Lou Reed : New York

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| ... Caught between the twisted stars The plotted lines, the faulty map That brought Columbus to New York Betwixt between the East and West He calls on her wearing a leather vest The earth squeals and shudders to a halt A diamond crucifix in his ear Is used to help ward off the fear That he has left his soul in someone's rented car Inside his pants he hides a mop To clean the mess that he has dropped Into the life of lithesome Juliette Bell And Romeo wanted Juliette And Juliette wanted Romeo And Romeo wanted Juliette And Juliette wanted Romeo Romeo Rodriguez Squares his shoulders and curses Jesus Runs a comb through his black pony-tail He's thinking of his lonely room The sink that by his bed gives off a stink Then smells her perfume in his eyes And her voice was like a bell Outside the streets were steaming The crack dealers were dreaming Of an Uzi someone had just scored I betcha I could hit that light With my one good arm behind my back Says little Joey Diaz Brother, give me another tote Those downtown hoods are no damn good Those Italians need a lesson to be taught This cop who died in Harlem You think they'd get the warnin' I was dancing when I saw his brains run out on the street And Romeo had Juliette And Juliette had her Romeo And Romeo had Juliette And Juliette had her Romeo I'll take Manhattan in a garbage bag With Latin written on it that says "It's hard to give a shit these days" Manhattan's sinking like a rock Into the filthy Hudson what a shock They wrote a book about it They said it was like Ancient Rome The perfume burned his eyes Holding tightly to her thighs And something flickered for a minute And then it vanished and was gone

Key:

A

There's a downtown fairy singing out "Proud Mary"

D

As she cruises Christopher Street

A

And some southern queen is acting loud and mean

D

Where the docks and the badlands meet

Bm

G

This Halloween is something to be sure

Bm

G

Especially to be here without you

A

There's a Greta Garbo and an Alfred Hitchcock

D

And some black Jamaican stud

A

There's five Cinderellas and some leather drags

D

I almost fell into my mug

Bm

G

There's a Crawford, Davis and a tacky Cary Grant

Bm

G

A

And some homeboys lookin' for trouble down here from the Bronx

Modulate to:

D

But there ain't no Harry and no Virgin Mary

G

You won't hear those voices again

D

And Johnny Rio and Rotten Rita

G

You'll never see those faces again

Em

C

This Halloween is something to be sure

Em

C

Especially to be here without you

D

There's the Born Again Losers and the Lavender Boozers

G

And some crack team from Washington Heights

D

The boys from Avenue B, the girls from Avenue D

G

A Tinkerbell in tights

Em

C

This celebration somehow gets me down

Em

C

D

Especially when I see you're not around

Modulate to:

G

There's no Peter Pedantic saying things romantic

C

In Latin, Greek or Spic

G

There's no Three Bananas or Brandy Alexander

C

Dishing all their tricks

Am

F

It's a different feeling that I have today

Am

F

Especially when I know you've gone away

G

There's a girl from Soho with a T-shirt saying "I Blow"

C

She's with the "Jive Five 2 Plus 3"

G

And the girls for pay dates are giving cut rates

C

Or else doing it for free

Am

F

The past keeps knock-knock knocking on my door

Am

F

G

And I don't want to hear it anymore

Modulate to:

C

No consolations please for feelin' funky

F

I got to get my head above my knees

C

But it makes me mad and that makes me sad

F

And then I start to freeze

Dm

Bb

In the back of my mind I was afraid it might be true

Dm

Bb

C

In the back of my mind I was afraid that they meant you

Modulate to:

F

Bb

C

(

F

) The Halloween Parade (Halloween Parade) At the Halloween Parade (Halloween Parade) At the Halloween Parade (Halloween Parade) See you next year, at the Halloween Parade Wah wah ooh Halloween Parade ...

