THE FATIMA MANSIONS--Come Back My Children [Lyrics attempt]

Originally compiled by Aaron Giles.
Updated and edited by Dave Watson/SHLF. Please send updates and corrections to him here.
Thanks to Adam Ball for a few corrections and explanations.
All songs written by Cathal Coughlan and published by Mucho Loco Music, except where noted.
Samples are in (round brackets).
Questionable phrases are in [square brackets].

To avoid an empty feeling of mild irritation and pensiveness, it is recommended that the listener refrain from reading the lyrics as the album plays. However, it's your excessive sum of money that's been paid...

Come Back My Children CD coverSONGS:
Only Losers Take the Bus
The Day I Lost Everything
Wilderness on Time
You Won't Get Me Home
13th Century Boy
Bishop of Babel
Valley of the Dead Cars
Big Madness
What?
Blues for Ceaucescu
On Suicide Bridge
Hive
The Holy Mugger
Stigmata
Lady Godiva's Operation


Only Losers Take The Bus

I'm not stupid--I'm a man (!ythgimla hsurdloG)
I'm not stupid

I'm born again in hail and flames (Goldrush almighty!)
Go tell it loud to all my slaves (Goldrush almighty!)
You scum don't have the fear of God
All that's left is the iron rod (Goldrush almighty!)

Let's go down, kiss the plough
Public system--burn down!
and let memory fade--nothing is wrong

Only losers take the bus
Only losers take the bus

Churchill was a shopping bag (Goldrush almighty!)
Can you draw the Chinese flag? (Goldrush almighty!)
It's three blue lines and six dahlias
Paris is in India (Goldrush almighty!)

Let's go down on my friends
All alone, we descend
Plastic food, TV--Take your eyes off of me!

Only losers take the bus
Only losers take the bus

I hate misunderstandings
Hey, get these dead bodies off my racetrack!

And we cry out with joy as we drive through the rain
and our enemies claw from every goddamn side

Only losers take the bus....
Only losers, only losers, only losers take the bus
I'm no loser, I'm elect!* Protect me! Protect me!
I'm not one of them, I'm not one of them, I'm not one of them...

* Elect--One divinely chosen for salvation.

The Day I Lost Everything

I'm here on a mission to tell you exactly what can go wrong if you're not careful. You see, it's like this: you're running down the staircase at random. You take one step, you take two steps, you take seven steps, 10 steps, two steps, 15 steps, 19 steps...you're lying in a heap at the bottom of the staircase--blood, bones, powder, that sort of thing--and you're wondering, how did I get here? And then you look up and you see...it's a man in a cowl, it's a man in a cowl, he opens his face to you--it's Jimmy Tarbuck*. He is saying, "Kiss the ring! Kiss the ring!", and he says, "Yes, there is a Santa Claus, and anybody who blasphemes against Santa or any of his helpers shall die." What do you do? What do YOU do?

You whimper thanks to the heavenly sky
Its grey is getting lighter
No peace of mind or sleep for you
You haven't earned it yet
and you won't by dusk, I bet
Until you learn what futures you've destroyed
we musn't see you sulk or get annoyed...no

On the day I lost everything they couldn't help enough
They shot my veins full of gelatine
I said, "Thank you very much, you're too kind!"

While they lived in luxury
I made do with money, sweet money
and now I'm going to measure the rain
and you can sit and watch me--Look! Look!
Don't even think about not answering your phone
It might be me and I know you're always home

On the day I lost everything they couldn't help enough
They stopped my clock and they folded my wings
I said, "Thank you very much for everything!"
It means, "I'm gonna destroy you with my slings and my bullets!"

On the day I lost everything the sky was purest white
and the clocks had stopped so I started to sing
"The Magpie Sleeps Tonight"

On the day I lost everything

* A veteran Liverpool comedian, talk show and game show host, and a golfing enthusiast as well.

