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Elevator Music Lyrics
One, two, you know what to do!
Alright...
I'm uptight stupid, get it out of the flame.
I shake a leg on the ground like an epileptic battery man.
I'm making my move, lettin' loose like a belt.
Little worse for wear, but I'm wearing it well.
Tell me what's wrong with a little grind and bump
When the stereos erupt with a kick-drum punch?
Once you do it once, probably do it again and again.
You did it before, but you're more erratic then them.
And you had a rough night, and the vibe's just begun.
Let a little bit of this, the past week is done.
Don't let it hold you back, but you're already set.
No dead flowers gonna grow till the dirt gets wet.
Put the elevator music on.
Pull me back where I belong.
The ambulance sings along.
The fly on the wall
Doesn't know what's wrong.
If I could forget myself,
Find another lie to tell.
If I had a soul to sell,
I'd buy some time
To talk to my brain cells.
Gut bucket and a bottle of painns.
It's like the schoolhouse lights will never turn on again.
Till the bottom wears off of these high-heeled boots.
The bodies all move, some backbone roots.
Everybody workin' hard till the yard's all clean.
The dishes wash good in the washin' machine.
Now you brush your teeth and you comb back your hair.
You drive your vehicle like you just didn't care.
You're walkin' to work with the boys and the girls.
And you're doin' it to death, cause it's the end of the world.
Now everybody's sweatin', forgettin' what's on their minds.
With your hand like a mirror, you can see what's inside.
When you're down and out, poundin' and there's nothing that's real.
It's like a plastic heart, too amputated to feel.
I got a soda can bible song, paranoid jumbotron.
The lord took the weekend off.
The fly on the wall doesn't know what's wrong.
If I could forget myself, find another lie to tell.
The bottom of an oil well, cell phone's ringing
To talk to my brain cells.
Come on! What!?
All the dudes with banjos.
Chicks with the wigs.
Animals with bananas.
Got my hand like a mirror.
ah na na na na, na na na,
na na na, na na na na!
ah na na na na, na na na,
na na na...
I shake a leg on the ground like an epileptic battery man.
I'm making my move, lettin' loose like a belt.
Little worse for wear, but I'm wearing it well.
Tell me what's wrong with a little grind and bump
When the stereos erupt with a kick-drum punch?
Once you do it once, probably do it again and again.
You did it before, but you're more erratic then them.
And you had a rough night, and the vibe's just begun.
Let a little bit of this, the past week is done.
Don't let it hold you back, but you're already set.
No dead flowers gonna grow till the dirt gets wet.
Pull me back where I belong.
The ambulance sings along.
The fly on the wall
Doesn't know what's wrong.
If I could forget myself,
Find another lie to tell.
If I had a soul to sell,
I'd buy some time
To talk to my brain cells.
It's like the schoolhouse lights will never turn on again.
Till the bottom wears off of these high-heeled boots.
The bodies all move, some backbone roots.
Everybody workin' hard till the yard's all clean.
The dishes wash good in the washin' machine.
Now you brush your teeth and you comb back your hair.
You drive your vehicle like you just didn't care.
You're walkin' to work with the boys and the girls.
And you're doin' it to death, cause it's the end of the world.
Now everybody's sweatin', forgettin' what's on their minds.
With your hand like a mirror, you can see what's inside.
When you're down and out, poundin' and there's nothing that's real.
It's like a plastic heart, too amputated to feel.
The lord took the weekend off.
The fly on the wall doesn't know what's wrong.
If I could forget myself, find another lie to tell.
The bottom of an oil well, cell phone's ringing
To talk to my brain cells.
All the dudes with banjos.
Chicks with the wigs.
Animals with bananas.
Got my hand like a mirror.
na na na, na na na na!
na na na...
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for all those who say beck isn't as good nowadays... i give you this song and the album it's on! amazing album amazing song
I love this song...it might be an even better opener than E-Pro was.
I love "No dead flowers gonna grow till the dirt gets wet" I really don't know why I love it but I say it occasionally in conversations and no one understands what it's from
yeah its a great song, it gets you into the beck mindset really well, and just gets your feet thumpin; a little primer before the weird darkness that the album drifts into
great song, love the line "And you're doin' it to death, cause it's the end of the world."
This reminds me of Cibo Matto's "Working For Vacation", I think it's about using music to escape the doldrums of your everyday life. Yeah, great opener for the album.
I love the little guitar riff when he says "its the end of the world."
the information is laughing at us. a pretty war album from the depths of nowhere. while we lie out of our teeth. the hair on the back of our hands betray our true nature. beck is singing about all these platitudes. being fresh is nothing new for him. he just wants to get some beans for his burrito can you fault him for that?
I love the way he did, "Let a little bit of this, the past week is done" in the song.