In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Lazy flies all hovering above
The magistrate he puts on his gloves
And he looks to the clouds
All pink and disheveled
There must be some blueprints,
Some creed of the devil
Inscribed in our minds
A hideous game
Vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaves
Who wants to be there?
To sweep the debris
To harness dead horses
To ride in the sun
A life of confessions
Written in the dust
Out in the mangroves
The mynah birds cry
In the shadows of sulphur
The trawlers drift by
They're chewing dried meat
In a house of disrepute
The dust of opiates
And syphilis patients
On brochure vacations
Fear has a glare that traps you
Like searchlights
The puritans stare
Their souls are fluorescent
The skin of a robot
Vibrates with pleasure
Matrons and gigolos
Carouse in the parlor
Their hand grenade eyes
Invalid and blind
Vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaves
Who wants to be there?
To sweep the debris
To harness dead horses
To ride in the sun
A life of confessions
Written in the dust
The magistrate he puts on his gloves
And he looks to the clouds
All pink and disheveled
There must be some blueprints,
Some creed of the devil
Inscribed in our minds
A hideous game
Vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaves
Who wants to be there?
To sweep the debris
To harness dead horses
To ride in the sun
A life of confessions
Written in the dust
Out in the mangroves
The mynah birds cry
In the shadows of sulphur
The trawlers drift by
They're chewing dried meat
In a house of disrepute
The dust of opiates
And syphilis patients
On brochure vacations
Fear has a glare that traps you
Like searchlights
The puritans stare
Their souls are fluorescent
The skin of a robot
Vibrates with pleasure
Matrons and gigolos
Carouse in the parlor
Their hand grenade eyes
Invalid and blind
Vanishes in thin air
The vanity of slaves
Who wants to be there?
To sweep the debris
To harness dead horses
To ride in the sun
A life of confessions
Written in the dust
Lyrics submitted by Ice, edited by Halicarnassus
Lazy Flies Lyrics as written by Beck Hansen
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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This song has a few themes: decay (flies, disheveled, vanishes, debris, dead horses, syphilis), hedonism (opiates, vibrates with pleasure, gigolos carouse), and pious detachment (gloves, puritans stare), to name some.
I think that Beck is contrasting the self-denying, reproachful attitude of the pious with the abandon of the hedonistic. On the one hand, there are the Puritans and the magistrate. The magistrate examines his life and the world around him and passes judgment - he knows the world is corrupt, and contemplates it as something he must endure. The Puritans strive to make their souls beacons while staring in disapproval at the pleasure-seekers around them.
On the other hand, there are the hedonists. They do what they want, recognizing their own corruption and gleefully accepting the consequences (syphilis, blindness, etc).
I think Beck's trying to get people to ask which life is better. Should we be slaves to morality or sin? Should we beat a dead horse by constantly being judgmental, or by repeating the same stale recreations? Should we stoop to acknowledge our sins, or should our confessions (or consequences, I quess) be written by the decay of our body to dust?
That's my interpretation.