本张专辑歌词 Album Lyrics

As I Rise - The Decemberists

I have come a few miles
I got blisters on my slippered feet
As I rise
As I ri-ise

California's okay
But I think I might stay in the shade
For a while
For a whi-ile

♬~

Ladybird, ladybird
You're the prettiest song I heard
In a while
In a whi-ile

La di dah, la dah,
la di dah dah dah la dah,
la la la, la dah dah-ah

-End-

Billy Liar - The Decemberists

Billy Liar's got his hands in his pockets
Staring over at the neighbors' knickers down
He's got his knickers down

So the summer is eternity for you?
Sleeping in until your father's shaking you down
He's shaking you down

And the mail room shift gets a real short shrift
As you dole out the packages
No one seems to want you around
All skulking around

Let your legs lure on the lino
'Til your sinews spoil
Will you stay here for a while, dear
'Til the radio plays something familiar?
Plays something familiar

All a drifting, he's a no good boyo
Sent a fishing for a whalebone corset frame
His only catch all day

So he sits and lets the current take him
A gentle breeze will leave his pants in disarray
And at his ankles laid

As he drifts to sleep with a moan and a weep
He is decked by a Japanese
Geisha with a garland of pearls
How she twists and twirls

Let your legs lure on the lino
'Til your sinews spoil
Will you stay here for a while, dear
'Til the radio plays something familiar?
Plays something familiar
Plays something familiar
Plays something familiar

-End-

Los Angeles, I'm Yours - The Decemberists

I was meant for the stage
I was meant for the curtain
I was meant to tread these boards
Of this much I am certain

I was meant for the crowd
I was meant for the shouting
I was meant to raise these hands
With quiet all about me, oh, oh

Mother, please be proud
Father, be forgiving
Even though you told me
"Son, you'll never make a living", oh, oh

From the floorboards to the flys
Here I was fated to reside
And as I take my final bow
Was there ever any doubt?

And as the spotlights fade away
And you're escorted through the foyer
You will resume your callow ways
But I was meant for the stage

The heavens at my birth
Intended me for stardom
Rays of light shone down on me
And all my sins were pardoned

I was meant for applause
I was meant for derision
Nothing short of fate itself
Has affected my decision, oh, oh

And from the floorboards to the flys
Here I was fated to reside
And as I take my final bow
Was there ever any doubt?

And as the spotlights fade away
And you're escorted through the foyer
You will resume your callow ways
But I was meant for the stage

-End-

Los Angeles, I'm Yours - The Decemberists

There is a city by the sea,
A gentle company
I don't suppose you want to
And as it tells its sorry tale
In harrowing detail
Its hollowness will haunt you

It streets and boulevards,
Orphans and oligarchs are here
A plaintive melody, truncated symphony
An ocean's garbled vomit on the shore
Los Angeles, I'm yours

Old ladies pleasant and demure,
Sallow cheeked and sure
I can see your undies
And all the boys you drag about
An empty fellow found
From Saturdays to Mondays

You hill and valley crowd,
Hanging your trousers down at here
This is the realest thing, as ancient choirs sing
A dozen blushing cherubs wheel about
Los Angeles, my love

Oh, what a rush of ripe elan,
Languor on divans
Dallyiant and dainty
But oh, the smell of burnt cocaine,
The dollor and decay
It only makes me cranky

A great calamity, ditch of inequity it's here
How I abhor this place,
Its sweet and bitter taste
Has left me wretched retching on all fours
Los Angeles, I'm yours
Los Angeles, I'm yours
Los Angeles, I'm yours

-End-

Red Right Ankle - The Decemberists

This is the story of your red right ankle
And how it came to meet your leg
And how the muscle bone and sinews tangled
And how the skin was softly shed
And how it whispered, "Oh, adhere to me

For we are bound by symmetry
Whatever differences our lives have been
We together make a limb"
This is the story of your red right ankle

This is the story of your gypsy uncle
You never knew 'cause he was dead
And how his face was carved an' ripped with wrinkles
In the picture in your head

And remember how you found the key
To his hide-out in the Pyrenees
But you wanted to keep his secret safe
So you threw the key away
This is the story of your gypsy uncle

This is the story of the boys who loved you
Who love you now and loved you then
And some were sweet and some were cold and snuffed you
And some just laid around in bed
Some, they crumbled you straight to your knees
Did it cruel, oh, did it tenderly

Some, they crawled their way into your heart
To rend your ventricles apart
This is the story of the boys who loved you
This is the story of your red right ankle

-End-

Shanty For The Arethusa - The Decemberists

We set to sail on a
packet full of spice, rum and tea leaves
We've emptied out all the
bars and the bowery hotels
And tell your daughters do not
walk the streets alone, tonight
And tell your daughters do not
walk the streets alone, tonight

To tell the tale of the
Jewess and the mandarin Chinese boy
He led her down from her gilded canopy of cloth
And through her blindfold, she could
make out the figures there before her
And how the air was thick with
incense, cardamom and myrrh

So goodnight boys, goodnight
Say goodnight boys, goodnight

Lalala dam
Lalala dam
Lalalalala...

We set to sail on the
clipper that's bound for South Australia
The weather's warm there, the
natives (are) dark and nubile
But if you listen, quiet,
you can hear the footsteps on the cross trees
The ghosts of sailors passed, their spectral bodies
clinging to the shrouds

So goodnight boys, goodnight
Say goodnight boys, goodnight

Lalala dam
Lalala dam
Lalalalala...

