Destroyer Album

And though the solitudes have won,
I cannot begin to crave you.
Please spring us, Madeline, from these rusted jails of lust we live in;
I'm living in...
I will find you, Lord, in the classified loves of three good women.
You are familiar with these terms, I trust.
Don't you mind
Our children go unseen to us.
The popular singers, they're mean to us.
You'll find: There's joy in being barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple.
There's joy in being barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple.

And, though the grace is singing our praise in countless catchy ways,
Escape from what could only be the soil and dirts of freedom's all I'm thinking of.
I will fund you, Lord, through the classified loves of three good women.
You are familiar with these terms, I trust.
Don't you find such freedoms go unseen to us
The popular singers,
They'll sing to us in time
Of joys and being barred from the temple...

And, though the solitudes have won,
I cannot begin to crave you.

Please spring us, Madeline, from these dusty tales of lust we live in;
I'm giving in.
I will find you, Lord, in the calcified loves of three good women.
You are familiar with these terms, I trust.
Don't you mind
Our children go unseen to us.
The popular singers they'll sing to us.

There's joy in being barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple.
There's joy in being barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple,
Barred from the temple.
There's joy in being...

I memorized the moves of a great culture.
It gave way to the vulture and me.
So, I decided to be through with the assassins and the kids,
And kill for the thrill of silencing.

Yes, throw yourselves away,
Don't save yourselves.
Throw yourselves away,
Don't save yourselves.

Father tried to find her,
But she's not there.
Guess I lost those tracks in the City of Despair.
And, winding round the fact that things fall apart,
Have a heart sister!
Don't you know you started to?

Yes, throw yourselves away,
Don't save yourselves.
Throw yourselves away,
Don't save yourselves.

In a theater of impatience,
Records cause culture
As records break records.
On the back of the vulture,
I'll go to the heart of the sun.
We have set the controls for one

Shhh...

Just like days of old,
Bad horses still get sold.
Mistakes get made, I mean we blaspheme.
Like mad eagles who think they've made the same one's extinct,
Girl, you've got another thing
Coming.

So, throw yourselves away,
Don't save yourselves.
Throw yourselves away,
Don't save yourselves.

In a theater of impatience,
Records cause culture
As records break records.
On the back of the vulture,
I'll go to the heart of the sun.
We have set the controls for one.
I'll go to the heart of the sun.
We have set the controls for one

Watch the mistake in progress,
Even if you don't believe in progress.
There's a give and there's a take,
And there's a move she forgot to make
In time to discover that
The glove was a plant, and the shill, his mean-spirited thing.

And she wants you,
And she wants you,
And she wants you to go.
And she wants you,
And she wants you,
And she wants you to go.
But this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way...

Watch the parade in progress,
Even if you don't believe in progress.
There was a will.
There was a way.
There was a bill we forgot to pay,
In spite of all the accidental riches,
Golden Dons (dawns?), and sudden (seven?) glitches to the day.

And she wants you,
And she wants you,
And she wants you to go.
And she wants you,
And she wants you,
And she wants you to go.
But this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way...

It's a long climb down from obscurity,
So cancel the keys to the city, please.
Upon which I'll wretch the inextricable
Failures of popular wisdom,
And popular music.

And she wants you,
And she wants you,
And she wants you to go.
And she wants you,
And she wants you,
And she wants you to go.
But this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads.
And this is the way of perpetual roads...

Canadian lover, don't demean yourself
Though I know you and I know you mean well
Beneath a starlit night, in a prairie fire
With the pioneering spirit just about to expire
So what're you doing?
Looking for answers
Staying up all night with the calico dancers
Walk a thousand miles as the falcon flies
And like the wandering Jews
Someone's bound to get wise with you

Oh, City of Daughters,
Is that what you wanted to be?
Oh, City of Daughters,
Is that what you wanted to be?
Oh, City of Daughters,
Is it not safe to say you've come when called?
A minor point of contention:
It's the pointlessness of the invention.
Trust, there's no need to remind us
We're all dying alone tonight!

In a City of Daughters.
Sister, I confess, I have forgotten just what it is that you wanted to be.
Fluffing and a-folding those clothes that you were sold in
To servicing what it is you always wanted to be.
In Vancouver, things are simple when they fit you to a "T".
Once again, you have refused the new pornographies
A minor bone of contention:
It's the soullessness of the convention.
Rock 'n' Roll sure came through for you.
Why would anybody want it to?

