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lyrics

So fuck you, fuck you.
I’ve got a lot to do:
glue the soles back on my shoes,
--I have to take care of you.
I’m so tired of the idiots,
who don’t get what we do,
so I’m giving up on this;
I’m giving up on you.

When we first came together
we were waiting in line,
we were in the long line,
we were in the wrong line.
We were waiting and pining,
being inappropriately kind.
Now I’m the porcupine,
peeling bark all the time.

All our lives we’ve been dipping our toes
in this pool; it’s not cold.
We’ve been fashioning with unsharpened tools,
--our kit’s getting old.
Sometimes it’s better to just
do what you’re told.
So here comes the gold,
here comes the solid gold.
It’s something new, something old.
Thirty-two karat gold.
Something sweet, something bold;
pure fucking gold.
Something pandering and something bold.
Pure gold!

So it’s true, it’s true:
you’ve got to work for what you do.
But I’m tired of working so hard,
and for so little food.
So I’m giving up on this;
I give up on you.
And I’ll start to construct
my golden suit!

So here comes the gold,
here comes the solid gold.
Something new, something old.
Thirty-two karat gold.
It’s something sweet and something bold.
Pure fucking gold.
Something pandering and yet bold.
Pure gold!

Over and over our story has been told.
We’ve gone through the good stuff
now that’s not our goal.
I’m ready to be typecast,
I can play that fucking role.
I’m going for the gold,
get ready to be cajoled.
No more lumps of coal.
We’re going for the gold.
We’re tired of living here
in the dark and the cold.
Let’s bring forth the gold;
dig up the gold!

Now I’m feeling fucking wise;
got my burger, got my fries.
I got my take on the first try.
When you love me, don’t ask why.
Now I’m looking sharp;
I got a twinkle in my eye.
I’m a really nice guy,
and I just want to fly.
Now I’m the whole package;
I’m a box with a bow.
I’m a dark desperation
with a little bit of soul.
I’m yours for the taking,
I’m ready to go.
I’m ready to go.
I’m ready for the gold!

What’s wrong with stagnation?
So we’ll grow a little mould.
We don’t want to get old.
You cannot buy us, we’re sold.
It’s an untreated pool
but the tadpole makes the toad.
The tadpole makes the toad!
We were happy to just fly low,
just happy to be off the ground.
But we could still smell the cattle;
we could still see the little towns.
Now we want to smell sweet
and leave trails of fragrant air.

Here comes the gold!
Here comes the solid gold!
Something new, something old.
Thirty-two karat gold!
Something special, something bold.
Pure fucking gold!
Something sweet and something bold-
pure, pure gold!
Here comes the gold.
Bright and buffed-up solid gold!
Fine ornamental gold.
Priceless precious, precious gold!
Whole pallets of loose gold!
Ancient caverns of jewels and gold!
Bursting trunks of precious golds!
Here comes the gold!
Pure, pure fucking gold!

credits

from MUTATIS MUTANDIS, released August 1, 2010

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Construction & Destruction Port Greville, Nova Scotia

Spook rock book roll, emanating from the Atlantic littoral..

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