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They Might Be Giants




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  T  →  They Might Be Giants  →  Albums  →  Lincoln

They Might Be Giants Album


Lincoln (09/25/1988)
09/25/1988
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. . .



Make a hole with a gun perpendicular
To the name of this town in a desk-top globe
Exit wound in a foreign nation
Showing the home of the one this was written for
My apartment looks upside down from there
Water spirals the wrong way out the sink
And her voice is a backwards record
It's like a whirlpool and it never ends

Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each other's majestic presence
Listen Ana hear my words
They're the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you

All alone at the '64 World's Fair
Eighty dolls yelling "Small girl after all"
Who was at the Dupont Pavilion?
Why was the bench still warm? Who had been there?
Or the time when the storm tangled up the wire
To the horn on the pole at the bus depot
And in the back of the edge of hearing
These are the words the voice was repeating:

Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each other's majestic presence
Listen Ana hear my words
They're the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you

When I was driving once I saw this painted on a bridge:
"I don't want the world, I just want your half"

They don't need me here, and I know you're there (don't need me)
Where the world goes by like the humid air (world goes by)
And it sticks like a broken record
Everything sticks like a broken record
Everything sticks until it goes away (it goes home)
And the truth is, we don't know anything (don't know)

Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each other's majestic presence
Listen Ana hear my words
They're the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you

Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each other's majestic presence
Listen Ana hear my words
They're the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you

Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven't walked in the glow of each other's majestic presence
Listen Ana hear my words

. . .



I'm going down to Cowtown
The cow's a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and that's where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And that's where I will be
I'm gonna see the cow beneath the sea

The yellow Roosevelt Avenue leaf overturned
The ardor of arboreality is an adventure we have spurned, we've spurned
A new leaf overturned
It's a new leaf overturned

And so I'm going down to Cowtown
The cow's a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and that's where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And that's where I will be
I'm gonna see the cow beneath the sea

We yearn to swim for home, but our only home is bone
How sleepless is the egg knowing that which throws the stone
Foresees the bone, the bone
Our only home is bone
Our only home is bone

And so I'm going down to Cowtown
The cow's a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and that's where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And that's where I will be
I'm gonna see the cow beneath the sea

Yes I'm going down to Cowtown
The cow's a friend to me
Lives beneath the ocean and that's where I will be
Beneath the waves, the waves
And that's where I will be
I'm gonna see the cow beneath the sea
Yes I'm gonna see (I'm gonna see)
The cow (the cow)

. . .



Lie still, little bottle, and shake my shaky hand
Black coffee's not enough for me, I need a better friend
One pill at the bottom is singing my favorite song
I know I must investigate
I hope that I can sing along

There's no time for metaphors cried the little pill to me
He said, "Life is a placebo masquerading as a simile"*
Well, I knew that pill was lying
Too gregarious, too nice
But as he walked I had to sing this twice

Lie still, little bottle
Don't twist, it ain't twistin' time
With every move you make you just disintegrate my ever-troubled mind

Lie still, little bottle, and shake my shaky hand
Black coffee's not enough for me, I need a better friend
One pill at the bottom is singing my favorite song
I know I must investigate
I hope that I can sing along

Lie still, little bottle
Lie still
Lie still, little bottle
Lie still
Lie still

. . .



I remember the year I went to camp
I heard about some lady named Selma and some blacks
Somebody put their fingers in the President's ears
It wasn't too much later they came out with Johnson's wax
I remember the book depository where they crowned the king of Cuba
Now that's all I can think of, but I'm sure there's something else
Way down inside me I can feel it coming back

Purple toupee will show the way when summer brings you down
(Purple toupee when summer brings you down)
Purple toupee and gold lame will turn your brain around
(Purple toupee and gold lame)

Chinese people were fighting in the park
We tried to help them fight, no one appreciated that
Martin X was mad when they outlawed bell bottoms
Ten years later they were sharing the same cell
I shouted out, "Free the Expo '67"
Till they stepped on my hair, and they told me I was fat
Now I'm very big, I'm a big important man
And the only thing that's different is underneath my hat

Purple toupee will show the way when summer brings you down
(Purple toupee when summer brings you down)
Purple toupee and gold lame will turn your brain around
(Purple toupee and gold lame)

Purple toupee is here to stay after the hair has gone away
The purple brigade is marching from the grave

We're on some kind of mission
We have an obligation

. . .



Somebody's reading your mind
Damned if you know who it is
they're digging through all of your files
Stealing back your best ideas
You cover your windows with lead
Even keeping the pets outside
Then you hear a moment too late this sound coming over the phone

This is the spawning of the cage and aquarium
Don't wait a moment too soon
Used to be different, now you're the same
Yawn as your plane goes down in flames
this is the spawning of the cage and aquarium
Don't wait a moment too soon
Used to be different, now you're the same

. . .



