side one, track two

[Wallerton]

(The lyrics to the title track may be found under the thread, "The thing I love about the NPs")

I wrote the news today in a tent outside the midway rides, and as my money flew, singing to their pockets, you could only know your shame, knowing what the good ones do. And when you see the bruises on my legs from kicking pills yeah, then you see how recklessly the pages are filled. Make headlines, believe them, come back. Want to be upside down, maybe thrown from side to side. Want to fall from the clouds, sailing like a ship at sea. Want to think out so loud that the fashion police break me. I wrote the news today, in a tent outside the midway rides, and as my money flew, singing to their pockets, I... I filled the whole front page with the catchiest words I could find, believe me, come back. Fake headlines, believe them, come back.

Stay tuned for the next thrilling installment...

[Wallerton]

Must've hit "new thread" instead of "post reply." Ah well, more lyrics...

I say my, my slow descent into alcoholism went to my head, where I really need it, with the views that remain untreated. I say my, my, my, my slow descent into alcoholism went something like this. Salvation holdout central. I say my ever-loosening grip on the commonest courtesies slipped, from my hands when I really need her, when I need change for the parking meters. I said my, my, my, my slow descent into alcoholism it went something like this. Salvation holdout central.

[Wallerton]

Always the true one, calm, selective, staking a claim among the young defectives, far off under the nighttime, baby, crawl into the wave. Got to be cool now, unprotected, you come around every day to collect me, far off into the nighttime, baby, crawl into the wave. Come on, give it to me. Yes, those mystery hours. But officers, the rumbling, the sound of the collective crumbling, around to the ground, surrender the town. I call out the numbers, the rumble of collective thunder today, the wages are down. Come on, give it to me. Yes, those mystery hours. Mystery hours.

[Wallerton]

Jackie you yourself said it best when you said: There's been a break in the continuum. The United States used to be lots of fun, back when the man and the myth of the sands and the cliffs composed a symphony to good works and better business. Jackie you yourself said it best when you said: One day we'll look upon a washed up Atlantic, get our kicks on an ocean of antics, and making history has never been so easy. So visualize success, but don't believe your eyes. There's a world of wisdom and pain to despise, when people get paid just to set you straight it means... Are you gonna start the sunshine? Who is gonna stop the sunshine? Visualize success, but don't believe your eyes. What's a version of the world without the will to despise it, when people get paid just to set you straight it means: Jackie

[Wallerton]

First my trusty voice cracked, like it's not plain to see, a sidewalk step, defaults on my debt to the order of society. Behold our first rate lady, as if you hadn't guessed, the homemade queen of every homecoming not so gently laid to rest. And then outside her courtyard after entering your plea you strike the right ingredient and chew the scenery. How many times must we say, this kind of inflation cannot kill us. Our backers use versions we used to unwind with, the threads of an argument lost. To wild homes we go. To wild homes we return. To wild homes we go.


Okay, that's all of side one. More later...

[Wallerton]

I'm told the eventual downfall is just a bill from the restaurant. You told me I could order the moon, babe, just as long as I shoot what I want. What the last ten minutes have taught me: bet the hand that your money's on. Where the hell have the '70s brought me? You trade me away long gone. For the love of a god, you say, not a letter from an occupant. The time that your enemy gives you, good times are not the ones you want. I cried five rivers on the way here, which one will you skate away on? The tune you'll be humming forever, all the words are replaced and wrong, with a shower of yeahs and whatevers, you trade me away long gone. For the love of a god, you say, not a letter from an occupant. Where have all the sensations gone? It's the song, the song, the song that's shaking me.

[Wallerton]

People of earth we have heard your station, sold your song to the United Nations. All on a dare to the heads of state, yeah, what could you do in the situation? You throw the voice you know wouldn't say yes, the body says no, no, no, no. I say: man, can you believe, she didn't need me... Heavens to betsy, come one [sic] let's see, what could be worse than the wheel of history? Rolling up over the rooms you've prayed in, what could you do in the situation? I say: man, can you believe, she didn't need me anymore than I needed her to. Am I repeating myself to tell you dreaming it's what's left of psychedelia, caught in the life of any outlaw nation, what can you do in the situation?

[Wallerton]

Oh blast I drank the wrong draft down, two sips from your crown, the drops you left for me, am I so easily appeased? Madrigal, why didn't you come out today, you promised to play. Marigold, why didn't you come out today, we promised to play fair. You were already there. You were ready to cast our fate to the wind, to try your hand at everything, what a cinch it would have been had we been there. Those trials are held for tuning in and smiles are stretched to be shown, so when you claim to see for miles it's not but I believe it's true. Yes, trials are held for tuning in, and smiles are stretched to be worn, so when you claim to see for miles you don't but I believe you do. On this day that began as execution day, and sure enough became execution day. On this day that began as execution day, and true to form became execution day.

[Wallerton]

It's such a dream-like view from the ceiling where every feeling is a part of [the] fall. Kneeling out on the front lawn, rise to occasions, grass stains and all. Exactly where we are, at the centre for holy wars, I hope it never comes down again. Floating in the air, with the stars of the holy wars, I hope it never comes down again. Nearly but never arrested, but oh Contessa, asleep in the stall, still you somehow have bested the other contestants, grass stains and all. Because hope grows greener than grass stains. Hope grows greener than grass stains.

[Wallerton]

With a map of the endtimes I can follow a straight line to the old Mary Martin Show. Should we go? Since we learned our guitar parts, to the music that once started it off. Mary Martin, they don't come any closer than that now. With the musical guest on, you were singing the theme song to the old Mary Martin Show. Did you know? With your cameras in action, with your network connections, it's go. Mary Martin, they don't come any closer than that now. Mary Martin, the hope of every actor in their role. To aim far too, far too low. All the rain on that morning was so shiny and boring. It was gold, Mary Martin, know it was gold. With a book of guitar chords, some alright to good words, it sold. Mary Martin, they don't come any closer than that now. Mary Martin, the hope of every punchline that you throw.

[Wallerton]

I can never place the name with the face. Don't touch me, don't touch me up, to the tee, by the numbers. It's not much but I'm going under. Liar, Liar, everything's on fire. So I don't want to hear how you crossed the wires. Don't touch me, don't touch me up, watch I'll take it to the river. You'll come to, little indian giver. So give us the keys now, we'll burn this hall of justice down. Around the ankles, or just to the ground. Hats off to the city fathers, they're no longer a hundred feet tall. They're no longer, no longer, and we're just here, another hundred feet stronger. Yeah!


Okay, folks--that's all of "Mass Romantic." (See the lyrics to the title track under the "thing I love about the NPs" thread.) I'll be out of town for a few days. When I get back, I'll post the lyrics to "Electric Version." That is, if anybody still cares?