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Lou Reed
Lou Reed


Background information
Birth name Lewis Allan Reed
Born March 2, 1942
Born place Brooklyn, New York United States
Genre(s) Rock
Glam Rock
Art Rock
Experimental Rock
Noise
Years active 1965—present
Label(s) RCA Records
Sire Records
Matador Records
MGM Distribution
Associated acts Gorillaz
The Velvet Underground
John Cale
Nico
David Bowie
Mick Ronson
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  L  →  Lou Reed  →  Albums  →  Perfect Night: Live In London

Lou Reed Album


Perfect Night: Live In London (1998)
1998
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I'll be your mirror,
Reflect what you are, in case you don't know.
I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset, light on your door,
To show that you're home.

When you think the night is in your mind
and inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands,
'Cause I see you...

. . .



Just a perfect day
drink Sangria in the park
And then later
when it gets dark, we go home

Just a perfect day
feed animals in the zoo
Then later
a movie, too, and then home

Oh, it's such a perfect day
I'm glad I spend it with you
Oh, such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on
You just keep me hanging on

Just a perfect day
problems all left alone
Weekenders on our own
it's such fun

LyricsJust a perfect day
you made me forget myself
I thought I was
someone else, someone good

Oh, it's such a perfect day
I'm glad I spent it with you
Oh, such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on
You just keep me hanging on

You're going to reap just what you sow [x4]


. . .



They're taking her children away
Because they said she was not a good mother
They're taking her children away
Because she was making it with sisters and brothers
And everyone else, all of the others
Like cheap officers who would stand there and flirt in front of me

They're taking her children away
Because they said she was not a good mother
They're taking her children away
Because of the things that they heard she had done
The black Air Force sergeant was not the first one
And all of the drugs she took, every one, every one

And I am the Water Boy, the real game's not over here
But my heart is overflowin' anyway
I'm just a tired man, no words to say
But since she lost her daughter
It's her eyes that fill with water
And I am much happier this way

LyricsThey're taking her children away
Because they said she was not a good mother
They're taking her children away
Because number on was the girl friend from Paris
The things that they did - ah - they didn't have to ask us
And then the Welshman from India, who came here to stay

They're taking her children away
Because they said she was not a good mother
They're taking her children away
Because of the things she did in the streets
In the alleys and bars, no she couldn't be beat
That miserable rotten slut couldn't turn anyone away

I am the Water Boy, the real game's not over here
But my heart is overflowin' anyway
I'm just a tired man, no words to say
But since she lost her daughter
It's her eyes that fill with water
And I am much happier this way


. . .



Vicious, you hit me with a flower
You do it every hour
Oh, baby you're so vicious
Vicious, you want me to hit you with a stick
But all I've got is a guitar pick
Oh baby, you're so vicious

When I watch you come, baby, I just want to run far away
You're not the kind of person around I want to stay
When I see you walking down the street
I step on your hands and I mangle your feet
You're not the kind of person that I want to meet
Baby, oh you're so vicious, you're so vicious

Vicious, you hit me with a flower
You do it every hour
Oh, baby you're so vicious
Vicious, hey why don't you swallow razor blades
You must think that I'm some kind of gay blade
But baby, you're so vicious

When I see you coming I just have to run
You're not good and you certainly aren't very much fun
When I see you walking down the street
I step on your hand and I mangle your feet
You're not the kind of person that I'd even want to meet
'Cause you're so vicious, baby, you're so vicious
Vicious, vicious...


. . .



You can't depend on your family
You can't depend on your friends
You can't depend on a beginning
You can't depend on an end

You can't depend on intelligence
Ooohhh, you can't depend on a god
You can only depend on one thing
You need a Busload of Faith to get by, watch, baby

Busload of Faith to get by X3
You need a Busload of Faith to get by

You can depend on the worst always happening
You can depend on a murderer's drive
You can bet that if he rapes somebody
There'll be no problem having a child

And you can bet that if she aborts it
Pro-Lifers will attack her with rage
You can depend on the worst always happening
LyricsYou need a Busload of Faith to get by, yeah

Busload of Faith to get by X2
Busload of Faith to get by, babe
Busload of Faith to get by

You can't depend on the goodly hearted
The goodly hearted made lampshades and soap
You can't depend on the Sacrament
No Father, no Holy Ghost

You can't depend on any churches
Unless there's a real estate you want to buy
You can't depend on a lot of things
You need a Busload of Faith to get by, wow

Busload of Faith to get by [x4]

You can't depend on no miracle
You can't depend on the air
You can't depend on a wise man
You can't find them because they're not there

You can depend on cruelty
Crudity of thought and sound
You can depend on the worst always happening
You need a Busload of Faith to get by, ha

Busload of Faith to get by [x4]


. . .



