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1. |
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Liberated souls and those that gravity still holds
Are drawn to certain places, echo in certain little faces
Here beneath the street where crossed wires meet
We've come to ask questions
And question what the answers ask us
Ghost strokes on the bell
There is no here and now
Just ghost strokes on the bell
Feeling outside of when you were born and where you're dying
Finding lots of little patterns, because there must be patterns to find
Time will show that control is to far to go
Making little things heroic and marble heroes not worth knowing
Ghost strokes on the bell
There is no here and now
Just ghost strokes on the bell
Every once in a while, a simple place gets sanctified
Every once in a while, something wrong gets rectified
Do you know how that is?
Do you know why that is?
Do you know how that is?
Do you know why that is?
Ghost strokes on the bell
There is no here and now
Just ghost strokes on the bell
Liberated souls and those that gravity still holds
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2. |
Egon
04:05
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Daddy, tell me a story
Son, you've got to learn to say please
Please, I want a monster one
You've been good so here it comes
But calm down, son
Egon come.
Where is Ray
She'll be here today
Dr. Peter Venkman
(Too hot to handle)
Will set the story straight, man
(Too cold to hold)
He'll get the proton pack and trap
(Too hot to handle)
To get the ghosts off your back
(Too cold to hold)
This is not for babies
This is for the big kid boys
Babies can't stand up when they pee
'Cause they're not so strong like me.
Calm down son
Egon come
Where is Ray
She'll be here today
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3. |
Turn Over Your Hand
01:52
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Those lines on your palm, they can be read
for a hidden part of your life that only
those links can say
Those lines on your palm, they can be read
for a hidden part of your life that only
those links can say
Nobody’s voice
can find so tiny a message as comes
across your hand.
Turn over your hand
Forbidden to complain,
you have tried to be like somebody else,
and only this fine record you examine
sometimes like this can remember where
you were going before that long
silent evasion that your life became.
Turn over your hand
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4. |
Blue Birds
02:39
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Pensacola bluebirds' home
Pensacola bluebirds' home
Blue and gold, it's great,
But I'm through and cold -- that fate,
'Cause she don't see the man,
She sees them wings,
A fishing' god's
A lesser thing
Pensacola, bluebird's home
Pensacola, bluebird's home
A mullet tossed endlessly,
through the damp salty air,
I won't net this girl or the next,
with them gold wings flappin' 'round here.
I won't net this girl or the next,
Or the next or the next or the next
I won't net this girl or the next or the next or the next or the next
Pensacola, the bluebird's home . . .
(Ground pounders moan, gold and blue birds home)
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5. |
Francis Xavier
02:49
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Rarely did I understand the wise words of my old man
On his way from the first to the fifteenth
They were short, but hardly sweet
My folks were married by the church door
Maybe that's way they aren't married any more
My father's off with the merchant marine
My mother back with codfish aristocracy
Life isn't all beer and skittles
You're never further than when you're in the middle
Life is short and very brittle
But it's a sail life for me
Life isn't all beer and skittles
You're never further than when you're in the middle
Life is short and very brittle
But it's a sail life for me
You don't have to be a saint to be a savior
I've got more scotch in me than Francis Xavier
You don't have to be a saint to be a savior
I've got more scotch in me than Francis Xavier
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6. |
Stand Back
02:20
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Through the branches, the breeze, the tilting trees
Watching the storm with dad in the garage
The feeling of calm turns into alarm
When you realize the storm’s getting closer
Your breath comes fast, your mind reels at
The enormity of what is before you
The wind sings, the leaves ring
A billion bells that can't be unrung, and so
There’s a reason for that funny feeling
Stand back as your future takes its past
Welcome to the spinning world
Where the moon pulls and plates push mountains
Your place in it just doesn't fit
What stands out soon gets rounded
A feeling inside that isn't right
Doubt's shadow on your door
A barometer that always descends
You don’t know when, but something is coming in
There’s a reason for that funny feeling
Stand back as your future takes its past
That you had a choice
Is so charming
When you raise your voice
It’s so disarming
You and me
And all that we can do
To stop the tide
It keeps on coming through
In waves
You and me
And all that we can do
To stop the tide
It keeps on coming through
In waves
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7. |
Open Letter
02:54
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I’m writing you a letter
But I can’t recall your name
What I have to say is so universal
That I’m sending it off just the same
Don’t try to find the sender
But I dare not use my name
What I have to say is so controversial
And I know how you people are with blame
Open letter returned to sender
No such address
No such code
I’m writing down everything
Please free my hands
I’m counting on everyone
To raise your hands
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8. |
In Air
03:15
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I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I can feel it come
In the air tonight
I remember, don’t worry
How could I ever forget
It was the first time
The last time
We ever met
I know the reason you keep your silence
But you can’t fool me
The hurt doesn’t grow
But the pain still shows
No stranger to you and me
In the air tonight . . .
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9. |
Secret Policemen's Ball
02:44
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There’s one in every crowd
There’s one on every corner
A scholar, a broker, a banker, a bowler
There’s a reason to be scared
You can’t run any longer
Closing doors fan flames of the thoughts you can’t launder
And it’s so easy to grow wary
When everyone is getting wise
You know your sight gets a little bleary
When you look through is a disguise
There’s one in every crowd
There’s one on every corner
A loaner, a loser, a bailer, a brawler
There’s a reason I’m feared
I can’t remember any longer
Open doors tell tales of the people you can’t collar
It’s so easy to grow weary
When everyone is getting wise
Only one question comes through clearly
How much longer will this be a crime?
Leave your message
I’ll return your call
Once I get back
From the secret policemen’s ball
Leave your message
I’ll return your call
Once I get back
From the secret policemen’s ball
There’s one in every crowd
There’s one on every corner
A loaner, a loser, a bailer, a brawler
There’s a reason I’m here
I can’t remember any longer
Open eyes let in nothing, you’re not breathing any longer
It’s so easy to grow weary
When everyone is getting wise
Only one question that still comes through clearly
How much longer will this be a crime?
Leave your message
I’ll return your call
Once I get back
From the secret policemen’s ball
Lyrics by Paul Bugala
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Peanut Butter Seattle, Washington
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