& Lyrics

Now, devil may care, but I'd advise you not to bet on it.
'Cause if he's there at all, I'm sure that he can get an idiot
to do his work while they declare,
"Devil may care!"

Painted whores! Swine in pearls!
Come on and assume the forbidden position
on the top of the world!
Gonna put the Oooh in the human condition.

Devil may care, but I am disinclined to lend belief
to any square who spends his life bemoaning just how brief it is -
running around, tearing his hair.
Devil may care. Devil may care.

Some postulate reward if you should mortify the flesh.
Why should I believe you, baby?
Come bruise the fruit and share the joy of produce that is fresh!
If you snub the preview, why should I believe you?

Devil may care, but just suppose that the reverse is true.
Isn't it fair to bless the instinct that immerses you in life?
Irony check - have an eclair!

Devil may care - but there's a pattern of benign neglect,
so we can share whatever monuments remain erect
until everyone feels certain that their
Devil may care - Devil may care.

Get It Right This Time K & Anna Waronker

Love left me with dreams so drab, so colorless and pale -
suggested attire became the veil.
But now this heat returns the rainbow palette to the sky -
the colors that dare the fool to try.

So now I pray I get it right this time.
The part of me that's burned just can't believe that I'm
back in this warm embrace. Give me a sign
that maybe I can get it right this time.

Love - the very word seems worn, defiled and overused.
How can you believe when you've been bruised?
And now, surprised to find you're not so gunshy at the sound
of claiming to be both lost and found.

So now I pray I get it right this time.
The part of me that's burned just can't believe that I'm
back in this warm embrace. Give me a sign
that maybe I can get it right this time.

Any One But You K & Stew

You can blow the world away, me too, me too.
You would rather not today, me too, me too.
But I know it's true - you know it too:
I'd believe in anyone but you.
You can make the mountains bow; me too, me too.
You're too bored to do it now, me too, me too.
But I know it's true - you know it too:
I'd believe in anyone but you.

They can say that you're a lazy king without the nerve to abdicate,
and I know it's true because I'm just like you.
They can say that you'll do anything, but you do it just a little late
and I know it's true, because I'm just like you.

They say that you created everything, and what you made you can destroy -
and I know it's true, because I'm just like you.
A playpen baby crying bitter tears of spite because you threw away your toys -
and I know it's true because I'm just like you.
You can bring the end about; me too, me too.
You would rather wait it out; me too, me too.
But I know it's true - you know it too:
I'd believe in anyone but you.

Sure, I'd like to try and make that leap, but I always end up in a heap.
If you caught me walking in my sleep, still I'd swear the chasm was too deep.
anybody but you ...

Scarecrow K & Rufus Wainwright

Scarecrow - in the Wyoming winter dawn.
Scarecrow - that silhouette I chanced upon,
fashioned with such flair, I'm sure we met somewhere.
Scarecrow, I know you.

Scarecrow - can it be who you longed to kiss,
Scarecrow - that left you hanging here like this?
Or who you'd yet to hold, in dreams you left untold?
Scarecrow, they're mine too. Scarecrow, I know you.

What penalty must we perform
for craving someone warm, somewhere upon this chilly planet?
A rifle butt against the head,
because we'd heard it said
that only God can make a man. It's true.
But only man can make a scarecrow out of you.
And only man can make a God who might approve.

Scarecrow - those who seek metaphor compare
Scarecrow - that other man left hanging there.
But it seems to me that comes too easily.
Scarecrow, this much is true. Scarecrow, I know you. Why, oh why Wyoming? Why, oh why Wyoming?
If we only had a heart. If we only had a brain. If we only had a chance again,
just a little chance again.

God, If Any, Only Knows K &Abby Travis

There was a sweetness in your face, like a glow, and it filled me with hope.
I guess you put me in my place, so I cried, and I felt like a dope.
Tried to trust, but I didn't know how, but I'm getting it now: God, if any only knows.

They say that love is letting go. I agree; that's a sensible theme.
But what I do and what I know - well, they don't often work as a team.
Tried to trust, but I didn't know how, but I'm getting it now: God, if any only knows.

