Music World
 
Find Artists:
 
 
 
Russian versionSwitch to Russian 
Clutch
Clutch




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  C  →  Clutch  →  Albums  →  From Beale Street To Oblivion

Clutch Album


From Beale Street To Oblivion (03/27/2007)
03/27/2007
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
. . .


Yes, I’ll be a responsible member
of this great and bless’d society.
I’ve come to understand the wrongful nature
of gun ownership in the age of monarchy.
But sometimes it’s just so hard
to act like the person you weren’t born to be.

Felonious behavior. Countless misdemeanors.
Impersonating an officer of the law.

Bonafide man of action! How you like that?
Bonafide man of action! How you like that?
You can’t stop, you can’t stop progress.
You cant’s stop, you can’t stop, no, no, no
You can’t stop, you can’t stop progress.
You cant’s stop, you can’t stop, no, no, no.

I understand there’s no victimless crimes.
That being said I feel rather victimized.
And I will seek substantial compensation.
Whether legally, legal-ish, or otherwise.
But sometimes it’s such a hassle
to sit patiently outside the open gates of a loaded castle.

Felonious behavior. Countless misdemeanors.
Impersonating an officer of the law.

Bonafide man of action! How you like that?
Bonafide man of action! How you like that?
You can’t stop, you can’t stop progress.
You cant’s stop, you can’t stop, no, no, no
You can’t stop, you can’t stop progress.
You cant’s stop, you can’t stop, no, no, no.

. . .


Diplomatically, emphatically deny
any prior knowledge shape or kind.
You don’t know nothing about a Russian hooker.
Some bloke broke in and straight up took her.
Western European journalists, devious little monkeys,
They’re bloody relentless.
Call the consulate, and burn the evidence,
Don’t speak another word, just burn the evidence.

I’m not giving you attitude, I just want another drink.
I don’t care about the altitude, I just want another drink.

Get your hands off me, you don’t know who I am.
I’m a power player, I’m a power player.
Get your hands off me, you don’t know who I am.
I’m a power player, I’m a power player.

You can always tell the terrorist by his cologne and the watch on his wrist.
It says I’m the type of man that can kick off anywhere, kick off anywhere.

I’m not giving you attitude, I just want another drink.
I don’t care about the altitude, I just want another drink.

Movers, shakers, money makers, deal breakers, and dogs,
In this game you’ve got to lose a couple of your pawns.

I’m not giving you attitude, I just want another drink.
I don’t care about the altitude, I just want another drink.

Movers, shakers, money makers, deal breakers, and dogs,
In this game you’ve got to lose a couple of your pawns.

. . .


The devil and me had a falling out.
Violation of contract beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Wherever he go, whomever he meet.
He got to cross my house on the other side of the street.

And you know that’s the truth. Now here’s the part that the devil sings while he’s
hanging his head in a hard rain:

Where I’m headed, I don’t know.
Down this path, we all go.
Grace and luck, blood from stone.
Got nowhere to call my home.

What comes around goes around three-fold or more.
Now you can’t get off of that killing floor.

I’m going back to Tennessee, back where I come from.
Gonna head back to Beale Street, Beale Street and Oblivion.

The devil and me, bad blood and beef.
An undisciplined child, a liar and a thief.
It’s a low down shame, we were the best of friends.
But I suppose all good things got to come to an end.

What comes around goes around three-fold or more.
Now you can’t get off of that killing floor.

I’m going back to Tennessee, back where I come from.
Gonna head back to Beale Street, Beale Street and Oblivion.
I’m going back to Tennessee, back where I come from.
Gonna head back to Beale Street, Beale Street and Oblivion.

Gotta get off of that killing floor.

. . .


Only the dirt I do believe.
As memory vanishes among the leaves.

Wizard of tickets is always glad to charge a pilgrim’s fare.
Jubilee’s generally early. Let’s take the country air.
Mistreating granite, limestone, and clay. It’s a shameful soil.
But all grows well on the floodplain tract if you can afford the toil.

Cradled in ivy, we will allow
the moss to prosper upon our brows.

Boxer rebellion, the Holy Child. They all pay their rent.
But none together can testify to rhythm of a road well bent.
Saddles and zip codes, passports and gates, the Jones’ keep.
In August the water is trickling, in April it’s furious deep.

Wizard of tickets is always glad to charge a pilgrim’s fare.
Jubilee’s generally early. Let’s take the country air.
Mistreating granite, limestone, and clay. It’s a shameful soil.
But all grows well on the floodplain tract if you can afford the toil.

Only the dirt I do believe.
Divinity vanishes among the leaves.

. . .


Child of the city, Mother of the Earth
Baptism by firefly, pinch a parson’s purse.

Queen of Cups the Joker’s blade is old and dull.
Child of the City
Yet it slices us with the nicest miracles.

