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| Imagine a madhouse, with every criminally insane outcast throwning fits of rage. Imagine these outcasts with guitars and drums, and now try to picture them with a college education. That is kind of what the Pixies sound like. I'm convinced that Black Francis, the lead singer, is a lyrical genius. Consider these lyrics from "Cactus:" |
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| "Sitting here wishing on a cement floor/Just wishing that I had just something you wore/I put it on when I go lonely/Will you take off your dress and send it to me?/ I miss your kissin' and I miss your head/And a letter in your writing doesn't mean you're not dead/Run outside in the desert heat/Make your dress all wet and send it to me/ I miss your soup and I miss your bread/ And a letter in your writing doesn't mean you're not dead/So spill your breakfast and drip your wine/Just wear that dress when you dine Bloody your hands on a cactus tree/Wipe it on your dress and send it to me. |
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