK?
i used to fuck but now i just suck
at living without loving men with meat on their thighs.
i used to rock, now i suck cock
but that's okay because your tops.
before there was you. i was melancholy blue
so were you, now we're two.
WHAT'S LEFT
this song will stop
at the end of the end of the end of the start,
of the last true beat of your heart.
we are what’s left of what’s right.
stuck in the valves of the heart
and cut in the lines of the brain.
drawn on the pores of the skin,
you’ve got no right to complain.
do you have anyone to blame?
we are what’s left of what’s right.
and i stomp my feet
and i look at the creases in their faces
and i cry because it leaves a hole that nothing replaces.
and there always will be more to say.
we are what’s left of what’s right.
this song begins
at the end of the end of the start
of the first real beat of your heart.
THE TRUTH
please remember the way the weather was.
please remember the sky and me because
i would hate to be the girl who has the dreams
about the boy who doesn't even sleep.
about the boy whose memories won't keep.
this is the truth, and i know it hurts your heart.
this is the truth, and i know it hurts your heart.
i don’t care what they say anymore
in fact, please leave through the front door.
i want everyone to see you as you claw
your way out of my life.
i hope you'll use a knife.
believe me, it'll be alright.
this is the truth, and i know it hurts your heart.
this is the truth, and i know it hurts your heart.
if there is no one listening to this song
who can tell me where we went wrong,
and who knows just how long
we've been addicted to television,
and spooning boys and car collisions—
then we all just might as well,
lay down our heavy hearts.
put on our shoes and depart.
‘cause this is the truth and i hope it hurts your heart.
POLLY-O
i was twelve years old and you were fourteen years old.
we liked eskimo kisses and running around in the cold.
you liked smoking pot and so did i.
you liked polly-o string cheese and i liked french fries.
oh, i wish things were simpler now.
i wish you were still around.
oh, i wish things were simpler now.
i wish you were still around.
you were mean, and i thought that was how it was supposed to be.
i was insecure and thought it was cool when you yelled belligerently.
oh, i wish things were simpler now.
i wish you were still around.
oh, i wish things were simpler now.
i wish you were still around.
so maybe, i am nostalgic for certain things i shouldn’t be
and perhaps, and perchance, you were an asshole to me.
you hit me hard, and called me fat.
and kissed my friend and killed my cat.
oh, things are different now.
i am glad you are not still around.
oh, things are different now.
i am glad you are not still around.
so this one time i fed you string cheese
and you fell down onto your knees.
it’s because it wasn’t the regular kind
it was enriched with cyanide.
oh, things are so much better now.
you are dead and therefore not around.
oh, things are just so perfect now,
now that you’re buried in the ground.
THIS IS MY ACCORDIAN
i always wanted a boy,
one who wasn't a toy.
i always wanted music,
beautiful music.
i always wanted everything i couldn’t have
but mostly i just wanted to hold your hand.
this is my accordion.
i always wanted a shtick.
a bed with a dick.
i always wanted a comfort
a place to come home to,
a face to come home to.
this is my accordion.
i’m not in love with your accordion or your charming moustache.
i’m in love with your eyes and your lower back.
so this is your song, like the one written by elton john.
to tell you that i love you and you're all that i need now.
if you'll allow.
this is my accordion.
UNNECESSARY REASSURANCE
you have always been fine without me.
you will meet short girls and buy them hats and give them scarves.
and i will move out west with my new shoes and buy that bar.
i won't need any money
i'll shake up some food from a guy i know, a short order chef
and no-one will ask me to come on back from way out west.
i'll build a house on the side of a hill,
i'll have too much good air and not enough time to kill.
i'll be okay. you'll be real good.
just remember to floss.
we'll do better, just remember
to pay your bills and take your vitamin pills.
when i go out to mountains
i'll meet handy men with holey jeans and i will start again.
i've always meant to learn embroidery
and to sing joyfully
and to drive stick and to shovel shit.
you'll be okay. i'll be real good.
just call your dad.
you'll be better, just remember
to pay your bills and take your vitamin pills.
so i'm moving myself out there.
i'll be moving much slower in the dry air.
new york will remain but only as a dream,
i'll forget all about her and about you and the scene.
ORIGAMI CRANES
you always sang the alphabet, and never smoked cheap cigars.
you told me i was beautiful, and that i would go far.
you said you’d fold me into origami cranes.
and i said if you did that i'd never again complain.
hey, pretty face, you might think i'm a sap.
but i want you in my mouth, and in my head, and in my lap.
you drove a volvo in winter,
but i was born in september.
you called me baby, remember?
it's true, i don’t have to pretend here.
hey, pretty face, you might think i'm a sap.
but i want you in my mouth, and in my head, and in my lap.
you knew you loved me
and i knew i could never be
the girl you needed, so i had to leave.
hey, pretty face, you might think i'm a sap.
but i want you in my mouth and in my head and in my lap.
