Bauhaus Album

Caressing bent up to the jug again
With sheaths and pills
Invading all those stills
In a hovel of a bed
I will scream in vain
Oh please miss Lane
Leave me with some pain
Went walking through this city's neon lights
In fear of disguising my warping seathing
Pressure lines and graceless heirs
Intangible of price
Trying so hard to find what? What was right
I came upon your room it stuck into my head
We leapt into the bed degrading even lice
You took delight in taking down
All my shielded pride
Until exposed became my darker side
Puckering up and down some avenue of sin
Too cheap to ride they're worth a try
If only for the old times cold times
Don't go waving your pretentious love
He's soliciting on his tan brown brogues
Girating through some lonesome devils row
Pinpointing well meaning upper class prey
Of walking money checks posessing holes
He often sleekly offers his services
Exploitation of his finer years
Work with loosely woven fabrics
Of lonely office clerks
Any lay suffices his dollar green eye

I dare you, to be real
To touch a flickering flame
The pangs of dark delight
Don't cower in night fright

Don't back away just yet
From destinations set
I dare you to be proud
To dare to shout aloud
For convictions that you feel
Like sound from bells to peal
I dare you to speak of your despise
For bureaucracy, hypocracy- all liars

I dare
I dare
I dare- you- you

A gut pull drag on me
Into the chasm gaping we
Mirrors multy reflecting this
Between spunk stained sheet
And odourous whim
Calmer eye- flick- shudder- within
Assist me to walk away in sin
Where is the string that Theseus laid
Find me out this labyrinth place

I do get bored, I get bored
In the flat field
I get bored, I do get bored
In the flat field

Yin and Yang lumber punch
Go taste a tart then eat my lunch
And force my slender thin and lean
In this solemn place of fill wetting dreams
Of black matted lace of pregnant cows
As life maps out onto my brow
The card is lowered in index turn
Into my filing cabinet hemispheres spurn

I do get bored, I get bored
In the flat field
I get bored, I do get bored
In the flat field

Let me catch the slit of light
For a maiden's sake
On a maiden flight
In the flat field I do get bored
Replace with Picadilly whores
In my yearn for some cerebral fix
Transfer me to that solid plain
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
Moulding shapes no shame to waste
And drag me there with deafening haste

Go and look for the dejected
Once proud idol remembered in stone aloud
Then on coins his face was mirrored
Take a look it soon hath slithered
To a fractured marble slab, renunciation clad
His nourishment extract from his subjects, subjects
That mass production profile

He's a God in an alcove

Once he spread the rain
So they dreamt in vain
Once he spread the wheat
Had made some garlands for his feet
Until the lily poet of our times
Horizoned on the line
Love became the in theme then
Opposing fakers thrice by ten
Don't perceive his empty plea
That redundant effigy

He's a God in an alcove

Take in view his empty stool
What's left is satin cool
Clawing adornment for his crimes
They saw they had to draw the line
So they sent him far away
So they sent him far away
To a little alcove
To a little alcove
All alone

He's a God, a God

Now I am silly
Now I am silly
Silly, silly, silly, silly
Silly

We're going down
We're going down
We're going down
To the kamikaze dive

Fishnet leatherette
Pussy Galore
Pseudo Sumo wrestler
On the door
Dangerous dances
The dragon's claw
K-Tel Oriental
The monkey's paw

You're a dead ringer
For Madame Butterfly
Snappy little fingers
Stitch my thigh
You're so necromantic
Venomous and vain
Mixing molotov cocktails
In the subterrain

We're going down to the kamikazi dive
Like insects in a Chinese lantern now
We're feeling so alive, what's showing?
We're going down to the kamikaze dive
Like manic moths in Chinese lanterns now
We're feeling so alive, what's showing?

Hidden in the dashboard
The unseen mechanized eye
Under surveillance
The road is full of cats eyes
It's sick function to pry
The spy in the cab

Coldly observing- callously reserving
A drivers time
Automated autonomy
Playing on his mind
The spy in the cab

The spy in the cab

An eye for an eye
A spy for an eye
An eye for an eye
A spy for a spy

A twenty-four hour unblinking watch
Installed to pry
Installed to cop
The spy in the cab
The spy in the cab
The spy in the cab

I spy with my little eye spy with my little I spy with my
Little eye spy with my little I spy... spy... spy

Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks
See the young man in his new gown
Talking up to his bouffant drag
He say he loves you with flowers
Something that he's never had
A sentence should be like a serpent
Quick with a sting in its tail
String me a line that has meaning and depth
There's no small talk with walky talkies
Small talk stinks

I said it stinks
Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks

You whisper sweet nothings chit-chat back-chat
There's no idle gossip in braille
Taking combs three times a day
Twice an hour
Identikit cute lips from wall to wall
Stand in line for the photo call
See the young man in his new gown
Talking up to his bouffant drag
Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks
Small talk stinks

Back in the good old dance when dancing meant exploding
The idea was simple for a decent overloading
And for a multiple flash with no cords attached
He came up with a more remote flash trigger
It's connected to an accessory in his hip
Which automatically fires in perfect synchro
But perhaps his most exciting development is his angle
They call it the dance
It's the St. Vitus dance
Such flexibility
What an accessory
See his soft bounce
What flexibility
Such a soft bounce
What an accessory

