| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 1:19 | 
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Here I am back home again
I'm here to rest All they ask is where I've been Knowing I've been West I'm the family's unowned boy Golden curls of envied hair Pretty girls with faces fair See the shine in the Black Sheep Boy If you love me you'll let me live in peace Please understand That the Black Sheep can wear the golden fleece And hold a winning hand I'm the family's unowned boy Golden curls of envied hair Pretty girls with faces fair See the shine in the Black Sheep Boy I'm the family's unowned boy Golden curls of envied hair Pretty girls with faces fair See the shine in the Black Sheep Boy |
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| 2. |
| 4:43 |
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Some nights I thirst for real blood
For real knives For real cries And then the flash of steel from real guns In real life Really fills my mind And I really miss what really did exist When I held your throat so tight And I miss the bus as it swerved from us Almost came crashing to its side Sometimes the blood from real cuts Feels real nice When it's really mine And if you want it to be real Come over for one night And we can really, really climb And those blue bridge lights might really burn most bright As we watch that dark lake rise And if you really want to see what really matters most to me Just take a real short drive It's just a drive into the dark stretch Long stretch of night Will really stretch this shaking mind And this room, unlit, unheated And the ceiling striped And the dark black blinds I want to know this time if you're really finally mine I need to know that you're not lying so I want to see you tried And I don't want to hear you say it shouldn't really be this way 'Cause I like this way just fine 'Cause there's nothing quite like the blinding light That curtains cast aside And no attempt is made to explain away The things that really, really, really, really, really are behind You can't hide You can't hide You can't hide You can't hide You can't hide You can't hide |
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| 3. |
| 5:39 |
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Black, black sheep boy, blue-eyed charmer, head hanging with horns from your father - oh, in a cold little mirror you were grown, by a black little wind you were blown, alone, alone, alone. Sad smile on your lips, you shake and shiver. Some animal sips where the river flows from a black little crack in a stone. To a crackle in a radio song, sing along, sing along, sing along. Warm light when your eyes fill with laughter. Some animal lies in the pasture, holes in its throat where the blood was drawn, in its mouth where the tongue was torn by your claws, your claws, your claws. I rose from a dream; we were running from every being that was hunting, but we let them get ahead of us. We let them lie in wait for us. We're fucked, we're fucked, we're fucked. I rose from a dream; I had just destroyed everything with one crushing blow, and I woke up and watched it go, and I woke up and wagged my tongue. So long, so long, so
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| 4. |
| 4:39 |
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I'm coming into your town. Night is falling to the ground, but I can still see where you loved yourself before he tore it all down. April 12th, with nobody else around; you were outside the house (where's your mother?), when he put you in the car, when he took you down the road. And I can still see where it was open, the door he slammed closed. It was open, the door he slammed closed. It was open, long ago. But don't lose me now, don't lose me now. Though I know that I'm not useful anyhow, just let me stick around while I tell you, like before, you should say his name the way that he said yours. But you don't want to say his name anymore. Oh, Cynda Moore. Baby daughter on the road, you're wrapped up warm in daddy's coat. And I can still see the cigarette's heat. I can't believe all that you're telling me, what is cutting like the smoke through your teeth as you're telling me ??짖€??"forget it.??짖€???? But if I could tear his throat, and spill his blood between my jaws, and erase his name for good, don't you know that I would? Don't you realize I wouldn't pause, that I would cut him down with my claws if I could have somehow never let that happen? Or I'd call, some black midnight, fuck up his new life where they don't know what he did, tell his brand-new wife and his second kid. Though I tell you, like before, that you should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours, you want no part of his life anymore. Oh Cynda Moore, don't lose me now, let me help you out. Though I know that I can't help you anyhow, when I watch you I'm proud. When I tell you twice before that you should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours, you want no part of his life anymore. Oh Cynda Moore. And it'll never be the way it was before, but I wish that you would let me through that door. Let me through that door, baby.