Hey man, what's your style
How you get your kicks for living
Hey man, what's your style
How you get your adrenalin flowing now
How you get your adrenalin flowing

Hey man, what's your style
I love the way, try to call now
Hey man, what's your style
I ain't jealous of the way you're living
I ain't jealous of the way you're living
When you cut that dude with just a little mania
You did it so .. ah

When the blood comma' down his neck
Don't you know it was better than sex, now, now, now
It was way better than getting mean
'Cause it was the final thing to do, now
Get somebody to come on to you
And then you just get somebody to ..
To now, now, come on to you
LyricsAnd then you kill them
You kill them, now, now, cause I need kicks ...
I'm getting bored, I n-n-n-need now, now some kicks
Oh, give it, give it, give it to me now, kicks

You know, I love the way you drive your car now
Hey man, what's your style
I ain't jealous of the way you're living
Ain't jealous of the way you're living
When your slayed that cat that night
You did it so crudely, now
With that blood coming down his chest
It was way better than sex, now, now
It was way better than getting mean
It was the final thing to do
Get somebody to came, come on to you, then
Get somebody to come on to you
Better kill them now
Better kill him now, now
Yeah, kill him now, now
Kill him now, now
'Cause I need kicks
Yeah, n-n-n-n-n-n-n-need some kicks
N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-need some kicks
Oh come on, give me kicks
Kicks, kicks ...


. . .


I wish I had a talking book
that told me how to act and look
A talking book that contained keys
to past and present memories

A talking book that said your name
so if you were gone, you'd still remain
More than a picture on a shelf
in imagination I could touch

A talking, talking book

I wish I had a talking book
filled with buttons you could push
Containing looks and sights, your touch
your feel, your breath, your sounds, your sighs

How much I'd bluster to ask it why
one must live and one must die

I wish I had a talking book
by my side so I could look
And touch and feel and dream, a look
much bigger than a talking book
A taste of loving future and past
is that so much to really ask
In this one moment's time and space
can our love really be replaced
By a talking book

Can our love really be replaced
by a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
by a talking book
Can our love ever, forever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced

Can our love ever be replaced
(can our love really be replaced)
By a talking book

. . .


I think you're, oh, so beautiful
I think you're so kind
And I think I would miss you
if you disappear into the divine

And I think of an apple core
when you start thinking of god
And I know I would miss you
if you disappear into the divine

And I think you're so beautiful
beautiful as the blackened space and stars
But all I see is a coreless seed
when you cry for a God who's not there
And I think you're so beautiful
and I see you're as the sun
That shines out through these galaxies
shimmering and warm, ah

And I think you're so beautiful, oh, oh, oh, oh
and if there's one thing I believe at all
It's how much I would miss you
if you disappear into the divine

It's how much I would miss you
if you disappear into the divine
It's how much I would miss you
if you disappear into the divine
How much, how much
how much, how much
How much, how much
how much, how much, how, how much
If you disappear into the
How much, how much
(how much), hey, hey, hey, hey
....

How much

. . .



You know, man, when I was a young man in high school
You believe in or not, that I wanted to play football for the coach
All those older guys, they said he was mean and cruel
But you know, I wanted to play football, for the coach
They said I was to little too light weight to play line-back
So I say I'm playing right-in
Wanted to play football for the coach
Cause, you know some day, man, you gotta stand up straight
Unless you're gonna fall
Then you're gonna die
And the straightest dude I ever knew
Was standing right for me, all the time
So I had to play football for the coach
And I wanted to play football for the coach
When you're all alone and lonely in your midnight hour
And you find that your soul, it has been up for sale

And you getting to think about, all the things you done
And you getting to hate just about everything

But remember the princess who lived on the hill
LyricsWho loved you even though she knew you was wrong
And right now she just might come shining through
and the glory of love, glory of love
Glory of love, just might come through

And all your two-bit friends have gone and ripped you off
They're talking behind your back saying, man
you are never going to be a human being
And you start thinking again
About all those things that you've done
And who it was and who it was
And all the different things you made every different scene

Ah, but remember that the city is a funny place
Something like a circus or a sewer
And just remember, different people have peculiar tastes
And the Glory of love, the glory of love
The glory of love, might see you through
Yeah, but now, now
Glory of love, the glory of love
The glory of love, might see you through
Glory of love, ah, huh, huh, the glory of love
Glory of love, glory of love
Glory of love, now, glory of love, now
Glory of love, now, now, now, glory of love
Glory of love, give it to me now, glory of love see you through
Oh, my Coney Island baby, now
(I'm a Coney Island baby, now)
I'd like to send this one out for Lou and Rachel
And the Lord appeared and he has one made of two
Coney Island baby
Man, I swear, I'd give the whole thing up for you


. . .



