Artist: Tom Waits Album: The Black Rider {1993}

Ladies and gentlemen, Harry's Harbour Bizarre is proud to present
Under the Big Top tonight - Human Oddities
That's right, you'll see the three-headed baby
You'll see Hitler's brain
See Lea Graff, the German midget, who sat in J.P. Morgan's lap
You'll see Priscilla Bajano, the monkey woman
Jo Jo, the dog face boy and Milton Malone, the human skeleton
That's right ladies and gentlemen
See Grace McDaniel's, the mule faced woman, and she's the homeliest woman in the world
Under the Big Top tonight, never before seen and if you have a heart condition, please be warned
Don't forget to visit our snack bar at Charleston Grotto
All sales are final, void where prohibited by law
You'll see Sealo, the seal boy, who has flippers for arms
You'll see Johnny Eck, the man born without a body, he walks on his hands
He has his own orchestra and is an excellent pianist
See Gerad Bessler, the human pincusion
And don't forget, it's ladies night here at Harry's Harbour Bizarre
You'll see Ko Ko, the bird girl, Mortando, the human fountain
Step a little a little closer ladies and gentlemen and don't be shy, dig deep in your pockets
You'll see Radion, the human torso, deep from the jungles of Africa
Ladies and gentlemen, Harry's Harbour Bizarre, ladies and gentlemen

Wait a minute, wait a minute here

Come on along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time
Lay down in the web of the black spider
I'll drink your blood like wine
So, come on in, it ain't no sin
Take off your skin and dance around your bones
So, come along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time

Hey, hold on there little sheriff, have your tickets ready
Under twelve are free

You just come on along, anchors away with the Black Rider
I'll drink your blood like wine
I'll drop you off in Harlem with the Black Rider
Out where the bullets shine
And when you're done you cock your gun
The blood will run like ribbons through your hair
Just come on along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time

Line forms to the left
Have your tickets ready, see the dog faced boy
Hey, little sheriff

Well, just come on along with the Black Rider
I've got just the thing for thee
Come on along with the Black Rider
I want your company
Well, I think I'll have the veal, a lovely meal
That's how I feel, oh, may I use your skull for a bowl
Just come on along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old, we'll have a gay old
We'll have a gay old, we'll have a gay old
We'll have a gay old time

Walk right up, have your tickets ready
Step right up, have your tickets ready
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you
You're too kind

No shadows, no stars
There's no moon and no cars, November
It only believes in a pile of dead leaves
And a moon that's the color of bone
No prayers for November to linger longer
Stick your spoon in the wall and we'll slaughter them all
November has tied me to an old dead tree
Get word to April to rescue me
November's cold chain made of wet boots and rain
Shiny black ravens on chimney smoke lanes
November seems odd, you're my firing squad, November

With my hair slicked back with carrion shellac
And the blood from a pheasant and the bone from a hare
Tied to the branches of a roebuck stag
Left to wave in the timber like a buck shot flag
Go away you rainsnout
Go away, blow your brains out, November

There is a light in the forest
There's a face in the tree
I'll pull you out of the chorus
And the first one's always free
You can never go a-hunting
With just a flintlock and a hound
You won't go home with a bunting
If you blow a hundred rounds
It takes much more than wild courage
Or you'll hit the tattered clouds
You must have just the right bullets
And the first one's always free
You must be careful in the forest
Broken glass and rusty nails
If you're to bring back something for us
I have bullets for sale

Two, three, four

Why be a fool when you can chase away
Your blind and your gloom
I have blessed each one of these bullets
And they shine just like a spoon
To have sixty silver wishes
Is a small price to pay
They'll be your private little fishes
And they'll never swim away
I just want you to be happy
That's my only little wish
I'll fix your wagon and your musket
And the spoon will have it's dish
And I shudder at the thought of your
Poor empty hunter's pouch
So, I'll keep the wind from your barrel
And bless the roof of your house

Two, three, four

INSTRUMENTAL

When you hear sweet syncopation
And the music softly moans
'T'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones
When it gets too hot for comfort
And you can't get ice cream cones
'T'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around your bones
Just like those bamboo babies
Down in the South Sea tropic zones
'T'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around your bones

When you hear sweet syncopation
And the music softly moans
'T'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones
When it gets too hot for comfort
And you can't get ice cream cones
'T'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones
Just like those bamboo babies
Down in the South Sea tropic zones
'T'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones

INSTRUMENTAL

That's the way the stomach rumbles
That's the way the bee bumbles
That's the way the needle pricks
That's the way the glue sticks
That's the way the potato mashes
That's the way the pan flashes
That's the way the market crashes
That's the way the whip lashes
That's the way the teeth knashes
That's the way the gravy stains
That's the way the moon wanes

Fell asleep down by the stream
And there I had the strangest dream
Down by Brennan's Glenn there grows
The briar and the rose
There's a tree in a forest but I don't know where
And I built a nest out of your hair
Climbing up into the air
The briar and the rose

I don't know how long it has been
But I was born in Brennan's Glenn
Near the end of spring there grows
A briar and the rose
I picked the rose one early morn
I pricked my finger on a thorn
It'd grown so close the winding wove
The briar around the rose

