歌曲 | New York Nights |
歌手 | Recoil |
专辑 | Liquid (Bonus Tracks) |
Mind numbing, mentally crushing, | |
Membrane sloshing noise. | |
Manhattan rumbled through night | |
And I never knew that. | |
Had suspected, had read it on t–shirts: | |
“The city that never sleeps.” | |
But didn't need to believe it. | |
The onliest sound I believed | |
Was the train pulling out, | |
Heard from ‘bout 6 blocks away. | |
That was an all night sound. | |
Smooth, not chatter. | |
The noise was too noisy. | |
I mean noisier | |
Than noise had to be. | |
Noisier than the splash sound | |
Of the shore upon the roar of a 757 | |
Taking the summer route. | |
Upon mom vex | |
Cause little kids don't listen. | |
Noise bigger | |
Than blockbuster videos | |
Playing in the next room | |
At the 4am matinee and the phone... | |
That was just noise. | |
I mean noisier | |
Than noise should be. | |
Not ear deafening, mind numbing, | |
Mentally crushing, | |
Membrane sloshing noise. | |
Keithie and his boys walked | |
And talked | |
Shit nights | |
But it was always distinct, | |
Not chatter.... | |
'N' jersey girls | |
Didn't giggle at the freaks, | |
'Talianos sucking Corona bottles | |
Making crashes fill the street, | |
Never plugged the | |
Void of my nights | |
Because the void was silence. | |
Over in Bushwick, | |
The ice cream man pulled his truck | |
Over while, shall we say, | |
He got his popsicle sucked. | |
He pulled over his truck | |
But the song kept on, | |
All day, all night. | |
The song means | |
The ice cream guy’s | |
Gettin' some | |
- It don’t even mean ice cream. | |
Cause they hear the song | |
And there’s no guy selling ice cream | |
From the truck. | |
'Sides, who got money | |
To be giving kids | |
Every time they hear the song woven | |
Between the sounds of car horns | |
And latin rhythms. | |
And the ice cream guy | |
Gets death threats. | |
Gotta get me a token, | |
Make the rumble of the ‘A’ | |
My lullaby. | |
Gotta escape to the womb of my room. | |
I never believed in New York nights. | |
I never slept in Manhattan before. | |
21 years,16 by the shore. | |
It may have taken a while to get used | |
To the silence, | |
The absence of sound through night | |
At my home | |
But I’ve never slept in Manhattan before. | |
It hurts. | |
It is hurting my head as I write this. | |
It is making my mind squeeze itself | |
Through a tiny doorway | |
Onto a massive stage | |
Where sound is disconnected | |
From action. | |
Each render themselves tiles | |
In the mosaic. | |
Pretty is the picture from far away. | |
Gotta get me a token, | |
Make the rumble of the ‘A’ | |
My lullaby. | |
Gotta escape to the womb of my room. | |
I never believed in New York nights. | |
Each tone drifts against | |
The next with nowhere | |
It would rather be. | |
No desire of dominance, | |
No call to signify nothing. | |
Gotta get me a token, | |
Make the rumble of the ‘A’ | |
My lullaby. | |
Gotta escape to the womb of my room. | |
I never believed in New York nights. |
Mind numbing, mentally crushing, | |
Membrane sloshing noise. | |
Manhattan rumbled through night | |
And I never knew that. | |
Had suspected, had read it on t shirts: | |
" The city that never sleeps." | |
But didn' t need to believe it. | |
The onliest sound I believed | |
Was the train pulling out, | |
Heard from ' bout 6 blocks away. | |
That was an all night sound. | |
Smooth, not chatter. | |
The noise was too noisy. | |
I mean noisier | |
Than noise had to be. | |
Noisier than the splash sound | |
Of the shore upon the roar of a 757 | |
Taking the summer route. | |
Upon mom vex | |
Cause little kids don' t listen. | |
Noise bigger | |
Than blockbuster videos | |
Playing in the next room | |
At the 4am matinee and the phone... | |
That was just noise. | |
I mean noisier | |
Than noise should be. | |
Not ear deafening, mind numbing, | |
Mentally crushing, | |
Membrane sloshing noise. | |
Keithie and his boys walked | |
And talked | |
Shit nights | |
But it was always distinct, | |
Not chatter.... | |
' N' jersey girls | |
Didn' t giggle at the freaks, | |
' Talianos sucking Corona bottles | |
Making crashes fill the street, | |
Never plugged the | |
Void of my nights | |
Because the void was silence. | |
Over in Bushwick, | |
The ice cream man pulled his truck | |
Over while, shall we say, | |
He got his popsicle sucked. | |
He pulled over his truck | |
But the song kept on, | |
All day, all night. | |
The song means | |
The ice cream guy' s | |
Gettin' some | |
It don' t even mean ice cream. | |
Cause they hear the song | |
And there' s no guy selling ice cream | |
From the truck. | |
' Sides, who got money | |
To be giving kids | |
Every time they hear the song woven | |
Between the sounds of car horns | |
And latin rhythms. | |
And the ice cream guy | |
Gets death threats. | |
Gotta get me a token, | |
Make the rumble of the ' A' | |
My lullaby. | |
Gotta escape to the womb of my room. | |
I never believed in New York nights. | |
I never slept in Manhattan before. | |
21 years, 16 by the shore. | |
It may have taken a while to get used | |
To the silence, | |
The absence of sound through night | |
At my home | |
But I' ve never slept in Manhattan before. | |
It hurts. | |
It is hurting my head as I write this. | |
It is making my mind squeeze itself | |
Through a tiny doorway | |
Onto a massive stage | |
Where sound is disconnected | |
From action. | |
Each render themselves tiles | |
In the mosaic. | |
Pretty is the picture from far away. | |
Gotta get me a token, | |
Make the rumble of the ' A' | |
My lullaby. | |
Gotta escape to the womb of my room. | |
I never believed in New York nights. | |
Each tone drifts against | |
The next with nowhere | |
It would rather be. | |
No desire of dominance, | |
No call to signify nothing. | |
Gotta get me a token, | |
Make the rumble of the ' A' | |
My lullaby. | |
Gotta escape to the womb of my room. | |
I never believed in New York nights. |