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The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway: disc 1

Genesis

℗ 1974  LP1

℗ 1974 Charisma Records CGS 101: The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway

℗ 1974 ATCO Records SD 2401: The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway

℗ 1974  LP2: disc 2

Genesis • 1974 • The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway: disc 1

«The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway» — äâîéíîé êîíöåïòóàëüíûé àëüáîì áðèòàíñêîé ïðîãðîê-ãðóïïû Genesis. Ýòî øåñòîé èõ ñòóäèéíûé àëüáîì, ïîñëåäíèé, çàïèñàííûé ñ ó÷àñòèåì îñíîâíîãî âîêàëèñòà Ïèòåðà Ãýáðèýëà.

Òåêñòû è âèäåî:

The Lamb Lies down on Broadway

Early morning Manhattan,
Ocean winds blow on the land.
The Movie-Palace is now undone,
The all-night watchmen have had their fun.
Sleeping cheaply on the midnight show,
It's the same old ending-time to go.
Get out!
It seems they cannot leave their dream.
There's something moving in the sidewalk steam,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.

Nightime's flyers feel their pains.
Drugstore takes down the chains.
Metal motion comes in bursts,
But the gas station can quench that thirst.
Suspension cracked on unmade road
The trucker's eyes read 'Overload'
And out on the subway,
Rael Imperial Aerosol Kid
Exits into daylight, spraygun hid,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.

The lamb seems right out of place,
Yet the Broadway street sceng finds a focus in its face.
Somehow it's lying there,
Brings a stillness to the air.
Though man-made light, at night is very bright,
There's no whitewash victim,
As the neons dim, to the coat of white.
Rael Imperial Aerosol Kid,
Wipes his gun-he's forgotten what he did,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.

Suzanne tired her work all done,
Thinks money-honey-be on-neon.
Cabman's velvet glove sounds the horn
And the sawdust king spits out his scorn.
Wonder women draw your blind!
Don't look at me! I'm not your kind.
I'm Rael!
Something inside me has just begun,
Lord knows what I have done,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.
On Broadway-
They say the lights are always bright on Broadway.
They say there's always magic in the air.

Fly on a Windshield

There's something solid forming in the air,
The wall of death is lowered in Times Square.
No-one seems to care,
They carry on as if nothing was there.
The wind is blowing harder now,
Blowing dust into my eyes.
The dust settles on my skin,
Making a crust I cannot move in
And I'm hovering like a fly, waiting for the windshield on the freeway.

Broadway Melody of 1974

Echoes of the Broadway Everglades,
With her mythical madonnas still walking in their shades:
Lenny Bruce, declares a truce and plays his other hand.
Marshall McLuhan, casual viewin', head buried in the sand.
Sirens on the rooftops wailing, but there's no ship sailing.
Groucho, with his movies trailing, stands alone with his punchline failing.
Klu Klux Klan serve hot soul food and the band  plays 'In the Mood'
The cheerleader waves her cyanide wand, there's a smell of
Peach blossom and bitter almonde.
Caryl Chessman sniffs the air and leads the parade, he know in a scent,
You can bottle all you made.
There's Howard Hughes in blue suede shoes, smiling at the majorettes
Smoking Winston Cigarettes.
And as the song and dance begins, the children play at home
With needles; needles and pins.

Cuckoo Cocoon

Wrapped up in some powdered wool — I guess I'm losing touch.
Don't tell me I'm dying, 'cos I ain't changed that much.
The only sound is water drops, I wonder where the hell I am,
Some kind of jam?
Cuckoo Cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?

There's nothing I can recognise; this is nowhere that I've known.
With no sign of life at all, I guess that I'm alone,
And I feel so secure that I know this can't be real but I feel good.
Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?

I wonder if I'm a prisoner locked up in some Brooklyn jail
— Or some sort of Jonah shut up inside the whale.
No — I'm still Rael and I'm stuck in some kind of cave,
What could've saved me?
Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?

In the Cage

There's sunshine in my stomach
Like I just rocked my baby to sleep.
There's sunshine in my stomach
And I can't keep me from creeping sleep,
Sleep, deep in the deep.