What is it about music that lends itself so well
To business-as-fucking-usual?
A minor source of contention:
The resourcelessness of the convention.
Rock 'n' Roll sure came through for you.
Why would anyone want it to
When we can burn the living
Proof, go!

[No lyrics]

"Mercy..."
Is the word we tore from the Book of Languages.
"Mercy..."
One possible display of necessary changes.
Too bad we couldn't speak
About our right to be weak
Back when we had the right.
We had the right.

Revolutions, do your thing.
Is the Great Matter-of-Fact still being true for you?
Revolutions won't defend us
From a life of love and a country madness
Native to the country I'm thinking of.

Your love of shit knows no bounds!
Trust me this spells
The premature end of us!

Seize the sun.
I assume we are done with it.
This natural living will do you in...
The Nature of Giving means
I won't owe you anything,
And you won't owe me anything.
You won't owe me anything.

"Mercy..."
Is the word we tore from the Book of Languages.
Too bad it went unspoken;
Our beloved right to be broken...

Back when we had the right.
We had the right.
We had the right systems.
We had the right

Rock!

We hung from a thread just to prove poetry undead.
We rendered ourselves perfectly suitable to public consumption.

Once again, you've mistaken the minerals for cures,
Confused the catechism with your chores.
My aim is only true when I'm aiming at you!

We swung from a string just to prove poetry unreadable.
We rendered ourselves perfectly-suited to public consumption.

Once again, you've mistaken the minerals for cures,
Confused the catechism with your chores.
My aim is only true when I'm aiming at you!

A lesson to us all: Louise will not be faltering.
She craves a cul de sac to look back upon, and so do we.

If I appear oblivious, it's only 'cause I'm blessed
With the foresight to know that I knew
You had been had before you were through being had!

Go easy on me,
Queen of Languages, please!
Go easy on me,
Queen of Languages, please!
Go easy on me,
Queen of Languages, please!
Go easy on me,
Queen of Languages...
Go!

[No lyrics]

I cloak my dreams in the stuff of deceit
With the one who lies next to me again,
Characteristically blind.
Then surprise, surprise!
The woman's got eyes.
Found that her head is not where she hides.
Simply put, I am
Copping shelter tonight.
So I'll let you speak for me,
Sweet Woman of Occasions.
She is of the east,
So I went west
To come to what i've got coming.
Change heartbreak to heartlessness.
Let the one who lies next to me
Lie next to me.
And let the one who lies next to me
Lie next to me.
And let the one who lies next to me again
Lie next to me.
And let the one who lies next to me, again,
Lie next to me in light

I mew and crow to fight my way through the snow.
Scratch the surface just to find a second surface.
I begged the merchants, "Please serve a purpose other than treason!"
There must be another reason to play these songs
Best known for being bludgeoned into something to own.

The money's been bought up and, surely woman, you can feel it.
And the music's all washed-up. They'd rather sell it than steal it.
As the festivals run dry, these whorish children can't look you in the eyes
As you turn them out and turn them into something beautiful.
For the party of the century is still looking for a reason to be.

The money's been bought up and, surely woman, you can feel it.
And the scene, it's all washed-up. They'd rather sell it than steal it.
As the festivals run dry, sweet whorish children, please look them in the eyes.
They turn you out and turn you into something less-than-beautiful again

[No lyrics]

You take back the curse, but the world just gets worse
As you wonder about how someone could become
So fat and so proud off the damage they've done.
Man, the damage was fun.

A house is a home.
Hotels made of skin and bone hold us.
Father figures continue to scold us.
Avuncular-at-best in a church of new things.
He traded the records for rings
As I sat back and watched what I thought would ensue
Not ensue.

Hospitals overflow
With singers, embittered and pissed.
Dead-ringers for men whose whereabouts should not be known
Or be missed.

No failed revolts,
No plot from the inside
Could contend with the prospect or trend towards being discovered before our time.
With upwards of thirty songs
All about women and children
Whose lives will come second to mine.

You take back the curse, but the girl just gets
Every rip-off artist to paint a picture of a world at war
When the world was not at war.
When the world was not at war.
When the world was not at war.
Oh, when the world was not at war