Babe in the Wilderness, Father of Creation,
Spinning of the wind, the gathering of nations.

Professor on the Toadstool convene your class.
Babe in the wilderness.
In absentia, please show your hands.
And your feet. Are you touched by a beast?
Wash yourself, live your life. Take the Earth as your wife.

False idol raiser, play the town.
Count up your blessings and melt it down.

Immortal Dominator. Governor of the World.
Sic semper tyrannis. The Fisher and the Pearl.

The bearer of this letter is a charlatan.
Immortal Dominator.
In absentia, please show your hands and your feet
And your feet. Are you touched by a beast?
Wash yourself, live your life. Take the Earth as your wife.

False idol raiser, play the town.
Count up your blessings and melt it down.
All your money now, kid. All your money now, kid.
All your money now, kid. All your money.

. . .


Well you made me weak
And you made me bold
Well you cause me to leave, child
My happy home
But someday baby
You ain't a worry in my life

Anymore

I get satisfaction
Everywhere I go
Wear it in my hand
That's what I call home
Wear the bearer prize
all the mission stale
take tomorrow's column
give them back the lamb


Bang Bang Bang Bang
Vamanose, Vamanose
Bang Bang Bang
Vamanose Vamanose

You told everybody
In the neighborhood
What I done to mistreat her
That I was no good
But Someday Baby
You aint a worry in my life

Anymore

Doctor or Lawyer
I'll never be
I'm a drifter
The only life for me
You can have your riches
And all the gold you save
Aint room for one thing
In everybody's grave

Bang Bang Bang Bang
Vamanose, Vamanose
Bang Bang Bang
Vamanose Vamanose

If I had money
Like Henry Ford
Lord, I'd have me a woman
Yeah
On every row
But someday baby
You aint a worry in my life

Anymore

Invitation of attorneys
Directly up ahead
Cash in at the corener
Piles of stingray
I get satisfaction
everywhere I go
One thing baby
Worry me no more!

Bang Bang Bang Bang
Vamanose, Vamanose
Bang Bang Bang
Vamanose Vamanose

. . .


I been working, one eye dollar, by and by, Lord, by and by.
I got the plans to the Oval office, by and by, Lord, by and by.

In the inner chambers of the president
You will find no crosses only pentagrams.
1600, all the way! That’s right brother, all the way!
1600, today’s our day!

I been working, one eye dollar, by and by, Lord, by and by.
I got the plans in my front pocket, by and by, Lord, by and by.

I been working like a pack mule every day.
And to think that some of it ends up that way.
1600, all the way! That’s right brother, all the way!
1600, today’s our day!

. . .


Went to the doctor, to see what could be given.
He said, “Sorry, but you’ve got to do your own livin’.”
Went to the pastor, to hear what he would say.
He said, “Sorry, son, come back later some time after judgment day.”

There is no safe way out of here. No passage below the dungeon.
No mother ship will save you. So goes the rapture of Riddley Walker.

Churchyard was empty, schoolyard was bare.
Wind in the streets, wind in the air.
Pockets of diamonds, nothing to buy.
Scream out hello and get no reply.
Victims of zombies convene in the park
While any man with dignity makes an easy mark.
Heaven is a long ways away. Heaven is a long, long, long, long ways away.

There is no safe way out of here. No passage below the dungeon.
No mothership will come save you. The rapture of Riddley Walker.

How many-cools of Addom? Party cools of stone?
Hart of the wood shadder. Eusa roam.

Drop-John been climbing on Riddley’s back. Follow the power, a natural fact.
Orfing & Ardship, hardship is plain. Hardly Goodparley is ever the same.
Shadows and phantom’s convene in the snow.
Among the low whispers are voices you know.
Heaven is a long ways away. Heaven is a long, long, long, long ways away.

There is no safe way out of here. No passage below the dungeon.
No mothership will come save you. The rapture of Riddley Walker.

How many-cools of Addom? Party cools of stone?
Hart of the wood shadder. Eusa roam.

. . .


How’s that hardcore fanzine? Still take the piss?
Y and T got records, demos on cassette.
Summer of the seven inch. Too cool for school.
Manifestoes at Kinko’s, pinko commies play no fools.

I feel the spirit moving over me.
There are clouds beneath my feet.

When vegans attack on ten speed bikes.
Tattoos with meaning, American Spirit Lights.

It’s hard to smoke ‘em when you got to be runnin’
Congressional and D.C.P.D.
Lafayette Park undercovers,
The saddest sight you ever see, ever see.
Tear gas electric! You know I can’t quit this riot.
Strictly professional insurrectionist kid, and I can’t deny it.

I feel the spirit moving over me.
There are clouds beneath my feet.

When vegans attack on ten speed bikes.
Tattoos with meaning, American Spirit Lights .
Freshmen in fatigues. You know he’s fighting for his right.
Copious note taker. American Spirit Lights.

