River of Deceit, by Mad Season, 1994
My pain is self-chosen At least, so the prophet says I could either burn Or cut off my pride and buy some time A head full of lies is the weight, tied to my waist The river of deceit pulls down, oh oh The only direction we flow is down Down, oh down Down, oh down Down, oh down Down, oh down My pain is self-chosen At least I believe it to be I could either drown Or pull off my skin and swim to shore Now I can grow a beautiful shell for all to see
The music for "River of Deceit" came out of rehearsals that the group had before vocalist Layne Staley joined the band. Much of "River of Deceit", lyrically, was inspired by The Prophet by Khalil Gibran, which Staley read during the making of the album. Drummer Barrett Martin said, "Layne Staley felt as though he was on a spiritual mission through his music. Not a rock mission, a spiritual mission." Staley also wrote the song partially about his drug addiction which would eventually lead to his death in 2002.
Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns, from Mother Love Bone's 1989 "Shine"
Chloe don't know better Chloe just like me, only beautiful A couple of years of difference But those lessons never learned Chloe danced the tables in the french quarter She always been given so I can't always make her laugh But I'm proud to say And I won't forget Time spent laying by her side Time spent laying by her side And dreams like this must die And dreams like this must die And dreams like this must You ever heard the story of Mr.Faded Glory? Say he who rides a pony must someday fall Been talkin' to my alter Say life is what you make it And if you make it death well then rest your soul away Away away yeah child It's a broken kind of feeling She'd have to tie me to the ceiling A bad moon's a comin' better say your prayers, child I want to tell her that I love you But does it really matter? I just can't stand to see you dragging down Again Again My baby again, oh, yeah So I'm singing And this is my kinda love It's the kind that moves on It's unkind and leaves me alone Yes it does And this is my kinda love It's the kind that moves on It's unkind that leaves me alone I uses to treat you like a lady Now you're a substitute teacher This bottle's not a pretty, not a pretty sight I owe the man some money so I'm turnin' over honey You see Mr.Faded Glory is once again doin' time, oh yeah And this is my kinda love It's the kind that moves on It's the kind the leaves me alone Yes, it does And this is my kinda love It's the kind that moves on It's the kind that, it's the kind that It leaves me alone, yeah Like a crown of thorns It's all who you know, yeah So don't burn your bridges woman 'Cause someday, yeah Kick it, oh yeah And this is my kinda love It's the kind that moves on It's the kind that leaves me alone, yeah This is my kinda love It's the kind that moves on It's the kind that, it's the kind that, yeah, yeah Baby I said com' on, com' on, com' on com' on yeah I said baby Don't burn your bridges, woman Don't come back here I said good times, tu tu tu Tu tu tu I said tu tu tu
"Chloe Dancer" is about lead singer Andy Wood's muse/fiancee, Xana La Fuente, who had planned to be a stripper to support the pair, but left the club after one hour. "Crown of Thorns" was written about their nasty breakup over his on and-off-again dabbling in heroin and alcohol. "This song is about a relationship ruined by drugs," she explains. "He wrote it about our near breakup, and how I tried to control him and the drugs--hence his allusion to being tied to the ceiling."
Wilma's Rainbow, from Helmet's 1994 "Betty"
You heard about, 'be your own man' You talk a lot and loud Illustrate the obvious boy You're mentally endowed Watershed year comes You're flush with fever The richest junk dealer Honestly, a book you read once let you Think in rhyme. the old extreme sits Pale and molds now for the Millionth time Wilma's rainbow of peaceful colors The richest junk dealer
Björk - Hyperballad
We live on a mountain Right at the top There's a beautiful view From the top of the mountain Every morning I walk towards the edge And throw little things off Like car-parts, bottles and cutlery Or whatever I find lying around It's become a habit A way to start the day I go through all this Before you wake up So I can feel happier To be safe up here with you It's real early morning No-one is awake I'm back at my cliff Still throwing things off I listen to the sounds they make On their way down I follow with my eyes 'til they crash Imagine what my body would sound like Slamming against those rocks When it lands Will my eyes Be closed or open?