People throw up their hands and they look to the sky;
all their pitiful plans always going awry.
If someone understands, let me know, 'cause I know that there aren't many.

Inexpressible fear - is that all that we shared?
And the damaged veneer of the lonely and scared?
But it's finally clear I can hand it to God, comma, if any.

So here's the lesson for today - that there's not really anything wrong,
wrapped in a guy called Ernest Ray (!); well, he left - but he left me this song.
I tried to trust, but I didn't know how, but I'm getting it now: God, if any only knows.

Series Of You's K & Paul Zone

Once again I'm tempting fate, standing near the dusty plate,
buying into maxims from the past.
I've been told there's only one - pick them out and then you're done.
Will this brief encounter be the last?
I can dress them up like paperback destiny -
give them torrid heat like flicking a bic.

chorus:
But it's so familiar, I start to fear it's
one in a series of you's.
From the Xerox copy fatigue it's clear it's
one in a series of you's.

Here's the liar and the thief, and the addict on relief;
butcher, baker, rebel, and faux rogue.
From the drunk insensible to the indefensible:
the cynic with his nose in Paris Vogue.
In my own self serving sort of noblesse oblige,
credit them with depth they never have known.

chorus

Strike about just like a jitterbug fer-de-lance:
throw love at whatever gets in the way.

chorus

If there's anything that I don't need here, it's
one in a series of you's.
And my inner gremlin begins to sneer it's
one in a series of you's.

Revert To Type K & Van Dyke Parks

When first we met, the barren snow bloomed just because we willed it so.
This passion play was engineered, but when the mutant sheep appeared,
didn't I see you cry? Didn't I see you cry?

chorus:
We sensed by scent that this brief sentiment was overripe.
Don't cry my love, don't cry. As soon as we reject the graft we can revert to type.
Don't cry my love, don't cry. No, no no no don't cry.

Our serpent souls might stand erect, smug in the glow of that effect.
But so miscast as leading men - how sweet to slither off again.
If it was worth a try, why did I see you cry?

chorus

What is the law? Our nature is to give up nothing but the ghost.
What is the law? To go back to the island of Doctor Morose.

chorus

Madison Avenue K & El Vez

It's just a road, but to me it's the way to take,
'cause no one else in the world could make us shake, and bake.
So take my love and send it to Madison Avenue.
No human hand ever touched what's in Sanitex;
no human heart can resist what your art, your art directs.
So take my love and send it to Madison Avenue.
Sentimental song - this is how it goes: I deserve a break to-day,
'cause I can't take it, just can't take it, can't take it no more.

I knew all along - this is how it goes: if the sell is hard, I'll pay now
'cause I can't take it, just can't take it, can't take it no more.
Sentimental song - this is how it goes: I deserve a break to-day,
'cause I can't take it, just can't take it, can't take it no more.
Those secret ways you suggest what I ought to do -
subliminal and sublime, they compel me to
take my love and send it to Madison Avenue.

Just In Time K & Michael Quercio

Morning comes too soon.
I can sleep but moments never rest, and then it's noon.
They go drifting by, and I want to try
to stop and calculate
how the moments get from here to there.
But they won't wait.
I must let them go but I long to know that I'm just in time
not a moment too soon.

In the present tense,
the past is just a lie that's good at seeming to make sense.
It's a clever list that does not exist.
And in the present tense, the future rushes back to meet the past,
but these events never penetrate to my present state
when I'm just in time
not a moment too soon.

Everything recedes.
The first word of this verse has just become what no-one needs.
It is suddenly just a memory.
And I'll buy you the moon!
I'll have time for everything important someday soon.
Better keep the crumbs - someday never comes
when I'm just in time. I'm la la la longing to be now.

Palace Of Corn K & Darian Sahanaja

If I pleaded the fifth, could this be prevented?
My cynicism deserts me now. I called you "cute" and I meant it!
How could the depths of my soul form this perky jingle?
The cruel logic of algebra provides an answer that's single.

Down the halls, ether squalls songs of welcome:
Come in! Break fast, 'cause now you're home at last
in the palace made of corn.
I'm crowned today king of all I survey
in the palace made of corn.