I feel the spirit moving over me.
I feel the spirit moving over me.
There are clouds beneath my feet.

When vegans attack on ten speed bikes.
Tattoos with meaning, American Spirit Lights .
Freshmen in fatigues. You know he’s fighting for his right.
Copious note taker. American Spirit Lights.

. . .


"In the early 1980s' my family lived in a typically terrible pre-planned suburban development called Montgomery Village. Our house bordered a historical town called Prathertown. Prathertown was a free town and I went to school with some Prathers. In the back end of Prathertown there was a lady who lived in a dilapidated home. She had cut outs of wild boars with bloody tusks on her roof, two impossibly colossal rocking chairs, and a collection of saints in her front yard. It was the house we all walked by a bit quicker."

I met a lady down in Prathertown, two rocking chairs.
She said take a seat boy and I’ll treat you fair.
Snake charmers cold infidels, get a running start.
Pick up the pieces in the graveyard and unbury my heart.
The wolf howls at midnight, the rooster at the dawn
Opossum minister where you been so long?
Montgomery Village kids, you just look like the type.
You sure you want to know the mysteries? You’re but a trifling height.
Families in their den, staring at the box
Opossum minister hen done killed the fox.
Eyes like clouds know you stare.
Count the minutes by the rocking of chairs.
Prathertown unincorporated,
May you stay far unrelated to the wicked ways of Montgomery Village.
There’s a darkness deep in their eyes, as if the sun don’t rise.
Those poor afflicted people of Montgomery Village
Fake farmers, straight Jezebels, you know the score.
Pick up the pieces in the graveyard and leave ‘em at the door.
The master-plan unfolds, silent sinister
LyricsIs there any hope left Opossum Minister?

Eyes like clouds know you stare.
Count the minutes by the rocking of chairs.
Prathertown unincorporated,
May you stay far unrelated to the wicked ways of Montgomery Village.
There’s a darkness deep in their eyes, as if the sun don’t rise.
Those poor afflicted people of Montgomery Village

Prathertown unincorporated,
May you stay far unrelated to the wicked ways of Montgomery Village.
There’s a darkness deep in their eyes, as if the sun don’t rise.
Those poor afflicted people of Montgomery Village

. . .


Money Mike, Pistol Pete
both went running down the street.
Police and snitches, lover’s lane.
Hot summer. Hot rain.
Hit the bricks.
The girl got her tricks.
She’s the Mississippi terror,
and there’s none the fairer.

O.T.B. was jammed.
Paper changing hands.
Nothing left but smoke and cellar
And a Woman with a black umbrella.

Little Lewis lost his shit.
10 to 1, couldn’t collect.
Fish Head Phil, Itchy Ike…
say they never got home that night.
Shake the breaker.
That girl ain’t no money maker.
She’s come to cook all the books,
and flaunt her good looks.

O.T.B. was jammed.
Paper changing hands.
Nothing left but smoke and cellar.
And a Woman with a black umbrella.

. . .


Has your child completed his or suspicious activity booklet?
Don’t let this summer go to waste.
The enemy is preparing their children are you?
Time to show them who’s boss.
Moloch demands fresh blood to maintain the appetite of his mechanical heart.
Will you sacrifice your first born like Abraham would his Isaac?
Will you sacrifice your first born like Abraham would his Isaac?

Tell me, why Dick Cheney underneath my bed?
Hell no that ain’t cool!
Tendin’ to the lips of a wooden head.
No sir, that ain’t cool.
Come on now take one for the team.
Stick it to the man, stick it to the man.
Raise the dagger high above Isaac
and drive down as hard as you can.

Shiny Master Caddylackness, haloes suit you well.
Stand fast, upset the system, so many tomorrows to sell.
Shiny Master Caddylackness, haloes suit you well.
Stand fast, upset the system, so many tomorrows to sell.

Mother, mother, don’t want to work on the farm no more.
Father, father, don’t want to wear you uniform.
Mary, Mary, keep me safe and comforted.
Father, father, raise that dagger above your head.

Shiny Master Caddylackness, haloes suit you well.
All goes exactly as planned so many tomorrows to sell.
Shiny Master Caddylackness, haloes suit you well.
Stand fast, upset the system, so many tomorrows to sell.

Shiny Master Caddylackness, haloes suit you well.
All goes exactly as planned so many tomorrows to sell.
Shiny Master Caddylackness, haloes suit you well.
Stand fast, upset the system, so many tomorrows to sell.

All you ready to prove your love to the Lord?
I said are you willing to prove your love to the Lord?
As Abraham handed down his first born on a stone.
Do you wonder what is right and what is wrong?

Shiny Master Caddylackness
Shiny Master Caddylackness
Shiny Master Caddylackness
Shiny Master Caddylackness

. . .


blog comments powered by Disqus



© 2011 Music World. All rights reserved.