Rockface moves to press my skin
White liquids turn sour within
Turn fast-turn sour
Turn sweat-turn sour.
Must tell myself that I'm not here.
I'm drowning in a liquid fear.
Bottled in a strong compression,
My distortion shows obsession
In the cave.
Get me out of this cave!

If I keep my self-control,
I'll be safe in my soul.
And the childhood belief
Brings a moment's relief,
But my cynic soon returns
And the lifeboat burns.
My spirit just never learns.

Stalactites, stalagmites
Shut me in, lock me tight.
Lips are dry, throat is dry.
Feel like burning, stomach churning,
I'm dressed up in a white costume
Padding out leftover room.
Body stretching, feel the retching
In the cage
Get me out of this cage!

In the glare of a light,
I see a strange kind of sight;
Of cages joined to form a star
Each person can't go very far;
All tied to their things
They are netted by their strings,
Free to flutter in memories of their wasted wings.

Outside the cage I see my Brother John,
He turns his head so slowly round.
I cry out help! before he can be gone,
And he looks at me without a sound.
And I shout 'John please help me!'
But he does not even want to try to speak.
I'm helpless in my violent rage
And a silent tear of blood dribbles down his cheek,
And I watch him turn away and leave the cage.
My little runaway.

In a trap, feel a strap
Holding still. Pinned for kill.
Chances narrow that I'll make it,
In the cushioned straight-jacket.
Just like 22nd Street,
When they got me by my neck and feet.
Pressures building, can't take any more.
My headaches charge. My earaches roar.
In the pain
Get me out of this pain.

If I could change to liquid,
I could fill the cracks up in the rock.
But I know that I am solid
And I am my own bad luck.
But outside John disappears and my cage dissolves,
And without any reason my body revolves.

Keep on turning,
Keep on turning,
Turning around,
Spinning around.

The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging

"The last great adventure left to mankind"
— Screams a drooping lady
Offering her dreamdolls at less than extortionate prices,
And as the notes and coins are taken out
I'm taken in, to the factory floor.

For the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— All ready to use
The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— Just need a fuse.

Got people stocked in every shade,
Must be doing well with trade.
Stamped, addressed, in odd fatality.
That evens out their personality.
With profit potential marked by a sign,
I can recognise some of the production line,
No bite at all in labour bondage,
Just wrinkled wrappers or human bandage.

The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— All ready to use
It's the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— Just need a fuse.

The hall runs like clockwork
Their hands mark out the time,
Empty in their fullness
Like a frozen pantomime.
Everyone's a sales representative
Wearing slogans in their shrine.
Dishing out failsafe superlative,
Brother John is No. 9.

For the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— All ready to use
It's the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— Just need a fuse.

The decor on the ceiling
Has planned out their future day
I see no sign of free will,
So I guess I'll have to pay,
Pay my way,

For the Grand Parade.

For the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— All ready to use
The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
— Just need a fuse.

Back in N.Y.C.

I see faces and traces of home back in New York City —
So you think I'm a tough kid? Is that what you heard?
Well I like to see some action and it gets into my blood.
The call me the trail blazer-Rael-electric razor.
I'm the pitcher in the chain gang, we don't believe in pain
'Cos we're only as strong, as the weakest link in the chain.
Let me out of Pontiac when I was just seventeen,
I had to get it out of me, if you know what I mean, what I mean.

You say I must be crazy, 'cos KI don't care who I hit, who I hit.
But I know it's me that's hitting out and I'm not full of shit.
I don't care who I hurt, I don't care who I do wrong.
This is your mess I'm stuck in, I really don't belong.
When I take out my bottle, filled up high with gasoline,
You can tell by the night fires where Rael has been, has been.

As I cuddled the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair,
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!
Off we go.

You're sitting in your comfort you don't believe I'm real,
You cannot buy protection from the way that I feel.
Your progressive hypocrites hand out their trash,
But it was mine in the first place, so I'll burn it to ash.
And I've tasted all the strongest meats,
And laid them down in coloured sheets.
Who needs illusion of love and affection
When you're out walking the streets with your mainline connection? connection.

