Zoo-music girl zoo-music girl
Our life together is a hollow tooth
Spit out the shells, spit out the shells
You know exactly what i'm talking about
Don't drag the orchestra into this thing
Rattle those sticks, rattle those sticks
The sound is beautiful, it's perfect!
The sound of her young legs in stockings
The rhythm of her walk, it's beautiful
Just let it twist, let it break
Let it buckle, let it bend
I want to hear the noise of my
Zoo-music girl zoo-music girl
My body is a monster driven insane
My heart is a fish toasted by flames
I kiss the hem of her skirt
We spend our live in a box full of dirt
I murder her dress till it hurts
I murder her dress and she loves it
If there is one thing i desire in the world
Is to make love to my
Zoo-music girl zoo-music girl
The sound is beautiful! it's perfect!
I call out her name in the night
Zoo-music girl! zoo-music girl!
I call her by her family name
Zoo-music girl! zoo-music girl!
Oh! god! please let me die beneath her fists
Zoo-music girl! zoo-music girl!
Zoo-music girl! zoo-music girl!
The Birthday Party - Prayers on Fire Album Lyrics
The Birthday Party - Prayers on Fire Lyrics
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Cry
when ya walk outa here
when ya walk out
I gotta fill up that space
or fill up that no-space
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears and
cry cry cry cry
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can
cry cry cry cry
when ya slam that door
when that door slams
i gotta fill up that space
an' I'll pack my suitcase
I'll fill it up with no-clothes
fill it up with no-clothes
fill it up with no-clothes
fill it up with no-clothes
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll pack it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll pack it up with tears and cry cry cry cry
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can
cry cry cry cry
when ya slam that door
when that door slams
I'll dig my-self a hole
and I'll fill up that space
I'll fill it up with no-flesh
an' I'll fill it up with flesh
I'll fill it up with no-flesh
an' I'll fill it up with flesh
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll pack it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears and
cry cry cry cry
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can
cry cry cry cry
fish swim cry fish crryyy cry cryyy
when ya walk out
I gotta fill up that space
or fill up that no-space
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears and
cry cry cry cry
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can
cry cry cry cry
when ya slam that door
when that door slams
i gotta fill up that space
an' I'll pack my suitcase
I'll fill it up with no-clothes
fill it up with no-clothes
fill it up with no-clothes
fill it up with no-clothes
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll pack it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll pack it up with tears and cry cry cry cry
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can
cry cry cry cry
when ya slam that door
when that door slams
I'll dig my-self a hole
and I'll fill up that space
I'll fill it up with no-flesh
an' I'll fill it up with flesh
I'll fill it up with no-flesh
an' I'll fill it up with flesh
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll pack it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears
I'll fill it up with tears and
cry cry cry cry
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can swim
where no-fish can
cry cry cry cry
fish swim cry fish crryyy cry cryyy
Writer: REBECCA LYNN HOWARD
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, MUSIC SALES CORPORATION
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, MUSIC SALES CORPORATION
Capers
What has not got my heart in it shall we be dubbed sir names
Wither million blither tongues mounting bristling guilt frames
In the fake - ache of the gloomloom slippers slap me alive!
The hour hands down a miracle to spend with ugly types
So we can catch and thread a minstrel bleed a tower down to it's ankles
So we can't go up or stay up find the thumb dumb in your ear brain
Get unfunny! such as choirs do why the clocklock bought up this one
Just when things seemed so paperparrent like my toothface? like my out-do?
Capers... capers...
Oh a streak, o'treacly ink-inks tied my knees all up in elbows
Erase that lapsing smile tub lose the slip of the small soap-fellows
Account the addups till I do-nots are we balanced? we're in business!
Idle tidal, rush in, tried all with a limb's...all legs and armour
I had a dreadful diehood diehard, drunken, sunken, monk-heart
Oh I had a wonderful diehood thanks to my fa, fa, family
Wither million blither tongues mounting bristling guilt frames
In the fake - ache of the gloomloom slippers slap me alive!
The hour hands down a miracle to spend with ugly types
So we can catch and thread a minstrel bleed a tower down to it's ankles
So we can't go up or stay up find the thumb dumb in your ear brain
Get unfunny! such as choirs do why the clocklock bought up this one
Just when things seemed so paperparrent like my toothface? like my out-do?
Capers... capers...
Oh a streak, o'treacly ink-inks tied my knees all up in elbows
Erase that lapsing smile tub lose the slip of the small soap-fellows
Account the addups till I do-nots are we balanced? we're in business!
