River of Deceit, by Mad Season, 1994
My pain is self-chosen
At least, so the prophet says
I could either burn
Or cut off my pride and buy some time
A head full of lies is the weight, tied to my waist
The river of deceit pulls down, oh oh
The only direction we flow is down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
My pain is self-chosen
At least I believe it to be
I could either drown
Or pull off my skin and swim to shore
Now I can grow a beautiful shell for all to see
The music for "River of Deceit" came out of rehearsals that the group had before vocalist Layne Staley joined the band. Much of "River of Deceit", lyrically, was inspired by The Prophet by Khalil Gibran, which Staley read during the making of the album. Drummer Barrett Martin said, "Layne Staley felt as though he was on a spiritual mission through his music. Not a rock mission, a spiritual mission." Staley also wrote the song partially about his drug addiction which would eventually lead to his death in 2002.
Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns, from Mother Love Bone's 1989 "Shine"
Chloe don't know better
Chloe just like me, only beautiful
A couple of years of difference
But those lessons never learned
Chloe danced the tables in the french quarter
She always been given so I can't always make her laugh
But I'm proud to say
And I won't forget
Time spent laying by her side
Time spent laying by her side
And dreams like this must die
And dreams like this must die
And dreams like this must
You ever heard the story of Mr.Faded Glory?
Say he who rides a pony must someday fall
Been talkin' to my alter
Say life is what you make it
And if you make it death well then rest your soul away
Away away yeah child
It's a broken kind of feeling
She'd have to tie me to the ceiling
A bad moon's a comin' better say your prayers, child
I want to tell her that I love you
But does it really matter?
I just can't stand to see you dragging down Again
Again
My baby again, oh, yeah
So I'm singing
And this is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's unkind and leaves me alone
Yes it does
And this is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's unkind that leaves me alone
I uses to treat you like a lady
Now you're a substitute teacher
This bottle's not a pretty, not a pretty sight
I owe the man some money so I'm turnin' over honey
You see Mr.Faded Glory is once again doin' time, oh yeah
And this is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's the kind the leaves me alone
Yes, it does
And this is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's the kind that, it's the kind that
It leaves me alone, yeah
Like a crown of thorns
It's all who you know, yeah
So don't burn your bridges woman
'Cause someday, yeah
Kick it, oh yeah
And this is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's the kind that leaves me alone, yeah
This is my kinda love
It's the kind that moves on
It's the kind that, it's the kind that, yeah, yeah
Baby
I said com' on, com' on, com' on com' on yeah
I said baby
Don't burn your bridges, woman
Don't come back here
I said good times, tu tu tu
Tu tu tu
I said tu tu tu
"Chloe Dancer" is about lead singer Andy Wood's muse/fiancee, Xana La Fuente, who had planned to be a stripper to support the pair, but left the club after one hour. "Crown of Thorns" was written about their nasty breakup over his on and-off-again dabbling in heroin and alcohol. "This song is about a relationship ruined by drugs," she explains. "He wrote it about our near breakup, and how I tried to control him and the drugs--hence his allusion to being tied to the ceiling."
Wilma's Rainbow, from Helmet's 1994 "Betty"
You heard about, 'be your own man'
You talk a lot and loud
Illustrate the obvious boy
You're mentally endowed
Watershed year comes
You're flush with fever
The richest junk dealer
Honestly, a book you read once let you
Think in rhyme. the old extreme sits
Pale and molds now for the
Millionth time
Wilma's rainbow of peaceful colors
The richest junk dealer
Björk - Hyperballad
We live on a mountain
Right at the top
There's a beautiful view
From the top of the mountain
Every morning I walk towards the edge
And throw little things off
Like car-parts, bottles and cutlery
Or whatever I find lying around
It's become a habit
A way to start the day
I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you
It's real early morning
No-one is awake
I'm back at my cliff
Still throwing things off
I listen to the sounds they make
On their way down
I follow with my eyes 'til they crash
Imagine what my body would sound like
Slamming against those rocks
When it lands
Will my eyes
Be closed or open?
