|
|
Fugazi |
|
 |
 |
|
I am the assassin, with tongue forged from eloquence
I am the assassin, providing your Nemesis
On the sacrificial altar to success, my friend,
Unleash a stranger from a kiss, my friend,
No incantations of remorse, my friend, Unsheathe the blade within the voice,
my friend, my friend, my friend, my friend
I am the assassin, assassin, assassin
Who decorates the scarf with the fugi knot
Who camouflaged emotion in a thousand yard stare,
Who gouged the notches from the family tree
Who hypnotised the guilt in career rhythm trance.
Assassing, assassing, assassing, assassing,
Listen to the blade, feel the blade!
Listen as the syllables of slaughter cat with calm precision
Patterned frosty phrases rape your ears
And sow the ice incision
Adjectives of annihilation
Bury the point beyond redemption
Venomous verbs of ruthless candour
Plagiarise assassins fervour
Apocalyptic alphabet casting spell
The creed of tempered diction
My friend, your friend the assassin,
My friend, your friend the assassin,
A friend in need is a friend that bleeds,
A friend in need is a friend that bleeds,
Let bitter silence infect the wound,
Let bitter silence infect the wound
I am the assassin, my friend
I am the assassin, my friend
I am the assassin, my friend
I am ... assassin!
You were a sentimental mercenary in a free fire zone parading a Hollywood conscience
You were a fashionable objector with a uniform fetish,
Pavlovian slaver at the cash till ring of success
A non com observer - I assassin the collector - defector
So you resigned yourself to failure, my friend,
And I emerged the chilling stranger, my friend,
To eradicate the problem, my friend,
Unsheathe the blade within the voice, within the voice,
Within the voice, within the voice.
And what do you call assassins who accuse assassins anyway, my friend?
(In the edited version the purple coloured parts are missing.)
Punch, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy
Washing machine, pinstripe dream
Stripped the gloss from a beauty queen, Punch and Judy, [Judy]
Found our nest, in the Daily Express,
Met the vicar in a holy vest, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy
Brought up the children Church of E,
Now I vegetate with a colour TV,
Worst ever thing that ever happened to me,
Oh, for D.I.V.O.R.C.E., oh Judy
Whatever happened to pillow fights
Whatever happened to jeans so tight, Friday nights
Whatever happened to lover's lane
Whatever happened to passion games,
Sunday walks in the pouring rain
Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy
Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy, Punch and Judy
Curling ton, mogadons,
"I got a headache baby, don't take so long"
Single beds, middle age dread,
Losing the war in the Waistlands spread
Who left the cap of the toothpaste tube,
Who forgot to flush the loo,
Leave your sweaty socks outside the door
Don't walk across my polished floor, oh Judy
Whatever happened to morning smiles,
Whatever happened to wicked wiles, permissive styles,
Whatever happened to twinkling eyes,
Whatever happened to hard fast drives,
Complements on unnatural size
Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy, Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy
Punch, Punch, Punch and Judy.
Propping up a bar, family car,
Sweating out a mortgage as a balding clerk,
Punch and Judy, [Judy]
World war three, suburbanshee,
Just slip her these pills and I'll be free.
No more Judy, Judy. Judy no more! Goodbye Judy!
We are jigsaw pieces aligned on the perimeter edge,
Interlocked through a missing piece,
We are renaissance children becalmed beneath the Bridge of Sighs,
Forever throwing firebrands at the stonework,
We are Siamese children related by the heart,
Bleeding from the surgery of initial confrontation,
Holding the word scalpels on trembling lips
Stand straight, look me in the eye and say goodbye,
Stand straight, we've drifted past the point of reasons why,
Yesterday starts tomorrow, tomorrow starts today,
And the problem always seems to be we're picking up the pieces
on the ricochet, this is the ricochet.
Drowning tequila sunsets, stowaways on midnight ships,
Refugees of romance plead asylum from the real,
Scrambling distress signals on random frequencies,
Forever repatriated on guilt laden morning planes,
We are pilots of passion sweating the flight on course,
To another summit conference, another breakfast time divorce,
Screaming out a ceasefire, snowblind in an avalanche zone.
Stand straight, look me in the eye and say goodbye, say goodbye
Stand straight, we've drifted past the point of reasons why,
Yesterday starts tomorrow, tomorrow starts today,
And the problem always seems to be we're picking up the pieces
on the ricochet, this is the ricochet.
Are we trigger happy?
Russian roulette in the waiting room,
Empty chambers embracing the end,
Puzzled visions haunt the ripples of a trevi moon,
Dream coins for the fountain or to cover your eyes,
We reached ignition point from the sparks of pleasantries,
We sensed the smoke advancing from horizons,
You must have known that I was concealing an escape
Stand straight, look me in the eye and say goodbye, say goodbye
Stand straight, we've drifted past the point of reasons why,
Yesterday starts tomorrow, tomorrow starts today, starts today,
And the problem always seems to be we're picking up the pieces
on the ricochet, this is the ricochet.
I'll be seeing you again, on the ricochet
Will you show me the pieces next time, on the ricochet
I'll be seeing you again, on the ricochet
There's a problem, there's a ricochet.
To be the prince of possession in the gallery of contempt
Suffering your indiscrete discretions and you ask me to relent
As you accumulate flirtations with the calculated calmness of the whore,
Of the whore.