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x4

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Pedro lives out of the Wilshire Hotel

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He looks out a window without glass

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D

The walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet

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D

And his father beats him 'cause he's too tired to beg He's got nine brothers and sisters, they're brought up on their knees It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man But that's a slim chance he's going to the boulevard

G

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He's going to end up, on the dirty boulevard

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He's going out, to the dirty boulevard

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He's going down, to the dirty boulevard |

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| This room cost two thousand dollars a month, you can believe it man, it's true Somewhere a landlord's laughing till he wets his pants No one dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything They dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor I'll piss on 'em That's what the Statue of Bigotry says Your poor huddled masses, let's club 'em to death And get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard Get 'em out, on the dirty boulevard Going out, to the dirty boulevard They're going down, to the dirty boulevard Going out Outside it's a bright night, there's an opera at Lincoln Center Movie stars arrive by limousine The klieg lights shoot up over the skyline of Manhattan But the lights are out on the mean streets A small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel He's selling plastic roses for a buck The traffic's backed up to 39th Street The TV whores are calling the cops out for a suck And back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming He's found a book on magic in a garbage can He looks at the pictures and stares up at the cracked ceiling "At the count of 3," he says, "I hope I can disappear" And fly fly away, from this dirty boulevard... I want to fly from the dirty boulevard I want to fly from the dirty boulevard I want to fly, fly, fly, fly from the dirty boulevard I want to fly away I want to fly Fly fly away I want to fly Fly fly away Fly fly fly Fly fly away Fly away (I want to fly, wow whoa, no, fly away)

Intro: instrumental verse

G

C

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The bias of the father runs on through the son

C

D

G

Leaving him bothered and bewildered

G

C

G

The drugs in his veins only cause him to spit

C

D

G

At the face staring back in the mirror

D

C

G

How can he tell the good act from the bad

C

D

G

He can't even remember his name

G

C

G

How can he do what needs to be done

C

D

G

When he's a follower and not a leader The sickness of the mother runs on through the girl Leaving her small and helpless Liquor flies through her brain with the force of a gun Leaving her running in circles How can she tell a good act from the bad When she's flat on her back in her room How can she do what needs to be done When she's a coward and a bleeder The man if he marries will batter his child And have endless excuses The woman sadly will do much the same Thinking that it's right and it's proper Better than their mommy or their daddy did Better than the childhood they suffered The truth is they're happier when they're in pain In fact, that's why they got married Pa, pa, pa-pa, pa Pa, pa, pa-pa, pa Pa, pa, pa-pa, pa Pa, pa, pa-pa, pa Pa, pa, pa-pa, pa Pa, pa, pa-pa, pa

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Bm

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Em

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G

A

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D

This is no time for celebration

Bm

This is no time for shaking heads

Em

This is no time for backslapping

G

A

This is no time for marching bands This is no time for optimism This is no time for endless thought This is no time for my country right or wrong Remember what that brought There is no time There is no time There is no time There is no time This is no time for congratulations This is no time to turn your back This is no time for circumlocution This is no time for learned speech This is no time to count your blessings This is no time for private gain This is no time to put up or shut up It won't come back this way again There is no time... This is no time to swallow anger This is no time to ignore hate This is no time to be acting frivolous Because the time is getting late This is no time for private vendettas This is no time to not know who you are Self knowledge is a dangerous thing The freedom of who you are This is no time to ignore warnings This is no time to clear the plate Let's not be sorry after the fact And let the past become out fate There is no time... This is no time to turn away and drink Or smoke some vials of crack This is a time to gather force And take dead aim and attack This is no time for celebration This is no time for saluting flags This is no time for inner searchings The future is at hand This is no time for phony rhetoric This is no time for political speech This is a time for action Because the future's within reach This is the time This is the time This is the time Because there is no time There is no time...

D/a

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They say he didn't have an enemy His was a greatness to behold He was the last surviving progeny The last one on this side of the world He measured a half mile from tip to tail Silver and black with powerful fins They say he could split a mountain in two That's how we got the Grand Canyon Last great American whale Last great American whale Last great American whale Last great American whale Some say they saw him at the Great Lakes Some say they saw him off of Florida My mother said she saw him in Chinatown But you can't always trust your mother Off the Carolinas the sun shines brightly in the day The lighthouse glows ghostly there at night The chief of a local tribe had killed a racist mayor's son And he'd been on death row since 1958 The mayor's kid was a rowdy pig Spit on Indians and lots worse The old chief buried a hatchet in his head Life compared to death for him seemed worse The tribal brothers gathered in the lighthouse to sing And tried to conjure up a storm or rain The harbor parted, the great whale sprang full up And caused a huge tidal wave The wave crushed the jail and freed the chief The tribe let out a roar The whites were drowned, the browns and reds set free But sadly one thing more Some local yokel member of the NRA Kept a bazooka in his living room And thinking he had the chief in his sight Blew the whale's brains out with a lead harpoon Last great American whale Last great American whale Last great American whale Last great American whale Well Americans don't care for much of anything Land and water the least And animal life is low on the totem pole With human life not worth more than infected yeast Americans don't care too much for beauty They'll shit in a river, dump battery acid in a stream They'll watch dead rats wash up on the beach And complain if they can't swim They say things are done for the majority Don't believe half of what you see and none of what you hear It's like what my painter friend Donald said to me "Stick a fork in their ass and turn them over, they're done"