And for special effects he has six filters
Three coloured red with the others pilfered
And if you really want to know what that means
He could throw a blue flash from eighty-five feet
Of course you might want to check out your own little output
So we devised a few simple and easy to crack contortions
So you can bump and scrape all the day through
With the dance.
It's the St. Vitus dance, the St. Vitus dance
Such flexibility
What an accessory
Such a soft bounce
What flexibility
Such a soft bounce
Check his hot shoe
Feel his output
He's a light machine, see his angle
He's a light machine

In a crucifiction ecstasy
Lying cross chequed in agony
Stigmata bleed continuously
Holes in head, hands, feet, and weep for me

Stigmata oh you sordid sight
Stigmata in your splintered plight
Look into your crimson orifice
In holy remembrance
In scarlet bliss

In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
In nomine patri et filii et spiriti sanctum
Father, son, and holy ghost
Stigmata Martyr

Nerve ends tick in flicker book animation
One eye's closed in fear, anticipation
Will it stay shut? Will it ever open?
What if?
What if?
Nerves

Tell tale tongues lick at seven senses
Brittle spittle sparks you are defenseless
The fabric of dreams is ripped apart
As you feel the twist of the shadowed dagger
In your pumping heart
Nerves

Nerves liky nylon, Nerves like steel
Nerves liky nylon, Nerves like steel
Nerves liky nylon, Nerves like steel

A trail of random cutlery cuts a dash in the concrete underpass
Sense of serenity is shattered in the glint of splintered glass

Nerves

Nerves
Nerves

Nerves liky nylon, Nerves like steel
Nerves liky nylon, Nerves like steel
Nerves liky nylon, Nerves like steel

Telegram Sam
Telegram Sam
You're my main man

Golden nose slim
Golden nose slim
I know's where you been

Purple pie Pete
Purple pie Pete
Your lips are like lightning
Girls melt in the heat

Telegram Sam
You're my main man
(x2)

Bobby's alright
Bobby's alright
He's a natural-born poet
He's just outta sight

Jungle-faced Jake
Jungle-faced Jake
I say make no mistake
About Jungle-faced Jake

Automatic shoes
Automatic shoes
Give me 3-D vision
And the California blues

Me I funk
But I don't care
I ain't no square with my corkscrew hair

Telegram Sam
Telegram Sam
I'm a howlin' wolf for you

(john cale)
Virgin Mary was tired
So tired
Tired of listening to gossip
Gossip and complaints

They came from next door

And a bewildered stream of chatter
From all sorts of
All sorts of
Untidy whores

Came from next door
Came from next door

But some men are chosen from the rest
But their disappointment runs with their guests
Never would be invited to the funeral rosegarden

But their choice don't seem to matter
They got swollen breasts and lips that putter
And their choice of matter and their scream of chatter
Is just a little parasitic scream of whores
Screaming whores
In the rosegarden funeral of sores

Virgin Mary was tired
So tired of listening to gossip
Gossip and complaints

In the
In the
Rosegarden
Rosegarden funeral of sores

His eyes were heavy
He carried a card
One couple question
The other discharged
Terror couple kill colonel
in his West German home
Three shots from three feet
Dragged himself to the phone

Terror couple kill colonel
Terror couple kill colonel

And as he lay there
Playing games with his pain
He felt his choice of jobs
Was such a mistake
He could have been a doctor
In a soft easy chair
In stead he chose three stars
A territorial affair

Terror couple kill colonel
Terror couple kill colonel

In his West German home
In his West German home
In his West German home

Scopes
Scopes
Scopes
Scopes
Electroscope
Galvanascope
Hydroscope
Polemescope
Telescope
Microscope
Sizemoscope
Periscope
Polariscope
Kaleidoscope
Stethoscope

The twenty scopes
The twenty scopes
The twenty scopes
The twenty scopes
The twenty scopes

The night the ?
Ring a ring of rosies
A pocket full of posies
A tissue
A tissue

(sneeze)

Go and look for the dejected
Once proud idol remembered in stone aloud
Then on coins his face was mirrored
Take a look it soon hath slithered
To a fractured marble slab, renunciation clad
His nourishment extract from his subjects, subjects
That mass production profile

He's a God in an alcove

Once he spread the rain
So they dreamt in vain
Once he spread the wheat
Had made some garlands for his feet
Until the lily poet of our times
Horizoned on the line
Love became the in theme then
Opposing fakers thrice by ten
Don't perceive his empty plea
That redundant effigy

He's a God in an alcove

Take in view his empty stool
What's left is satin cool
Clawing adornment for his crimes
They saw they had to draw the line
So they sent him far away
So they sent him far away
To a little alcove
To a little alcove
All alone

He's a God, a God

Now I am silly
Now I am silly
Silly, silly, silly, silly
Silly

What do you want of me
What do you long from me
A slim Pixie, thin and forlorn
A count, white and drawn
What do you make of me
What can you take from me
Pallid landscapes off my frown
Let me rip you up and down

For you I came to forsake
Lay wide despise and hate
I sing of you in my demented songs
For you and your stimulations
Take what you can of me
Rip what you can off me
And this I'll say to you
And hope that it gets through

You worthless bitch
You fickle shit
You would spit on me
You would make me spit
And when the Judas hour arrives
And like the Jesus Jews you epitomize
I'll still be here as strong as you
And I'll walk away in spite of you

And I'll walk away
Walk away
(repeat)