I don't like guilt be it stoned or stupid
drunk and disorderly I ain't no cupid
Two years ago today I was arrested on Christmas Eve

I don't want pain, I want to walk not be carried
I don't want to give it up, I want to stay married
I ain't no dog tied to a parked car

Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations

Talkin' 'bout some new sensations
Talkin' 'bout some new sensations

I want the principles of a timeless muse
I want to eradicate my negative views
And get rid of those people who are always on a down

It ain't enough to tell what is wrong
but that's not what I want to hear all night long
Some people are like human toulinols
Lyrics
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations

Talkin' 'bout some new sensations
Talkin' 'bout new sensations

I took my GPZ out for a ride
the engine felt good between my thighs
The air felt cool, it's was forty degrees outside

I rode to Pennsylvania near the Delaware Gap
sometimes I got lost and had to check the map
I stopped at a roadside diner for a burger and a coke

There were some country folk and some hunters inside
somebody got themselves married and somebody died
I went to the juke box and played a hillbilly song

They was arguing about football as I waved and went outside
and I headed for the mountains feeling warm inside
I love that GPZ so much, you know that I could kiss her

Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations

Talkin' 'bout your new sensations
Talkin' new sensations

Ooohhh, new sensations ...


. . .



Why do you talk, why do you waste time
Saying the same old thing, it should be a crime
You never listen, instead you stammer
As though you're interesting, and full of glamour
As though you're interesting, and full of glamour

Why do you talk so much, why don't you shut up
You have nothing to say, you lack drama
It's the same old thing, you'd like to know why
Who made the earth move, who made the sky high
Who made the earth move, who made the sky high

Who made your blood red, who made you think thoughts
Who made you breathe a breath, tell me why do you talk
Oh, tell me why do you talk, tell me why do you talk
Tell me why do you talk

Why do you always talk, why do you make sound
Why don't you listen, why do you talk so much
Why don't you listen, why do you talk so much
Why don't you shut up, why don't you shut up
Why don't you shut up, why do you talk so much


. . .



She's out of her mind, like the wind in the storm
Like the ocean in the dawn as it disappears, with the riptide
She's out of her mind, she's pulled away by the moon
She's ripped from her sleep ... As the cold luna sweep gains control

What you gonna do ... With your emotions
Ones you barely recognize
In your sleep I heard your screaming
"This is not voluntary! This is not voluntary !
If this is life I'd rather die !"

In the riptide ...

She's out of her mind, riptide
Like a muscle that swells
You know when you trip
Whether you're well or sick
Your body aches
She's out with the tide
Gone to a prisoner's dance
Where a monkey's her date
LyricsEating limbs off a plate with a spoon

What you gonna do with your emotions
Said the seagull to the loon
What you gonna do with your emotions

She said " Please wake me up"
She said " Don't touch me now"
She said " I wish I was dead"

In the riptide

She's out of her mind riptide ... You always win
It happens over and over again rip tide
She's out of her mind like a hurricane's rain
She does not stand a chance at this luna dance riptide

I was thinking of Van Gogh's last painting
The wheatfields and the crows
Is that perhaps what you've been feeling
When you see the ground
As you fall from the shy
As the floors disappears
From beneath your feet riptide

She's going out of her mind ...
With the riptide ...


. . .


I was sittin' home on the West End
Watchin' cable TV with a female friend
We were watchin' the news, the world's in a mess
The poor and the hungry, a world in distress
Herpes, AIDS, the Middle East at full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you put it in the waffle
And while you're at it - check what's in the batter
Make sure that candy's in the Original Wrapper

Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure that candy's in the Original Wrapper

Reagan says abortion's murder
While he's looking at Cardinal O'Connor
Look at Jerry Falwell Louis Farrakhan
Both talk religion and the brotherhood of man
They both sound like they belong in Teheran
Watch out, they're goin' full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you stick it in the waffle
And while you're at it better check, what's in the batter
Make sure that candy's in the Original Wrapper

Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure that candy's in the Original Wrapper