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| 5. |
| 3:56 |
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??짖€??"Once we get to the end of this song, then it will begin again.??짖€???? So you said in our bed. I was watching light slip through blinds to find your skin. ??짖€??"So take your medicine and I won't ask where you've been. Live your lost weekend, I know you've wanted it. Get big, little kid. And I can't say why each day doesn't quite fit the space we saved for it.??짖€???? But if that space now demands that you throw up both your hands and call it quits... ??짖€??"Take your midnight trip. I know you've dreamed of it. Walk your sunset strip, because I think you've needed it to get big, little kid. But just remember that our love only got this good because of the younger days that you'd like to outstrip. So drink your cup down to the dregs and leave that club on shaking legs with another guy, but remember: I'm not him. Take your medicine and I won=t ask where you've been. Live your lost weekend, I know you've wanted it. Get big, little kid. And once we get to the end of this song, then another will b
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| 6. |
| 3:23 |
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If you want to see and be seen, then be seen. Your dress is dark red and your opening eyes are bright green. Make a scene, but don't lie on the bed, laid out like you're dead, because honey, you're murdering me. Be a little sheep learning who'll shear and who'll feed. The hands come and they leave. Be hands holding a knife. Be a being on two feet, with his heart trembling, butchering for a king he believes in though he's never seen. Be the princess in that stone tower, crying for that handsome butcher's plight (and, as some princess might, she still calls him a knight.) But the best thing for you would be queen, so be queen. You're all that I need. Though I know that it never can be, I'd be pleased to post your decrees, to fall at your knees, to name all your streets and to sit down and weep when you're carried back through them and set down to sleep, and to lie by your side for sublime centuries (until we crumble to dust when we're crushed by a single sun
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| 7. |
| 5:23 |
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Hot breath, rough skin, warm laughs and smiling, the loveliest words whispered and meant - you like all these things. But, though you like all these things, you love a stone. You love a stone, because it's smooth and it's cold. And you'd love most to be told that it's all your own. You love white veins, you love hard grey, the heaviest weight, the clumsiest shape, the earthiest smell, the hollowest tone - you love a stone. And I'm found too fast, called too fond of flames, and then I'm phoning my friends, and then I'm shouldering the blame, while you're picking pebbles out of the drain, miles ago. You're out singing songs, and I'm down shouting names at the flickerless screen, going fucking insane. Am I losing my cool, overstating my case? Well, baby, what can I say? You know I never claimed that I was a stone. And you love a stone. You love white veins, you love hard grey, the heaviest weight, the clumsiest shape, the earthiest smell, the hollowest tone - you love a stone. You love a stone, because it's dark, and it's old, and if it could start being alive you'd stop living alone. And I think I believe that, if stones could dream, they'd dream of being laid side-by-side, piece-by-piece, and turned into a castle for some towering queen they're unable to know. And when that queen's daughter came of age, I think she'd be lovely and stubborn and brave, and suitors would journey from kingdoms away to make themselves known. And I think that I know the bitter dismay of a lover who brought fresh bouquets every day when she turned him away to remember some knave who once gave just one rose, one day, years ago...
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| 8. |
| 3:11 |
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ll the latest toughs, you've got to shrug them off or shut them off. With ten-thousand-time-told truths, you've still got to ask for proof. Ask for proof, because if you're dying to be led they'll lead you up the hill in chains to their popular refrains until your slaughter's been arranged, my little lamb, and it's much too late to talk the knife out of their hands. Well, I woke up on a foggy morning. Hiding from the sun, he was hiding from the sun. But it came out and it shot its rays down. Burning everyone, it was burning everyone. But they were dying, anyway, to turn to ash, to feel their feelings flash and finally fade away, in a fabulous and fiery display. Look, though, I don't know what notes you want to hear played, I can't think what lines you'd like me to sing or say, and I'm not sure what subjects you want mentioned. So pause and add your own intentions. We've included a form you can print out and fill out and send below:
___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ ___________________________________ All the latest toughs, well, we have seen that stuff, and we have seen enough blood in dying coughs, which means that we have lost. We have lost, and if you're crying to be tossed they'll toss you down the oubliette with all the old things that you let yourself forget because you'd like to love a star who'd throw you down below the ground he thinks you are. |
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| 9. |
| 3:23 |
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> Remember when our so-called friend would not call out to you while tumbling loosely out a hole punched through your home? Its pretty clear, though you could hear, you truly finally knew, in time, hed tell his tale the way hed like it told. Now he isnt on the phone, and his story might as well be so. Well, loving is as loving does, and Id say we should know, because we both have loved, have lost, and are alone. Your faces falling tears, to me theyre lovely and theyre dear, though you dont love me and its clear that I will never see you in my arms. Theres no room in your heart for even this finely-sharpened dart; although I had started to think there might be hope, it isnt so. So wake up, make up some new song again around the same tune. The water cools, the leaves they fall, the sun it bends, the summer ends; our so-called friend doesnt need you. So proceed out the door and down the street. Decembers lying near, but in the ovens heat this house is now a home. Sixty days of trips and stays you took to tell me, dear, that you cannot love me because you secretly still love a stone. Although I put my lips to your face, trying to push his kiss out of its place, although my heart started to race, now it has slowed, Ill let it go.
