B A C K

Naked Eye [11/05/96; The Who]

Take a little toke and walk out in the air.
The stars are all connected to the brain.
Find me a woman and lay down on the ground.
Her pleasure comes falling down like rain.
Get myself a car, I feel power as I fly,
Now I'm really in control.
It all looks fine to the naked eye,
But it don't really happen that way at all,
Don't really happen that way at all.

Don't happen that way at all.

You sign your own name, and I sign mine.
They're both the same, but we still get separate rooms.
You can cover up your guts, but when you cover up your nuts,
Your admitting that there must be something wrong.
Press any button, and milk and honey flows.
The world begins behind your neighbor's walls.
It all looks fine to the naked eye,
But it don't really happen that way at all.

Don't happen that way at all.
Don't really happen that way at all. [2X]

You hold the gun and I hold the wound,
(Abnoxious Fan: Fuck you!
Eddie Vedder: Yeah, you too. It's no big deal, I mean,
I don't have to be here. That's OK because
I'm just gonna finish the song and watch the Fastbacks.)

You hold the gun and I hold the wound,
And we stand looking in each other's eyes.
Both think we know what's right, both know we know what's wrong.
We tell ourselves so many, many lies.
We're not pawns in any game, we're not tools of bigger men,
There's only one who can really move us all.
It all looks fine to the naked eye,
But it don't really happen that way at all.

Don't happen that way at all.

TOP || "N" list

Noise of Carpet [varios dates; Stereolab]

I hate to see your broken face,
This world will give you anything,
As long as you will want to.... [2X]

TOP || "N" list

Nothing As It Seems [ 10/31/99 ]

Don't feel like home...ease a little out. (he's a little odd?)
And all these words alone...it's nothing like your poem.
Putting in and putting in...don't feel like methadone.
A scratching voice all alone is nothing like your baritone.

It's nothing as it seems. The little that he needs...it's home.
The little that he sees is nothing he concedes...it's home.

One uninvited chromosome...a blanket like the ozone.

It's nothing as it seems. All that he needs...it's home.
The little that he frees is nothing he believes...

Saving up a sunny day...something maybe two-tone.
Anything of his own...a chip off the cornerstone.
Who's kidding? Rainy day...a one way ticket headstone.
Occupations overthrown...a whisper through a megaphone...

It's nothing as it seems. The little that he needs...it's home.
The little that he sees is nothing he conceives...it's home.
And all that he frees...a little bittersweet...it's home.
It's nothing as it seems. The little that you see...it's home.

TOP