As I cuddle the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair.
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!

Counting Out Time

I'm counting out time,
Got the whole thing down by numbers.
All those numbers!
Give my guidance!
O Lord I need that now.

The day of judgement's come,
And you can bet that I've been resting,
For this testing,
Digesting every word the experts say.
Erogenous zones I love you.
Without you, what would a poor boy do?

Found a girl I wanted to date,
Thought I'd better get it straight.
Went to buy a book before it's too late.
Don't leave nothing to fate.
And I have studied every line, every page in the book,
And now I've got the real thing here, I'm gonna take a look, take a look.

This is Rael!

I'm counting out time, hoping it goes like I planned it,
'Cos I understand it. Look! I've found the hotspots, Figs 1-9.
Still counting out time, got my finger on the button,
"Don't say nuttin — just lie there still
And I'll get you turned on just fine."
Erongenous zones I love you.
Without you, what would a poor boy do?

Touch and go with 1-6.
Bit of trouble in zone No. 7.
Gotta remember all of my tricks.
There's heaven ahead in No. 11!
Getting crucial responses with dilation of the pupils.
"Honey get hip! It's time to unzip, to unzip. Whipee!"
Move over Casanova

I'm counting out time, reaction none to happy,
Please don't slap me,
I'm a red blooded male and the book said I could not fail.
I'm counting out time, I got unexpected distress from my mistress,
I'll get my money back from the bookstore right away.
Erongenous zones I question you-
Without you, what would a poor boy do?
Without you, mankind handkinds thru' the blues.

The Carpet Crawlers

There is lambswool under my naked feet.
The wool is soft and warm,
— Gives off some kind of heat.
A salamander scurries into flame to be destroyed.
Imaginary creatures are trapped in birth on celluloid.
The fleas cling to the golden fleece,
Hoping they'll find peace.
Each thought and gesture are caught in celluloid.
There's no hiding in my memory.
There's no room to void.

The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor.
For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before.
They're moving. They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door,
Where the needle's eye is winking, closing in on the poor.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."

There's only one direction in the faces that I see;
It's upward to the ceiling, where the chambers said to be.
Like the forest fight for sunlight, that takes root in every tree.
They are pulled up by the magnet, believing that they're free.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."

Mild mannered supermen are held in kryptonite,
And the wise and foolish virgins giggle with their bodies glowing bright.
Through a door a harvest feast is lit by candlight;
It's the bottom of a staircase that spirals out of sight.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."

The porcelain mannikin with shattered skin fears attack.
The eager pack lift up their pitchers- the carry all they lack.
The liquid has congealed, which has seeped out through the crack,
And the tickler takes his stickleback.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."

The Chamber of 32 Doors

At the top of the stairs, theirs hundreds of people,
Running around to all the doors.
They try to find themselves an audience;
Their deductions need applause.

The rich man stands in front of me,
The poor man behind my back.
They believe they can control the game,
But the juggler holds another pack.

I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.

I'd rather trust a countryman than a townman,
You can judge by his eyes, take a look if you can,
He'll smile through his guard,
Survival trains hard.
I'd rather trust a man who works with his hands,
He looks at you once, you know he understands,
Don't need any shield,
When you're out in the field.

But down here,
I'm so alone with my fear,
With everything that I hear.
And every single door, that I've walked through
Brings me back here again,
I've got to find my own way.

The priest and the magician,
Singing all the chants that they have ever heard;
They're all calling out my name,
Even academics, searching printed word.

My father to the left of me,
My mother to the right,
Like everyone else they'er pointing
But nowhere feels quite right.

And I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.

I'd rather trust a man who doesn't shout what he's found,
There's no need to sell if you're homeward bound.
If I chose a side,
He won't take me for a ride.

Back inside
This chamber of so many doors;
I've nowhere to hide.
I'd give you all of my dreams, if you'd help me,
Find a door
That doesn't lead me back again
— Take me away.