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| 10. |
| 8:03 |
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A black sheep boy revolves over canyons and waterfalls.
A black sheep boy dissolves in syringe or in shower stall. He says ??짖€??"There's plenty of time to make you mine tonight, there's plenty of time to make you mine.??짖€???? He says ??짖€??"There's plenty of ways to know you're not dying, all right. Hell, there's plenty of light still left in your eyes.??짖€???? A black sheep boy grows horns, breathing smoke through his microphone. The airwaves stretch and they groan, bleeding, birthing his black diapason. Says ??짖€??"There's plenty of things to wear when you come to me, every color of sleeve to be rolled. Millions of rolling eyes that still cling to me. Every language of king is concerned. So why did you bawl from the spell of some old holy song some liar laughed as he composed, some liar I loved to control???짖€???? A black sheep boy dissolves in hot cream, in sweet moans, in each dead bed and empty home, in each seething bacterium. Killing softly and serial, he lifts his head, handsome, horned, magisterial. He's the smell of the moonlight wisteria. He's the thrill of the abecedarian. See the muddy hoofprints where he carried you? And there's plenty of ways to claim his crimes tonight, and there's plenty of things to do on his dime. And there's plenty of ways to wear his hide tonight, you've got yours, I've got mine. You've got yours, I've got mine. So why did you flee? Don't you know you can't leave his control only call all his wild works your own? So come back and we'll take them all on. So come back to your life on the lam. So come back to your old black sheep man. Says ??짖€??"I'm waiting on hoof and on hand. I'm waiting, all hated and damned. I'm waiting, I snort and I stamp. I'm waiting, you know that I am, calmly waiting to make you my lamb??짖€???? |
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| 11. |
| 3:46 |
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Come into the den, come into the den
You've got a glow Climb into my arms with blood on your clothes You've got a glow And you're no one's but mine And nobody knows the land where he's lying No heat in his bones No heart that was mine No hand that I'd hold And you've got a glow, you've got a glow (And there's no escaping, the thing that is making its home in your radio) You're light in a lie You're lithe and you're strong And you've wanted to do that, my love, for so long My live and dead men Come into the den You've got a glow |
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| 12. |
| 3:06 |
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Kids get lost, lambs out wandering
Bigger, blacker things go following Them into a patch of forest Somebody once planted for this Songs not over, phones still ringing Eyes still rolling, eyes still clinging Something in the air starts singing Radio switched on and buzzing Something in the wind starts humming Something in the field starts hunting Kids grow up and kids get numb And kids it's coming, kids it's going to come |
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| 13. |
| 3:00 |
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> When I'm hosed and they're closing in, maybe only then,
really, I'll try to get right with myself. So I'll grope down that ladder again, until I'm tumbling - but really, I just want to slide, I want to crash-land. While my friend, my associate, he's a regal man. He bindles and he twists and ties, gives the reckoning, and then it's back on the road again with maybe thirteen grand. Moralize all you might like, I don't believe in it. You've never earned your soul. I know, (x 3) but I'm gonna try, though, I'm gonna try. I'm a rich young sophisticate, I've got girls and friends. I'm doing what I really like and getting paid for it. There is no key, there's no plan; I discovered that. And, truly, I don't think you'll find a happier man. You've never earned your soul. I know, (x 3) but I'm gonna try, though, I'm gonna try. You float up high and it isn't a sin. And there isn't a hell where we'll be sent. There's only now, and there isn't then. So just breathe it in. |
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| 14. |
| 0:51 | 
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| 15. |
| 5:23 |
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| 16. |
| 3:51 |
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Maybe we could break your ankle clean and unsuspiciously
