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 Everything Right Is Wrong Again... Everything right is wrong again Just like in the long long trailer All the dishes got broken and the car kept driving And nobody would stop to save her Wake me when it's over, touch my face Tell me every word has been erasaed Don't you want to know the reason why the cupboard's not apealing Don't you get the feeling that Everything that's right is wrong again You're a weasel overcome with dinge Weasel overcome but not before the damage done The healing doesn't stop the feeling And now the song is over now Everything right is wrong again Every movement false, every four is waltz again Every five and dime's been gained and spent Tell me that you like my float upstream Draw the line dividing laugh and scream You know everything that I know so I know You've heard the voice that makes the silent noise Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head... As your body floats down Third Street With the burn-smell factory closing up Yes it's sad to say you will romanticize All the things you've known before It was not so great And as you take a bath in that beaten path there's a punding at the door It's a mighty zombie talking of some love and posterity He says "The good old days never say good-bye if you keep this in your mind: You need some loving arms" And as you fall from grace the only words you say are Put your hand insode the puppet head Ads up in the subway are the work of someone Trying to please their boss And though the guy's a pig we all know what he wants Is just to please somebody else If the puppet head was only busted in It would be a better thing for everyone involved and we wouldn't have to cry Put your hand inside the puppet head Quit my job down at the carwash Didn't have to write no good-bye note That reads: "The check's in the mail, and I'll see you in church, and don't you ever change" If the puppet head was only busted in I'll see you after school Put your hand inside the puppet head Number Three... There's only two songs in me and I just wrote the third Don't know where I got the inspiration or how I wrote the words Spent my whole life just digging up my music's shallow grave For the two songs in me and the third one I just made A rich man once told me "Hey life's a funny thing" A poor may once told me That he can't afford to speak Now I'm in the middle like a bird without a beak 'cause There's just two songs in me and I just wrote the third Don't know where I got the inspiration or how I wrote the words Spent my whole life just digging up my music's shallow grave For the two songs in me and the third one I just made I went to the President And I asked old what's-his-name Has he ever gotten writer's block Or something like the same He just started talking Like he was on TV "If there's just two songs in ya, boy Whaddya want from me?" So I bought myself some denim pants And a silver guitar But I politely told the ladies "You'll still have to call me Sir Because I have to keep my self-respect I'll never be a star Since there's just two songs in me and this is Number Three" Don't Let's Start... Don't let's start This is the worst part Could believe for all the world That you're my precious little girl But don't let's start I've got a weak heart And I don't get around how you get around When you are alone you are the cat, you are the phone You are an animal The words I'm singing now Mean nothing more than meow to an animal Wake up and smell the cat food in your bank account But don't try to stop the tail that wags the hound D, world destruction Over and overture N, do I need Apostrophe T, need this torture? No one in the world ever gets what they want and that is beautiful Everybody dies frustrated and sad and that is beautiful They want what they're not and I wish they would stop saying, Deputy dog dig a ding dang depadepa I don't want to live in this world anymore I don't want to live in this world Hide Away Folk Family... Hide away folk family Or else someone's gonna get ya Hide away folk family Better hide away Tippy-toe to the front door, Mother, Because there's a guy with a long, long fuse And the one thing you can't hide is all the fear you feel inside And the fuse is spelling out these words Tippy-toe to the flat-bed, Father, Because they're pouring out our gasoline And sadly the cross-eyed bear's been put to sleep behind the stairs And his shoes are laced with irony 32 Footsteps... 32 footsteps leading to the room where the paint doesn't want to dry 32 footsteps running down the road where the dirt reaches the sky 32 feathers in my brand-new Indian headdress 32 new moons shining in 32 skies What's the reason, why'd she go? Where's my baby, I don't know 32 footsteps, counted them myself, 32 footsteps What's the reason, why'd she go? Where's my baby, I don't know 32 footsteps, counted them myself, 32 footsteps 32 lies my ears never saw when the floorboards gave way 32 walls come tumbling down and the night turns to day 32 infantrymen running in place 32 boxcars, all of them have your face What's the reason, why'd she leave? Don't you know we're on the eve of 32 footsteps? Counted them myself, 32 footsteps Toddler Highway... In the morning sun around seven o'clock The parking lot fills around Toys-R-Us And my little girl, she will get away Ride her bike down Toddler Highway Take your Close'n'Play Toddler Highway Rabid Child... Rabid child stays at home, talks on a CB Truckers pass calling out their handles to the kid Chess Piece Face and The Big Duluth call her every day "Hammer down" and "rabbit ears" are the only words they know If you pass the rabid child say "hammer down" for me The rabid child Nothing's Gonna Change My Clothes... All the people are so happy now, their heads are caving in I'm glad they are a snowman with protective rubber skin But every little thing's a domino that falls on different dots And crashes into everything that tries to make it stop And the mirror, it reflects a tiny dancing skeleton Surrounded by a fleshy overcoat and swaddled in A furry hat, elastic mask, a pair of shiny marble dice Some people call them snake-eyes, but to me they look like mice And nothing's smelling like a rose But I don't care if no one's coming up for air I know