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Music World  →  Lyrics  →  C  →  Clutch  →  Albums  →  Strange Cousins From The West

Clutch Album


Strange Cousins From The West (07/14/2009)
07/14/2009
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Every last blind pulled when I walk down the street.
The only sound I hear is my tired heartbeat.
Sometimes I feel just like a motherless child.

This place once had a name.
The people once had faces.
In every town I find it's the same sad situation.
Sometimes I feel just like a countryless man.

My father tried to break me, my mother she tried to raise,
The county correct me from my wild ways.

I once saw figures about a mile off.
So I waited in the woods until they were gone.
Sometimes I feel just like a wandering dog.

My father tried to break me, my mother she tried to raise,
The county correct me from my wild ways.

. . .


Struck down by a vision of beauty
Said I was struck down by a long legged archer
Oh the city was hot, but my blood ran cold
Oh, the city went dark, keep calm and carry on.
I was a young man, only 19 years old.
I was a young man so very far away from home.

Ah she got me, struck down, right through the heart, struck down.
Ah she shot me, struck down, right through the heart, struck down.

Keep calm and carry on, reefer madness quiets the falling bomb.

I want to be an old man, damn you, von Braun.
I've been laid low by a blinding light.
I've been torn asunder by the banshee's wail.

Ah she got me, struck down, right through the heart, struck down.
Ah she shot me, struck down, right through the heart, struck down.

Keep calm and carry on, reefer madness quiets the falling bomb.

I was a young man, only 19 years old.
I was a very young man so very far away from home.
I was imprisoned by a vision of beauty.
I was struck down by the long legged archer.

Keep calm and carry on, reefer madness quiets the falling bomb.

. . .


Airstreams tethered together like silver sleeping oxen
All the best locations are located on the margins
Suited for telescoping the interstellar scene
It's a mean killer in the daylight, but that's life for you and me
It's a reliable source of information.
Fifty thousand unstoppable watts.

Anthrax, ham radio, and liquor.

What if I told you they been lying
About that double wide with water rights?
And now the town cars are back again!
They sold you some old line
About the greater good and sacrifice
Your friends from Langley are back again!
It's a reliable source of information
Fifty thousand unstoppable watts.

Anthrax, ham radio, and liquor.
Coming at you live!

It's just some people can only see the stars
In the reflection from big black cars.
It's a reliable source of information
Fifty thousand unstoppable watts.

. . .


Oh Abraham Lincoln, carried across the street.
Oh Abraham Lincoln, carried across the street.
The assassin, the coward,
shot him in the head.
The assassin, the serpent,
Struck him then he fled.

Oh many many many people, gather to hear the word.
Oh many many many people, tremble at what they've heard.
Snickering, drunkards, from cover of dark.
Treachery's their master,
murder is their heart.

From the table, rips his chair.
Cross the people on the stairs.
Watch the limbs running for.
All across a empty bar.

Oh Abraham Lincoln, buried him in his grave.
Oh Abraham Lincoln, buried him in his grave.
The assassin, the coward, no grave for you.
The assassin, the actor, no cross for you.

From the table, rips his chair.
Cross the people on the stairs.
Watch the limbs running for.
All across a empty bar.

. . .


In a city of crooked alleys,
Crookeder women and wicked men.
Dim lamps in the rumor mill
Suspicious kith and unkind kin
Haruspectre General
Sleeping soldiers in the field
Below the elders conspire
To turn the merciless and massive wheel

Strange cousins from the west overstay their welcome

Locked in among skeletons
Broken hearted and damned
Sorry to have to break it to you friend
But life seldom goes exactly as we plan
Strange cousins from the west overstay their welcome
Peculiar manner and strange dress
Who will ever dare to tell them?

The city’s always thriving
Hungry bellows of the Minotaur
Everyday more are arriving,
And everyday it requires more

Unexpected circumstance
We must not delay
You have all been so very very kind to us
And we will return the favor one day.
Fate is the idiot’s excuse!
Freedom is the sucker’s dream!
But we hope you find some measure of comfort
In considering us to be your family
Strange cousins from the west overstay their welcome
Peculiar manner and strange dress
Who will ever dare to tell them?