Wilderness On Time

When my taxi arrives, say that I'm dead,
having swallowed my leg
and come to the bedroom again
Let us begin shrinking the walls
and counting our ears, in sweat, as we crawl
Get me to the wilderness on time

When I look round your eyes
there's a space at the side
where ten more eyes could hide
and they'd squeal when they learned what I mean
Madame Obscene, sweating skulls clean
and my genuine Celticness shines
Oops! It just struck me blind
I'm such a spiritual guy

Get me to the wilderness and bury my leg in some bog
and tell me all about right and wrong
and tell me life is serious and zip up your dress
and get me to the wilderness on time

You Won't Get Me Home

Her uncle won't support her now
He loves his Masons more
with their Boy Scout songs of Jahbulon
as they flocked to gore some whores

She says, "You won't get me home
You won't get me home
Everything I own is gone."

They built a wall around the town to keep her plague within
until all of the unclean had died atoning for their sins

You won't get me home
You won't get me home
Leave my mouth alone
You're old -- you're old!

You won't get me home
to jump my tired bones
Now leave my mouth alone and go!
Go! Go!

The Prince of Caledonia, he drives a diesel van
Yeah, he peddles skag in Hamilton
He's the reality man, reality man

You're not your own executioner, no
You're not your own executioner, no
You're not your own executioner, even though they tell you,
they tell you, they tell you, they tell you so!

13th Century Boy

Let the dark ages begin...now!

You don't live the way you should
You're not chaste or wise or good
Oh no, when you're human
I wait for you, my queen
I keep myself ready clean like my maker--against nature
I needn't worry about all the wars out there
The price of fish and all the ineffective hygiene

CHORUS:
You are the reason why I've reached perfection
You are the reason why I try to tend this fertile void
I'm a 13th century boy

These are heroic times
so thumb your nose at years gone by
Be hardened...we're a legend
Now love keeps the country green
I know because I've seen the pictures
in this week's scriptures

All I know is that I feel you coming near
All you need know is that your [prophet elector] is waiting--CHORUS

You are the reason why I live forever
You are the reason why I learned to love the void
Oh, I'm a 13th century boy
Oh, I'm a New Dark Ages boy
I'm a 13th century boy

Bishop of Babel

No one comes from here and so I'm not afraid
Everyone's the same as me
We don't talk the same so we don't talk at all
and our hosts just look on with glee

I'm the Bishop of Babel now
so it's low, yes it's low you must bow
Though my flock may sneer and mock
I'm the Bishop of Babel now

You'll see me in the street in golden hat and cape
and blessing all the waifs and strays
In the [hail and] shine, smiling, resigned
and abandoned to foolish ways

For I'm the Bishop of Babel now
as even stray dogs will allow
The poor folks flock around and remark,
"Look, the Bishop of Babel's down!"

Oh, I'm the Bishop of Babel now
and my [audience] don't count in this town
[If relic] and flock here set to rot
I'm the Bishop of Babel now
Sad old Bishop of Babel now

Valley Of The Dead Cars

A box full of groceries
Rotten clothes, she's torn her knees
In the main street chill
She sleeps at night in broke-down cars
Squirts the dreams into her arms
She says, "Junkie-man, have your fill."

Well, she had friends that went abroad and do not write
She says the hardest ones are those who stay behind

CHORUS:
In the valley of the dead cars
they would end it all if they could start
They sent out their kids to wander the world
Now they can rest at last

You're out scootin' by the graveyard
and you're looking for a brave heart
Could've been your lover but you said you never gave
You have to be home early
or you'll get smacked 'round the head till bedtime
Now you hike the roads on your half-shod feet
You hump the devil, you hump the police
Criss-cross Harlem playing hide-and-seek with death

And now she lurches off as haughty as a queen
to take the waters in old Skibbereen--CHORUS

So I took her back with me to my own true place
which was a mildewed and disintegrating cottage
overlooking a disused waterfall
and we lay there in silence, fruitless silence
until just before dawn when she rolled over onto me

They come withal in their Japanese cars
They know where the good meal bargains are
and they spy by the side of the road
in the twilight, rain and storm
She juts her thumb in futile haste
Contempt to her is sweet to taste
The nuns told her, "Do not waste sensation."

When the towns are all just smoking empty shells
she will still be here doing what she does well

In the valley of the dead cars
at the mouth of a flooded mine
I will embrace you hard
and we'll wait for the sun to shine
in the valley of the dead cars
The valley of the dead cars

Big Madness

In the winter in a seaside boarding house
the killer swigs and reels 'round his room
telling how he made that weeping spinster kneel
Yellow light seeps through a fly-blown lampshade
fading with the dawn
He yells and laughs, "They all wanted it.
It was easy, so how could it be wrong?"