nothing's gonna change my clothes ever anymore (She Was A) Hotel Detective... She's got her ear to the walls and she's tappin' the calls If you've got a secret boy, forget about it, 'cause she's a Hotel Detective Why don't you check her out Well the bellhop is funky The dumbwaiter's a monkey If there's a knock at the door, boy, forget about it, 'cause she's a Hotel Detective She says she likes my face She says she owns the place Forget about it, 'cause she's a Hotel Detective Come on and swing with me >From the top of a tree And make me feel like a bee That's where I want to know you She's An Angel... I met someone at the dog show She was holding my left arm But everyone was acting normal so I tried to look nonchalant. We both said, "I really love you," The Shriners loaned us cars We raced up and down the sidewalk twenty thousand million times Why did they send her over anyone else? How should I react? These things happen to other people They don't happen at all, in fact When you're following an angel Does it mean you have to throw your body off a building? Somewhere they're meeting on a pinhead Calling you an angel, calling you the nicest things I heard they had a space program When they sing you can't hear, there's no air Sometimes I think I kind of like that and Other times I think I'm already there Gonna ask for my admission Gonna speak to the man in charge The secretary says he's on another line, Can I hold for a long, long time? I found out she's an angel I don't think she knows I know I'm worried that something might happen to me If anyone ever finds out Youth Culture Killed My Dog... Youth culture killed my dog And I don't think it's fair And his suicide can be justified By the tastemakers, how they cried and cried Bacharach and David used to write his favorite songs Never would he worry, he'd just run and fetch the ball But the night lights and my dog's life aren't exactly one and the same Youth culture killed my dog And I don't think it's fair And the judgement made in the city of hate Just broke his spirit so Bacharach and David used to write his favorite songs Never would he worry, he'd just run and fetch the ball But the hiphop and the white funk just blew away my puppy's mind I don't understand what you did to my dog Youth culture killed my dog And I don't think it's fair And his suicide can be justified By the tastemakers, how they cried and cried Boat Of Car... I took my boat for a car I took that car for a ride I was trying to get somewhere But now I'm following the traces of your fingernails That run along the windshield on the boat of car Traces of your fingernails that run along the windshield On the board of car Absolutely Bill's Mood... I was born in a lighthouse, my mother was the sea I crawled to school each morning, when it occured to me That life's just a mood ring we're not allowed to see And this is what it said to me My room is comfortably small With rubber lining the walls And there's someone always calling my name He calls when I'm alone And he calls when I'm not home And he calls when I'm stuck out in the rain I'm insane Now listen all you swingers, don't you try to tag along I know monkey see, but monkey's dead, for you it would be wrong Put a dime in my jukebox, you'll only hear this song And it won't be fun for long Chess Piece Face... What's gonna happen to Chess Piece Face There I go but for my face All I know could be defaced by the facts in the life of Chess Piece Face I don't know where he lives Or if he knows to sail Or if little schemes like this one ever cross his trail But I don't believe he's dreaming Or if he cares to know So I shudder in my lampshade So, what's gonna happen to Chess Piece Face There I go but for my face All I know could be defaced by the facts in the life of Chess Piece Face Hope That I Get Old Before I Die... Sometimes I feel like being wispy And once in a while I feel like being dry But we're doomed and we're drowned by this feeling we surround So I hope that I get old before I die It's a long, long rope they use to hang you soon I hope And I wonder why this hasn't happened Why why why And I think about the dirt that I'll be wearing for a shirt And I hope that I get old before I die Clear off the kitchen table darling For on the kitchen table I must lie I'm just tired for my wife just served the banquet of my life And I hope that I get old before I die Alienation's For The Rich... I got to get a job Got to get some pay My son's gotta go to art school He's leaving in three days And the TV's in Esperanto You know that that's a bitch But alienation's for the rich And I'm getting poorer every day Well I ain't feeling happy About the state of things in my life But I'm working to make it better With a six of Miller High Life Just drinking and a-driving Making sure my dues get paid Because alienation's for the rich And I'm feeling poorer every day The Day... The day Marvin Gaye and Phil Ochs got married The trees all waved their giant arms And happiness bled from every streetcorner And biplanes bombed with fluffy pillows The day Marvin Gaye and Phil Ochs got married The trees all waved their giant arms And happiness bled from every streetcorner And biplanes bombed with fluffy pillows Rhythm Section Want Ad... In a world we call our own there's lots of room to roam Plenty of time to turn mistakes into rhyme There's a place for those who love their poetry It's just across from the sign that says, "Pros only" So if you like a band with a chick singer, Say your cup of tea is a wall of trombones If you dig Menudo, or MDC we salute you the way we know For every one with dollar signs in his eyes There must be hundreds who look at you as if you're some kind of Rhythm section want ad No others need apply to the rhythm section want ad I'll tell you why Hats off to the new age hairstyle made of bones Hats off to the use of hats as megaphones Speak softly, drive a Sherman tank Laugh hard, it's a long way to the bank Do you sing like Olive Oyl on purpose You guys must be into the Eurythmics For every one with dollar signs in his eyes There must be hundreds who look at you as if you're some kind of Rhythm section want ad No others need apply to the rhythm section want ad And here's the reason why go back to my they might be giants page |