The Black Rider ©1993 Island Records All selections by Tom Waits unless noted. Produced by Tom Waits Tracks Lucky Day Overture The Black Rider November Just the Right Bullets Black Box Theme T'ain't No Sin Flash Pan Hunter/Intro That's the Way The Briar and the Rose Russian Dance Gospel Train/Orchestra I'll Shoot the Moon Flash Pan Hunter Crossroads Gospel Train Interlude Oily Night Lucky Day The Last Rose of Summer Carnival

Lucky Day Overture Ladies and gentlemen Harry's Harbour Bizarre is proud to present Under the Big Top tonight Human Oddities That's right You'll see the Three Headed Baby You'll see Hitler's brain See Lea Graff the German midget who sat in J.F. Morgan's lap You'll see Priscilla Bajano The monkey woman Jo Jo the dog face boy I'm Milton Malone, the human skeleton See Grace McDaniel's The mule faced woman And she's the homeliest woman in the world Under the Big Top tonight Never before seen And if you have a heart condition, please be warned Don't forget to visit our snack bar at Charleston Grotto All sales are final Void where prohibited by law You'll see Sealo the seal boy who has flippers for arms You'll see Johnny Eck, the man born without a body He walks on his hands He has his own orchestra and is an excellent pianist See Gerd Bessler, the human pincusion And don't forget, it's ladies' night at Harvy's Harbour Bizarre You'll see Ko Ko the bird girl Mortando, the human fountain Step a little A little closer ladies and gentlemen and don't be shy Dig deep in your pockets You'll see Radion, the human torso Deep from the jungles of Africa Ladies and gentlemen, Harry's Harbour Bizarre Ladies and gentlemen The Black Rider Come on along with the Black Rider We'll have a gay old time Lay down in the web of the black spider I'll drink your blood like wine So come on in It ain't no sin Take off your skin And dance around your bones So come along with the Black Rider We'll have a gay old time Anchors away with the Black Rider I'll drink your blood like wine I'll drop you off in Harlem with the Black Rider Out where the bullets shine And when you're done You cock your gun The blood will run Like ribbons in your hair So come along wit hthe Black Rider We'll have a gay old time Come on along with the Black Rider I've got just the thing for thee Come on along with the Black Rider I want your company I'll have the veal A lovely meal That's how I feel May I use your skull for a bowl Come on along with the Black Rider We'll have a gay old time November No shadow No stars No moon No care November It only believes In a pile of dead leaves And a moon That's the color of bone No prayers for November To linger longer Stick your spoon in the wall We'll slaughter them all November has tied me To an old dead tree Get word to April To rescue me November's cold chain Made of wet boots and rain And shiny black ravens On chimney smoke lanes November seems odd You're my firing squad November With my hair slicked back With carrion shellac With the blood from a pheasant And the bone from a hare Tied to the branches Of a roebuck stag Left to wave in the timber Like a buck shot flag Go away you rainsnout Go away, blow your brains out November Just the Right Bullets There is a light in the forest There is a face in the tree I'll pull you out of the chorus And the first one's always free You can never go hunting With just a flintlock and a hound You won't go home with a bunting If you blow a hundred rounds It takes much more than wild courage Or you'll hit just the tattered clouds You must have just the right bullets And the first one's always free You must be careful in the forest Broken glass and rusty nails If you're to bring back something for us I have bullets for sale Why be a fool when you can chase away Your blind and your gloom I have blessed each one of these bullets And they shine just like a spoon To have sixty silver wishes Is a small price to pay They'll be your private little fishes And they'll never swim away I just want you to be happy That's my only wish I'll fix your wagon and your musket And the spoon will have his dish And I shudder at the thought of your Poor empty hunter's pouch So I'll keep the wind from your barrel And bless the roof of your house Black Box Theme [Instrumental] T'ain't No Sin (Walter Donaldson/Edgar Leslie) When you hear sweet syncopation And the music softly moans T'ain't no sin to take off your skin And dance around in your bones When it gets too hot for comfot And you can't get an ice cream cone T'ain't no sin to take off your skin And dance around your bones Just like those bamboo babies Down in the South Sea tropic zone T'ain't no sin to take off your skin And dance around your bones Flash Pan Hunter/Intro [Instrumental] That's the Way (Tom Waits/William Burroughs) That's the way the stomach rumbles That's the way the bee bumbles That's the way the needle pricks That's the way the glue sticks That's the way the potato mashes That's the way the pan flashes That's the way the market crashes That's the way the whip lashes That's the way the teeth knashes That's the way the gravy stains That's the way the moon wanes The Briar and the Rose I fell asleep down by the stream And there I had the strangest dream And down by Brennan's Glenn there grows A briar and a rose There's a tree in the forest But I don't know where I built a nest out of your hair And climbing up into the air A briar and a rose I don't know how long it has been But I was born in Brennan's Glenn And near the end of