Where your eyes don't go a filthy scarecrow waves its broomstick arms
And does a parody of each unconscious thing you do
When you turn around to look it's gone behind you
On its face it's wearing your confused expression
Where your eyes don't go

Where your eyes don't go a part of you is hovering
It's a nightmare that you'll never be discovering
You're free to come and go or talk like Kurtis Blow
But there's a pair of eyes in back of your head

Every jumbled pile of person has a thinking part that wonders
What the part that isn't thinking isn't thinking of
Should you worry when the skullhead is in front of you
Or is it worse because it's always waiting where your eyes don't go?

Where your eyes don't go a part of you is hovering
It's a nightmare that you'll never be discovering
You're free to come and go or talk like Kurtis Blow
But there's a pair of eyes in back of your head

Where your eyes don't go a filthy scarecrow waves its broomstick arms
And does a parody of each unconscious thing you do
When you turn around to look it's gone behind you
On its face it's wearing your confused expression

. . .



Piece of dirt, that is all I'm standing on today
Piece of dirt, the whole world has slipped away
I would climb the highest mountain just to jump into a fountain
Or to fly, I'd fly away

A woman's voice on the radio can convince you you're in love
A woman's voice on the telephone can convince you you're alone
But I set my sails so long ago they've revoked my sailor's badge
Said I should be content and happy on this ink spot where I stand

Piece of dirt, that is all I'm standing on today
Piece of dirt, the whole world has slipped away
I find myself haunted by a spooky man named me

. . .



Once a boy named Mister Me bemoaned a great regret
I've floundered in the misty sea, but can't abide its mystery
I wound up sad, you bet

So onward go and Edward Ho into the bounding main
Enjoy the show look out below but mind the misty sea
Or end up sad like Mister Me

He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad

So take the hand of Mister Me and mister, make him glad
To swim the Mister Misty Sea and cease the Mister Mystery
That mister, made him sad

He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad

He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad

. . .



The possible dream
Finale of seem
The moment that some call eternal that some call insane
Now helmets on each head awaiting the first lead
The pageant is named the pencil rain

The infantry stands
And holds out its hands
The marshal's binoculars focus and skyward they train
They're searching the yonder blue
They look out for number two
The heraldry of the pencil rain

And now hear the roar that none can ignore
The thunderous clatter of splintering wood and lives that are claimed
And none who have witnessed all
Can think of a nobler cause than perishing in the pencil rain
The pencil rain
The pencil rain

. . .



I know you deceived me, couldn't sleep last night
Now my tear stains on the wall reflect an ugly sight
I can see your secrets
No need to confess
Everyone looks naked when you know the world's address

The world's address
A place that's worn
A sad pun that reflects a sadder mess
I'll repeat it for those who may not have already guessed
The world's address

Life's parade of fashion just leaves me depressed
Under every garment I can see the world's address
Call the men of science and let them hear this song
Tell them Albert Einstein and Copernicus were wrong

The world's address
A place that's worn
A sad pun that reflects a sadder mess
I'll repeat it for those who may not have already guessed
The world's address

Call the men of science and let them hear this song
Tell them Albert Einstein and Copernicus were wrong

The world's address
A place that's worn
A sad pun that reflects a sadder mess
I'll repeat it for those who may not have already guessed

The world's address
A place that's worn
A sad pun that reflects a sadder mess
I'll say it one more time for those who may not have already guessed

. . .



Get out of the car
Put down the phone
Take off that stupid looking hat you wear
I'm going to die if you touch me one more time
Well I guess that I'm going to die no matter what

Love people are there
The smell of love is everywhere
You think it's always sensitive and good
You think that I want to be understood
I've got a match
Your embrace and my collapse

Beat up the cat if you need someone else on the mat
I put a rock in the coffee in your coffee mug
Which one of us is the one that we can't trust?
You say that I think it's you but I don't agree with that

Love people are there
The smell of love is everywhere
You think it's always sensitive and good
You think that I want to be understood
I've got a match
Your embrace and my collapse
even when we get along
I've got a match
Your embrace and my collapse

Love people are there
The smell of love is everywhere
Why can't you be sensitive and good
Why don't you want to be understood
I've got a match
Your embrace and my collapse
I've got a match

. . .



Once a year my friend puts on a red suit
And hangs around with me and my wife
Now I can't help but feeling jealous each time she climbs on his knee
And she stands beneath the mistletoe screaming
For him to stand beneath the mistletoe screaming
Now I can't help but feeling jealous each time she climbs on his knee
Why must she climb on his knee?

