Your Lucky Day In Hell [Eels]
Red Right Hand [Nick Cave]
Mama gripped onto the milkman’s hand
And then she finally gave birth
Years go by and still I don’t know
Who shall inherit this earth
And no one will know my name until it’s on a stone
This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell
Waking up with an ugly face
Winston churchill in drag
Looking for a new maternal embrace
Another tired old gag
Am I just a walking bag of chewed up dust and bones?
This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell
Father teresa you can’t make me into you
I never wanna be like you
Why can’t you see? it’s me
You know it’s time to let me go
This could be your lucky day in hell
Never know who it might be at your doorbell
This could be your lucky day in hell
Take a little walk to the edge of town
Go across the tracks
Where the viaduct looms,
like a bird of doom
As it shifts and cracks
Where secrets lie in the border fires,
in the humming wires
Hey man, you know
you’re never coming back
Past the square, past the bridge,
past the mills, past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes
a tall handsome man
In a dusty black coat with
a red right hand
He’ll wrap you in his arms,
tell you that you’ve been a good boy
He’ll rekindle all those dreams
it took you a lifetime to destroy
He’ll reach deep into the hole,
heal your shrinking soul
Hey buddy, you know you’re
never ever coming back
He’s a ghost, he’s a god,
he’s a man, he’s a guru
They’re whispering his name
across this disappearing land
But hidden in his coat
is a red right hand
You ain’t got no money?
He’ll get you some
You ain’t got no car? He’ll get you one
You ain’t got no self-respect,
you feel like an insect
Well don’t you worry buddy,
cause here he comes
Trough the ghetto and the barrio
and the bowery and the slum
A shadow is cast wherever he stands
Stacks of green paper in his
red right hand
You’ll see him in your nightmares,
you’ll see him in your dreams
He’ll appear out of nowhere but
he ain’t what he seems
You’ll see him in your head,
on the TV screen
And hey buddy, I’m warning
you to turn it off
He’s a ghost, he’s a god,
he’s a man, he’s a guru
You’re one microscopic cog
in his catastrophic plan
Designed and directed byhis red right hand