Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Brompton Oratory

Up those stone steps I climb Hail this joyful day’s return Into its great shadowed vault I go Hail the Pentecostal morn The reading is from Luke 24 Where Christ returns to his loved ones I look at the stone apostles Think that it’s alright for some And I wish that I was made of

Idiot Prayer

They’re taking me down, my friend And as they usher me off to my end Will I bid you adieu? Or will I be seeing you soon? If what they say around here is true Then we’ll meet again Me and you My time is at hand, my dove They’re gonna pass me to that

Green Eyes

Kiss me again, rekiss me and kiss me Slip your frigid hands beneath my shirt This useless old fucker with his twinkling cunt Doesn’t care if he gets hurt Green eyes, Green eyes Green eyes, Green eyes If it were but a matter of faith If it were measured in petitions and prayer She would

Into My Arms

I don’t believe in an interventionist God But I know, darling, that you do But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him Not to intervene when it came to you Not to touch a hair on your head To leave you as you are And if He felt He had to direct

Black Hair

Last night my kisses were banked in black hair And in my bed, my lover, her hair was midnight black And all her mystery dwelled within her black hair And her black hair framed a happy heart-shaped face And heavy-hooded eyes inside her black hair Shined at me frome the depths of her hair of

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