| Beat Soup / Press / Lyrics | May 29, 2002 |
| First Album | Second Album |
Third Album |
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Who Knows? Drain Dream Something To Be Long Time Nature boy (Instrumental) Coup de Ska Die a Little Peace Down Time ain't Money Message to Zion Conspiracy of Purpose Little Monsters
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Bad Head My Pleasure The King is Dead Taxi Being There Miriam Your Toast is Burning Wayo The Fifty Seven Every Day Fly off the Handle Smoke Licking Stick |
Modern
Super Hero |
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| Wayo © 1997 Healey/Sewell |
My girl shouts shes had it up to here, shes screaming
at me I hear her scream So I lie and say I understand her Exactly what she means My boss doesnt even know my name, no wonder I Dont like my job So I tried to tell her my names Tom and she said fine; Fine thank you Bob (Woke up talking in my sleep last night, and the words I said They made no sense Started talking bout some Island somewhere Well you know what I meant |
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| Modern Super
Hero © 2000 T. Healey |
Im a modern Super-hero But Im living in the same old-fashioned world With a tolerance of zero For the villains in the uptight underworld And they know who they are The modern Super hero Doesnt bother with the silk shoes, mask, and cape Hes not afraid to let his fear show The outer hero needs to let the inner coward escape Every now and then Im a modern super Im a hero for the new age Fighting to protect the new morality And you oughta see my web page Im living virtual immortality And its all for free Im a modern super hero |
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| Two Eyes Too
Much © 2000 T. Healey |
Two eyes too much Two hands to block our vision But no such luck We see with such precision A world gone mad Before our eyes Are we designed To seek a better fate or Are we resigned To hang around and wait for The final act The last goodbye And I dont wanna see where were going to be If we keep moving at this pace Our talking made us tired The starting pistol fired But were still wasting time were standing at the starting line Is it my eyes Addition by subtraction Were standing by For someones gut reaction To choose our brand Of daily bread Goodbye |
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| Taxi © 1994 T. Healey |
Taxi! |
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| What a Man
Doeth © Morris |
What a man doeth this day; stands in his way What a man doeth this day will stand in his way What he sows, thats what he will reap What he reaps, thats what he shall eat What a man soweth this day, so shall he reap Its a lesson for everyone to learn Its a lesson for everyone to learn If hes right, then hell be inside If hes wrong, he better hear well What a man doeth this day, stands in his way What a man doeth this day; stands in his way What a man doeth this day will stand in his way What he sows, thats what he will reap What he reaps, thats what he shall eat What a man soweth this day, so shall he reap What a man soweth this day, so shall he reap What a man soweth this day, so shall he reap (fade) |
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| Lickin
Stick © Dekker |
Mama Mama Mama me say come here quick Papa Papa lick me with the lickin stick I got the flippy hiccups I got the flippy hiccups Mama Mama Mama I am feeling sick Papa papa lick me with the lickin stick I got the flippy hiccups I got the flippy hiccups Ice water to put out the fire Ice water Ice water to put out the fire Ice water Mama Mama Mama me say come here quick Papa Papa lick me with the lickin stick I got the flippy hiccups I got the flippy hiccups Ice water to put out the fire Ice water Ice water to put out the fire Ice water Mama Mama Mama me say come here quick Papa Papa lick me with the lickin stick Mama Mama Mama me say come here quick Papa Papa lick me with the lickin stick |
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| Fly off
the Handle © 2000 K. Schneider |
Saturday morning still in bed Saturday night was rough on my head G'day my sweet It's me once more You come out late to look for a fight |
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| Bad Head © 2000 D. Cuetara |
She was an English girl Or so somebody said A victim of entropy And bullets in the head She worked an English day From 9 to 17 Captains of Industry Were ghosts in her machine She had a bad head, a bad head, a bad head She had a part to play She played it very well No one would ever know her private living hell One night the lights went out Her mind just blew a fuse I read it all today on the early evening news She had a bad head, a bad head, a bad head Some people dream at night They wake up - they get old Some people scream at night Some people explode You heard that hollow sound You smoke the cigarette of doubt You have to swallow it down She just blew it out Silhoutte the letter, the note on the night stand Picking up the pieces that had never been one I can recollect the note she left in her right hand The note she wrote that she signed with a gun. |
