1. |
Devil in my Room
03:35
|
|||
|
I saw a brave figure weeping, as the gutter filled with sorry
He was taking days to die and I think he called your name
There was a dirty sky awaking and the clouds they offered darkness
But my spirits slowly lifted and I know . . . . this ain’t no place to die
But I did all of this for you I did everything there was
And there is no second life with my head dug in the sand
Oh my darkest fears appeared when I looked into your eyes
After all my living Hell I came back . . . . and found you with another
Oh Dear God I wish I had the strength to meet you
But I’m holding onto a dream that will deceive me
And I’ll never recognise those dreams, oh,
with your lips around a bottle probably shared with the kisses of a stranger
I guess I’m sitting in a room and with a firearm in my room
A bad idea comes up behind me I place a cartridge in the chamber
It’s so quiet in the sad room in this room we spent alone
I observe a hollow sound, Do I spin the six to one outsider?
Oh Dear God I wish I had the strength to meet you
But I’m holding onto a dream that will deceive me
And I’ll never recognise those dreams, oh,
Your Body is a no man’s land that yields to the kisses of a stranger
|
||||
2. |
Correction Stack
03:23
|
|||
|
Breaking rocks on a southern stack,
with a hammer chained around my neck
looked over by a cruel set of shades
and reeking of mustard in my lungs.
I hope I never make that dusty ride,
breaking rocks and heads in Correction stack.
I crawl into the trees millstone around my neck
and let me lie in the slime
that surrounds and collects me.
|
||||
3. |
Thirst
02:42
|
|||
|
Well I switched across these desert dunes,
And all my bandaged body knows is thirst,
I scrape the dirt between my toes
And feel my guts a screaming out a thirst,
Lost among a million grains of dust,
Inside my dried out frame there is a thirst.
Well I left behind a long faced girl,
Who knows the sunken solitude that thirsts,
And while the sun dries out my soul,
a longing in my heart cries out for her,
Lost inside my fickle head a burst,
Inside my dried out frame there is a thirst.
Well I dig my head into the dirt
And slowly try to forget this thirst,
I think about that long faced girl
And scratch a little deeper in the dirt,
Lost among a million grains of sand
I know I’ve come this far right to the end.
|
||||
4. |
||||
|
I am the stranger, I am the stranger,
The diseased stranger, from out of town.
Am C
Well, I ask so completely for mercy,
E7
Rope burns that beat like the living,
Am C
Under the freeway or under the sun,
E7
The words that I write are chocked from my throat,
Am C
I’ll confess almost anything going,
E7
I shot the president three times from all sides,
Am C
The stranger lost in the Orchard,
E7
Too many souls and no one alive.
I am the Stranger, I am the stranger,
The diseased stranger, from out of town.
Am C
I am the Stranger, I am the scapegoat,
E7
I am disease from out of town,
Am C
Don’t string up my marrow drawn bones,
E7
I am the last of the living outlaws,
Am C
Yeah don’t drag my bloated body,
E7
And fling me down in the stream,
Am C
The fish are the biters of disease,
E7
And deserve me more than they.
I am the Stranger, I am the stranger,
The diseased stranger, from out of town.
|
||||
5. |
Burning Town
03:40
|
|||
|
On when I leave this brittle town, don't try to stop me burning it down
Cos if you leave a lonely match, there's only one use I can make.
Because I love to see a burning town, I love to see this brittle town go down.
I saw the planet structure burn
With my one match hell did appear,
A greater fire I could not see
At times it seems to burn the very sphere.
|
||||
6. |
The Judge
03:50
|
|||
|
The Judge is a better man than I,
but I have his soul which he sold
I also have his word that he won't kill me,
the Judge is still in trouble.
The Judge wants to buy his soul back, but all the money in the world
won't make me lose his soul
I have many pockets in my clothes
The Judge has a chief prosecutor man,
blood brothers from the same dirty needle
Judge money and the panegyric kid
I can stop their supply I am powerful
The judge has some sinister secrets
I have pictures and tapes of his efforts
Black insect laughter on yellow wax
Chief prosecutor keeps guard, but he has his price.
|
||||
7. |
Daniella
04:31
|
|||
|
Some grenade chewer burns his radio, walks out shoots out his head,
Some desert dying eating dust delays to give me water …….. Slow and cold.
A figure crosses to the city,
And singing city curls her lips and spits and the nags and the lags drink in this church, communion cocktails from a scared straw.
