1. |
No Lazarus
04:01
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Forgive me if I don’t get better,
But I ain’t no Lazarus; You ain’t no savior.
We can play if you like —
But good luck winning a losing fight.
I’m just fine the way I am,
And if I’m not, I’m way far past giving a damn.
So let dead men stay down;
Don’t go waking no blood hounds.
There ain’t nothing good to be found.
Pardon me if this can’t be cured,
But maybe some ills are too impure.
Take the edge off if you like —
Medicate your way through my losing fights.
But I’m just fine the way I am,
And if I’m not, I’m way far past giving a damn.
So let dead men stay down;
Don’t go waking no blood hounds.
There ain’t nothing good to be found.
Forgive me if I don’t get better,
But I ain’t no Lazarus, and you can’t take the edge off this.
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2. |
||||
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There’s some people still asleep on the couch,
And believe it or not, I ain’t yet cried myself out.
And she said something about Sinatra… it was something like:
Play some Sinatra.
Don’t be afraid of anything at all.
Don’t be afraid of anything at all.
Hold on tight.
And play some Sinatra late into the night.
You’ve got tattoos and cigarettes. Yeah
And it strikes me as kind of funny that someone as strong & beautiful as you would try to end it.
Play some Sinatra.
Don’t be afraid of anything at all.
Don’t be afraid of anything at all.
Hold on tight.
And play some Sinatra late into the night.
New York’s behind you
And you’ve got someone who loves you.
Don’t write yourself off just yet.
Don’t write yourself off just yet.
Don’t write yourself off just yet.
Play some Sinatra.
Don’t be afraid of anything at all.
Don’t be afraid of anything at all.
Hold on tight.
And play some Sinatra late into the night.
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3. |
Congratulations
03:41
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|
Everything’s kind of mellow
Everything’s kind of hollow
And I can hear what you say, but the tones are getting rather low.
I’d write it down that it’s what you gave me, if the words would only stay on the page.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
Guess I’m finally acting my age.
Over lunch my girls are worried, they say once you go you’re gone.
They say I’d better raise my voice— wouldn’t want to let it go too long.
But everything’s kind of mellow.
Everything’s kind of hollow.
And I can hear what he says, but the tones are getting rather low.
I’d write it down that it’s what he gave me, if the words would only stay on the page.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
Guess I’m finally acting my age.
The morning’s getting old, and you wake me up just in time
To get dressed like I have somewhere to go, just to get in the daily line.
But everything’s kind of mellow.
Everything’s kind of hollow.
And I can hear what he says, but the tones are getting rather low.
I’d write it down that it’s what he gave me, if the words would only stay on the page.
Congratulations.
Congratulations.
Guess I’m finally acting my age.
Guess I’m finally acting my age.
Guess I’m finally acting my age.
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4. |
The Last One to Walk In
03:42
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You can be the last one to walk in.
You can stand right by the doors as they shut.
You can hold your breath all the way,
But that don’t change where we are today.
So don’t be scared of elevators,
We’re all just going down.
And there ain’t nobody here who’s going to let you off just because you’re crying now.
Don’t be scared of elevators,
We’re all just going down.
You can cry & beg to have your way.
But I don’t think it’ll change a thing.
We are where we are—
A bunch of sad faces in this free-falling car.
So don’t be of elevators,
We’re all just going down.
And there ain’t nobody here who’s going to let you off just because you’re crying now.
Don’t be scared of elevators,
We’re all just going down.
We’re all just going down.
An elevator full about to hit the ground.
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5. |
||||
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You’re a vulture
Though you’re just as bored as me.
But this is how you pay for that cheap eyeliner,
And those name-brand blue jeans.
…and you ask me what I grieve for…
Well, I don’t grieve at all.
No, I don’t grieve at all.
I’ll say it again if you want to hear it once more.
I don’t grieve at all.
No, I don’t grieve at all.
Honey, it’d be too easy to fold.
Though I’m sure you were waiting to hear a real sad tale from this bitch who’s a little too cold.
…and you ask me what I grieve for…
Well, I don’t grieve at all.
No, I don’t grieve at all.
I’ll say it again if you want to hear it once more.
I don’t grieve at all.
No, I don’t grieve at all.
You ask me what I grieve for.
Well, I don’t grieve at all.
No, I don’t grieve at all.
I’ll say it again if you want to hear it once more.
I don’t grieve at all.
No, I don’t grieve at all.
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L. $hamPain Texas
Sounds like... Howard Hughes’ mind on a steamy summer night in 1936, electrified with champaign-soaked bubbles & all of his neurons synapsing endlessly between light & dark, Las Vegas & solitude, being the predator & being the prey.
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