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The Mountain Goats
The Mountain Goats


Background information
Origin Claremont, California, United States
Genre(s) Folk-Rock
Lo-Fi
Indie Rock
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) 4AD
Merge Records
Associated acts The Extra Lens
John Vanderslice
Kaki King
Website Website
Members
Jon Wurster
John Darnielle
Peter Hughes



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  T  →  The Mountain Goats  →  Albums  →  Hot Garden Stomp

The Mountain Goats Album



1993
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. . .


the moon's full, and the sky is bright,
and so you and me are gonna get drunk tonight.
we're gonna steal some tractors and head on into town,
find the main strip and start mowing them down.

don't come to the window till you're sure it's me.
don't ignore the obvious. take a deep breath.
put your hand on the god damn radio.
put your hand on the god damn radio.

fields are full of spirits, but no one cares at all.
a light above you flickers when you hear me call.
and I'm shaking when I see you there cause I don't know what it means.
but the ground is looking dry tonight and bursting near the seams.

so don't come to the window till you're sure it's me.
don't ignore the obvious. take a deep breath.
put your hand on the god damn radio.
put your hand on the god damn radio, yeah.

. . .


the sky was pale. the day was gloomy!
boy your eyes burned through me.

thought that I knew what colors were.
ha ha ha! ha ha ha!

thought that I knew what colors were,
before I saw you...
ice blue!

. . .


they'll be singing out loud
when the water goes through the crowd.
they'll be howling for you
when the waves come crashing through.

I brought my friend. here he comes,
splashing, gurgling for you.
now the water runs through the streets unimpaired,
crashing through.

they'll be saying your name,
every voice different, every word the same.
they'll be holding you up
too close to the sun,
but I will make them stop.

I brought my friend. here he comes,
splashing, gurgling for you.
and now the water runs through the streets unimpaired,
rushing through.

still ??? singing, go stand in the light.
when my friend gets here he will set things right.
they'll be singing for one thing and they'll get this instead.
let them come and get me, let them strike me dead.

I brought my friend. here he comes,
splashing, gurgling for you.
now the water runs through the streets unimpaired,
rushing through.

I brought my friend. here he comes,
splashing, gurgling for you.
and now the water runs through the streets unimpaired,
rushing through.

. . .


The sun was a yellow eye in a blue face
When you came over to my place
And you said how things looked dead around here
Well that's alright if things look dead around here
Cause it's only a little while longer that things are gonna look dead around here

And there are certain gardening skills
That you don't have yet
And there are certain gardening skills
That you'll never learn

How to leave alone what's doing fine
How to mulch what's dying on the vine
There are certain gardening secrets
You don't know

You said the soil looked nitrogen poor
Well, don't you worry about the soil looking nitrogen poor
I think that's my problem if the soil is nitrogen poor
But for myself it looks kind of nitrogen rich

And there are certain gardening secrets
You don't have yet
And there are certain gardening skills
You'll never learn

How to leave alone what's doing fine
How to mulch what's dying on the vine
There are certain gardening secrets
You don't know

. . .


there's a north wind coming in
and there's a west wind coming in
and there's an east wind coming in
and there's a strong wind blowing in from the south
and there's a sweet metallic taste in my mouth.
there's a dead feeling lingering over the wind.

and there's a one-way ticket in my hot little hand
and I'm kissing your eyelids and I'm going to japan.

there's life and liberty on my tongue
and there's a dead silence where the wind-chimes hung
and on some mountain somewhere in the world it's snowing
but here in the fields there's not a thing growing.
maybe next year, ya know, there is a way of knowing.
there's wind coming in from all directions.
there's a coat on my shoulders--midnight connections.

and I'm kissing you and leaving you behind in the sand.
I'm holding you a while then I'm going to japan.

. . .


I'd like to begin by saying that I saw you coming,
but that would be a lie.
I'd like to say that I can hear your voice,
but I couldn't mean 'hear' in the accepted sense of the word.

are you cleaning off the stone?
that's a sweet thing to do.
are you cleaning off the stone?
that's sweet of you.

they tell me your hair's gotten much, much longer.
I bet it looks nice.
they tell me your eyes are the same color as they always were.
that kind of information just floors me.

are you cleaning off the stone?
that's a sweet thing to do.
are you cleaning off the stone?
that's sweet of you.

are you cleaning off the stone?
that's a sweet thing to do.
are you cleaning off the stone?
that's sweet of you.

. . .


the moon was unbearably high.
flowering plant that hung from the radiator pipe.
it was dripping sweat from its rapidly fading petals.
and to the humming world in which I was living,

a crescendoing stepping sound came in.
heard you stepping over three weeks' worth of newspapers
piled up outside the door.

I hear you knocking.
come in.
turn on the radio.
turn up the volume.

you sat down in the same place where you used to sit.
it brought back a memory or two.
I may not know much any more, but I remember you.

you were quiet for a while, and that was nice.
then you came along with your questions,
always questions.
I don't have any answers to those particular questions.

I hear you talking.
shut up!
turn on the radio.
turn up the volume.

. . .


