This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
What we once thought we had, we didn't
And what we have now will never be that way again
So we call upon the author to explain
Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets
We've shunned them from the greasy grind
The poor little things they look so sad and old
As they mount us from behind
I ask them to desist and to refrain!
And then we call upon the author to explain
Well, rosary clutched in his hand
He died with tubes up his nose
And a cabal of angels with finger cymbals
Chanted his name in code
We shook our fists at the punishing rain
And we called upon the author to explain
He said, everything is messed up round here
Everything is banal and jejune
There's a planetary conspiracy against the likes of you and me
In this idiot constituency of the moon
Well, he knew exactly who to blame!
And we call upon the author to explain
Prolix! Prolix!
Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix
Well, I go guruing down the street
And young people gather 'round my feet
And they ask me things, but I don't know where to start
They ignite the powder trail straight to my father's heart
And, yeah, once again
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah, we call upon the author to explain
Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing
That mediocres my every thought?
I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker!
It's fucked up and he is a fucker
But what an enormous and encyclopedic brain!
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah we call upon the author to explain
Alright, yeah
Rampant discrimination
Mass poverty, third world debt
Infectious disease, global inequality
And deepening socio-economic divisions
Well, it does in your brain
We call upon the author to explain
Now hang on
My friend Doug is tapping on the window!
"Hey Doug, how you been?" (hey Doug)
Well, he brings me a book on holocaust poetry, complete with pictures
And then he tells me to get ready for the rain
And we call upon the author to explain
I say, ah
Prolix! Prolix!
Something a pair of scissors can fix
Bukowski was a jerk!
Berryman was best!
He wrote like wet papier-mache
But he went the Hemingway
Weirdly on wings and with maximum pain
We call upon the author to explain
Yeah well I call upon the author to explain
Yeah well down in my bolt hole I see they've published
Another volume of unreconstructed rubbish
"The waves, the waves were soldiers moving"
Well, thank you! Thank you!
Thank you and again
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah I call upon the author to explain
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah we call upon the author to explain
I said
Prolix! Prolix!
There's nothing a pair of scissors can't fix
And what we have now will never be that way again
So we call upon the author to explain
Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets
We've shunned them from the greasy grind
The poor little things they look so sad and old
As they mount us from behind
I ask them to desist and to refrain!
And then we call upon the author to explain
Well, rosary clutched in his hand
He died with tubes up his nose
And a cabal of angels with finger cymbals
Chanted his name in code
We shook our fists at the punishing rain
And we called upon the author to explain
He said, everything is messed up round here
Everything is banal and jejune
There's a planetary conspiracy against the likes of you and me
In this idiot constituency of the moon
Well, he knew exactly who to blame!
And we call upon the author to explain
Prolix! Prolix!
Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix
Well, I go guruing down the street
And young people gather 'round my feet
And they ask me things, but I don't know where to start
They ignite the powder trail straight to my father's heart
And, yeah, once again
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah, we call upon the author to explain
Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing
That mediocres my every thought?
I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker!
It's fucked up and he is a fucker
But what an enormous and encyclopedic brain!
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah we call upon the author to explain
Alright, yeah
Rampant discrimination
Mass poverty, third world debt
Infectious disease, global inequality
And deepening socio-economic divisions
Well, it does in your brain
We call upon the author to explain
Now hang on
My friend Doug is tapping on the window!
"Hey Doug, how you been?" (hey Doug)
Well, he brings me a book on holocaust poetry, complete with pictures
And then he tells me to get ready for the rain
And we call upon the author to explain
I say, ah
Prolix! Prolix!
Something a pair of scissors can fix
Bukowski was a jerk!
Berryman was best!
He wrote like wet papier-mache
But he went the Hemingway
Weirdly on wings and with maximum pain
We call upon the author to explain
Yeah well I call upon the author to explain
Yeah well down in my bolt hole I see they've published
Another volume of unreconstructed rubbish
"The waves, the waves were soldiers moving"
Well, thank you! Thank you!
Thank you and again
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah I call upon the author to explain
I call upon the author to explain
Yeah we call upon the author to explain
I said
Prolix! Prolix!
There's nothing a pair of scissors can't fix
Lyrics submitted by mutinyinheaven_x
We Call Upon the Author Lyrics as written by Warren Ellis Nicholas Cave
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Mute Song Limited
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I think the reference to prolix and a pair of scissors means cutting down his lyrics, to get rid of that amazing over-the-top and gradiose stuff. And I believe he is 'the author', because he gets asked about all those things when he goes 'guru-ing' down the street.
So in summary, I reckon this is about people asking Nick Cave to explain his lyrics and the world. Which makes this a pretty appropriate page!