Of course your cardiogram registers so faintly,
when every word to beguile your heart emerges ever so quaintly.
In light of verses like these, who'd not be forlorn?
Even the semen that stains my dreams dries to the color of corn.

Can't you hear? Chanticleer crows his welcome.
Come in! Break fast, 'cause now you're home at last
in the palace made of corn.
I'm crowned today king of all I survey
in the palace made of corn.

I gave up reading your mind. Could that prose be drier?
Besides I know how it all turns out: you yawn at me and retire.
If wanted dead or alive, sure I'd choose the latter -
but in the palace that's made of corn, I guess it just doesn't matter.

I detect, oh - winds of ectoplasmic welcome.
Come in! Break fast, 'cause now you're home at last
in the palace made of corn.
I'm crowned today king of all I survey
in the palace made of corn.

Tender Even Then K & Maria McKee

I slam the door upon your thumb. What's unbecoming I become.
And so with each and every awkward kiss, I pray a silent prayer that this
can't be as stupid as it looks. And if we're both on tenterhooks
again, can we be tender even then?

You trusted me with something true. Maybe that's not so smart to do.
So if I hurt you now and make you bleed, my sullen face is guaranteed
to be as stupid as it looks. And if we're both on tenterhooks
again, can we be tender even then?

One and one is two in some arithmetic.
That addition feels like some cheap parlor trick,
so as I sweep the glitter up again - I can be tender.

Now I have faith that blood congeals, and if the blister breaks, it heals.
So darling, even if you disagree, I found out inadvertently
it's not as stupid as it looks. And if we're both on tenterhooks
again, can we be tender even then?

I Could Die For Cute K & Steve McDonald

I could die for cute.
Oh, I perceive your mousetrap mind in the diminutive.
Oh, you little brute -
so casually you dismiss the love I have to give.

chorus:
I don't want to be free; no plea bargain for me.
Parenthetically, I could die for cute.

I could die for cute.
Your shopworn little jailbait charms I deign to condescend.
But the point is moot:
with grace that's almost violent, you exit with my friend.

chorus

Who'd have thought this simper was the way my world would end?
Your little goatee, the way you subscribe to every trend!
I admit I've got no disbelief left to suspend,
but I can forsee the grave into which I must descend
if I die for cute.

Hazel Iris A-list meters have no time for tears. With lashes divine,
they scan for the fabulousness sign.
Sweetly you affect a jadedness beyond your years, but not beyond mine,
and from the retirement home I'll whine:
I could die for cute.
How I adore your awkward pose, transparent and inept!
But I could not mute
you never wanted to be had, but only to be kept.

chorus

Sex Chooir Prologue K & Paul Reubens

"Well, what I was saying to you newcomers is: we just WON’T be having

THAT sort of interpersonal relationship around HERE. Everyone knows

that there ARE other ways of displaying affection. And Lord knows, we’re

creative enough to come up with up with a satisfactory ALTERNATIVE.

Besides, there can be no doubt that this IS a very loving community. Now,

on the next topic — the neighbourhood association refers to CC&R Section

Four trillion and six: when painting your domicile, off-white is NOT white!"

Sex In Heaven K & Ann Magnuson

It's heaven sent, this miracle soprano you employ
That makes an angel of a boy, earthbound.
My soul took wing upon the sound.
I guess I still can't face the implications of this gift.
There's something pagan in the lift -- airborne.
And why should soul from flesh be torn?

That's what it costs to buy a note so pure and high
and so divine: no sex in heaven.
The bottom line: no sex in heaven. Where do I sign?

Then came the man whose eyes professed the love that we had sought;
a love that's never to be caught or held.
Some ancient pact can't be dispelled. What's the surprise?
The storied sacrifice is often told: that this perfection must be cold,
and hard -- where once we joined by scalpel scarred.

What gimpy God aflame with jealous rage decreed that you
Like him must be unwhole; allowed to yearn?
But if the need that you profess is once returned,
You slap it down! (If I should ask, and I always ask.)

I guess I still can't help the sickened impulse to admire
the score that this castrati choir translates
that soothes as it emasculates.

I Can't Remember My Dreams k & Lydia Lunch

Lullabye

links lyrics news pictures recordings various

the Dave Davies band

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