CHORUS:
5 AM and the seas are boiling
5 AM and the windows crack
5 AM and my hands are on you
Big madness
Big madness

When I phone you just to hear your voice
oh please, don't judge me so
It's just that I don't think I'll rise again
till I've seen how low I can go
Next springtime when I'm gone for good
and you struggle to find the words cruel enough
Through all these dying continents
my stupid laughter will be heard--CHORUS
Big madness

What?

Let's go round again
Let loose again
Off the wall again
Across the floor again
and come on in his chair
We can make believe he's there
Make our bodies answer our unspoken dread
If he walked in the room
I would slap him with his slipper
Would we laugh? Would we scream?
What? What? What? What?

I walk the streets again
until it's day again
I nearly try again
I'm at your door again
All your need and regret
forms a new breath of angel
Forming joy, world without love
What? What? What?

You don't understand
We don't understand
(Third verse, three things make him speak in tongues.
I dunno. I dunno!)

Let's play again
and we will laugh again
We'll forget it when
we let it loose again
and I gasped at the view
as we pushed it where we're going
And the words burst out--
Why? When? What? What? What? What?
Try just again [...?]
What? What?

Blues for Ceaucescu

Well, hello.
You can no longer depend on the land in which you were born.
You can no longer depend on any land in which you choose to place yourself.
You can no longer depend on the bed in which you lie by night,
or the room in which you sit by day.
You can no longer depend on the pillow on which you lay your head.
You can no longer depend on the existence of [silence] in your mind when you close your eyes.
Go to England, baby-raper, false economist.
Call yourself King Charles III.
Nobody will notice.
Nobody will be alarmed.
There is no constitution.
Go. Goodbye. Goodbye.

He's shining brightly, he can't be a man
He is the genius of the Carpathians
He's running checks on his mother's womb
He's gonna be reborn real soon

CHORUS:
Ciao, Ceaucescu! Ciao, Ceaucescu! Ciao, Ceaucescu!
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!

Well, golly gee, oh my gosh, I never
Regina, Regina rubs her thighs together
She made three wishes and they all came true
The middle one ended in a "W"
The first one began with a kiss kiss kiss
The last one ended in a pulverized fist

(And don't forget, I need sleep. I don't get no sleep.)
Meanwhile in London, things stay the same
The untenable must be maintained
Who's that knocking down my back door?
It's the same bald-headed, bug-eyed male whore--CHORUS

In the dingy Irish orphan's home
Dickie Mountbatten licks the alchemist's bone
It's done in strict official secrecy
God, I love living in a democracy!
I really do! I do! I really do!
I looooooooovve you! I looooooooovvvvvvve you!

He's shining brightly, he can't be a man
He is the genius of the Carpathians
He's running checks on his mother's womb
Hey, look out below, he's gonna drop again soon!--CHORUS
Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!

Give thanks!!

On Suicide Bridge

On Suicide Bridge, I found myself one spring morning in the frigid sunshine, weary of the humiliations of the Crouch End. There I was. An old lady passed me. She smiled and said, "Good morning, young man." I looked at her and I said, "I'm going to kill myself." She smiled again and said, "Yes, I think that's a very good idea."

On Suicide Bridge one winter's day
my eyes were sprouting lemons
I had paid a Greek to listen to me speak
He said "Limasol*, she beckons."
And so my subjects gathered beneath me there
I gave a mighty roar
"Wi' me too-rye-ah, fah-la-deedle-dah"--
"Shut up, Irish bore!"

Come back, my children! Come back! Come back!
All that was lost has been regained, shall remain with us
Now and forever, amen.
Come back! Come back! Come back, my children! Come back!

* A city in Crete.

