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Destroyer
Destroyer


Background information
Origin Vancouver, BC, Canada
Genre(s) Chamber Pop
Indie Rock
Years active 1995—present
Label(s) Merge Records
Associated acts Swan Lake
The New Pornographers
Hello, Blue Roses
Bonaparte
Members
Dan Bejar



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  D  →  Destroyer  →  Albums  →  Destroyer's Rubies

Destroyer Album


Destroyer's Rubies (2006)
2006
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Dueling cyclones jackknife.
They got eyes for your wife and the blood that lives in her heart.

Cast myself towards infinity.
Trust me, I had my reasons.
Had a dress for every season, it was worth it.
Pulled into town relatively free of hassle.
Secured a room at the castle, it paid for itself.
Checked out my surroundings, headed down to Thornton Park.
Find your way.
Discover that things are dark.
Shadowy figures babbling on about typical rural shit.
I wave bye to them in a modern way and increase my stay at the
dock of the bay.

Quiet, Ruby, someone's coming.
Approach with stealth.
Oh, it's just your precious American Underground
and it is born of wealth.
With not a writer in the lot.
Sapphires vie for your attention
Cheap dancers, they mean well in their way.
But Priest says - "Please, I can't stand my knees
And I can't bear her raven tresses (1)caught up in a breeze like that!"

Blessed doctor, do your worst.
Cut me open, remove this thirst.
Hidden, but near.
A series of visions, I won't repeat them here.
I won't repeat them here.

Typical me, typical me.
I gave my cargo to the sea.
I gave the water what it always wanted to be.

Look to the West!
"Ah look it's no contest," - Proud Mary said as she lit the fuse.
"I wanted you, I wanted your blues."
Your Blues.

"All good things must come to an end.
The bad ones just go on forever."
Isn't that what I just said?
It is Now and it is Never.
It is Now and it is Never.
It is Now and it is Never.
It is Now and it is Never.

Don't worry about her.
She's been known to appreciate the elegance of an empty room.
Look, I made you this broom.
A predicate warning to the sun -
"This Night advances on..."

The sketchy crowd shows me drawings, they're alright.
An alternately dim and frightful waste.
Now come on honey let's go outside.
You disrupt the world's disorder just by virtue of your grace, you know...
I didn't want to go, but leave I must...
As gratifying as this dust was.

Please don't wake me from this - my golden slumber -
I am proud to be a part of this number!

. . .


I went for you in military times and, then, I waited well into the 2300s.
I made my way through the Union Street design kids.
They were alright.
They were on fire.
They harbored an elementary desire to do good works.
I bought 'em all, I bought 'em all!
I made donations to The Plague, and The Fall and The Old Grey Mare in her stall!

Endangered Ape, a couple years in Solitary never really hurt anyone.
Distinguished colleagues, dead music-writers' brides - I apologize.
They were alright.
They were on fire.
They harbored an elementary desire to do good works.
I bought 'em all, I bought 'em all!
I made donations to The Plague, and The Fall and The Old Grey Mare in her stall.

I don't know, I guess I'm doing alright.
Tabitha takes another stab at becoming light.
She never wants to go.
Always want to stay illuminated.

Ride towards the dawn, Quicksilver on the side of nothing.
Never had a chance.
Never had to choose Your Blood versus Your Blues.

. . .


I made a tomb for all the incompatible cells I could take,
And I brought bells to the wake.
And you... you didn't mind shedding your beautiful European blood
As I screamed: "death to the murderers we've loved all our lives!"

I was good with names, I had a way with faces
And I was the dominant theme in a number of places.
And you... you didn't mind... mixing your beautiful European oils
For a still life. Oh Candice, we should've run for our lives!

When I'm at war I insist on a slaughter,
And getting it on with the hangman's daughter.
She needs release. She needs to feel at ease with her father,
The fucking maniac.

I made a tomb for all the incompatible cells I could take,
And I brought bells to the wake. And you...
you didn't mind shedding your beautiful European blood
As I screamed: "death to the murderers we've loved all our lives!"

Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I wanted you, I wanted these treasures, too.

. . .


And I'm reminded of the time that I was blinded by the sun.
It was a welcome change from the sight of you hanging
Like a willow off the arm of yet another visionary
Prophetess east van punk.

I didn't stand a chance.
I couldn't stand at all.
You looked ok with the others.
You looked great on your own.
It was 2002 and you couldn't be bothered to say, 'hello' or 'goodbye'.
Or stand the 'test of time' - you did, I just tried to separate an ocean from these tears we cried...

Where did you get that line?
Where did you get that look?
Where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk?
Where did you get that ride?
Where did you get that rocket?
Where did you get that painter in your pocket?

Hey, there's Christine
And there's where she could've been.
The summer season was cheap.
Birds of prey stick together and, hey, so do we...

I didn't stand a chance.
I didn't stand at all.
You looked ok with the others.
You looked great by yourself.
It was 2002 and you needed reminding to stay alive.
And so did I, but at least I tried to fall upon that sword and never look back...

Where did you get that line?
Where did you get that look?
Where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk?
Where did you get that ride?
Where did you get that rocket?
Where did you get that painter in your pocket?

I didn't stand a chance.
I didn't stand at all.
You looked ok with the others...

. . .


You can huff, You can puff,
But you'll never destroy that stuff.
Finally, I see why I suppose,
Kids, You better change your feathers,
You'll never fly with those... things.

These nights the boys sing, "Hello, Emptiness"
I heard you're alright.
I heard you're alright.
I've heard of you.

A body aching, fragile and pale.
Dark valleys, a house, its trail.
Why can't you see that a life in arms,
And a life of mimicry,
It's the same thing.