. . .


In the raining park the chessmen play,
The faithful atheists refuse to pray,
The steam-works weep, the addicts do not care,
Crowd of cold people stand by and stare

The garbage eaters, their many retainers
Come to collect all the foul remainders
The smoke hangs heavy, the wrecking ball swings
In the clockwork of a collapsing thing

Wasted plastic empire's golden age, chemical wedding
Citizens in their refineries cheer the nuptial bedding
The hourglass is turning

On a shore of iron, cutters, and clippers
Paper, rock, rock, paper, and scissors
On a road of skulls their story moves on
It's a bumpy ride and very, very, very long

In the blue sky the seagulls fly over garbage.
Are we the ocean? Are we the desert?
Are we the garbage? Who's to say?

. . .


In the mailbox what i find?
Pepco hello and no reply.
From Tecumseh, Michigan.
Urgent letter to a friend.
January 30th, at no cost.
Survive the fire with Mr. Frost.
The Mark, the Beast, Armageddon in the Middle East.
But while we still have the time,please tell me,

Witchdoctor!

With Babylonian passion they built a bridge to the sky.
Loaded it up with Mother Earth, never got to asking why.
In Babylonian fashion. that bridge fell down from the sky.
And they spent the next five thousand years.
Scratching their heads and wondering why.
Abundance in the end times, song and Praise!
The dough and the dead will both will be raised.
The Word The Law, Armageddon in America.
But why we still have the time, please tell me,

Witchdoctor!

. . .


I'm gonna move to the outskirts of town
Where none of your friends are hanging around
That's right, I'm gonna move to the other side of town
Where none of your business is hanging around

Woman, please let a poor man be. Let a poor man be
Columbia, girl, please let a poor man be. Let a poor man be

I'm gonna build a castle out of Goodyear tires,
Cinderblock and busted doors; that's where I'll retire.
Gonna dig a mote. Fill it up with ale.
Not much of a defense, I know, but the supply never fails.

When you come knocking all in tears wringing hands and genuflecting,
You'll understand that I am a busy man and my subjects demand my attention.
These walls don't build themselves and I am running out of time.
So if you desire anything else, you had better get in line.

. . .


What kind of ugly are they talking about?
It's just straight up cold evil.
What kind of nonsense are they going on about?
Do they suffer from the fever?
Nothing's gonna satisfy them
Till it all goes Chernobyl
No, nothing's ever really gonna satisfy them
Until the virus goes mobile.

If you didn't then well now you know
Outside is an army of antlers
I hate to say it but I told you so
Only the freaks have all the answers.

Red threat! Helicopters! Super-Mind-Control!
Stockholm Syndrome! Love your captors!
Uranium! Super-Mind-Control.
It's gonna rain, rain down in buckets.
Watch it happen, a natural fact.
They're gonna lose and their not gonna like it.
Watch it happen. Supernatural act.

. . .


Por favor, dejenme
o voy a enloquecer.
No soy quien para ser
todo lo que soy

Algo ha cambiado
que alucinado, quiero vivir.

Voy a ver, nacer el sol
en medio del camino
y tambien voy a nacer
de acuerdo a mi destino.

. . .


I send pictures through the mail
Well documented and very detailed
To politicians and big celebrities,
But none of them are believing in me
And I await their response
Some send none, most send cops
But man it's a dire situation
And I will risk the public humiliation

Sleestak lightning on my trail
It's a dire situation, they are on my trail

West Virginia has its Moth Man,
Pan handlers' got their Skunk Ape.
But I have a tazer and night vision goggles,
Costco rolls of black duct tape.
It's got red eyes, it's got razor claws,
It's got green skin, no it ain't a meth-head.
And after studying its behavior, objectively and critically,
I believe I have a reliable method

. . .


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