White against white, Black against Jew
It seems like it's 1942
The baby sits in front of MTV
Watching violent fantasies
While Dad guzzles beer with his favorite sport
Only to find his heroes are all coked up
It's classic, original, the same old story
The politics of hate in a new surrounding
Hate if it's good and hate if it's bad
And if this all don't make you mad
I'll keep yours and I'll keep mine
Nothing sacred and nothing divine
Father, bless me, we're at full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you put it in the waffle
And while you're at it better check that batter
Make sure the candy's in the Original Wrapper

Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure that candy's in the Original Wrapper, hey, hey

I was born in the United States
I grew up hard but I grew up straight
I saw a lack of morals and a lack of concern
A feeling that there's nowhere to turn
Yippies, Hippies and upwardly mobile Yuppies
Don't treat me like I'm some dumb lackey
'Cause the murderer lives while the victims die
I'd much rather see it an eye for an eye
A heart for a heart, a brain for a brain
And if this all makes you feel a little insane
Kick up your heels, turn the music up loud
Pick up your guitar and look out at the crowd
And say, "Don't mean to come on sanctimonious
But life's got me nervous and little pugnacious
Lugubrious so I give a salutation
And rock on out to beat really stupid
Ohh poop ah doo and how do you do
Hip hop gonna bop till I drop."
Watch out world, comin' at you full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you put it in the waffle
And while you're at it better check that batter
Make sure the candy's in the Original Wrapper

Hey, hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure the candy's in the Original Wrapper
Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure the candy's in the Original Wrapper, hey, hey, hey

. . .



I was thinking of things that I hate to do, -sex with your parents
Things you do to me or I do to you, baby, -sex with your parents
Something fatter or uglier than Rush Rambo
Something more disgusting than Robert Dole
Something pink that climbs out of a hole
And there it was - sex with your parents

I was getting so sick of this right wing republican shit
These ugly old man scared of young tit and dick
So I try to think of something that made me sick
And there it was - sex with your parents

Now these old fucks can steal all they want
And they can go and pass laws saying you can't say what you want
And you can't look at this and you can't look at that
And you can't smoke this and you can't snort that
And me baby - I got statistics - I got stats
These people have been to bed with their parents

Now I know you're shocked but hang and have a brew
If you think about it for a minute you know that it's true
LyricsThey're ashamed and repelled and they don't know what to do
They've had sex with their parents
When they looked into their lovers eyes they saw - mom
In the name of the family values we must ask whose family
In the name of the family values we must ask
Senator
It's has been reported that you have had
Illegal congress with your mother, - sex with your parents
Senator
An illegal congress by proxy is a
Pigeon by any other name, - sex with your parents
Senators you polish a turd
Here in the big city we got a word
For those who would bed their beloved big bird
And make a mockery of our freedoms
Without even using a condom
Without even saying " no "
By god we have a name for people like that
It's - hey motherfucker


. . .



Pedro lives out of the Wilshire Hotel
He looks out a window without glass
The walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet
His father beats him 'cause he's too tired to beg

He's got 9 brothers and sisters, they're brought up on their knees
It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the things
Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man
but that's a slim chance he's going to the boulevard

He's going to end up, on the dirty boulevard
He's going out, to the dirty boulevard
He's going down, to the dirty boulevard

This room cost 2,000 dollars a month, you can believe it man it's true
Somewhere a landlord's laughing till he wets his pants
No one here dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything
they dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard

Give me your hungry, your tired your poor I'll piss on 'em
That's what the Statue of Bigotry says
LyricsYour poor huddled masses, let's club 'em to death
and get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard

Going to end up, on the dirty boulevard
Going out, to the dirty boulevard
He's going down, on the dirty boulevard
Going out

Outside it's a bright night, there's an opera at Lincoln Center
Movie stars arrive by limousine
The klieg lights shoot up over the skyline of Manhattan
But the lights are out on the mean streets

A small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel
He's selling plastic roses for a buck
The traffic's backed up to 39th street
The TV Whores are calling the Cops out for a Suck

And back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming
He's found a book on Magic in a garbage can
He looks at the pictures and stares at the cracked ceiling
"At the count of 3" he says, "I hope I can disappear"

And fly fly away, from this dirty boulevard
I want to fly, from dirty boulevard
I want to fly, from dirty boulevard
I want to fly, fly, fly, fly, from dirty boulevard

I want to fly away
I want to fly
Fly, fly away
I want to fly
Fly, fly away
Fly, fly, fly
Fly, fly away
Fly away


. . .


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