I tried to tear them both apart
I felt a bullet in my heart
And all dressed up in springs new clothes
The briar and the rose
When I'm buried in my grave
Tell me so I will know
Your tears will fall to make love grow
The briar and the rose

When I'm buried in my grave
Tell me so I will know
Your tears will fall to make them grow
The briar and the rose
Your tears will fall to make them grow
The briar and the rose

INSTRUMENTAL

INSTRUMENTAL

I'll shoot the moon right out of the sky for you, baby
I'll be the pennies on your eyes for you, baby
I want to take you out to the fair
Here is a red rose ribbon for your hair
I'll shoot the moon right out of the sky for you, baby
I'll shoot the moon for you
A vulture circles over your head for you, baby
I'll be the flowers after you're dead for you, baby
I want to build a nest in your hair
I want to kiss you and never be there
And I'll shoot the moon right out of the sky for you, baby
I'll shoot the moon for you

Ah, you know I love you, baby
So why don't you call me
You know my number, three-nine-two, seven-seven-oh-four
Call anytime, ah

I'll shoot the moon right out of the sky for you, baby
I'll shoot the moon for you
And I'll shoot the moon right out of the sky for you, baby
I'll be the flowers after you're dead for you, baby
I want to build a nest in your hair
I want to kiss you and never be there
I'll shoot the moon right out of the sky for you, baby
I'll shoot the moon for you

The flash pan hunter sways with the wind
And his rifle is the sound of the morning
Each sulfurous bullet must have it's own wit
And each cartridge comes with a warning
Beware of elaborate telescopic meat
It will find its way back to the forest
For Wilhelm can't wait to be Peg Leg's crown
And the briar is strangling the rose back down

His back shall be my slender new branch
It will bend, it will sway in the breeze
As the devil does his polka with a hatchet in his hand
As a sniper in the branches of the trees
As the vulture flutters down the snake sheds his dove
Wilhelm's cutting off his fingers so they'll fit into the glove
For Wilhelm can't wait to be Peg Leg's crown
And the briar is strangling the rose back down
The briar is strangling the rose back down

Now, George was a good straight boy to begin with
There's bad blood in him someway and he got into the magic bullets
That leads straight to Devil's work, just like marijuana leads to heroin
You think you can take them bullets or leave them, do you
Just save a few for your bad days
Well, well, we all have those bad days when we can't hit it for shit
And the more of them magics you use, the more bad days you have without them
So, it comes down to finally all your days being bad without the bullets, it's magics or nothing
Time to stop chippying around and kidding yourself
Kid, you're hooked, heavy as lead

And that's where old George found himself out there at the crossroads
Moulding the Devil's bullets
Now, a man figures it's his bullets, so it'll take what he wants
But it don't always work out that way
You see, some bullets is special for a single target - a certain stag or a certain person
And no matter where you aim, that's where the bullet'll end up
And in the moment of aiming the gun turns into a dowser's wand
And points where the bullet wants to go

George Schmid was moving in a series of convulsive spasms
Like someone in an epileptic fit
With his face contorted and his eyes wild
Like a lassoed horse bracing his legs
But something kept pulling him on
And now he is picking up the skulls and making a circle
I guess old George didn't rightly know what he's getting himself into
The fit was on him and it carried him right to the crossroads

Come on, people, gotta get on board
Train is leavin', there's a room for one more
God, don't listen to the devil, he got ways to move you
This train don't carry no smokers, this train

Well, come on people cos it's startin' to rain
Get on board, it's the gospel train, yeah

Don't listen to the devil now
People, don't listen to the devil
Satan will fool you
Satan will fool you
I said, Satan will fa-fool you
Well, this train don't carry no smokers
This train, this train

Come on, people, get on board
Train is leavin' and there's room for one more
Just trust in the Lord

INSTRUMENTAL

Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night
Oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night, oily night

The prettiest girl in all the world
Is in a little Spanish town
But I left her for a Bonnie lass
And I told her I'd see her around
But that Bonnie lass and her heart of glass
Would not hold a candle to bummin' around
So, don't cry for me, cos I'm goin' away
And I'll be back some lucky day

Well, tell the boys back home that I'm doing just fine
I've left my troubles and woe
So, sing about me for I can't come home
I've many, many, many more miles to go
Why, there's Miss Kelsey, she taught dance at our school
And old Johnny O'Toole, I still beat you at pool
So, don't cry for me, for I'm goin' away
And I'll be back some lucky day

Well, when I was a boy my daddy sat me on his knee
And he told me, he told me many things
And he said, "Son, there's a lot of things in this world
That you're gonna have no use for
And when you get blue and you've lost all your dreams
There's nothin' like a campfire and a can of beans."

Why, there's Miss Kelsey, she taught dance in our school
And old Johnny O'Toole, I'll still beat you at pool
So, don't cry for me, for I'm going away
And I'll be back some lucky day
So, don't cry for me, for I'm going away
And I'll be back some lucky day

I love the way the tattered clouds blow wind across the sky
As summer goes and leaves me with a tear in my eye

I'm taking out my winter clothes
My garden knows what is wrong
The petals of my favorite rose
In shadows dark and long

Though every year it's very clear
I should be carrying on
But I can be found in the garden singing this song
When the last rose of summer is gone
The last rose of summer is gone, gone

INSTRUMENTAL