This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
Paid up, weathered and type O,
Clad in gladstone watch him go [wash and go???],
Swimming 'neath the microscope.
Hello lonely bless the nation.
Mr. Skip to all or none,
Wooden [wouldn't???] soldiers fall upon,
Try to find what makes her tick,
While they're finding out what makes them sick.
I don't know where you find your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Been around and left you flat,
Tragically decided that,
Every child of God's a brat,
And she's dying to escape them.
But do we really need to see
All her punchdrunk history,
And which of it might hold the key
For the exit to her destiny.
I don't know where you get your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
I don't know where you find your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Number one in all our souls,
Trifle in the crystal bowl,
Fill it up with 9 to 5,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Clad in gladstone watch him go [wash and go???],
Swimming 'neath the microscope.
Hello lonely bless the nation.
Mr. Skip to all or none,
Wooden [wouldn't???] soldiers fall upon,
Try to find what makes her tick,
While they're finding out what makes them sick.
I don't know where you find your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Been around and left you flat,
Tragically decided that,
Every child of God's a brat,
And she's dying to escape them.
But do we really need to see
All her punchdrunk history,
And which of it might hold the key
For the exit to her destiny.
I don't know where you get your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
I don't know where you find your nerve,
I don't know how you choose your words,
Speak the ones that suit you worse,
Keep you grounded, sad and cursed,
Circle the ones that come alive,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Number one in all our souls,
Trifle in the crystal bowl,
Fill it up with 9 to 5,
Save them for the best of Jill Hives.
Lyrics submitted by CrookedRain, edited by cioran
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what gives i totally commented on this song a long time ago lol....?