Capo:

I

Am7

D7

Am7

D7

It might be fun to have a kid That I could kick around A little me to fill up with my thoughts A little me or he or she To fill up with my dreams A way of saying life is not a loss I'd keep the tyke away from school And tutor him myself Keep him from the poison of the crowd But then again pristine isolation Might not be the best idea It's not good trying to immortalize yourself

Gm

Am7

F7

E7#9

Am7

Beginning of a great adventure Beginning of a great adventure

Am7

D7

Am7

D7

Why stop at one, I might have ten A regular TV brood I'd breed a little liberal army in the wood Just like these redneck lunatics I see at the local bar With their tribe of mutant inbred piglets with cloven hooves I'd teach 'em how to plant a bomb Start a fire, play guitar And if they catch a hunter, shoot him in the nuts I'd try to be as progressive As I could possibly be As long as I don't have to try too much Beginning of a great adventure Beginning of a great adventure Susie, Jesus, Bogart, Sam Leslie, Jill and Jeff Rita, Whinny, Andy, Fran and Jet Boris, Bono, Lucy, Ethel Bunny, Reg and Tom That's a lot of names to try not to forget Carrie, Marlon, Moe and Steve La Rue and Jerry Lee Eggplant, Rufus, Dummy, Star and The Glob I'd need a damn computer To keep track of all these names I hope this baby thing don't go too far I hope it's true what my wife said to me I hope it's true what my wife said to me, hey I hope it's true what my wife said to me She says, "Baby, it's the beginning of a great adventure" "Babe, beginning of a great adventure" "Take it, Lou" It might be fun to have a kid That I could kick around Create in my own image like a god I'd raise my own pallbearers To carry me to my grave And keep me company when I'm a wizened toothless clod Some gibbering old fool Sitting all alone drooling on his shirt Some senile old fart playing in the dirt It might be fun to have a kid I could pass something on to Something better than rage, pain, anger and hurt I hope it's true what my wife said to me I hope it's true what my wife said to me I hope it's true what my wife said to me She says, "Lou, it's the beginning of a great adventure" "Lou, Lou, Lou, beginning of a great adventure" She says, "Babe, how you call your lover boy" "Sylvia, quite you call your lover man"

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| ... You can't depend on your family You can't depend on your friends You can't depend on a beginning You can't depend on an end You can't depend on intelligence Oooh, you can't depend on God You can only depend on one thing You need a busload of faith to get by, watch, baby Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by You need a busload of faith to get by You can depend on the worst always happening You can depend on a murderer's drive You can bet that if he rapes somebody There'll be no trouble having a child You can bet that if she aborts it Pro-lifers will attack her with rage You can depend on the worst always happening You need a busload of faith to get by, yeah Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by, baby Busload of faith to get by You can't depend on the goodly hearted The goodly hearted made lampshades and soap You can't depend on the Sacrament No Father, no Holy Ghost You can't depend on any churches Unless there's real estate you want to buy You can't depend on a lot of things You need a busload of faith to get by, whoa Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by You can't depend on no miracle You can't depend on the air You can't depend on a wise man You can't find 'em because they're not there You can depend on cruelty Crudity of thought and sound You can depend on the worst always happening You need a busload of faith to get by, ha Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by Busload of faith to get by

A

I was up in the morning with the TV blarin' Brush my teeth sittin' watchin' the news All the beaches were closed the ocean was a Red Sea But there was no one there to part it in two

D

There was no fresh salad 'Cause there's hypos in the cabbage Staten Island disappeared at noon