The room was crowded,
And though you couldn't care less about it.
That much was true, that much.
Another version of this miniature Rome to set fire to.
Why did we stop fucking around you?
Girls, like gazelles, graze.
Boys, wearing bells, blaze new trails in sound.

I looked up, I looked around.
A famous Toronto painter shot me down.
Oh, I've busted my ass on these streets too long,
He said "I set fire to the bed and tore, tore his gown".

Felt some mercurial presence hitherto unknown.
It was the sun.
It was a stone falling through blank space.
It was that jewel-encrusted roan getting in my face.

Looked across the way to the princess rooms.
I saw brides and their grooms.
Heard the sound of bells ringing.

Cinders look back fondly upon a house on fire.
When across an ocean.
We go.
We row, and we row, and we tire

Now, step out of the darkness and into the light.
Yeah, it's common knowledge: I've been doing alright.
No, I can't complain.
On the east side midwives' lives go down the drain.
All cause our babies are dying. (screaming)

I lifted the veil to see nature's trickery
Revealed as pure shit from which nothing ever rose,
Because nothing ever could.
I swear somewhere the truth lies within this wood.
And i swear looter's follies has never sounded so good.
And win or lose, what's the difference?

. . .


She was part of an inner circle--
Daughters of the Motherland.
Like a ship lit up at sea,
with scars where its talons used to be.(Repeat line twice)

I was a slow learner, I moved in flourishes.
I was a late-bloomer, I moved in flourishes.
Last man on the scene--
Fresh face on a dying scene,
One-hundredth of a wet, black bough.(Repeat line twice)

I was Clytemnestra on a good day,
Dispensing wisdom to the uninitiated.
The initiates brought out in tumbrils,
Shed out by the dawn.(Repeat line twice)

Like a woman, I was kept as the wealthy
American underground wept at the sight of Rhodes Island sinking into the sea.

And the sky still reigned supreme over the land as the music lovers
sat cross-legged in the sand, and in time, and in Space,
And, in other words, in a band who, much like churchgoers, fuck themselves... up.(Repeat verse once)

(Minor mumbling.)

. . .


A Dangerous Woman Up To A Point once said -
"As per your wishes, I left you for dead.
I left England to the English."

Is it always one thing or the other with you?
"Forgive them, my Lord, they know not what they do!"
"Hey, your friends are fucked, in so far, as your friends are an ancient
Beast bronzed in tar!"

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Did I fail to mention there's a sword hanging above you?

"Those who love Zeppelin will soon betray Floyd."
I cast off these couplets in honor of the void.
I was here to stay.
I would weather the storm.
I pictured heaven on earth made of clay as your form dictated...

I went down to the garden with the noblest of intentions.
I felt the need to be brief.
I stuck a rose between my teeth and had a laugh.

The sun sets at the speed of light, so I thought I also might leave this
Port of Woe on tall ships made of snow invading the sun.

A Dangerous Woman Up To A Point once said -
"I've never read 'so-and-so, so why mention him here, in this square
Where culprits axe me, my dear.
Tried to enjoy myself at the Society Ball, really I did.
Froze on Union Street, it was springtime, I was just a kid lost in a map
Of the stars others called 'your eyes.'
It was a trap!
It was a good time!
It was hard to realize!...

I can't win.
I can't even walk.
Baby, you should talk.
Baby, you should hear what you're saying.
They said - "Don't look back!" but I looked back.
It was a bore.
It was a fucking horror.
It was - well, honey, you know quite well what you are...

A Dangerous Woman Up To A Point once said -
"People come, and people go, and people lie nameless in the snow..."

. . .


I was just another west-coast maximalist exploring the blues,
Ignoring the news from the front where they're taking her children away.
Taking them where they wanna go: Tall ships made of snow invading the sun.

Some people call me 'Angel' on their deathbed, in a dream.
That's right, the Czar's father thought things could've gone differntly
Last night, but they didn't...

And I couldn't bear to follow you there, where trauma exists in the sky.
20th Century Masters welcome these disasters, and so do I.
But, no!
Oh baby, please don't go up into it!

. . .


Listening to strawberry wine
For the 131st time
It was 1987 and it was spring
It's 1987 all the time
Now it's 1987 all the time
Well we were there
Too thin too fair
Downing your third drink
Standing at arm's length
In the square
Just off
A mildly successful
Killing rampage
Where good writers go
To find one thing
And stick with it

Oh life
Is bigger
Than a life on the run
From the united states
And her friends
On this night
Made of jewels

It took three
Carabinieri
To peel em off the streets of the town
She's named after
Dragging the lagoon was a disaster
They found him alive and
Relatively well

Well some situations
Seek redressing
Some songs just
Go testing, testing,
I took a picture
I was sick of motion

And wore her watercolours into the ocean
And wore her watercolours into the ocean

. . .


Make a mockery of the courts, receive your sentence, and take the fall.
The Strata Council sees your face and decides to declare you 'a doll.'

That's ok, yes it's fine…
You've been the same, most every time…
A sick priest will learn to last forever…

Molly begets herself.
She plans a merger with The Scene.
An insider breathes word of this and, surprise!, it turns to steam…

That's ok, yes it's fine…
He's been the same, most every time…
A sick priest will learn to last forever…

Founding Fathers, oh what have you found?
Your daughter's face, a sweet embrace, and a commoner's less than sacred
Place…
Take it back, there's a world underground!

In spite of Western Sacrifice, we auction off the sword.
But Damascus never asked us to write a song about being bored with Our Lady Of This Immaculate Currency…

Gut yourself!
It's a one-man job on the altar of the Beast.
To make it legal, Wilhelm's bride goes bulemic at the feast.

That's ok, yes it's fine…
She's been the same, most every time…
A sick priest will learn to last forever…

Founding Fathers, oh what have you found?

. . .


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