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The Hot Garden Stomp Lyrics

the moon was unbearably high.
flowering plant that hung from the radiator pipe.
it was dripping sweat from its rapidly fading petals.
and to the humming world in which I was living,

a crescendoing stepping sound came in.
heard you stepping over three weeks' worth of newspapers
piled up outside the door.

I hear you knocking.
come in.
turn on the radio.
turn up the volume.

you sat down in the same place where you used to sit.
it brought back a memory or two.
I may not know much any more, but I remember you.

you were quiet for a while, and that was nice.
then you came along with your questions,
always questions.
I don't have any answers to those particular questions.

I hear you talking.
shut up!
turn on the radio.
turn up the volume.
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Cover art for The Hot Garden Stomp lyrics by Mountain Goats, The

Since no one has commented on this one, I feel that I should. Buried beneath one of the most lo-fi of the early TMG recordings is a great song with some very powerful lines. The narrator has walled himself away from the outside world, possibly both physically and metaphorically (via drugs or just a a mental state that makes the world hum). His world is invaded by a friend or other person who comes to check on him - '3 weeks of newspapers' tells you how long its been. The narrator doesn't mind the visit, but wants no interaction at all. And uses music to avoid conversation/interrogation.

The specific line "I have no answers to those particular questions" has been very useful to me more than once.

 
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