Idle tidal, rush in, tried all with a limb's...all legs and armour
I had a dreadful diehood diehard, drunken, sunken, monk-heart
Oh I had a wonderful diehood thanks to my fa, fa, family
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Nick The Stripper
Insect insect insect insect incest insect incest insect
Nick the stripper
A-hideous to the eye
A-hideous to the eye
Well he's a fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
And ooooooooh! here we go again
Nick the stripper
A-dances on all fours
A-dances on all fours
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
And ooooooooh! a-here we go again
Nick the stripper
A-hideous to the eye
A-hideous to the eye
Well he's a fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
And ooooooooh! here we go again
Well he's a fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
Insect insect insect insect
Nick the stripper
A-hideous to the eye
A-hideous to the eye
Well he's a fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
And ooooooooh! here we go again
Nick the stripper
A-dances on all fours
A-dances on all fours
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
And ooooooooh! a-here we go again
Nick the stripper
A-hideous to the eye
A-hideous to the eye
Well he's a fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
And ooooooooh! here we go again
Well he's a fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
A fat little insect
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
He's in his birthday suit
Insect insect insect insect
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Ho-ho
Worn and gnawn
A little hole
Just a small hole
Letting in a sick wind
In a small puffs
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Through which blow
A small sick wind
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Puff puff
The sick wind blows
Slipping stitches leading to
So slight a hole
Slipping in a sick wind
Slippery sickly wind
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Across the threshole
A little sick wind
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho
The sick wind blows
A little hole
Just a small hole
Letting in a sick wind
In a small puffs
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Through which blow
A small sick wind
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Puff puff
The sick wind blows
Slipping stitches leading to
So slight a hole
Slipping in a sick wind
Slippery sickly wind
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Across the threshole
A little sick wind
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho-hole
Yo-ho
The sick wind blows
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Figure Of Fun
Wow! uh oh
I am a figure of fun
Obsessive, dead-pan and moribund
[creantic girl] seasick
I am the figure of fun
[?] I baked in the sun
I have no luck in love
I have no luck in anything
I am a figure of fun
And I'm impressed by everyone
But I impress no-one
It's irritating
I am a figure of fun
ROCK!
I am a figure of fun
I have money
But money isn't everything to a figure of
Fun fun fun fun fun fun...
I love you baby fun fun fun
I am a figure of fun
Obsessive, dead-pan and moribund
[creantic girl] seasick
I am the figure of fun
[?] I baked in the sun
I have no luck in love
I have no luck in anything
I am a figure of fun
And I'm impressed by everyone
But I impress no-one
It's irritating
I am a figure of fun
ROCK!
I am a figure of fun
I have money
But money isn't everything to a figure of
Fun fun fun fun fun fun...
I love you baby fun fun fun
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
King Ink
King Ink strolls into town
He sniffs around
King Ink kicks off his stink-boot
Sand and soot and dust and dirt and
He's much bigger than you think
King Ink
King Ink
King Ink
A wake up a King Ink a get up a King Ink a wake up a King Ink
A get up a get up a get up a get up a get up
Up up up up up up up up up up...
A bug crawls up the wall
King Ink feels like a bug
And he hates his rotten shell
(he says) cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha...
King Ink a wake up a King Ink a get up a King Ink a wake up a King Ink
A get up a get up a get up a get up a get up
A what's in that room? a what's in that house?
A what's in that room? a what's in that house?
Say something, express thyself, say something, express yourself
Express... say something loudly Aaaaaahhhh...
A what's in that room? a what's in that house?
Sand and soot and dust and dirt and sand and soot and dust and dirt
And-d-d-d-d-d-d-
Di-di-di-di-di-di-di di-di-di-di-di-di DIRT
King Ink feels like a bug
Swimming in a soup-bowl
He says oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! FATS Domino on the radio
Yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! FATS Domino on the radio
Yer! oh! yer!
...
He sniffs around
King Ink kicks off his stink-boot
Sand and soot and dust and dirt and
He's much bigger than you think
King Ink
King Ink
King Ink
A wake up a King Ink a get up a King Ink a wake up a King Ink
A get up a get up a get up a get up a get up
Up up up up up up up up up up...
A bug crawls up the wall
King Ink feels like a bug
And he hates his rotten shell
(he says) cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha...
King Ink a wake up a King Ink a get up a King Ink a wake up a King Ink
A get up a get up a get up a get up a get up
A what's in that room? a what's in that house?
A what's in that room? a what's in that house?
Say something, express thyself, say something, express yourself
Express... say something loudly Aaaaaahhhh...
A what's in that room? a what's in that house?
Sand and soot and dust and dirt and sand and soot and dust and dirt
And-d-d-d-d-d-d-
Di-di-di-di-di-di-di di-di-di-di-di-di DIRT
King Ink feels like a bug
Swimming in a soup-bowl
He says oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! FATS Domino on the radio
Yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! what a wonderful life
Oh! yer! oh! yer! FATS Domino on the radio
Yer! oh! yer!
...
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
A Dead Song
This is true oh! this is true it's true
Mister forever said nothing said
I can sing
Hit it! make it a dead one
With words like with words like
Blood and soldier and mother
O.k. o.k.
