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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  →  Slow Dazzle

John Cale Album


Slow Dazzle (1975)
1975
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I believe you Mr Wilson
I believe the things you say
And I'm always thinking of you
When I hear your music play

And you know it's true
That Wales is not like California in any way
And when I listen to your music
You're still thousands of miles away

Take your mixes not your mixture
Add some music to our day
Don't believe the things they tell you
Don't let them get in your way

And you know that it's true
Wales is not like California in any way
And everytime I hear hear your music
You're still thousands of miles away

Califorinia wine is fine...

. . .


Oh, you sentimental fool
Yes, you sentimental fool
Love, those broken veins
made you so afraid
of that wishful wishing well

Well now you're in misery and in pain
Well now you're in misery and in pain
So she broke your heart
And you let her die
Well that's your name and that's the game

'Cause they're taking it all away
They're taking it all away
They're taking it all away

'Cause they're taking it all away
They're taking it all away
They're taking it all away
They're taking it all away (repeat)

. . .


Well it's too damn early and your eyes are bleeding
From the vicious bottle the night before
And the last thing you need is a nicety-nice
And small talk crawls out your ears
Maybe it makes you feel just like an undercover Sigmund Freud
I hear it makes you feel just like an undercover Sigmund Freud

Hey there, hey now, hey there, hey now
Well you can make a pacemaker blink, yeah, easy thing
Make a man's heart go bibbity-bom bippity-bom bippity-bom
Like a gentle drum
And knowing you it ain't ever done

So go on, go on, go on, darling, go on
Yeah go on, go on darling, go on, go on

Yeah, the secretaries and typewriters chattering away
Chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter
chatter-chatter-chatter, chatter away
It ought to make you sick when you hear a woman cry
When she don't get just whatever she wants
But not my woman, she just keeps on keeping on,
That's my woman, my woman
That moving on shuffle side to side
That sure can turn me on

Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll

Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now
And the beach is a thing and the bees don't sting
Like complaining from a downtown whore
I got my plasma patches and my hypodermic in hermetically sealed kid gloves
Yeah tell me
Tell me tell me tell me tell me
Tell me
Tell me tell me tell me tell me

Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll

. . .


Woke up early this morning
Something wrong inside my head
Took a look around for breakfast
First thing I see is you're not there

Oh where were you, where were you?
where were you when I needed you?
where were you, where were you?
when I needed you to see me through?

Oh something wrong, now what's gone wrong here
Looked in the mirror, broken white
Lucky to be alive and kicking
Kicking a lot of life around here

But where were you, where were you?
where were you when I needed you?
Where were you, where were you?
When I needed you to see me through?

Ah, darling darling darling I need you
Darling darling darling I do
Darling darling darling I need you
Yes you know I do

Shefton brought me the message
Said you got out at galveston
Church of christ jesus, kentucky
Rattlesnakes and strychnine and prayer

Oh, where were you, where were you?
where were you when I needed you?
Where were you, where were you?
When I needed you to see me through

Oh darling darling darling I need you
Darling darling darling I do
Darling darling darling I need you
Yes you know I do

. . .


You're sticking to me like a dirty joke
A creeping back stabber, or a [.....]
You hit like a butcher with meat on fire
You're lovin' and hatin' but you've barely time

Rollaroller, rollaroll
Rollaroller, rollaroll
Rollaroller, oh rollaroller
Rollaroller, rollaroll

I don't feel nothing when it's stuck to the chair
I ain't dead as a doornail when you're not there
Well, push on over a rollaroller
Feeling the pleasure of rollaroll

Oh [....] wire, are you waving goodbye?
And there's garbage upon garbage, right up to the sky
Ah, rollaroller

Rollaroller, ah rollaroll
Rollaroller, rollaroll
Yeah rollaroller, rollaroll
Rollaroller, rollaroll...

. . .


Since my baby left me,
I found a new place to dwell.
Down at the end of lonely street:
Heartbreak Hotel.

Oh Feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby, I could die.

The bell hop's tears keep flowin'
The desk clerk's dressed in black.
They been so long on lonely street
They never will get back.

Oh, Cause they're feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby,
Feeling so lonely baby, They could die.

So if your baby leaves you,
And you have a tale to tell
Why not just take a walk down lonely street
Straight to Heartbreak Hotel.

Where you could be so lonely
And I could be so lonely
We could be so lonely, we could die

. . .


