Here Swerving east, from rich industrial shadows And traffic all night north; swerving through fields Too thin and thistled to be called meadows, And now and then a harsh-named halt, that shields Workmen at dawn; swerving to solitude Of skies and scarecrows,...

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern...

In the most secret recess of the spirit of the man who believes that death will put an end to his personal consciousness and even to his memory forever, in that inner recess, even without his knowing it perhaps, a shadow hovers, a vague shadow lurks,...

No muscle man, no candy cane No pack of sexy starving wolves No money talking, moonlight walking Lady shocking, big crow cocking Those ladybugs can go to blazes Here and there go pretty faces All of this don't mess my stuffing Only one thing got me huffing...

Mme de Perleminouze, confidentiellement -Alors, toujours pas de pralines? Madame- Aucune. Mme de Perleminouze - Pas même un grain de riflard? Madame.- Pas un! Il n'a jamais daigné me repiquer, depuis le flot où il m'a zébrée! Mme de Perleminouze- Quel...

J'ai dans les bottes des montagnes de questions Ou subsiste encore ton écho Ou subsiste encore ton écho.

au creux de mes oreilles il a enfoui multitude de pierres de lune à mon cou je porte ses mains en étoiles oh si douces que je crois qu'elles m'aiment.

Looking out the door I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners Parading in a wake of sad relations As their shoes fill up with water Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong But tonight, you're on my mind so You never know Broken down...

"The Mom Song" Get up now Get up now Get up out of bed Wash your face Brush your teeth Comb your sleepyhead Here's your clothes and your shoes Hear the words I said Get up now! Get up and make your bed Are you hot? Are you cold? Are you wearing that?...

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room....