I want to I wanna sleep before the end
Which is most impolite
Hit it! make it a dead one
If nothing crops up
I'll give you a ring
You can sing the end
O.k. o.k.
Then I could get
All the little animals out of my room
Hit it! with a broom, with a broom!
O.k. o.k. o.k. o.k.
Put them in a big white sack
No visitors came
Hit it! with words like...
Like hit it! like hit it! oh! yea...
Yea hit it... like like
Thou thou shalt not um like
Thou shalt not this is the end this
This really is the living end
This really is the living end
Like really this is the end and it's still living
Mister forever said nothing said
I can sing
Hit it! make it a dead one
With words like with words like
Blood and soldier and mother
O.k. o.k.
I want to I wanna sleep before the end
Which is most impolite
Hit it! make it a dead one
If nothing crops up
I'll give you a ring
You can sing the end
O.k. o.k.
Then I could get
All the little animals out of my room
Hit it! with a broom, with a broom!
O.k. o.k. o.k. o.k.
Put them in a big white sack
No visitors came
Hit it! with words like...
Like hit it! like hit it! oh! yea...
Yea hit it... like like
Thou thou shalt not um like
Thou shalt not this is the end this
This really is the living end
This really is the living end
Like really this is the end and it's still living
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Yard
In our yard
How many chickens can we count
On our fingers and toes
On their toes
Sitting on father's hole
Sitting on his chest
Crushing rocks of dirt
The earth is soft in our
Yard yard
Stones in my shoes
And feet
Dragging them through museums
Where
Under glass
Refridgerate
Freeze
Hands and feet
And knobbly knees
Yard yard
How many chickens can we count
On our fingers and toes
On their toes
Sitting on father's hole
Sitting on his chest
Crushing rocks of dirt
The earth is soft in our
Yard yard
Stones in my shoes
And feet
Dragging them through museums
Where
Under glass
Refridgerate
Freeze
Hands and feet
And knobbly knees
Yard yard
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Dull Day
The light from the window
Falls on the floor
And after it breaks
I cut my feet
On the little bright pieces
(I glow in the dark)
But only when night falls
It's falling it's falling
It's falling it's falling
It falls
My head is a night-club
Club-clubbed to dull drums
Beating to slow
To dance or to breathe or to dance
I insist that you cut in
(I a la flamb?
I'm drinking I'm drinking
I'm drinking I'm drinking
I'm drunk
Dull day
Falls on the floor
And after it breaks
I cut my feet
On the little bright pieces
(I glow in the dark)
But only when night falls
It's falling it's falling
It's falling it's falling
It falls
My head is a night-club
Club-clubbed to dull drums
Beating to slow
To dance or to breathe or to dance
I insist that you cut in
(I a la flamb?
I'm drinking I'm drinking
I'm drinking I'm drinking
I'm drunk
Dull day
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Just You and Me
First: I tried to kill it with a hammer
Thought that I could lose
The head
Sure! we've eaten off the silver
(when even food was against us)
And then I tried to kill it in the bed
Second: I gagged it with a pillow
But awoke the nuns inside
My head
They pounded their goddy-goddy fists
(from the inside - so from the outside)
I got good: I stuck it. dead
Thirdly: I put my lips upon it
And blew a frost across
Its flat
I wrote upon it's outside-surface
Tonite we're on the outside-surface
Just you and me girl: you and me and the fat
Thought that I could lose
The head
Sure! we've eaten off the silver
(when even food was against us)
And then I tried to kill it in the bed
Second: I gagged it with a pillow
But awoke the nuns inside
My head
They pounded their goddy-goddy fists
(from the inside - so from the outside)
I got good: I stuck it. dead
Thirdly: I put my lips upon it
And blew a frost across
Its flat
I wrote upon it's outside-surface
Tonite we're on the outside-surface
Just you and me girl: you and me and the fat
Writer: Michael Harvey, Nicholas Cave
Copyright: Lyrics © MUSIC SALES CORPORATION
Copyright: Lyrics © MUSIC SALES CORPORATION
Prayers on Fire is the debut studio album by Australian rock group the Birthday Party, released on 6 April 1981 on the Missing Link label in Australia, later licensed to the 4AD label. This was the band's first full-length release on an international record label and the first after changing the group's name from the Boys Next Door to the Birthday Party.
It was recorded at Armstrong's Audio Visual Studios in Melbourne and Richmond Recorders in the nearby suburb of Richmond, between December 1980 and January 1981.
Performed By:
The Birthday PartyIt was recorded at Armstrong's Audio Visual Studios in Melbourne and Richmond Recorders in the nearby suburb of Richmond, between December 1980 and January 1981.
Genre(s): Post-punk
Producer(s): Tony Cohen, the Birthday Party
Released: April 6th, 1981
Year: 1981