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Black Angel's Death Song Lyrics
Myriad had choice of his fate
Set themselves out upon a plate for him to choose
What had he to lose?
Not a ghost bloodied country all covered with sleep
Where the Black Angel did weep, not an old city street in the east
Gone to choose
And wandering's brother walked on through the night
With his hair in his face on a long splintered cut from the knife
Of GT
The rally man's patter ran on through the dawn
Until we said, "So long" to his skull
Shrill yell
Shining brightly red-rimmed and red-lined with the time
Infused with the choice of the mind on ice skates scraping chunks
From the bells
Cut mouth bleeding razors, forgetting the pain
Antiseptic remains cool, good buy
So you fly to the cozy brown snow of the east
Gonna choose, choose again
Sacrificials remain make it hard to forget
Where you come from, the stools of your eyes serve to realize fame
Choose again
And Rovermans' refrain of the sacrilege recluse
For the loss of a horse
With the bowels and a tail of a rat
Come again, choose to go
And if Epiphany's terror reduced you to shame
Have your head bobbed and weaved
Choose a side to be on
And if the stone glances off, split didactics in two
Leave the color of the mouse trails, don't scream, try between
If you choose
If you choose, try to lose
For the loss of remain come and start
Start the game
I-che-che
Che-che-I
Che-che-che
Ka-tah-ko
Choose to choose
Choose to choose
Choose to go
Set themselves out upon a plate for him to choose
What had he to lose?
Not a ghost bloodied country all covered with sleep
Where the Black Angel did weep, not an old city street in the east
Gone to choose
With his hair in his face on a long splintered cut from the knife
Of GT
The rally man's patter ran on through the dawn
Until we said, "So long" to his skull
Shrill yell
Shining brightly red-rimmed and red-lined with the time
Infused with the choice of the mind on ice skates scraping chunks
From the bells
Antiseptic remains cool, good buy
So you fly to the cozy brown snow of the east
Gonna choose, choose again
Where you come from, the stools of your eyes serve to realize fame
Choose again
And Rovermans' refrain of the sacrilege recluse
For the loss of a horse
With the bowels and a tail of a rat
Come again, choose to go
Have your head bobbed and weaved
Choose a side to be on
And if the stone glances off, split didactics in two
Leave the color of the mouse trails, don't scream, try between
If you choose
If you choose, try to lose
For the loss of remain come and start
Start the game
Che-che-I
Che-che-che
Ka-tah-ko
Choose to choose
Choose to choose
Choose to go
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As soon as I read the first few lines I was reminded of Eliot's Prufrock poem, which is also about fate and choice. He refers to one having choices "dropped on a plate" in much the same way that Lou Reed does. this was probably not intentional at all, but the song and the poem go together in an interesting way. here's the specific verse:
"There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea."
I have a book on The Velvet Underground, and there's a part that talks about Eliot's influence on Reed's writing. Apparently Lou's mentor in college, Delmore Schwartz, was a worldwide authority on T.S. Eliot. I guess Lou was really impressed that Eliot could write something as good as Prufrock at age 25.
I have a book on The Velvet Underground, and there's a part that talks about Eliot's influence on Reed's writing. Apparently Lou's mentor in college, Delmore Schwartz, was a worldwide authority on T.S. Eliot. I guess Lou was really impressed that Eliot could write something as good as Prufrock at age 25.
At the end when he starts breaking into the "i chi chi, chi chi i, kah tah koh" seems directly influenced by the "co co rico co co rico" wordplay end of Eliot's The Waste Land.
At the end when he starts breaking into the "i chi chi, chi chi i, kah tah koh" seems directly influenced by the "co co rico co co rico" wordplay end of Eliot's The Waste Land.
Also, in heroin, the line "and when that...
Also, in heroin, the line "and when that heroin is in my blood, and my blood is in my head" always reminded me of the line "formulated, sprawling on a pin... pinned and wriggling on a wall". Two great lines.
and then The Murder Mystery is a whole other can of worms...
This is song is what it's titled, "the black angel's death song." It's starts out describing someone's fate and the choices he can make, but then it's narrated by the black angel. The black angel is describing to someone the different lifestyles he may choose to have, but all of them suck, so he says "choose to go." He's making it o.k. for someone to give up on life.
Sounds a little like Browning's "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came"; Browning said of it, "When I wrote this, God and Browning knew what it meant. Now God only knows." Simple. It's also epic and almost plotless like said poem.
It could be about communism, but it also sort of has that transcribed dream feel. Or it's a Bob Dylan parody.
This is a great tune. I read an interview with Lou Reed in which he said this song has no meaning, it all about the cadence and rhyme of the words. THats the beauty of this tune, searching for a meaning that doesn't exist. Just random words....
Someone living life, making choices, trying to find their place. The last lines are like advice talking about staying balance, not being overwhelmed by truth and realizations and being free to anything you are feeling. Free to your own opinions, path and everything in-between.
Lou Reed used various "random" methods of creativity at this stage of his career. I know that on occasions they would roll a dice to decide certain aspects of the music - I can't categorically say which songs or parts, but the solo of "I heard her call my name" would have to be random. He was also a big fan of Burroughs, who invented the "cut-up method" of writing - just writing pages of words and then rearranging them randomly. Themes still emerge, and to some extent the artist usually exercises some control over the arrangement. Even with a cut up method, this piece still seems to exude a mood, much as a good painting will speak to you.
GT. Good times? They certainly leave their long-splintered cuts (in the sense of "the needle and the damage done"), though not on the face; however, as asserted earlier, it may very well be some kind of cut and paste job from Lou.
I'm going to stick with "the knife of good times for now." This masterpiece of a song (in fact the whole side of the LP) just completely flipped the script on me tonight and, just, wow.
This is song is what it's titled, "the black angel's death song." It's starts out describing someone's fate and the choices he can make, but then it's narrated by the black angel. The black angel is describing to someone the different lifestyles he may choose to have, but all of them suck, so he says "choose to go." He's making it o.k. for someone to give up on life.
A masterpiece...
... the 'cozy brown snow of the east' is obviously smack. But what or who is G.T. ?
the song heroin does that to me. something in the drone.