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| Miriam
Your Toast is Burning © 2000 Healey/Cuetara |
In an existential quandry - in an existential quandry Airing dirty mental laundry - airing dirty mental laundry I don't know what, but I'm learning - but he is learning And I don't give a damn what the bastards want Miriam your toast is burning Turn away from the blurry picture - turn away from the blurry picture While you wrestle with TV scripture - while you wrestle with TV scripture, right! Right, if you're not too discerning - not too discerning And you don't give a damn what the little girls want Miriam your toast is burning Stop staring I can read the lines And don't flash back at me like a one way warning sign You reach your passion on the second look You've got a life like the title of a drugstore dirtybook that says I can seperate fact from fiction - he can seperate fact from fiction I believe in contradiction - no you don't - yes I do and if you're not too discerning - not too discerning And you don't give a damn what anybody wants Miriam your toast is burning Miriam your toast's on fire I can seperate fact from fiction - he can seperate fact from fiction I remember Richard Nixon - he remembers who? Like him if you're not too discerning - not too discerning And you don't give a damn what the bastards want Miriam your toast is burning Miriam your toast is done. |
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| The
Fifty Seven © 2000 D. Cuetara |
She took the Bus, The Fifty Seven from Brighton He saw his name in the book she was writing It was The Myth of Private Property God and Man He didn't need to understand The Fifty Seven turns left into Allston Like waking up from a dream ythat you were lost in With some old aging lunatic by your side Swimming with you against the tide I never had no direction That's why I spread myself around It don't bother me I've got connections All over this town I'm on the Bus I'm on the Bus I'm on the Bus, The Fifty Seven from Brighton I'm on the Bus |
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| Reasonable
Man © 2000 Cuetara/Healey) |
All around the world people are saying something Lips move, the joint is jumping I know that love is only seasonable I know, cause I'm a reasonable man I'm a reasonable man All around the world, people will tell you that They'll lie at the drop of a hat But I know that love is only seasonable I know, cause I'm a reasonable man Theres's time to tell you the time's not ready for love Beneath or above, the object of Affectation is so much easier than, the boys in the band, let's give 'em a hand And let the people know that All around the world People will tell you that They'll lie, they'll lie through their hat But I know that love is only seasonable, I know, I'm a reasonable man Drink, drink, drink, drink Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight All day and all night, alright Summer's over and Baby's been wanting to fly She expects me to cry, and wave bye bye But You people know... |
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| Every
Day © Holly |
Every day, It's a getting closer Going faster than a roller coaster Love like yours will surely come my way Every day It's a getting faster Everyone says go ahead and ask her Love like yours will surely come my way Every day seems a little longer Every day love's a little stronger Come what may do you ever long for True love from me? Every day It's a getting faster Everyone says go ahead and ask her Love like yours will surely come my way Every day seems a little longer Every day love's a little stronger Come what may do you ever long for True love from me? Every day, It's a getting closer Going faster than a roller coaster Love like yours will surely come my way |
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The King is Dead © 2000 D. Cuetara |
I was born an American, 35 years in a week, next Sunday Self inflicting Benediction by your bedside |
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| Smoke © 1996 D. Cuetara |
Dont wanna see no smoke come rising |
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| Platinum Valium © 2000 D. Cuetara |
You didnt ask for the Album |
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| Message to
Zion © 1995 T. Healey and D. Cuetara |
Gonna to
send a message to Zion A message to Zion I sent a letter to Zion Address unknown. Long distance phone call to Zion No one home. A letter to Zion A letter to Zion I don't want to go It's not my life, I won't put on a show Rasta machine, I know the words, I don't know what they mean. There is a circus in Zion I'm a clown. They won't desert us in Zion Don't let me down. I am a soldier of Zion I need a shoulder to cry on. A message to Zion A message to Zion I don't want to go It's not my life I won't put on a show Rasta machine I know enough not to know what they mean. |
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| Who Knows? © 1997 D. Cuetara |
Writing a
