ARCTIC'S POST: NEW LYRICS

RED RIGHT HAND (Nick Cave cover)

We'll take a little walk to the edge of town
And go across the tracks
Go where the viaduct looms,
like a bird of doom
And shifts and cracks
Where secrets lie in the humming wires
and the border fires,
Where you know you're never coming back,

Past the square, past the mill,
past the bridge, past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes
a tall handsome man
In a dusty black coat with
a Red Right Hand,

He'll wrap you in his arms,
and tell you that you've been a good boy
He'll rekindle all of those dreams
it took you a lifetime to destroy
He'll reach deep into the hole,
heal your shrinking soul
and there wont be a single thing
that you can do
He's a man, he's a god,
he's a ghost, he's a guru
They're whispering his name
across this disappearing land
But hidden in his coat
is a Red Right Hand,

You havn't got no money?
He'll get you some
You havn't got no car? He'll get you one
You got no self-respect,
You feel like an insect
Well don't you worry buddy,
cause here he comes
Through the ghettos and the barrio
and the bowery and the slum
A shadow is cast wherever he stands
Stacks of green paper in his
Red Right Hand..


You see him in your nightmares,
you see him in your dreams
But he'll appear out of nowhere but
he's not what he seems
You'll see him in your head,
on the TV screen
And hey buddy, I'm warning
you to turn it off
He's a god, he's a ghost,
he's a man, he's a guru,
You're one microscopic cog
in his catastrophic plan
Designed and directed by
his Red Right Hand...............



CRYING LIGHTNING

Sat in the cafe by the cracker factory,
You were practicing a magic trick,
And my thoughts got rude, as you talked and chewed,
On the last of your pic and mix.

Said your mistaken if you thinking that i have been caught cold before
As you bit into your strawberry lace,
And then a flip in your attention in the form of a gobstopper,
Is all you have left and it was going to waste.

Your past-times, consisted of the strange,
And twisted and deranged,
And I love that little game you had called,
Crying lightning,
And how you like to aggravate the ice-cream man on rainy afternoons.

The next time that I caught my own reflection,
It was on it's way to meet you,
Thinking of excuses to postpone.
You never look like yourself from the side,
But your profile did not hide,
The fact you knew I was approaching your throne.

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache
Saw them, puff your chest out like you never lost a war.
And though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw.

And your past-times, consisted of the strange,
And twisted and deranged,
And I hate that little game you had called,
Crying lightning,
And how you like to aggravate the icky man on rainy afternoons.

Uninviting,
But not half as impossible as everyone assumes,
You are crying lightning.

Your past-times, consisted of the strange,
And twisted and deranged,
And I hate that little game you had called,
Crying lightning,
Crying lightning,
Crying lightning,
Crying lightning.

Your past-times, consisted of the strange,
And twisted and deranged,
And I hate that little game you had called,
Cry-ing.