Daniella, sits outside and among us, uninvited, disguised, deflowered, they’re singing her name in the fire, ……………. love burns him out of the trench and into cross fire.
A figure’s shadow stops and swears and down the dead men lay so swell,
And figure embarrassed by proceedings invites the birds to ……. undress him there.
|
||||
8. |
Plenty More Mutants
03:20
|
|||
|
Unchain my heart from this brittle part,
I’ve worn it out, inside out,
Part company with a snow-faced girl,
Shining up revolver Joe.
There’s plenty more mutants, in the septic pond,
Plenty more rides on the septic surf.
I lost my heart to a red haired singer,
Too much torch and a broken voice,
Hard boiled songs from a hard boiled voice,
Shining up revolver Joe.
There’s plenty more mutants, in the septic pond,
Plenty more rides on the septic surf.
|
||||
9. |
Big Cypress
03:19
|
|||
|
A
Big storm blowing through this window,
A
Blowin’ pages from this table,
G
Crusty notes of shrinking songs in Big Cypress,
A
Big Cypress whistles through my sorry shack
E
I’m sittin’ alone in Big Cypress
A
Head full of ideas and invention,
E
Big Cypress hold my dreams
G
Big Cypress holds my dreams afloat
Rain runs the ink of the thoughts in my head,
It’s raining on me Big Cypress dead,
No silence while the weather rages Big Cypress,
Big Cypress screams through my hollow head
|
||||
10. |
Opium Den
03:45
|
|||
|
I am an isolated mercenary boy, surrounded by unsympathetic sorry souls
Holding out on an oblivion Opium Den
So unhouse trained I begin to wonder I wonder
Chorus
From Krays to Dillinger, dark danger confounds me
Assassins a plenty sunken stupor . . . Opium Den
Verse 2
And I found their mad makeshift Opium Den surrounded by assassin opie Chinamen
In a house of Polit bureau, Keen bogie men
So unhouse trained I begin to wonder, I wonder
Middle 8
Dead head solvent bed collapsed with a hopeful dead
Grinding down an Opie head, eating out the Opie Head
Assassin’s eyes so sleepy dead, Trigger head a lazy head . . . . Assassin’s lead . . . Opium Den
|
||||
11. |
She Mercenary
03:10
|
|||
12. |
The Lung Knives
03:45
|
|||
|
Yeah, you scraped around, and found my soul.
And carved a notch deep inside my head
Then reeling closer you found an opening,
With both hands you collapsed my lung
Yeah She's sharp x3
but not as sharp a the Lung knives.
|
||||
13. |
The Interior
02:46
|
|||
|
Wounded souls lie in my box
I curse the man who put them there
Drowned and burn not dead not dead
she scratched the tears from her eyes.
Oh in the Interior don't shout
The tongue is scorched to the bitter root in the interior
I throw them out into the cold
I throw them out they grow and grow
She scratched the wounded souls and oh,
she recalls the bitter tongue
|
||||
inca babies Manchester, UK
The story of the Inca Babies began in the now-legendary deck access flats of Hulme in Manchester.Here in 1984 they released their debut single interior. and preceded to release much material and tour around Europe. Now 35 years later they have had a new lease of life and release their 8th studio Album Swamp Street Soul. With Original Guitarist Harry Stafford, joined by Vince Hunt and Rob Haynes ... more
If you like inca babies, you may also like:
Bone Architecture
by Harry Stafford and Marco Butcher
supported by 6 fans who also own “Plutonium”
go to album
Gothic Urban Blues
by Harry Stafford
supported by 5 fans who also own “Plutonium”
go to album
supported by 4 fans who also own “Plutonium”
A work of considerable power and subtlety. Certainly a grower but I was hooked on first listen and it seems to improve on subsequent plays. Well done to everyone involved and good luck for the future, hopefully a long and successful future.
go to album
“Strangers” is packed with wonderfully menacing electro-goth—late-night horror movie music for vampire dance parties.
go to album
The End Is the Beginning
by Mirror Of Haze
Perfectly gloomy Norwegian goth/post-punk, anchored by a punchy rhythm section and driven by chiming guitar lines and morose vocals.
go to album
An epic dark rock record that will make fans of Sisters of Mercy swoon—massive chords and choruses, plus gothic grandeur.
go to album
We are the Perilous Men
by Harry Stafford & Marco Butcher
supported by 4 fans who also own “Plutonium”
go to album