book that will shed new light On the final five years of his half-brother's life He takes the fifteen minutes that Andy gave him Turns the volume up and hopes that the TV can save him. But I don't read the papers and I don't write books I don't subscribe to the issues or take second looks I believe half of what I see and everything I'm told Who knows, who cares? You feel around for something moving in the dark It's the specific application of the question mark We all know what they say when you go too far We all know what they say we just don't know who they are I won't sell my soul for another sordid page in your bible Living on the edge get's you another cheap shot at survival That was the situation, long time ago We were strung out on expectations, that's a long row to hoe Now I'm a member incorporated, I've signed my name And I know that I've cooperated, I feel the same. But Who knows? Who knows, who cares? I'm not a hipocryte Who knows, who cares? I've made my peace with it. |
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| Time ain't
Money © 1995 D. Cuetara |
Time ain't money, time ain't
money no And war is not peace and the west is not the east And a famine's not a feast and you've got me on my knees thinking Time is money, yeah. My brother joined the army cause he wants to be a man And he wants to see the world and be all that he can But that's no consolation on the day we got the wire That your Uncle Sam is sorry but at least it was friendly fire Time ain't money, time ain't money no And war is not peace and the west is not the east And a famine's not a feast and you've got me on my knees thinking Time is money, yeah. No consolation you got no way to say goodbye No consolation it's just word assassination It's only what they need to get by It's just a little white lie, just a little white lie It's just a little white lie, just a little white lie When the tell you... "Ensuing obligations are forthrighteously defined..." Read this paper on my car now I've got to pay a parking fine The judge the legal system and a jury of my peers All agreed that twenty dollars now would save me twenty years Time ain't money, time ain't money no And war is not peace and the west is not the east And a famine's not a feast and you've got me on my knees thinking that Time is money yeah. Energy is matter times the speed of light squared And they tell me that's important but me? I never really cared Cause I'm no rocket scientist and I don't understand But if you've got a second I'll sell it to you second hand that Time ain't money, time ain't money no And war is not peace and the west is not the east And a famine's not a feast and you've got me on my knees thinking that Time is money yeah. |
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| Something
To Be © 1997 D. Cuetara |
Something to
be: a man Something to feel: sorrow The plan is beg, borrow, lead or follow And give the monkey a peanut He has learned to write his name Something to be: the rock Something to be: the roller I've got the frequency Maybe I'll just hack the controller And give the monkey a peanut He has learned to sign a check Don't drown yourself by the riverside Its such a drab, unemotional enterprise You might be stricken with tradition But those dogs don't bite Its a pretty sad condition But its only ever something to be Something to see: the light Something to fight: the addiction It's black and white But I can contain contradiction And give the monkey a peanut He has learned to take a chance |
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| Little
Monsters © 1996 D. Cuetara and E. Kaye |
I'm an ugly
man Face and teeth and hair I'm a little monster, don't be scared By the sins of our fathers And their fathers before The night is young, let's sin some more All men are monsters and they do just what they please They like to have you there for their monstrocities They're all little monsters, creatures of the night Little monsters, don't know wrong from right Little Monsters, don't know who is who Little monsters in your beds with you. I'm Quasimodo I've got a hunch, Meet me in my belltower, we'll do lunch. With Bela Lugosi and Lon Cheney two, Full moon, hot night, cold blood and you. All men are cavemen and they do just what they please hit woman on the head, drag home by hair for tea We're all little monsters, creatures of the night Little monsters, don't know wrong from right Little Monsters, don't know who is who Little monsters in your beds with you. I'm Elvis Presley Long live the king I'm Jesus Christ Same thing As long as there's power As long as there's wealth Some man will grab it for himself Cause all men are babies and they never act their age All men are actors, girl, and all the world's a stage to play Little monsters, creatures of the night Little monsters, don't know wrong from right Little Monsters, don't know who is who Little monsters in your beds with you. |
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| Long Time © 1997 D. Cuetara |
I spent a
long time with you I spent a long time watching |
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