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Suzanne Vega




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Suzanne Vega Album


Nine Objects Of Desire (09/10/1996)
09/10/1996
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Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

One thing I know
This pain will go

Step through all that's left to feel
I wait to meet my love made real

Don't move don't touch 
Don't talk so much

Strip and find the place to kneel
I wait to meet my love made real

One thing I know 
This day will go 

Don't touch don't talk crawl the wall
She's the ticket to the future don't listen down the hall
You can say your prayer to the head of this bed
When it begins at your knees and goes right to your head

Birth-day 

Strap me down from wrist to heel
I wait to meet my love made real

One thing I know
This day will go

Shake all over like an old sick dog
There's a needle here needle there tremble in the fog
It's a tight squeeze vice grip ice and fire
She's a hot little treasure and the wave goes higher

Birth-day

. . .


Lyrics by Suzanne Vega
Music by Mitchell Froom and Suzanne Vega 

The sign said "Headshots"
And that was all,
A picture of a boy
And a number you could call,
Two eyes in the shade
A mouth so sad and small,
It's strange the way a shadow
Can fall across the wall, 
And make the difference 
In what you see
Ah... 

He's just a poster, but
He's everywhere,
A face under a street lamp
Ripped and hanging in the air,
Turn the corner
And he's still there,
Watching all the people
Who are passing unaware,
Is there a judgement
In what he sees?
Ah... 

On a day
As cold
And gray
As today...

The sign says "Headshots"
It's all I see,
A boy becomes a picture
Of guilt and sympathy,
And so I think of you 
In memory
Of the days we were together,
And I knew that you loved me
That was the difference
In what we see,
But that's history...

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long for you.

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;

But I don't know
how I would live with myself,
what I'd forgive of myself
if you don't go.

So goodbye,
sweet appetite,
no single bite
could satisfy...

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;

But I don't know
what I would give of myself,
how I would live with myself
if you don't go.

It won't do
to dream of caramel, 
to think of cinnamon
and long

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

I don't care for tights, she says
and does not tell me why
She hikes her skirt above her knee
revealing one brown thigh 

I see, I say, and wonder at
her slender little fingers
How cleverly they pull upon
the threads of recent slumbers


Do you know where friendship ends
and passion does begin?
It's between the binding of
her stockings and her skin.
(oh yeah) 

She stayed up so late I thought
she'd ask me to go dance
But something in the way she laughed
told me I had no chance 

The fiction in her family
was that she was never nice
I'd say she was very
I just did not see the price 

Do you know where friendship ends
and passion does begin?
When the gin and tonic
makes the room begin to spin.
(oh yeah) 

There may be attraction here
but it will never flower
So I'm assigned to read her mind, now
in this witching hour 

Here's no game for those who claim
to be easily bruised
But how can I complain
when she's so easily amused? 

Do you know where friendship ends
and passion does begin?
(When she does not show you
the way out on the way in) --
It's between the binding
of her stockings and her skin.

. . .


Lyrics by Suzanne Vega
Music by Suzanne Vega & Mitchell Froom 

I only turned to see
What hand had set this inner field alight
Against the flame I see
The outline of a man against a night

Take back your sympathy
I do not need to drink that bitter stuff
I'd rather break the thread
That bound us close, and say we called a bluff

A casual match
In a very dry field
What could be
The season's yield?

My eyes have gone to coal
It's nothing I would be concerned about
Observe the moment
When the heat of love becomes the chill of doubt

A casual match
In a very dry field
Fire and ash
Is the season's yield

We look for a sign
But it is not revealed
Fire and ash is the

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

He is not my friend, but he is with me
Like a shadow is with a foot that falls
His hand is on my back when I step from the sidewalk
Or when I'm walking down these darkened halls

He's the Thin Man
With a date for me
To arrive at some point
I don't know when it will be

I can feel his eyes when I don't expect him
In the back seat of a taxi down Vestry Street
His arm is around my waist and he pulls me down to him
He whispers things into my ear that sound so sweet

He's the Thin Man
With a date for me
To arrive at some point
I don't know when it will be

He is not my friend, but he is with me
And he promises a peace I never knew
I cannot give in, no, I must refuse him
But could I really be the one to resist that kiss so true

He's the Thin Man
With a date for me
To arrive at some point

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

Ante up. And don't be shy.
Who is that man who is catching my eye?
What's underneath all of the deadpan face?
Sitting so pretty with a criminal grace?

