Canceled Check
i hate to do this
but you're a pain in the neck
i thought you knew this
you're handing me a canceled check
you're so helpless
your girlfriends think you're a saint
i'll give you a quarter
i'll keep my judgements to myself

and i get caught up
in the moonlight
reaching out for a rotten egg
i don't want to beg
it's crystal clear
your time is nearly gone

count your blessings
and do the things that you should
o the has-beens
that never had it so good
stormy weather
the kids are making a racket
in the wilderness
the wild lives are so mild

and i get caught up
in the moonlight
reaching out for a rotten egg
i don't wanna beg
it's crystal clear your time is nearly gone

and i get caught up
in the moonlight
reaching out for a rotten egg
i don't wanna beg
it's crystal clear your time is nearly gone...

Clock
has it come and gone? is it long before the spirit shaves his legs?
is it wrapped in trash, sent back to a sanitation tank?
is it disinfected, disconnected 'til it grafts some wires?
is it sped up, spun around, brown and yellow in the fires?

what is this town? they said I got no place to be
the money meter's taking everything I see

is it comes in lovely bones that put their shirts on ice?
is it fireflies that cross out eyes with any spice?
is it normal, born-again? let the vultures drink and drown
is it's force from weathers, birds of feathers never found?

what is this town? they said I got no place to be
the money meter's taking everything I see

has it come and gone? is it long before the spirit shaves his legs?
what is this town? they said I got no place to be
the money need is taking everything I see

Cold Brains
Cold Brains,
Unmoved,
Untouched,
Unglued
Alone at last
no thoughts,
no mind
to rot
behind
a trail of disasters

a final the curse
abandoned hearse
we ride disowned
corroded to the bone

the fields of green
are bent, obscene
i lay upon the gravel
a worm of hope
a hangman's rope
pulls me one way or the other

a final curse
abandoned hearse
we write this song
corroded to the bone

a bird of song
is heard no longer
in the evacuated heavens
the drain is drawn
and drained and gone
and on and on, it doesn't matter

a final the curse
abandoned hearst
we rock the salt
corroded to the bone

Computer Girls
NOTES: Instrumental song engineered by Mickey P. The only "lyric" is one sample repeated throughout the song.

After school, Professor asked if she could see my new Computer GIRLS!
After school, Professor asked if she could see my new Computer GIRLS!

Corvette Bummer
all my days I had moldy bread,
robot brains and the flyin airplanes,
hollowed out and filled with dust,
rockin like a hurricane, under the rug,
bored to the core, on a sunken boat,
a worn out candle and a plastic coat,
a ziploc bag, a pelican bone,
a perfect shape, a cardboard reject
overfed, electric comatose,
riding in the air, invisible socks
a broken blanket, flamin sawdust
wakin up in the shadow of a piece of dirt,

gonna fly like a dog,
gonna leap right out the wall,
gonna walk around this town with a can of whiskey
gonna run like a bird,
gonna roll out in the dirt,
gonna run around this town with a phone machine

yellow cat layin flat on the road,
molten lead shootin out the ground,
tinfoil witch burnin under the bridge,
flap your wings and leap out the window,
put a glass eye in the eyes of god,
nuke the kids,
Polaroid cupcake,
take it to the limit, new wave biscuit,
camouflage gimmick, wimp out like never before

gonna jump like a flag,
gonna burn like a pig,
gonna flap around, and pass out on the kitchen floor,
gonna crawl like a rock,
gonna dance like a worm,
gonna take my shoes right off and smell my socks.

Fly like a squirrel,
swim like a chicken,
gonna weedwack a plate of noodles in the afternoon,
gonna melt like a weasel,
gonna fry like a kid,
gonna get my walkie talkie, and some mustard and some mayonnaise, and a mermaid, and some macaroni,
bricks, and some telephone wires, and phone machines, and a fax machine, and a...(laughing)

Crystal Clear (beer)
plastic donut, can of spam
there's no kindness in this land

but you better not let my good girl catch you here
she's getting all juiced up on a bottle of plain glass beer

coffee clothing pasted on
clean my gravestone when i'm gone

and you better not let my good girl catch you here
she's got a whole pile of things you don't want to hear

hitch my horse up to the town
got my toenails painted brown

and you better not let my good girl catch you here
she'll cut you down and put the blame on me

just a muscle in a bag
throw my baby don't let her sag

but you better not let my good girl catch you here
she's getting all juiced up with a bottle of plain wrap beer

Curses
NOTES: Unrecorded song Beck performed on his 1995 appearance on KCRW's "Morning Becomes Eclectic".
Curses I send
On these countless men
Curses on their trespasses
Will they never end?
Curses on their blades
On the spare and open lanes
Once I've been searching
Recipe acclaim (??)
Curses on their children
Runnin' all around
Makin' such a business
While I'm rusting in the ground
I might rise up to meet them
When they leave this life
Might rise up to eat them
When they leave this life

Curses on this valley
And the lands on up ahead
I was on my way to meet them
When they found me dead
And I clapped my brittle hands
And I made them join my game
Now I hope they all decease
And marry a man in shame

Curse every word
That's planted on their lips
Curse the sleek machine
And their iron colored ships
Curse every wave that
Pounds a wicked shore
Curse every salesman
Knocking on their door

And I am not a creature
And I am not a dog
I have no claim to be there
In the evening fog
And I am not a bone
Staring through the air
Have no say in anything
My tongue is barely there

Curses on curses
I see no other way
Some of them are weeping
And some of them gay
Some of them have worn
So deep they feel no pain
Curses on their fingers
Curses on their brains

Cut ½ Blues
I thought I heard a chainsaw
rather late last night
I woke this mornin' and I knew I was right
I got the cut-in-half blues

well the last thing I saw was the big long saw
I got the cut-in-half blues

I knew we were in trouble
I knew she lost her head
when she started bringin' all those power tools to bed
I got the cut-in-half blues

well the last thing I saw was the big long saw
I got the cut-in-half blues

I'm layin' in my grave
all I do is grunt
cause the undertaker got all mixed up
and put my ass in the front
I got the cut-in-half blues

well the last thing I saw was the big long saw
I got the cut-in-half blues (achoo!)

Cyanide Breathmint
Definitely this is the wrong place to be
There's blood on the futon
There's a kid drinking fire
Going down to the sea
They got people to meet
Shaking hands with themselves
Looking out for themselves
When they ask you for credit
Give them a branch
When they want you to get it
Chew on the grass
I know I know 'cause they told me to tell you
There's nothing to sell you
In the afternoon
Riding the scapegoat
Burning equipment
Decomposing
Cool off your jets
Take off your sweats
I got a funny feeling they got plastic in the afterlife
When they want you to cry
Leap into the sky
When they suck your mind
Like a pigeon you'll fly
I know I know
It's the positive people
Running from their time
Looking for some feeling