Here comes the ski patrol
It comes but once a year
On down the mountain side
And they'll make sure that we're all right
Make sure that we're all right
Sure that we're all right
Sure that we're all right, all right
All right, all right, all right

When the heavy snow fall comes
It spins on down the hills
And still the sun shines bright
On down and down the hill
On down and down and down and down...
Down and down and down
Down, down and down and down
Where the tattered hills lie down

Ooh, the snow is on the ground
And it drifts on everyone
Makes everybody so glad
Makes everybody so glad
And the candidates who ran
With a long black rabble band
Playing now from town to town
Where the ski patrols are found

Well, that old patrol moves on
And along the mountain trails
Where the trails are watching out
For those ones who need a helping hand
Oh, make sure we're all right
Oh, make sure we're all right

. . .


when my lady passes me by
I lose the love I thought I had in mind
send no flowers or words of regret
cause I'm not the loving kind

day by day I was hoping you'd be
the kind of love that would give me peace of mind
but it may just have passed me by
cause I'm not the loving kind

oooh, aah, etc.
I'm not the loving kind

oooh, aah, etc.
cause I'm not the loving kind

You don't believe it, yes it must be true
how I lost all the love I had in you
send me please no words of regret
cause I'm not the loving kind

oooh, aah, etc.
cause I'm not the loving kind

. . .


The bugger in the short sleeves fucked my wife
Did it quick and split
Back home, fresh as a daisy to Maisy, oh Maisy

And the twelve-bore it stood in the corner
Quite operatic in its self disgust
It blew him all over the living room floor
Like parrot shit, parrot spit, parrot shit was shot

Now suppose it was someone familiar
Someone we all would know
Embarrasing denouement, ne c'est pas?
Familiar hyperbole

And there would go the secret plot
The piss had missed the hole in the pot
Like that ancient teenage dream
From soul to poison soul to poison soul

Guts, guts, got no guts
And stitches don't help at all
Guts, guts, got no guts
Holes in the body, holes in the legs
Holes in the forehead, holes in the head
Holes in the body, holes in the legs
There should never be holes at all
There should never be holes at all

So: kill all you want or more
Make sure, do it right
Dead is dead, and door nails forget
And then you'll notice
How the waster and the wasted
Get to look like one another
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end
In the end, in the end

In the end, in the end

. . .


Very slowly he sipped his tea, not shifting his glance from the thick double spaced printing he read with his jeweller's eye

Engrossed in his corner, he passed onto the other inhabitants of the room a scrawled insularity of time and space

For both passed him by with the speed of light, not unlike the flow of substance, however varied, into that lysergic entity known as the black hole

He was hardly ugly for his time, and conversation was certainly not lost on him
Drastic measures were called for, and as in antiquity the lonely man was blessed with wisdom to the point of desperation

But there in his corner, developing around him like a sun, was a climate of such rare beauty that sight and sound could no longer be considered sufficient food for the senses

And he had begun to notice, as his hearing failed, that mind and matter were in no way connected to one other, as if in fact the one could not propose and prove its erotic existence in terms of the other

"What does this word mean?" he enquired of the solemn waiter hopefully
"Nothing for desert sir", came the reply, "perhaps a cocktail, demitasse or a herbal essence, it helps the breathing you know sometimes". "The bill, if you don't mind", quickly he shot back

And as the patter of the feet faded in the room, for he barely heard them now, his eye slowly began to close, and by the time he emerged on the sunny street he was forced to rely entirely on the other eye for help, but happily it continued its many functions, blinking gently for lubrication, and registering images
It was rush hour, in Hawaii only 10am

So, turning into his street, he stopped at the drug store and bought an eye patch that soon covered the reluctant eye

Climbing the stairs he pondered what to do next, he would call a doctor and have tests made, eat nourishing food and if necessary consent to surgery, the last resort of the gambling man

And at 1am he awoke from a dream and after fumbling his way in the obolescent light of his room he peered into the rusty veins of his mirror and lifted away the patch
What he saw astonished him. Where once was tremulous tissue and membrane was now a follicle and perfectly formed vagina with vulva, overgrown and mysterious, unrevealing and still to the untrained eye

But in the deep dark recesses of that sticky occlusion lay the unclosing watchful eye of disgust in its closing moments, lunging forward and hungry for the cold light of days

. . .


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