Lamebrain Pete wants to Spit in the Sea.
He's got a cool hand but it isn't for me.
Butcher Boy thinks he'll be splitting the pot.
But I've seen what he's got and it isn't a lot.

(When deuces are wild you can follow the queen.
I'd go too except I know where she's been.)

I'll see you, I'll call you, I'll raise you
But it's no cheap thrill
It will cost you, cost you, cost you
Anything you have to pay.

I limit the straddles, and you shuffle and deal.
When will the dealer reveal how he feels?
Is the lucky beginner just a five-card stud?
Is this winning streak going to be nipped in the bud?

I'll see you, I'll call you, I'll raise you
But it's no cheap thrill
It will cost you, cost you, cost you
Anything you have to pay.

I'll match you, I'll bet you, I'll play you,
But it's no cheap thrill
It will cost you, cost you, cost you

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

If your love were taken from me
Every color would be black and white
It would be as flat as the world before Columbus
That's the day that I lose half my sight

If your life were taken from me
All the trees would freeze in this cold ground
It would be as cruel as the world before Columbus
Sail to the edge and I'd be there looking down

Those men who lust for land
And for riches strange and new
Who love those trinkets of desire
Oh they never will have you

And they'll never know the gold
Or the copper in your hair
How could they weigh the worth
Of you so rare

If your love were taken from me
Every light that's bright would soon go dim
It would be as dark as the world before Columbus
Down the waterfall and I'd swim over the brim

Those men who lust for land
And for riches strange and new
Who love those trinkets of desire
Oh they will never have you

And they'll never know the gold
Or the copper in your hair
How could they weigh the worth

. . .


Lyrics by Suzanne Vega
Music by Suzanne Vega and Mitchell Froom 

Lolita
Almost grown
Lolita
Go on home

Hey girl
Don't be a dog all your life
Don't beg for 
Some little crumb of affection

Don't try
To be somebody's wife
So young
You need a word of protection

Lolita
Almost grown
Lolita 
Go on home

Hey girl
I've been where you are standing
Leaning in the doorway
In your mother's black dress

So hungry
For the one understanding
Looking for a token of 
Blood or tenderness

Lolita
Almost grown
Lolita
Go on home


. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

The ceiling had a painting on it
In our room in France
So we were living underneath 
Some angels in a dance

My husband was not feeling well
And so we went to bed
He woke up complaining
Of an aching in his head

He said a hundred people
Had come through our room that night
That one by one the old and young
Asked if he was all right

One by one the old and young
Lined up to touch his hand
He spent the night explaining
They had come to the wrong man

The concierge was less than helpful
When we asked her the next day
With coffee and a magazine
We went to the desk to pay

"What happened in that room?" he asked
"A death or something strange?"
She smiled at him politely
And returned to him his change

Well, what I'd like to know
And this will be a mystery,
Is with all the people in that room
Why none appeared to me?

When we sleep so close together that
Our hair becomes entwined
I must have missed that moment

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

I like a tombstone cause it weathers well
And if it stands or if it crumbles
Only time will tell

If you carve my name in marble
You must cut it deep
There'll be no dancing on the gravestone
You must let me sleep
And time is burning burning burning
It burns away

I don't need to see the gates of famous men
But I do try to see the kingdom
Every now and then

If you ask me where it is it's on a humble map
And I know that to enter in the doorway
Show your handicap
And time is burning burning burning

. . .


Music & Lyrics by Suzanne Vega 

My favorite plum
hangs so far from me
See how it sleeps
and hear how it calls to me
See how the flesh
presses the skin,
It must be bursting
with secrets within,
I've seen the rest, yes
and that is the one for me

See how it shines
it will be so sweet
I've been so dry
it would make my heart complete
See how it lays
languid and slow
Never noticing
me here below
I've seen the best, yes
and that is the one for me

Maybe a girl will take it
Maybe a boy will steal it
Maybe a shake of the bough
will wake it and make it fall

My favorite plum
lies in wait for me
I'll be right here
longing endlessly
You'll say that I'm 
foolish to trust
But it will be mine
and I know that it must
cause I've had the rest, yes
and that is the one for me
I've seen the best, yes

. . .


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