Spoken:
(The actual date is the 17th of April. Love hymn to aphrodite.)

the sunset gets a little longer every night
and it's no good but I feel alright.
the sky turns orange and the colors start swirling.
you float downstairs, your body spinning
in perfect circles.
it's the 18th of july, but what are you doing?

. . .


I get letters telling me since I moved away
You've taken to hanging out on that rock about a mile from shore

Given what I know about that rock mainly that it's populated by seals
I strongly suggest to you that you not hang out there anymore

Cause the seal is a wily and a vicious creature
And the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
yeah the seal has a mind set on violence
And the seal is the sworn enemy of man

Now when I say that the seal is vicious I use the term advisedly
According to Webster's 9th New Collegiate Definition 4b.

Which states that vicious means marked by ferocity
And offers as a synonym, savage

Cause the seal is a vicious and a wily creature
And the seal has a mind full of evil designs
And the seal will harm you and laugh about it
Yeah the seal is not a creature you want to toy with
Yeah the seal is not a creature you want to toy with

. . .


the guy on my right is new
and he says he feels kinda sad and his hands are cold
and he refuses the dice
so I pick 'em up myself.
I let 'em roll.

and the little white spots gleam like stars
and the guy on my right gets a look at the stickman
and he begins to sense where it is that we are
and the table's hot
but so am I
and I grab the bones and I let 'em fly.
so come 2 come 3 come 4 come 5 come 6 come 7 come 9
it doesn't matter to me now
'cause I've got all kinds of time.

. . .


at one thirty on a thursday night
I saw a pair of raccoons heading to the gutter
they stopped at the storm drain
their tails hung down and out of sight
they looked up at me
their eyes were shining
I thought of you

and I can't stand the way the moon expands and fills out
the corners of your california sky
I can't stand it

the old buildings stood tall against the sky
the windows had old sheets hanging over them doubling as curtains
and the silhouettes moving in the bright lights behind the curtains
looked like you
I stopped moving momentarily

the world will
stand still on nights like these
without any kind of warning
and I can't stand it.

. . .


when I woke up on saturday and you came in
you brought the sunlight in
I felt sleep slipping away from me
I feel things occasionally like this
fresh cherries
hanging from your fingers

when the water on the window let the sunlight through
and I got a good look at you
standing above me bright and tall
there are no words for it
there are no words at all
I saw
fresh cherries
hanging from your fingers

. . .


ok
come here you
what?
I want you to be my love slave
yes master oh you ???
who me?
it goes both ways
it does?
mmm yeah.
I'm gonna be your love slave?
uh-huh

stood near the cage of the prize-fighting cock
the sun cut through the clouds but the air pressure dropped
and I touched your hair for the very first time
I have that moment with me now
it's all mine
and you
showed me a thing or two about power in its purest form

a few minutes later you went back inside
and I stood near the clothesline where strips of beef dried
hanging in the noon-day sun
flies were buzzing nearby
and then your face in the window caught my eye
and you
showed me a thing or two about power in its purest form

things don't look much different now from where I stand
looking for you with camera in hand
someone's gone away
and someone's gotten taller
but the world stopped turning and the universe is much smaller
since you
showed me a thing or two about power in its purest form
yeah you
showed me a thing or two about power in its purest form

. . .


if I had a car and you were riding in it
I'd show you what my car could do
I head east down highway fifteen and see the starlight
shower over you
gas fumes rising from the blacktop
cheap hotels with flashing signs
just an old sweet song made new
and oozing through the pines

if I had thirty dollars and I could make time stop
and the moon was high up above
and moon beams fell like sweet cream
and the night air would carry our dark dreams

gas fumes off the highway
neon flashing everwhere
just an old sweet song made new by your body
and desert flowers blooming in the thick night air

. . .


...he'll still be like
...it's so good. she's
...tell ya about personal testimony
...please keep feeding us

the young sun
the old story forming
hasn't been the same
since dad came by this morning
did you see the way mom's looking at us
mark it well

your eyes meet mine
when we hear her call
the strange birds in the yard
a portrait of the symbols that she painted on the garden wall
did you see the way mom's looking at us
did you see the way mom's looking at us
don't say anything

. . .


Don't write a letter
When you want to leave
Don't call me at 3 a.m. from your friend's apartment

I'd like to choose
How I hear the news
Take me to a park that's covered with trees
Tell me on a Sunday, please

Let me down easy, no big song and dance
No long faces, no long looks, no deep conversation
I know the way
I want to spend that day

Take me to the zoo with fake chimpanzees
Tell me on a Sunday, please

Don't want to know who's to blame
Won't help knowing
I don't wanna fight, day and night
It's bad enough that you're going

Don't leave in silence, with no words at all
Don't get mad and slam the door
That's no way to end this
I know how I want you to say goodbye

Find a circus tent with a big trapeze
Tell me on a Sunday, please

I don't wanna fight day and night
It's bad enough that you're going

Don't leave in silence, with no word at all
Don't get mad and slam the door
That's no way to end this
I know how I want you to say goodbye

Don't ride off in the pouring rain
Don't call me as they call your plane
Take the hurt out of all the pain

Take me to a park that's covered with trees
Tell me on a Sunday, please

. . .


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