ONLY LIVING
the only living boy in new york loves the only living girl
and maybe they will love each other forever,
but, today, they just can't pull their shit together.
you and she and he are really truly meant to be,
are meant to build yourselves a new monogamy,
and hate each other completely.
because hate is really true love, you know,
like coke is snow and coke is blow,
like oscar wilde said,
“art is only decadence, only purposelessness,
and it's the only thing of worth that is left.”
but in cases like mine,
and cases like yours,
there are things that remain true,
like reading a lover's diary is the wrong thing to do.
all those old pictures are not of and are not for you.
falling in love is about giving up on someone new.
today i am full of empty, and this is the best that i can do.
some nights i just want to say “darling,”
and drink white wine ‘til the morning.
tonight i am queen of procrastination
and simultaneous states of despair and elation.
tomorrow i won't be skinny and fit,
i'll be lonely and working and despite all of it
i will not be having a panic attack
i will be looking at porn and eating roast rack
of lamb with mint jelly that has been in the fridge
since the night that that pretty boy gave me his digits
but i was so drunk that i took off my clothes
at a party with hippies and violin-playing hoes,
and i lost that kid's number, and a lot of respect.
but i found that mint jelly and i'm eating it next.
but all of our songs and all the good nights,
don't stop me from thinking about all those fights.
there’s no point in holding onto you, if there’s nothing i can do.
i could sing for fifty years, still one hundred years too few.
this city is lost without you, and my crazies miss yours.
so come back, and lose track of what there isn't on ave. a.
what do you say?
SONG WITHOUT A TUNE
if we've been a song without a tune
then here's one for us, here's one for the moon.
come here, come here, come here, come here
but don't touch me
leave me alone, leave me alone,
i can't be trusted
of everyone i've done wrong,
i'm sorry most to you,
that's not exactly funny
and it's not exactly true
the truth of things is cars and bars
and each others families
the truth, if you please, is
leaning off of ledges and too much baggage
i don't know much but i know this much is true
all my wounds heal better when i'm around you
i would have stayed and played and taken trips
come to grips with everything that had happened
but in the end, let's not pretend it's not for the best
i need someone like me, someone selfish not selfless
someone like me, someone selfish not helpless
it looks like you were right to have expected the worst all along
but please, let's pretend that you were wrong
it looks like you were right to have expected the worst all along
but please, let's pretend that you were wrong
AT THE FUNERAL
when the man in the terrible black coat
mentioned those no longer with us,
i assumed he meant those who are now against us.
when the man in the terrible black coat
mentioned them, i thought about them deeply.
been thinking about them recently,
enemies are important to me.
i couldn't stop thinking of them
but when that man whispered “amen,”
the warm word he'd sent swelled up
and burst me out of my head.
my enemies can't save me, you left the world too early.
my enemies can't save me, you left the world too early.
my enemies can't save me, you left the world too early.
and i couldn't quite come to grips with it,
your elaborate and permanent retirement,
in this day of diatribe, most things go on too long.
in this age of possibility, you are impossibly gone.
there has been a forced ebbing of the tides,
even with the distractions that our enemies provide,
and certainly no lack of men in coats that fit them terribly,
you left, and on your way out, stuck the moon at three quarters,
you didn't only change me, you changed the waters.
you didn't only change me, you changed the waters.
your absence stopped the undertow
and no loss was ever again quite so.
when the man in the terrible black coat
mentioned those no longer with us,
i assumed he meant those who are now against us.
my enemies can't save me, you left the world too early
your enemies can't save you, you'll get left too.
your enemies can't save you, you'll get left too.
my enemies can't save me, you left the world too early
DO IT YOURSELF (AWFULLY US AGAINST THEM)
i have met a million women, who are begging and waiting and livid.
scores of strong and brilliant women, sick with men they cannot live in.
i have more faith in milling women than in man's attempts or god's.
i have faith in many things, ‘cause faith is key, weak or roughshod.
if we can't stop the flood, it may as well be pouring
each and every day we must wake up in the morning
and get ourselves out of bed and brush our own teeth—and that's not a tragedy, it's a relief.
when you finally find your safe smart someone, and you give yourself over to them,
you cannot forget to keep some of you, safer and smarter, in the luggage you don't use,
or the pockets of an old shirt, or even sew it into the hem.
‘cause sometimes people leave, and when they go they'll take you with them, if you let them.
if we can't stop the flood, it may as well be pouring
each and every day we must wake up in the morning
and get ourselves out of bed and brush our own teeth—and that's not a tragedy, it's a relief.
this is not a threat and this is not a warning,
each and every day we must wake up in the morning
and get ourselves out of bed and brush our own teeth—it's not a tragedy, it's a relief.