I saw my baby wearing Santa's beard
She kissed him once and whispered in his ear
I saw my baby wearing Santa's beard
I wish he would go
He's breaking up my home

She always had this twisted side to her*
But she'd never drag my name around town
But lately she's been humming cheating songs
And I don't like that fat guy around
No, I don't like that fat guy around

I saw my baby wearing Santa's beard
She kissed him once and whispered in his ear
I saw my baby wearing Santa's beard
I wish he would go
He's breaking up my home

I saw my baby wearing Santa's beard
Thrilling Christmas, trembling fear
I saw my baby wearing Santa's beard
I wish he would go

. . .



You'll always miss my big old body
In its prime and never shoddy,
While bloodhounds wait down in the lobby you'll eulogize my big old body

You'll miss me with effigies
Lighting up your house like Xmas trees
As tears roll down below your knees
You'll miss me with effigies

Go find a man to fit my shoes
Left one's old and the right one's new
And I bought the right one just for you
Go find a man to fit my shoes

You'll see my teeth in the stars above
Every tree a finger of my glove
And every time push comes to shove
You'll see my teeth in the stars above

Your money talks but my genius walks
Morticians wait with a shovel and a fork
As detectives trace my hands with chalk
Your money talks but my genius walks

You'll miss me so
You will miss me
It must be raining because a man ain't supposed to cry

. . .



Love sees love's happiness
But happiness can't see that love is sad
That love is sad
Sadness is hanging there
To show love somewhere something needs a change
They need a change

They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break it's gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain

Lad's gal is all he has
Gal's gladness hangs upon the love of lad
The love of lad
Some things gal says to lad aren't meant as bad
But cause a little pain
They cause him pain

They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break it's gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain

Don't call me at work again no no the boss still hates me
I'm just tired and I don't love you anymore
And there's a restaurant we should check out where
The other nightmare people like to go
I mean nice people, baby wait,
I didn't mean to say nightmare

Lad looks at other gals
Gal thinks Jim Beam is handsomer than lad
He isn't bad
Call off the wedding band
Nobody wants to hear that one again
Play that again

They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
To take the house he built for her apart
To make it break it's gonna take a metal ball hung from a chain
They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
To pick the broken ruins up again
To mend her heart, to help him start to see a world apart from pain

They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane
They'll need a crane, they'll need a crane

. . .



He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth
People should get beat up for stating their beliefs
He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth
Because he knows there's no such thing

He asks a girl if they can both sit in a chair but he doesn't get nervous
She's not really there

He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth
Because he knows there's no such thing

Tour the world in a heavy metal band
But they run out of gas
The plane can never land

He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth
People should get beat up for stating their beliefs
He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth
Because he knows there's no such thing

What's the sense in ever thinking about the tomb
When you're much too busy returning to the womb?

He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth
People should get beat up for stating their beliefs
He wants a shoehorn, the kind with teeth

. . .



I like people, they're the ones who can't stand
They're the ones who can't stand
I see smoke signals coming from them
They say "We are out of furniture"

Stand on your own head for a change
Give me some skin to call my own
Stand on your own head for a change
Give me some skin to call my own

You made my day, now you have to sleep in it
Now you have to sleep in it
I love the world and if I have to sue for custody,
I will sue for custody

Stand on your own head for a change
Give me some skin to call my own
Stand on your own head for a change
Give me some skin to call my own
Stand on your own head
Stand on your own head for a change

. . .



Avalanche or roadblock
I was a snowball in hell
Avalanche or roadblock
A jailer trapped in his cell

Money's all broke, and food's going hungry
If it wasn't for disappointment
I wouldn't have any appointments

Side effect or drug trip
Don't tease me with all of your might
Side effect or drug trip
My panacea's in a Xerox shop

Have a nice day, you want it when?
Have a nice day, have a nice day

I didn't expect to find a salesman drinking coffee this late in the morning. How
long you been here, Joe?
Oh, I don't know, I guess thirty, forty-five minutes maybe. Why do you ask?
You must be making a lot of sales, piling up good income.
Oh... uh... I'm doing all right. I could do better, but... Ohahaha I get it
Paul.
Back on that old "Time is Money" kick, right?
Not back on it, Joe, still on it.

Avalanche or roadblock
I was a snowball in hell
Avalanche or roadblock
A jailer trapped in his cell
Money I owe, money-iy-ay
Money I owe, money-iy-ay

Avalanche or roadblock

. . .



I built a little empire out of some crazy garbage
Called the blood of the exploited working class
But they've overcome their shyness
Now they're calling me Your Highness
And a world screams, "Kiss me, Son of God"

I destroyed a bond of friendship and respect
Between the only people left who'd even look me in the eye
Now I laugh and make a fortune
Off the same ones that I tortured
And a world screams, "Kiss me, Son of God"

I look like Jesus, so they say
But Mr. Jesus is very far away
Now you're the only one here who can tell me if it's true
That you love me and I love me

I built a little empire out of some crazy garbage
Called the blood of the exploited working class
But they've overcome their shyness
Now they're calling me Your Highness
And a world screams, "Kiss me, Son of God"

. . .


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