EBENDA the original soundtrack to the film - Lyrics

 

 

 

  BACK

DEPUTY ANDY

(by Michael Szedenik)

 

speak up, all I hear’s bicycle Bebop bands and you’re just out of my sight
those heard-ache songs make my day, my mode and living to an instructing narrative.

 

guess what they’re telling on TV
we should just talk things through.
we should behave a bit more like adults
but they don’t know better.
still all you want to know is when I
is when I leave you.

 

help me Doc.! Is it true that there’s a place in every heart?
so I booked all the rooms.
and if I caused a broken heart, I would return it if I may.
his demon's on my way.

 

guess what they’re selling on TV
we should just talk things through
we should behave a bit more like adults,
invite us to love and share it.
still all you wanna know is when I,
is when I leave You.

 

this is Europia.
is Deputy Andy here?, I’m dead.
this is Europia.
is Deputy Andy here?, I’m dead.

 

 

 

  BACK

THE FISH
 

there’s a fish in the sea
that keeps staring at the silver ceiling.
take my apology
I don’t know what to say everything’s a feeling

 

I don’t need your bicycle because I can swim.
I don’t need your bicycle because I can swim.
I can swim.

 

there’s a fish in the sea.
the importance of eastern karma import
for the fish, you and me.
the importance of german industrial export.

 

I don’t need your bicycle because I can swim.
I don’t need your bicycle because I can swim.
I can swim.

 

 

 

  BACK

 

PULP

 

pull that revolver out of your vagina, and don’t swallow those sleeping pills now.

 

women cross the streets on zebra stripes, holding the right hand of their children and the left hand of their thoughts, they buy their magazines in supermarkets, high quality print, and their ideas in supermarkets, canned, and their medicine in the pharmacy.

 

stultification in the armchairs, art is all for free, just keep chewing on your chewing gum until you cannot tell the flavor, until you bite your lips and taste the blood, and it feels so natural, natural, natural, natural to you.

 

lactated by the undernourished up to the third day when the neon-light-Christ scintillates on top of a gas station, but nobody is talking, they’re all so afraid of talking, they are so afraid of mistakes, mistakes, just in general, so we all go out on the balcony to have a smoke.

 

the drumming of a heartbeat, a pupil in the dollhouse window, glorified unarmed resistance, but who is sleeping in your unarms tonight, when the child brings the garbage downstairs, I want some nicotine.
this is Pulp.
Pulp.
this is Pulp.

 

romantically out in the trashcan, fame to all those feminists, success is fashionable, birthstrike is no option at all, for class has vanished while an army of individuals is waiting for a new trend so neutral, neutral, apart from being millionaires they cannot think of much themselves, they don’t dare to take sides until the washbasin is blocked and they call out for another child to bring the garbage downstairs.
Pulp.
this is Pulp.
this is Pulp.

 

nuclear waste for the Atlantic, plastic for the poor, salt water-standard amount for drainpipes, rely on your insurance. Political correctness steals you word for word, word, word, who defines it?, when you read lipstick on a mirror and a journalist dies, while you have a decent conversation with the established intellectuals, bring them their papers and drink their tea, but if you need assistance, consult the military, not me.

 

 

 

 

  BACK

THE MUSEUM

 

I’m gonna see you at the museum
all those pictures on the walls and only me knowing it’s you,
all the time
time
time
time.
I’m gonna see you at the museum.
sitting on an empty floor, naked walls and skin and
monetary value
storage
room for
recognition
present
past
pisces
china
libra
lyba
non
line
border
line
line
line
color
line
line
line
line
I’m gonna see you at the museum.
I never asked you to be my muse, and now you’re so amused and laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

  BACK

CAPITANA ÈLISE

 

dream me a Day,
I can’t tell you what I’ve read in Chinese papers.

 

because of oranges,
and absolute peace.
because of You and Me,
Capitana Èlise.

 

dream me the war.
I sleep with you again, so close the window.

 

just all for Oranges
on vines in lines and trees.
just all for You and Me,
Capitana Èlise.

 

and so you love her now,
and you remember her plea.
you sleep under her command
Capitana Èlise.

 

 
 

 

  BACK

SKY TO SKY

 

the long hallways in a hospital
from the walls they tick the time
to pass you by while you wait for it to pass
by the plastic “caution-wet-floor” sign.

 

a fish is swimming in your coffee cup.
so you refill it once more.
you feed it on sugar and electric light,
while the fish hits its head against the china shore.

 

Sky
Sky
Sky
Sky to Sky

 

you lost your language to a childhooddream

 

as you let him cut off your dress.
you press your pupil flat against the window pane,
so bored by orgasms and success.

 

Sky
Sky
Sky
Sky to Sky
Sky
Sky
Sky
Sky to Sky
Sky to Sky

 

 

 

 

  BACK

ATLANTIC

 

how I love your certainty
we go swimming in the Atlantic.
salt pearls in your evening tea
and we go swimming in the Atlantic.
You are the Chairwoman of the champaign parade tonight.

 

I’m gonna quit my mother’s drugs,
this is my own thoughts on the Atlantic.
we got all the time when the drains plugged
to keep on swimming the Atlantic.
You are a Goddess with your birth control and cigarettes today.

 

so take off your evening dress
and dancing shoes for the Atlantic.
my love for you is such a mess
so come out swimming in the Atlantic.