An E.R. trip, a doctor's slip and you could share your pills with me Won't it feel so good though when we're lying Side by side can't move and I'm not trying Two thousand milligrams each A hotel by the pharmacy With drinking straws in toothpaste tubes Stash them with your toiletries And I will share my pills with you Little Michael sleeping in the child safety seat Lying with the windows rolled up in the August heat Three thousand milligrams each Four thousand milligrams We're driving down the interstate You're feeling great, you scratch your wrist And we pretend your kids, your husband, all you left does not exist And in some motel that night we're lying I can barely whisper It's like dying Well baby, do you know what I mean Well baby, did you hear me? Well baby, you fell asleep I know I'm weak, I won't deny We'll see our trial some day soon When I know we're fucked I'll halve the pile and share my pills with you 'Cause we've felt fully in our bodies And we've felt totally alive So we're prepared to float above this dirty bed where we both lie Where we lie, lie, lie Will we be fine? Not this time |
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| 17. |
| 5:00 |
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Sit back, no song is written
It's nothing you thought of Yourself It's just a ghost, came unbidden To this house This infection gets stronger every year This seed in the water of your tear There is no escaping it This seed in the water of your tear The way an unborn baby's ear Unfolds in your belly This infection gets stronger every year This direction of a tear rolling down your cheek And there is no escaping it There is no escaping The thing that is making It's home in your radio Bless this tiny alley we have fallen from tall buildings we have fallen through the air Into a garden sweetly smelling of the softest Sleeping flowers now they sit under the sidewalk Now they're waiting for the shining of some future sun to show us All that is your beauty Oh and all that brings you pleasure I could sigh into your hide And say I hope I'm here forever But Black Sheep Boy with your lovers With your list of favorite pillows with your list of missing children With the wall where you drew windows Overlooking hidden gardens Cut apart by jagged mountains Climbing up into the air And crumbling down into a fountain Where the water waits forever Like a quiet distant treasure When you rise up to recover When you leave this tiny alley When you meet me in the garden With your horns all hung with cedar Every spirit brushing past me Brushing past them in the ether Scream all this is window dressing All you are is flimsy curtains Watch you flame up with a word from us And won't know that you're Burning! Burning Burning! (There's no escaping The thing that is making It's home in your radio There's no escaping The thing that is making It's home in your radio) |
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| 18. |
| 1:24 |
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| 19. |
| 6:00 |
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Take my sword from the slaughter
Melt it down into vapor, and my armor, too I hear hot blood flap and flutter From your temple to shoulder And all through you When you hold on to me it isn't easy When you hold on to me it isn't fair But when there's no key Oh, you find me there Find me there Find me there Ooh I'm turning white, I'm leaves of paper Turn my hands from this labor and lift me through When you hold on to me it isn't easy But you should hold on to me It isn't fair But when there's no key Oh, you find me there Find me there Find me there Ooh And kids get lost, lambs out wandering And bigger, blacker things come calling From outside a tiny garden somebody once laid their hearts on And kids get lost, kids get broken Diaries get found and opened And legs get led astray And then they lie inside some secret place Where the sun looks in the open ceiling And kids grow up, and kids stop feeling Kids, and feel adults, and face away But in last love dreams The lost and passed out of this world are softly sighing Trying to decide if they should leave the things that keep them crying And some will rise and keep on living with open eyes, with minds forgiven The river's flowing is arrested And resumed after they've blessed it Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again (Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again) It's over (Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again) It's over (Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again) It's over (Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again) It's over (Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again) (Over and over and) |
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