-End-

Song For Myla Goldberg - The Decemberists

Myla Goldberg
Sets a steady hand upon her brow
Myla Goldberg
Hangs a crooked foor all upside down

It comes around, it comes around
It comes around, it comes around
It comes around, it comes around
It comes around, it comes around

Pretty hands do pretty things
When pretty times arise
Seraphim in seaweed swim
Where stick-limbed Myla lies

It comes around, it comes around
It comes around, it comes around
It comes around, it comes around
It comes around, it comes around

Still now you're waiting to grow
Inside you're old
Sew wings to your pigeon toes
Put paper to pen and spell out Eliza

We begin with sticky shins
Make sticky then our shoes
Shoes beget to clothes
And hat 'til sticky's sticking too

Finiculi, finicula, finiculi, finicula
Finiculi, finicula, finiculi, finicula

Listen in as shin-kicked Jim
Relates his story sad
'Bout a boy who kicked
Until his shins were all but rubber bands

But now I know New York, I need New York
I know I need unique New York
I know New York, I need New York
I know I need unique New York

Still now you're waiting to grow
Inside you're old
Sew wings to your pigeon toes
Put paper to pen and spell out Eliza

Eliza, Eliza
It comes around, it comes around
It comes around

-End-

The Bachelor And The Bride - The Decemberists

There's a wrinkle in the water
Where we laid our first daughter
And I think the wind blows so sweetly there.
Over there.

And the windows and the cinders
And the willows in the timbers.
The infernal rattling of the rain
Still remains.

"But I," said the bachelor to the bride,
"Am not waiting for tonight.
No, I, I will box your ears
And leave you here stripped bare,
Stripped bare."
Stripped bare, the stripped bare, oh, oh

Hear the corncrakes and the deerhooves
And the sleet rain on the slate roof.
A medallion locked inside her hands.
In her hands.

And his fingers, are they telling
Of the barren of her belly?
Do his calluses cure her furrowed brow,
Even now?

"But I," said the bachelor to the bride,
"Am not waiting for tonight.
No, I, I will box your ears
And leave you here stripped bare,
Stripped bare."

"But I," said the bachelor to the bride,
"Am not waiting for tonight.
No, I, I will box your ears
And take your tears
And leave you, leave you here
Stripped bare."

-End-

The Chimbley Sweep - The Decemberists

I am a chimbley, a chimbley sweep
No bed to lie, no shoes to hold my feet
Upon the rooftops in dead of night
You'll hear me cry, I'll shake you from your sleep

To hear me weep
"Your day will come indeed
For I am a poor and a wretched boy
A chimbley chimbley sweep."

I am an orphan, an orphan boy
I've known no love, I've seen no mother's joy
A dirty doorstep my cradle laid
My fortune's made: I'll shake you from your sleep

To hear me weep
"Your day will come indeed.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy
A chimbley chimbley sweep."

"O lonely urchin!" the widow cried
"I've not been swept since the day my husband died."
Her cheeks a blushing, her legs laid bare
And shipwrecked there I'll shake you from your sleep

To hear me weep
"Your day will come indeed.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy
A chimbley chimbley sweep.
For I am a poor and a wretched boy
A chimbley chimbley sweep."

-End-

The Gymnast, High Above The Ground - The Decemberists

The gymnast, high above the ground,
Limbers up and falls, tender, down.
Ankles splayed and all tied,
The gymnast long has arrived.
Lazy, your long sister lays
Waiting out this long light brigade.
Prayed for snow a long time,
And, lazy, it long has arrived.

Through the tarlatan holes
You've been slipping, been slipping away.
La de dum dum.
And the weather will hold-
It's been ever so, ever so gray.
La de dum dum.

And here as we're coming down
We're sounding out: it's a terrible, terrible tide
As it lights upon your eye.

But there on the motorway, reeks of marmalade,
It's a chemical, chemical kind
As it lights upon your eye,
Lights upon your eye.

The boatswain calls upon the quay.
Compass gone, he long has lost his way
To lighthouse shine, to calm tide.
The boatswain long has arrived.

Through the tarlatan holes
You've been slipping, been slipping away.
La de dum dum.
And the weather will hold-
It's been ever so, ever so gray.
La de dum dum.

But here as we're coming down
We're sounding out: it's a terrible, terrible tide
As it lights upon your eye.

But there on the motorway, reeks of marmalade,
It's a chemical, chemical kind
As it lights upon your eye,
Lights upon your eye.

April marches on.
April marches on.
April marches on.
April marches on.

-End-

The Soldiering Life - The Decemberists

Ambling madly all over the town
The call to arms you liken to a whisper,
I liken to a radio.
You were a brickbat, a bowery tuff, so rough
They culled you from a cartoon
Pulled out of your pantaloons.

But you,
My brother in arms,
I'd rather I'd lose my limbs
Than let you come to harm.

But you,
My bombazine doll,
The bullets may singe your skin
And the mortars may fall.

But I,
I never felt so much life
Than tonight
Huddled in the trenches,
Gazing on the battle field,
Our rifles blaze away;
We blaze away. Ohh

Corporal Bradley of regiment five
In proud array standing by the bathing
Soldiers and the stevedores.
We laid on the mattress and tumbled to sleep
Our eyes aligned, swaddled in our civies
Cradled in our dungarees.

But you,
My brother in arms,
I'd rather I'd lose my limbs
Than let you come to harm.

But you,
My bombazine doll,
The bullets may singe your skin
And the mortars may fall.

But I,
I never felt so much life
Than tonight
Huddled in the trenches,
Gazing on the battle field
Our rifles blaze away;
We blaze away. Ohh
We blaze away. Ohh
We blaze away. Ohh

-End-