A

And they say the Midwest is in great distress And NASA blew up the moon

G

The ozone layer has no ozone anymore

D

And you're gonna leave me for the guy next door

A

I'm sick of you I'm sick of you They arrested the mayor for an illegal favor Sold the Empire State to Japan And Oliver North married William Secord And gave birth to a little Tehran And the Ayatollah bought a nuclear warship If he dies he wants to go out in style And there's nothing to eat that don't carry the stink Of some human waste dumped in the Nile Well one thing is certainly true No one here knows what to do And I'm sick of you I'm sick of you The radio said there were 400 dead In some small town in Arkansas Some whacked out trucker drove into a nuclear reactor And killed everybody he saw Now he's on Morton Downey and he's glowing and shining Doctors say this is a medical advance They say the bad makes the good And there's something to be learned In every human experience Well I know one thing that really is true This here's a zoo and the keeper ain't you And I'm sick of it I'm sick of you They ordained the Trumps and then he got the mumps And died being treated at Mt. Sinai And my best friend Bill died from a poison pill Some wired doctor prescribed for stress My arms and legs are shrunk, the food all has lumps They discovered some animal no one's ever seen It was an inside trader eating a rubber tire After running over Rudy Giuliani They say the president's dead, no one can find his head It's been missing now for weeks But no one noticed it, he had seemed so fit And I'm Sick of it I'm sick of you I'm so sick of you Bye, bye, bye Bye, bye, bye

A

D

A

There's blacks with knives and whites with clubs

D

A

Fighting in Howard Beach

A

There's no such thing as human rights

D

A

When you walk the New York streets

A

A cop was shot in the head by a ten years old kid

D

A

Named Buddha in Central Park last week

A

The fathers and daughters are lined up by the coffins

D

A

By the Statue of Bigotry, hey

A

You better hold on

Bm

D

A

Something's happening here

A

You better hold on

Bm

D

A

Well I'll meet you in Tompkins Square The dopers sent a message to the cops last weekend They shot him in the car where he sat And Eleanor Bumpers and Michael Stewart Must have appreciated that There's a rampaging rage rising up like a plague Of bloody vials washing up on the beach It'll take more than the Angels or Iron Mike Tyson To heal this bloody breach, hey-hey You better hold on Something's happening here You better hold on I'm gonna meet you in Tompkins Square A junkie ran down a lady, a pregnant dancer She'll never dance but the baby was saved He shot up some China White and nodded out at the wheel And he doesn't remember a thing They shot that old lady 'Cause they thought she was a witness To a crime she didn't even see Whose home is the home of the brave By the Statue of Bigotry, hey You better hold on Something's happening here You better hold on There's a lie in Tompkins Square You got a black .38 and a gravity knife You still have to ride the train There's the smelly essence of New York down there But you ain't no Bernard Goetz, ah There's no mafia lawyer to fight in your corner For that fifteen minutes of fame The have and the have-nots are bleeding in the tub That's New York's future not mine, oh You better hold on Something's happening here You better hold on Hey baby, something's happening here Hold on, oooh babe

E

God evening Mr Waldheim

D#m

And Pontiff how are you?

C#m

You have so much in common

B

F#

In the things you do And here comes Jesse Jackson He talks of common ground Does that common ground include me Or is it just a sound?

E

A sound that shakes

B

F#

E

B

F#

E

Oh Jesse, you must watch the sounds you make

E

A sound that quakes

B

F#

E

B

F#

E

There are fears that still reverberate Jesse you say common ground Does that include the PLO? What about people right here, right now Who fought for you not so long ago? The words that flow so freely Falling dancing from your lips I hope that you don't cheapen them With a racist slip Oh common ground Is common ground a word or just a sound? Oh, oh, common ground Remember those civil rights workers buried in the ground If I ran for president And once was a member of the Klan Wouldn't you call me on it The way I call you on Farrakhan? And Pontiff, pretty Pontiff Can anyone shake your hand? Or is it just that you like uniforms And someone kissing your hand? Or is it true The common ground for me includes you too? Oh, oh, is it true The common ground for me includes you too? Good evening Mr Waldheim Pontiff how are you? As you both stroll through the woods at night I'm thinking thoughts of you And Jesse you're inside my thoughts As the rhythmic words subside My common ground invites you in Or do you prefer to wait outside? Or is it true The common ground for me is without you? Or is it true The common ground for me is without you? Oh is it true There's no ground common enough for me and you?

