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Destroyer
Destroyer


Background information
Origin Vancouver, BC, Canada
Genre(s) Chamber Pop
Indie Rock
Years active 1995—present
Label(s) Merge Records
Associated acts Swan Lake
The New Pornographers
Hello, Blue Roses
Bonaparte
Members
Dan Bejar



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  D  →  Destroyer  →  Albums  →  City of Daughters

Destroyer Album


City of Daughters (1998)
1998
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Emax I
6.
7.
8.
Emax II
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
Emax III
14.
15.
16.
17.
. . .


O, to shy away from days of opulence,
Of fakings, and false-starts.
Open up the chests of all our best men.
We don't demand villainry,
We demand a new dawn.
Girls are foxes.
Boys are boxers
His and Hers troubled ambassadors
Whose times have yet to come.
There are no locks, there are no keys,
Only excecutors and executees.
What will our cut come to
With minds so new, with mouths so clean?

. . .


"Think globally. Act Nobly.
The ties that bind us blind us."
I know that's what they told you,
And you know that that's not true.
When my heart becomes golden,
You will show them and then
Show them what to do.
But for now:
Assail, and assaults,
The divides, and the faults.
This must be all that we think of.

There is no time to stop and admire the Admirals
When we still have Lieutenants to kill.
There is no time to see it in another vein
Or, perhaps, a different light.
There are too many things
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want you to do.

"The new Hunter-Kings
Of Summers and Springs;
They walk beside us to guide us."
I know that's what they told you,
And you know that that's not true.
When their hearts unfold, pick out the black.
It's the silver ones far between the few.
But for now:
Assail, and assaults the divides and the faults.
This must be all that we think of.

There is no time to stop and admire the Admirals
When we still have Lieutenants to kill.
There is no time to see it in another vein.
Shed another way of light.
There are too many things
I want you
I want you
I want you

I want no cease-fires! No cease-fires!
Let there be no history tonight!
These are crimes against the State of Our Love now, baby.
No cease-fires! No cease-fires!
These are crimes against the State of Our Love.
Place your hand in my hand.
Discover the millennia this way.
Here comes The Day

. . .


Search you'll find no flies
On a parabol this size no you won't
With all our flagrant passes
We incur upon the people
To privatize the monuments
And publicize that steeples don't hurt anymore

Then they used to hurt

Race the ramparts high
'neath the canopy of lies as it were
Amidst the subtle traces
Whether particle or bone
We detect a weakness, yes
The sense we have honed don't work anymore

And they used to work

Amidst the subtle traces
Whether particle or bone
We detect a weakness, yes
The sense we have honed don't work anymore

Then they used to work

One could say we've lost the space race
One could say we've lost the space race
One could say we've lost the space race
And another one could say we're won

. . .


Maybe it stands to reason:
Boys set fire to the seasons.
They fight to beg, they try to be bigger than
The times will allow the times to be.

That's not to say
The Open Road or an open driveway
Will come to a view that suits us,
Or improves upon our purposes.
Something could be worse than this.

It's true: you're the one I came for.
Two people, they couldn't agree more.
Just my luck...
Who goes there?
'Friend of a Friend' again.
It's true: you're the one I came for.
Two people, they couldn't agree more.
Just my luck...
Who goes there?
'Friend or Accopmplice to Horrible Ends.'

This trellis you really didn't make;
Well if I can't pass through, then who?
The flowers surround us, the power's a plus.
But if I can't get through, then who will get through?
If I can't get through, then who will get through to you?

It's true: you're the one I came for.
Two people, they couldn't agree more.
Just my luck...
Who goes there?
'Friend of a Friend' again.
It's true: you're the one I came for.
Two people, they couldn't agree more.
Just my luck...
Who goes there?
'Friend or Accopmplice to Horrible Ends.'

Byproduct of yesterday's trades, he is
Byproduct of yesterday's trades, he is
Byproduct of yesterday's trades, he is
Byproduct of yesterday's trades

. . .

Emax I

[No lyrics]

. . .


Two French sisters on a DC-10
Sped from Dallas. Just imagine them:
Peppering their respected speeches with
Commas and cupids
And I-Don't-Wanna's, I-Don't-Think-So's.

It snows here in Sasquatch Country
Where the criminal element runs free.
Two singular eyes spied them,
A cyclops second goes by them,
When, upon their arrival, they say
(in a dispirited-but-comely way),
"I want this cyclops."

Two French sisters on a DC-10
Sped from Dallas. Just imagine them:
Peppering their respected speeches with
Commas and cupids
And I-Don't-Wanna's, I-Don't-Think-So's slow.

It's slow here in Sasquatch Country
Where the criminal element runs free.
One singular eye spies them,
A sloppy second goes by them,
When, upon their arrival, they say
(in a dispirited-but-comely way),
"I want this cyclops."

. . .


Rip the badges from our breasts just like the others.
Impenitent Brothers sway to the song
Of a new heretical dawn.
We were right to fight,
Subsumed by dumb clay.
The sweet spirit must stay.

I'm so...
I don't know, what's the word?
My grasp of the verb is a weak one.
Your grammar's a playground for fun.

Tear the emblems from our sleeves just like the others.
Apostate Brothers, please stay for the dawn of a new day.
Watch the sun come up from the mud.
Our cups are empty,
Our wine has turned to ether that's good and fine.

Nothing does a body good like another body.
Nothing does a body good like another body.
Nothing does a body good like another body.
Nothing does a body good like another body

. . .

Emax II

[No lyrics]

. . .


Once again,
A wreck
On the observation deck.
Watching the news come in,
Watching the books burn,
What did you learn?
I learned girls are great
Grated on my plate.
And boys are best
Served with a stake through the chest.
An overwhelming yes for
State of the Union from an unlisted address.