spring there grows A briar and a rose Picked the rose one early morn I pricked my finger on a thorn It had grown so high It's winding wove the briar around the rose I tried to tear them both apart I felt a bullet in my heart And all dressed up in springs and clothes The briar and the rose And when I'm buried in my grave Tell me so I will know Your tears will fall To make love grow The briar and the rose Russian Dance [Instrumental] Gospel Train/Orchestra [Instrumental] I'll Shoot the Moon I'll shoot the moon Right out of the sky For you baby I'll be the pennies On your eyes For you baby I want to take you Out to the fair Here's a red rose Ribbon for your hair I'll shoot the moon Right out of the sky For you baby I'll shoot the moon For you A vulture circles Over your head For you baby I'll be the flowers After you're dead For you baby I want to build A nest in your hair I want to kiss you And never be there I'll shoot the moon Right out of the sky For you baby I'll shoot the moon For you Flash Pan Hunter (Tom Waits/William Burroughs) The flash pan hunter sways with the wind His rifle is the sound of the morning Each sulfurous bullet way have it's own wit Each cartridge comes with a warning Beware of elaborate telescopic meats They will find their way back to the forest CHORUS For Wilhelm can't wait To be Peg Leg's crown As the briar is strangling The rose back down His back shall be my slender new branch It will sway and bend in the breeze As the devil does his polka Wit ha hatchet in his hand As a sniper in the branches of the trees As the vulture flutters down As the snake sheds his dove Wilhelm's cutting off his fingers So they'll fit into his glove Crossroads (Tom Waits/William Burroughs) Now, George was a good straight boy to begin with, but there was bad blood In him; someway he got into the magic bullets and that leads straight to Devil's work, just like marijuana leads to heroin; you think yo ucan take Them bullets or leave 'em, do you? Just save a few for your bad days Well, now, we all have those bad days when you can't shoot for shit. The more of them magics you use, the more bad days you have without them So it comes down finally to all your days being bad without the bullets It's magics or nothing Time to stop chippying around and kidding yourself, Kid, you're hooked, heavy as lead And that's where old George found himself Out there at the crossroads Molding the Devil's bullets Now a man figures it's his bullets, so it will Hit what he wants to hit But it don't always work that way You see, some bullets is special for a single aim A certain stag, or a certain person And no matter where you are, that's where the bullet will end up And in the moment of aiming, the gun turns into a dowser's wand And point where the bullet wants to go (George Schmid was moving in a series of convulsive spasms, like someone with an epileptic fit, with his face distorted and his eyes wild like a lassoed horse bracing his legs. But something kept pulling him on. And now he is picking up the skulls and making the circle.) I guess old George didn't rightly know what he's getting himself into The fit was on him and it carried him right to the crossroads Gospel Train Come on people Got to get on board Train is leavin' And there's room for one more God, don't listen to the devil He got ways to move you This train don't carry no smokers This train... Well, come on people 'Cause it's startin' to rain Get on board, it's the gospel train Don't listen to the devil Don't listen to the devil Satan will fool you Satan will fool you I said Satan will fool you Well, this train don't carry no smokers This train This train Wooo Wooo Come on people: get on board Train is leavin' ANd there's room for one more Just trust in the Lord Wooo Woooo Woooo Listen to me Come on people 'Cause it's starting to rain Get on board Ride the gospel train Don't listen to the devil He got ways to move you Interlude (Greg Cohen) [Instrumental] tracks Oily Night Oily night (repeated) Lucky Day The prettiest girl In all the world Is in a little Spanish town But I left her for a Bonnie lass And I told her I'd see her around But that Bonnie lass And her heart of glass Would not hold a candle To bumming around So don't cry for me For I'm going away And I'll be back some lucky day Tell the boys back home I'm doing just fine I left my troubles and woe So sing about me For I can't come home I've many more miles to go Why, there's Miss Kelsey You taught dance at our school And old Johnny O'Toole I'll still beat you at pool So don't cry for me For I'm going away And I'll be back some lucky day Now when I was a boy My daddy sat me on his knee And he told me He told me many things And he said sone There's a lot of things in this world You're gonna have no use for ANd when you get blue And you've lost all your dreams There's nothin' like a campfire And a can of beans Why, there's Miss Kelsey She taught dance at our school And old Johnny O'Toole I'll still beat you at pool So don't cry for me For I'm going away And I'll be back some lucky day The Last Rose of Summer I love the way The tattered clouds Go wind across the sky As summer goes And leave me With a tear in my eye I'm taking out my winter clothes My garden knows what's wrong The petals of my favorite rose Be in the shadows dark and long Through every year It's very clear I should be used To carrying on But I can't be found In the garden Singing this song When the last Rose of summer is gone Carnival [Instrumental]