I am the harlequin - diamonded costume dripping shades of green
I am the harlequin - sense strangers violate my sanctuary,
Prowl my dreams
My dreams, and they're my dreams, they're my dreams
Plundering your diaries, I'll steal your thoughts innocence,
Ravaging your letters, unearth your plots innocence, what a surprise, Innocence, what a
surprise, [Innocence]
To don the robes of Torquemada, resurrect the inquisition
In that tortured subtle manner inflict questions within questions,
Within questions,
Looking in shades of green through shades of blue,
I trust you trust in me to mistrust you.
Through the Silk Cut haze to the smeared mascara
A 40 watt sun on a courtroom drama.
And the coffee stains gather till the pale kimono
Set the wedding rings dancing on the cold linoleum, this is innocence
And accusations moths that circle on the light
They char their wings and spiral senseless suicidal flight
You packed your world within a suitcase, hot tears melt this icy palace
And dissolve a crystal swallowed by the night
Looking in shades of green through shades of blue,
Looking in shades of green through shades of blue,
These shades of blue, of blue
Sheltering her ego on the edge of a floodlit arc,
She'll contemplate seduction, she'll calculate the catch,
When she moved, her presence speared me
When she spoke, her words ensnared me
Watch the lizard, watch the lizard, watch
Watch the lizard with the crimson veil.
Distinctly a casual affair
She crucified my heart in the depth of a satin grave,
As I lay in sweating monologue I sensed the lovelight fade,
Within the spiral of the cigarette, you betrayed your bedside etiquette,
I saw the lizard, touch, I saw the lizard, touch
I touched the lizard with the crimson veil.
I've seen a different doorway shut a million times before,
The smiling she chameleon, the smiling vinyl whores
Distinctly a casual affair
They know what they want, they sing your name
And glide between the sheets,
I never say no, in chemical glow we'll let our bodies meet,
So was it just a fuck, was it just a fuck, just another fuck I said,
Loving just for laughs, carnal autograph, lying on a lizard's bed.
So was it just a fuck, was it just a fuck, just another fuck I bled,
Degraded and alone, raped and still forlorn,
Betrayed on a lizard's bed, on a lizards bed.
We chameleon, we chameleon, we [oui!] chameleon.
When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion forwarned
My audience leaves the stage, floating ahead perfumed shift,
Within the stammering silence, the face that launched a thousand frames,
Betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career, career.
You played this scene before, you played this scene before
I the mote in your eye, eye, eye, eye, I the mote in your eye,
A misplaced reaction, reaction
The darkroom unleashes imagination in pornographic images
In which you will always be the star, always be the star, untouchable,
Unapproachable, constant in the darkness, in the darkness, in the darkness,
Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction,
With no flower to place before this gravestone,
And the walls become enticingly newspaper thin,
But that would be developing the negative view,
And you have to be exposed in voyeuristic colour,
The public act, let you model your shame
On the mannequin catwalk, catwalk,
Let the cats walk, and the cat walks
I've played this scene before, I've played this scene before,
I the mote in your eye, eye, eye, eye, I the mote in your eye,
A misplaced reaction, satisfaction
A irritating speck of dust that came from absolutely nowhere...
You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs,
The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear,
Who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity,
Sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity,
You who I directed with lovers will, you who I let hypnotise the lens,
You who I let bathe in the spotlights glare,
You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask,
Just like a greasepaint mask.
But now I'm the snake in the grass, the ghost of filmreels past,
I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun,
It's just begun, it's just begun
Your perimeter of courtiers jerk like celluloid puppets
As you stutter paralysed with rabbits eyes, searing the shadows,
Flooding the wings, to pluck elusive salvation from the understudy's lips,
Retrieve the soliloque, maintain the obituary,
My cue line in the last act and you wait in silent solitude
Waiting for the prompt, [waiting for the prompt]
You've played this scene before
Vodka intimate, an affair with isolation in a blackheath cell,
Extinguishing the fires in a private hell,
Provoking the heartache to renew the licence
Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule
Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience
Wrapped in the christening shawl of a hangover,
Baptised in the tears from the real, tears from the real
Drowning in the liquid seize on the Piccadilly line, rat race,
Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth,
[Caress Ophelias hand with breathstroke ambition,
An albatross in the marrytime tradition,]
Sheathed within the walkman wear the halo of distortion,
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation,
[She turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart
She hung herself around my neck]
From the Time-Life-Guardians in their conscience bubbles,
Safe and dry in my sea of troubles,
Nine to five with suitable ties,
Cast adrift as their sideshow, peepshow, stereo hero,
Becalm bestill, bewitch, drowning in the real.
The thief of Baghdad hides in Islingtown now
Praying deportation for his sacred cow,
A legacy of romance from a twilight world
The dowry of a relative mystery girl
A Vietnamese flower, a dockland union,
A mistress of release from a magazine's thighs,
Magdalenes contracts more than favours
The feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat
A son of a swastika of '45 parading a peroxide standard,
Graffiti disciples testaments of hatred,
Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights trim the barbed wire hedges,
This is Brixton chess
A knight for Embankment folds his newspaper castle,
A creature of habit, begs the boatman's coin,
He'll fade with old soldiers in the grease stained roll call,
And linger with the heartburn of Good Friday's last supper
Son watches father scan obituary columns in search of absent school friends,
While his generation digests high fibre ignorance,
Cowering behind curtains and the taped up painted windows,
Decriminalised genocide, provided door to door Belsens
Pandora's box of holocausts gracefully cruising satellite infested heavens,
Waiting, wai-wai-waiting, the season of the button, the penultimate migration,
Radioactive perfumes, for the fashionably, for the terminally insane, insane,
D-d-do you realise? D-d-do you realise?
D-d-do you realise, this world is totally fugazi
[Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries, where are the poets,
To breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary]