Hive

Do you think they could see us in this base circumstance
You with blood on your knees and me with my hand down your pants?
If a lad wears a dress then won't George want his sex?
[As his explorers buy butt] sex operation, decision time's come
At the end of our useful lives

We're out of the hive
We must be groovin'
We're out of the hive
in the land of the black and white minstrels

What do you call him, boyfriend or [flat bone]?
He's a sensitive artist--come on, let's leave him alone

You've got to watch the blind
I said you've got to watch the blind
On the day of the [morning] festival
The bleakest afternoon of the season
All drones everywhere arise from mildewed states of unconsciousness
and go to celebrate their condition in the abandoned village greens
where the fairground is down
with its revolving towers of burning colored lights
and its roaring tin can music, its people and fumes
Drunks stagger everywhere
and paw each other in the half-light at the edge of the confusion

Out of the hive
We must be groovin'
We're out of the hive
We're out of the hive
We're out of the hive now
We might as well come and die
We're out of the hive
in the land of the black and white minstrels
Hallelujah!

Do you think they can see us? Oh, I do hope they can
They can do me a favor and bury you where you stand!

The Holy Mugger

Here he comes, in the dead of the month
His hair falling out, his shoulders hunched
Secure with his Third World expectation
[...] open sewers of degredation
I hate his guts though we we have not spoken
[...] feeling? You must be joking!
The Lambourghini cleaner scowls
Everybody hates the holy mugger
Yeah, the holy mugger

I have to send this blacklist out
and watch these rakes crawl past my house
The silence here has driven me mad
Jihad, jihad, what the fuck was that?
The holy mugger
The holy mugger
The holy mugger

In a week, he's dead, nobody talks
but they never do--it was his own fault
His body's in the gutter, just the way he fell
We glower at the sight and ignore the smell
and it's closing time at the Shiatsu Brothel
and the rail track breaths a rickety rattle
The burglars drive their hearses home
The kids stay in and learn to speak in code

Who dunnit? I don't know. I don't know!

Here he comes, he never died
He calls the street [...]
and a whitewashed cap on a swimming peak
Find his fortunes on his feet
[...?]
I am now a [...?]
I'll accept that this is normal
[...?] it must be formal
The holy mugger
The holy mugger
The holy mugger
The libertine Nazi from hell!

Stigmata

(Music/Lyrics--Ministry) Published by Spurburn Music

Stronger than reason
Stronger than lies
The only truth I know is the look in your eyes

Just like a car crash
Just like a knife
My favourite weapon is the look in your eyes
It's mine! Get off mine! Get off mine!

Chewing on glass
and eating my fingers
I'm not the one who has run out of lies
Run out of lies
Run out of lies...

Hurting my face
Walking on splinters
I lost my soul to the look in your eyes
You've run out of lies
Run out of lies...
[All we elected was....?]

Lady Godiva's Operation

(Music/Lyrics--Lou Reed) Published by MGM Music

([???])
("Get your fingers in.")

Lady Godiva, dressed so demurely
pats the head of another curly-haired boy
A spurting pink toy
Sick with silence, she weeps sincerely
Saying words that have all so clearly been said ("You will do--")
so long ago ("--what I tell you.")
[...]
Here today now and dipped in the water
Making love to every poor daughter's son
Isn't it fun?
"Doctor is coming," the nurse thinks SWEETLY
Turning on the machines that NEATLY PUMPS AIR
("Make the incision at the base of the skull.")
The body lies bare

("I want you to think of me as someone you can come to with your problems.")

Shaved and hairless, what once was SCREAMING
now lies silent and almost sleeping
The brain must have got away
Strapped securely to the white table
Beneath the gauze the body will wither and writhe
underneath the white light
Doctor arrives with knife and baggage
Sees the growth as just so much cabbage ("Take the bone saw--")
that must now be cut away ("--and cut around the perimeter.")
Now comes the moment of great, great decision
Doctor is making the first incision
One goes here and one goes there
"Ether tubes are leaking", says someone who's sloppy
Patient, it seems, is not so well sleeping
The screams echo up the hall
Don't panic, someone give him pentathol instantly
Doctor removes the blade cagily so from the brain
By my count of ten--the head won't move
("And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen--the human brain.")

Haaaaa!! Here we go, everybody!!
All you fucking bastards!! Yeah!! Haha!!
Oh, oh, Lady Godiva
My queen of the killing floor
Oh, oh, Lady Godiva
[...?] in a butcher store
La la la la la...

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