A

E

A

Sam was lyin' in the jungle

E

Agent orange spread against the sky like marmalade

A

Hendrix played on some foreign jukebox

D

They were praying to be saved

A

Those gooks were fierce and fearless

E

That's the price you pay when you invade

A

E

Xmas in February Sam lost his arm in some border town His fingers are mixed with someone's crop If he didn't have that opium to smoke The pain would never ever stop Half his friends are stuffed into black body bags With their names printed at the top Xmas in February Sammy was a short order cook In a short order black and blue collar town Everybody worked the steel mill But the steel mill got closed down He thought if he joined the Army He'd have a future that was sound Like no Xmas in February Sam's staring at the Vietnam wall It's been a while now that he's home His wife and kid have left, he's unemployed He's a reminder of the war that wasn't won He's that guy on the street with the sign that reads "Please help send this Vet home" But he is home And there's no Xmas in February No matter how much he saves

Bm

F#m

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F#m

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A

Bm

F#m

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F#m

A

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A

E

We who have so much to you who have so little

D

A

To you who don't have anything at all

A

E

We who have so much more than anyone man does need

D

A

And you who don't have anything at all Does anybody need another million dollar movie Does anybody need another million dollar star Does anybody need to be told over and over Spitting in the wind comes back at you twice as hard

D

A

Strawman, going straight to the devil

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A

Strawman, going straight to hell

D

A

Strawman, going straight to the devil

A

D

Strawman, strawman

A

D

Strawman, strawman, yes Does anyone really need a billion dollar rocket Does anyone need a sixty thousand dollar car Does anyone need another president Or the sins of Swaggart parts 6, 7, 8 and 9, ah Does anyone need yet another politician Caught with his pants down and money sticking in his hole Does anyone need another racist preacher Spittin' in the wind can only do you harm, oooh Strawman, going straight to the devil Strawman, going straight to hell Strawman, going straight to the devil Strawman, strawman Strawman, strawman Does anyone need another faulty shuttle Blasting off to the moon, Venus or Mars Does anybody need another self-righteous rock singer Whose nose he says has led him straight to God Does anyone need yet another blank skyscraper If you're like me I'm sure a minor miracle will do A flaming sword or maybe a gold ark floating up the Hudson When you spit in the wind it comes right back at you Strawman, going straight to the devil Strawman, going straight to hell Strawman, going to the devil Strawman, strawman Strawman, ah Strawman Strawman

Bm

F#m

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F#m

A

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A

Bm

F#m

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F#m

A

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A

E7

He was lying banged and battered, skewered and bleeding Talking crippled on the cross Was his mind reeling and heaving hallucinating Fleeing what a loss

A7

The things he hadn't touched or kissed His senses slowly stripped away

E7

Not like Buddha, not like Vishnu Life wouldn't rise through him again I find it easy to believe That he might question his beliefs The beginning of the last temptation Dime story mystery The duality of nature, godly nature Human nature splits the soul Fully human, fully divine and divided The great immortal soul Split into pieces, whirling pieces Opposites attract From the front, the side, the back The mind itself attacks I know the feeling, I know it from before Descartes through Hegel belief is never sure Dime store mystery Last temptation

Guitar solo over 1 "verse" and 1 "chorus"

I was sitting drumming, thinking, thumping, pondering The mysteries of life Outside the city, shrieking, screaming, whispering The mysteries of life There's a funeral tomorrow At St. Patrick's the bells will ring for you Ah, what must you have been thinking When you realized the time had come for you I wish I hadn't thrown away my time On so much human and so much less divine The end of the last temptation The end of a dime store mystery

Lou Reed : New York
1989

Romeo Had Juliette

Halloween Parade

Dirty Blvd

Endless Cycle

There Is No Time

Last Great American Whale

Beginning Of A Great Adventure

Busload Of Faith

Sick Of You

Hold On

Good Evening Mr Waldheim

Xmas In February

Strawman

Dime Store Mystery

Lou Reed : New York 1989

Romeo Had Juliette

Halloween Parade

Dirty Blvd

Endless Cycle

There Is No Time

Last Great American Whale

Beginning Of A Great Adventure

Busload Of Faith

Sick Of You

Hold On

Good Evening Mr Waldheim

Xmas In February

Strawman

Dime Store Mystery

Lou Reed : New York
1989