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John Cale
John Cale


Background information
Birth name John Davies Cale[1]
Born March 9, 1942
Genre(s) Art Rock
Classical
Baroque Pop
Experimental Rock
Folk-Rock
Years active 1965—present
Label(s) Island Records
Reprise Records
Rhino Records
A&M Records
Associated acts Lou Reed
The Velvet Underground
Nico
Theater of Eternal Music
John Cage
Phil Manzanera
Brian Eno
Kevin Ayers
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  J  →  John Cale  →  Albums  →  Sabotage/Live

John Cale Album


Sabotage/Live (1979)
1979
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Mercenaries are usless, disunited, unfaithful
They have nothing more to keep them in a battle
Other than a meager wage
Which is just about enough to make them wanna kill for you
But never enough to make them wanna die for ya

I'm just another soldier boy
I'm just another soldier boy
Looking for work
Looking for work
Looking for work

My rifle is my friend
My rifle is my friend
I clean my rifle everyday
I clean my rifle everyday
That's why my rifle is my friend

Ready for war, ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war

Did some work in Zaire, the jolly old Belgian Congo
Went back to Geneva to get paid
Back there in Geneva, that's were the money grows
That's were the money grows, that's were the money flows

They didn't wanna pay me
They didn't wanna pay me, but they did
Try to separate me from my money
is try to separate me from my life

Ready for war, ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war

Let's go to Moscow, let's go to Moscow
Let's go, let's go, let's go to Moscow
Fight a backdoor to the Kremlin
Push it down and walk on in

5000 feet and closing
Target visibility one nine
4000 feet and closing
Target visibility two six
3000 feet and closing
Target visibility seven nine
2000 feet and closing
Visibility one ten
1000 feet and closing
Visibility seven four
500 feet and closing
Target visibility zero!

Ready for war, ready for war
You better be ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war
Are you ready for war
Ready for war, ready for war

. . .


You've got a bum end, babe
You know you do
Something in the back of my mind
Reminds me of you
Talking to yourself alone at night
Scheming on your friends in the midnight
Scheming on your friends for what not
Baby you know

Some things go wrong an some things go right
Another thing, baby, I needed
Was for you to die in a fight
When you turned your back and walked away
You could have stoped me then
But you wanted to wait
Baby, took your time
And that's how, baby, I know

Easy come and easy go
There's much more to get by
Then what she shows
When you're talking to me through the wall again
Talking to me through the wall again
Talking to me through the wall again
Baby you know

The more he does, the more you want
The more you get, the more you want
The more...

. . .


This the morning after
The one's the night before
They're calling at your window
They're calling at you door
I wish I could remember what I did last night
If I was a good boy
Or if I started a fight

They're coming down for breakfast
The butcher and his wife
He's looking very angry
She's sitting very still
I hope to get it worked out soon
Of for sure I will
So much, so much for the evidence
So much, so much for the evidence

Well, something's at the the OK Coral
They're hanging Jesse James
The naked lady's vanished
The policemen are on parade
Then along comes Sherlock Holmes
That that lucky seven percent
He's just got back from Angola
Sniffing cocaine in the tent
So much, so much for the evidence

. . .


Doo doo doo doo ooh
Whatcha gonna do
Whatcha you gonna do
Tell me, whatcha gonna do

Whatcha gonna do
Whatcha gonna do
Tell me, whatcha gonna do

Big black eagle's flying around
Flying around this town
One of these days he's gonna pay a visit
Drop his load on the ground
Whatcha gonna do
Doo...

The people back in Nagasaki
They remember the day too well
When the big black eagle came flying around
Introduced them all to hell
And the people in Hiroshima
Hiroshima, mon amour
They remember when the children's hair fell out
And all their skin turned blue
Whatcha gonna do
Doo...

The people back in Washington D.C.
They've got a curious sidelong glance
It goes all the way from Capitol Hill up to the Pentagon
What they gonna do, what they gonna do
When China drops a bomb on you
What they gonna do, what they gonna do
When Peking drops a bomb on you
What they gonna do
Doo...

. . .


Baby's back, dressed in black
Silver buttons all down her back
Hey ho, tipsy toe
She broke a needle and she can't sew

Walkin' the dog
Walk-walkin' the dog

Asked my mother for fifteen cents
Too see the elephant jump the fence
Jumped so high he hit the sky
Never got back till the fourth of July

Walkin' the dog
Walk, walkin' the dog
Walk, walkin' the dog
walkin' the dog

Baby's back, dressed in black
Silver buttons all down her back
Hey ho tipsy toe
She broke a needle and she can't sew

Walkin' the dog...

. . .


I lost my memory today
The day my ship set sail
Atlantic seas board east
To India

The Seven Seas
East India Company
Pass the Cape of Good Hope
But there is still no hope for me

I can't keep living like this this no more
I can't keep living like this this
I can't keep living like this this no more
O can't you see
You're losing me
Again

Tried to break India's back
But she broke the back of me
It was a painful sight
At least to me

I see the coast is riding out
The coast of India supreme
Under the seven seas
I hear they galloping

I can't keep living like this this no more
I can't keep living like this this
I can't keep living like this this no more
O can't you see
You're losing me
Again

By hook or by crook
I am the captain of this life
By hook or by crook
I am the captain of this life
By hook or by crook
I am the captain of this life
By hook or by crook
The captain of the light

. . .


Only time will tell
If any mischief in our heart
Can cause the damage done
And put it right

Only time will tell
If the songs are in their places
Safe from undiscovered poison
words and rhymes

The gentle pain of falling rain
I'll hide behind to kill
Behind the frozen mask
And ask

If time will tell
Is it heaven or hell
Like Boadicea without a chariot
History of luck

Only time will tell
Only time will tell
Only time will tell
Only time will tell

. . .


Life is short and love is very sweet
Look at all the people running from their lives in the street
What're they running from?
What are they running from?
Well, God, damn it, ask them
I wanna know, too

Read and destroy everything you read in the press
Read and destroy everything you read in books
It's a waste of time
It's a waste of energy
It's a waste of paper
And it's a waste of ink
Whatever you read in the books, leave it there
The word for it is:
Sabotage, sabotage
Sabotage, sabotage

The military intelligence isn't what it used to be
So waht, human intelligence what it used to be either
It's a rising expectation
It's a rising of the tide
The wards will discharge all their patients in teh streets
Are they hurt again? They are mine, yeah, murderer

Sabotage, sabotage, sabotage

. . .


Hold me down, hold me down
To the light in you room hold me down
Where the windows are broken around
And erosion of living is done
If your life is all broken and empty
Like the streets of New York in the dark
And you need just a friend to hold on to
I'll be there in the corner just for you

And the cold of the living
And the cold of the dead
Hand in hand from the beginning to the end
And the cold of the living
And the cold of the dead
Hand in hand from the beginning to the end

. . .


Virgin Mary was tired
So tired
Tired of listening to gossip
Gossip and complaints

They came from next door
And a bewildered stream of chatter
rom all sorts of
All sorts of
Untidy whores
Came from next door
Came from next door

But some men are chosen from the rest
But their disappointment runs with their guests
Never would be invited to the funeral rosegarden

But their choice don't seem to matter
They got swollen breasts and lips that putter
And their choice of matter and their scream of chatter
Is just a little parasitic scream of whores
Screaming whores
In the rosegarden funeral of sores

Virgin Mary was tired
So tired of listening to gossip
Gossip and complaints

In the
In the
Rosegarden
Rosegarden funeral of sores

. . .


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