Your pissed-up Yes Man
Belted the bride today
He voted 'No', now there's nowhere to hide.

Maybe I know where to run.
Brother, I know where to hide, maybe.
I know where to run, Brother.
I know where to hide

. . .


I am no longer who I am no longer.
It's all ad nauseam to you,
Albeit abetted by the first four amounts.
I counted them up at the fountain I founded.
For you, back at school, everything was true.

I am a tastemaker and I kill things.
I am not a tastemaker and I kill things,
Albeit acquitted on the first four counts.
The compilation released by the nation I founded for you
Back at school.
Everything was true.
Ridiculously cool.

I am no longer who I am no longer.
It's all ad nauseam to you,
Albeit abetted by the first four amounts.
They rounded us up by the walls that I never stormed for you.
Back at school, everything was true

. . .


Some things we simply must stand for.
Power goes to the chords and such
A stately whole note as yours
At least widely touted as such.

Some things we simply must stand for.
Power goes to the chords and such
A semi-precious half note as yours
At least highly regarded as such.

But Melanie 'went gold,'
She won't accept your best wishes anymore.
And Jennifer, your halter top... a consecrated altar, but
I've wrung my hands and knees in shame there
One-too-many times.
And what, specifically, about me made you choose
To occupy the most absent stage of beauty:
So complete, and so serene, and so sweet?

You'll be new at what you do for a long time.
Still, victory isn't mine.
I've traced your every move then erased them
With a cartographer's drunken haste.
You'll be new at what you do a long time.
Still, victory isn't mine.
I've traced your every move then erased them
With a cartographer's drunken haste.

But Melanie 'went gold,'
She won't accept your best wishes anymore.
And Jennifer, your halter top... a consecrated altar, but
I've wrung my hands and knees in shame there
One-too-many times.
And what, specifically, about me made you choose
To occupy the most absent stage of beauty:
So innocuous, so complete and so...

But Melanie 'went gold,'
She won't accept your best wishes anymore.
And Jennifer, your halter top... a consecrated altar, but
I've wrung my hands and knees in shame there
One-too-many times.
And what, specifically, about me made you choose
To occupy the most absent stage of beauty:
So innocuous, so complete and so sweet?

. . .


Land-lovers refuse to understand that others
Need the sea like we need the sand
Why surprised then when your hands have yet to crack from the clapping
It happens more often than not:
That you applaud for the play, half an act and then an act
And then it all goes away
A play, half an act, and then an act
A play, half an act, and then an act
Newly-husbanded to your voice likes a choice
To twice remove me four times from you
Newly husbanded to your voice
Husbanded to your voice
Our mouths are outdone by the dross
Done in with what we filled them with
Newly husbanded to her voice, someone chooses
To twice remove all that he loses
Outlandish schemes for the Andover dreams
We've weaned ourselves off of
And off of, and off of, and off of
And off of, and off of, and off of
And off of, and off of, and off of

. . .

Emax III

[No lyrics]

. . .


You were so cruel, and it was her house.
You were so cruel, and it was her house.
The way she mounted the staircase... the grace!
No one could say, "I can do that like that, stand back!"

But you were so cruel, and it was her house.
You were so cruel, and it was her house.
Who cracked her favorite death rattle?
Who started snapping all the straps?
An exercise in crowd control; tactile and bold.

Something that never should've happened happens.
Something that never should've happened happens.
Something that never should've happened happens.
Something that never should've happened happens.

Oh, you were so cruel, and it was her house.
You were so cruel, and it was her house.
You were so cruel, and it was her house.
You swore before you'd crush those horns

. . .


The bird is not the word.
Quit being so cryptic with the way you rock and swerve.
Remove your shoes,
Panic ensues.
Nothing left to do.
If you don't believe in recompense,
Who will fix the fence for you?

Don't wanna clear the floor anymore.
Her interests are classical at best.
Bested modern times, modern minds.
Signs, signs, everywhere signs

. . .


The lecture halls we filled in the Fall fell through.
The pedagogue in me asked, "What have you read lately?"
(A pleasantry the blonde in you responded to...)
You won't go into the half of it, so I'm going to nitpick.

The exegesis comes quick to whoever's less sorry now.
I've forgotten you've a right to be rotten
With the killer-instincts of an old flame who's slain you.
I just finished the book, and some of it's true.

Disgusted by the rust on a voice that you never use...
How could you expect your Jesuit sect to play here?
The fake book dates back to Iberia.
You won't go into the half of it, so I'm going to nitpick.

The exegesis comes quick to whoever's less sorry now.
I've forgotten you've a right to be rotten
With the killer-instincts of an old flame who's slain you.
I just finished the book, and some of it's true.

What will you burn for warmth?
Will you keep a husband this season?
Who could take you on?
Itinerant as the day is long...
You won't go into the half of it, so I'm going to nitpick.

The exegesis comes quick to whoever's less sorry now.
I've forgotten you've a right to be rotten
With the killer-instincts of an old flame who's slain you.
I just finished the book, and some of it's true.
I just finished the book, and some of it's true.
I just finished the book, and some of it's true

. . .


So slowly goes the day of hounding you for more.
This is a little song. It's short; it's not that long.
This is a brittle bone. You cast away the stone.
You refrain, though one question remains:

"What do you give to someone who has it all?
What do you give to someone who has it all?"

They break into the store; go girlish down the aisle.
This is a little one. The manager is dumb.
A petty incident, although the case is strong.
You could say, though one question remains:

"What do you give to someone who has it all?
What do you give to someone who has it all?"

My shippin' days are done.
I'm lonely all the time.
I'm in the cash cow now.
Cash in now, honey

. . .


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