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Back To Hawaii / Bande A Part / Band You Love To Hate / Best Served Cold / Beverly Hills / Birthday / Blasé / Blister / Bomb / Bottom Rung

Back To Hawaii

All of my friends tell me that they wanna visit Hawaii,
It must seem pretty beautiful there away from smoggy city air,
But the last time I went home a sorrow drifted through my soul,
The things I had hoped to see had all changed pretty drastically,
I don't want to see new buildings and I don't want to see new malls,
When I first went home it didn't look this way at all

I can’t go back,
I can’t go back,
I can't go back to Hawaii,
I can’t go back,
I can’t go back,
I can't go back to Hawaii

I want to that same old store,
It isn't there any more,
All of it has been replaced by an air-conditioned Circle K,
What happened to the trees that I knew or the streets where I grew up?
Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til its gone?

I can’t go back,
I can’t go back,
I can't go back to Hawaii,
I can’t go back,
I can’t go back,
I can't go back to Hawaii

They took all the trees and put them in a tree museum
And charged all the people a dollar and a half just to see ‘em

I can’t go back,
I can’t go back,
I can't go back to Hawaii,
I can’t go back,
I can’t go back,
I can't go back to Hawaii

Bande A Part

Available on The Horror Of Life LP/CD.

I open my eyes and all I see are high-priced whores on silver screens,
Culture is war,
Edits are lies,
Run through the Louvre with joy in her eyes,
Under 10 minutes,
Is that how it goes?
The next nouvelle vague will not be exposed,
Death is a star,
I stand in the crowd,
Ignorant bliss is all that surrounds

You laugh, you lose,
Don't wanna see the truth,
You think you know,
Just want some flashy show,
You buy, you pay,
This shit is all the same,
As ignorant as your parents

I open my eyes and all that I see is Hollywood being how it will always be,
It's black and it's white and it all looks so great,
Why would you opt for videotape?
The format you use is the format is you sell,
Hollywood won't challenge you,
It's just not compelled,
Hollywood is such as bad way to die,
It's not worth a shout,
It's not worth a cry

You laugh, you lose,
Don't wanna see the truth,
You think you know,
Just want some flashy show,
You buy, you pay,
This shit is all the same,
As ignorant as your parents

Band You Love To Hate

Backstage passes for the both of you,
Again, what does it mean to you,
You think you're writing wrongs with your old typewriter,
But you haven't got a clue,
Six weeks in and I wish I was out,
I'm missing my amenities,
In a foreign land doing all I can,
Calling home is a luxury

We can be the band you love to hate,
I think it's great,
We demand nothing less,
I'll revel in the pain,
We're the lesser of two evils,
Of which there is no divorce

Red eye to lobby,
Coach to sound check,
Home by the fourth,
Flying to Geneva staring at disgusting airline food,
That was paid for by a third source,
I can think about it,
I can analyze it,
I can find my dollar value,
You know I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to do it,
But I'm made my own mistakes too

We can be the band you love to hate,
I think it's great,
We demand nothing less,
I'll revel in the pain,
We're the lesser of two evils,
Of which there is no divorce

Best Served Cold

Roads and roads of countryside,
With someone left behind,
I get another letter,
It's meant to remind,
"Every day you seem to change",
You don't know what you're saying,
"Every day you seem to change",
You can't begin to imagine

Every word never published,
I would read if you would let me,
Plays, stories and articles,
Miles of horrible poetry,
I'll commit it to memory,
Every word in my memory,
Can't you recognize our mirrored failure,
I'll commit it to memory

Beverly Hills

Available on Analysis, Yes, Very Nice 10"/CDEP. Original version by the Circle Jerks on their album Group Sex, Frontier Records, 1980. Lyrics adapted by Lance. The vocals are heavily distorted at the end, hence the gaps.

Beverly Hills, Century City,
Everything's so nice and pretty
All the people look the same,
Don't they know they're fucking lame?

Here she comes in her stupid suit,
Leather pants and her combat boots
Man, I don't know what I'm gonna do,
I just don't know what I'm gonna do,
All I know is that I’m glad I moved from...

Beverly Hills, Century City,
Everything's so nice and pretty
All the people, they look the same,
Don't they know they're fucking lame?

Here he comes in his stupid suit,
His [...?] shirt and his combat boots,
[...?]
Cos the atmosphere down in Beverly Hills...

Birthday

I thought it was your turn to feel alone,
But I knew I was wrong when I hung up the phone,
You’ve got Mom’s eyes and so do I,
Evident in every tone

So I write another letter,
But it all adds up to nothing,
Today is your birthday,
Have a happy birthday,
There’s nothing that you wanted

I thought I would have a good explanation,
I wanna go back for your high school graduation,
When you cut your lines through the midnight brine,
It’ll be to your best advantage

So I write another letter,
But it all adds up to nothing,
Today is your birthday,
Have a happy birthday,
There’s nothing that you wanted

Blasé

Blister

Broken Bacchanalian blisters,
It’s a long way back to the city,
Drunk on gin and valley heat,
And feeling fuckin’ shitty,
Looking back to Shangri-La,
It’s like a brothel on the border,
Steady hands can’t take a shot,
Clean up this disorder

And the ocean seems so far away,
Got to get back to my...,
Got to get back to my...,
The sun was burning down when I woke up yesterday,
Got to get back to my...,
Got to get back to my...

I had a dream three nights in a row,
It might not mean a thing,
I felt my face in an empty space,
And pulled out all my teeth,
Stranded in a Fresno truckstop,
Paying for ice in a glass,
Rednecks here don’t like my eyes or my face,
They’ll kick my ass

And the ocean seems so far away,
Got to get back to my...,
Got to get back to my...,
The sun was burning down when I woke up yesterday,
Got to get back to my...,
Got to get back to my...

Bomb

Sweat drips down his face as he walks into the place,
That he walks by every single day,
He's only 21, but when his job is done,
Never again will he walk this way

He leaves his bag underneath the seat,
He breaths new air back on city streets,
He knows love grows but a war must be won,
So his bomb that's aimed to kill and maim ticks on and on

The suit and tie that works downtown is standing in the underground,
And he reads the New York Times while he waits,
There's a woman on the phone,
Says she's on her way home,
She could have saved a quarter if she knew her fate

The suit, the tie is a thin disguise,
For a body that has departed, the soul left to rot inside,
And they will not be spared and they will not escape,
The bomb is in a briefcase aimed against the bourgeois state

No chance, no way, they will not escape,
No chance, no way, they will not escape,
'Cause from the day that you're born you're told what to do,
And I think that seems a good enough excuse,
So what do you when you can't take it no more?
Conceal a time bomb in the heart of a department store

Bottom Rung

Me, I’m part of the machine,
The bottom rung of the company,
The only time I start to worry,
Is when the machine becomes part of me

Me and my self esteem...,
I’d like to go back to sleep,
But even my dreams these days,
Have work related scenes

Friday night I went out for a drink,
Saturday and Sunday I was free,
Free to sleep,
Free to read,
Freedom from security

They take away my whole day,
They’re taking my soul away,
Taking my heart and soul,
For products useless anyway

Me, when I was younger I thought I was free,
How much wronger could I be?
The company will grind on careless,
With or without me

Friday night I went out for a drink,
Saturday and Sunday I was free,
Free to read,
Free to drink,
Freedom from security

J Church Lyric Book: B

Back To Hawaii

Bande A Part

Band You Love To Hate

Best Served Cold

Beverly Hills

Birthday

Blasé

Blister

Bomb

Bottom Rung