Is it true? Send it through Put the man in the room Clear the scene Make it clean Gonna need some light to work Is there time? Is there space? Detach the bolts from the case Now here's the parts All the parts All the pretty colored parts A hundred lines Watch the time Keeping pace with the count Making clicky clicky clicky with the grips of the pliers Here's the chart Shall we start? Are these instructions still good? Cross your fingers Cross your heart Cross the conductors and press hard, now: Collapse or structure Which way will it drop? When you cut the black wire Which beat will it stop? Cut the sound Knock it around Make sure the cords are taped down Put the eyes in the room Test the zoom and rig the boom We're counting back Keep on track Subtracting time with each fact Now here's the lines All your lines Hundred consecutive lines Is the message still good? How will we know when it's been heard? Check the signal Check the air Satellite throws from here to there No more time No more space No more data left to trace Hearing ticky ticky ticky till the second hand hits back Riot or quiet Which way will it drop? When you cut the black wire Which beat will it stop? Tap your finger Tap the mouse Tap your heel on the floor Tap the desk Tap the keys Tap knuckles to knees Too much time Too much space But not much air in the place Cannot leave Cannot stay Too many clocks in the way With every glance at the wall The clocks will grind to a crawl Beating ticky ticky ticky through the cracks of your shirt Another third of a day Another tick burned away The hourglass drains out with all the feet in the parking lot Werewolf or vampire Which way will it drop? When you cut the black wire Which beat will it stop? Here's your choice Shall we begin? Plug all the pieces back in Missed the start of the race Losing time Losing space Prepare yourself for the truth Get set to move Find the proof Can you push yourself through Or will you lay down and sleep? Now write the lines All the lines A thousand pretty little lines That have been clicking clicking clicking In the back of your mind Tap the wires Tap the keys Construct the construct by degrees Provide the faithful insistence Evidence of your existence Nothing or something Which way will it drop? When you cut the black wire Which beat will it stop?

The knobs on my FM receiver are broken and twisted 'Cause each time the goddamn DJ comes on, I kick it He says "All the hits, all the time, until the end of existence" But if he ever said the name of that goddamn song, well I missed it Now, that song's the perfect expression of all my frustrations But it hasn't even charted on the top one hundred in the nation Don't know how it got played on some godawful Clear Channel station All I remember about it is the chorus and a chord progression (Which went something like) Subtract the sum of you from me And what is left is me Subtract the sum of me from you And what is left is me In my Metro, the radio's taking the brunt of my cursing 'Cause it never plays that song and now the shotgun rider's conversing "Are you sure it was a song? It mighta been just a jingle" (he says) And no one says jack about an album or even a single Now no one in my tiny circle of friends has ever heard it Nobody's downloaded it - nobody has burned it I'd like a hint - I think by this time I've earned it I want a name - you'd think by this time I'd've learned it (You know - that song that goes) Subtract the sum of you from me And what is left is me Subtract the sum of me from you And what is left is me That song - it soothes my mind That song - it might save my life And I've been searching And I've been listening But I've been missing it I've been missing that song What is that song? At the Best Buy, I'm tearing up the shelves of the CD department And the clerk's got all the musical smarts of my Grandma She says "I never heard of that, it must not be so great if we don't have it" And she's cute but she can take her teenage attitude and cram it Now that song's the current cause of all my distractions Steering my thoughts, directing each of my actions Why has this fragment stuck in my head and gone wrong? How hard could it be to find one stupid pop song? (One that sounds like) Subtract the sum of you from me And what is left is me Subtract the sum of me from you And what is left is me

It's so easy, listening to your strategic complaint A silver history shot through with copper taste taint Decryption is solid but reception is faint It's so easy, listening to transcripts of the saint It's so easy, listening to your justification Painless instructions for brand new complication Clever broadcasts and crystal insulation It's so easy, listening to official implication IMPROVED - for greater consumption ENGRAVED - with the finest intention REMOVED - all trace of objection BEHAVED - no urge to mention It's so easy, listening to the sirens debate There are reasons for hiding on the plane of the slate A focus group cutting out all signs of the trait It's so easy, listening to the noise in the crate

I'm often urged to take a stand Invent a cause or invest in land But static lifestyle disturbs me Clinical movement for finder's fee I find no profit in iron-clad clauses Preferring random starts and pauses Turn left here at the next corner I'll explain more when it's over You've got ambition to intercede I've got the concept that you need Scatter ennui, fantasize Trap routine and euthanize You're learning how to follow plans I'll take the wheel in my own hands And when I decide to take any action Your only use will be for distraction Go tell the DJ, there's a bomb in the disco Go warn the band, that the stage is on fire Scream to the audience, the party's interrupted Announce on the airwaves then cut to commercial Lessons on movements that never end Dissect the disco, comprehend Collapsing questions you'll never hear You hold the camera while I steer We're heading home now back before light I think we're ready to call it a night Do I escape responsibility When I speak metaphorically Go tell the DJ, there's a bomb in the disco Go warn the band, that the stage is on fire Scream to the audience, the party's interrupted Announce on the airwaves then cut to commercial

I hit high school in the early eighties; Midwest intelligent and rurally cultured. Radio only told me of the Top Forty. Radio only told me of the classic rock. Radio wanted to tell me all about country but I didn't feel like listening. It would be a long time before cable TV would be able to tell me much of anything, not that I was paying much attention anyway. By this time, probably like you, radio had told me of the song "I Shot the Sheriff" - as played by Eric Clapton. It never occurred to me that Bob Marley had recorded the song before - fact was, at the time I didn't even have a name for that style of music, and I had no clue who Marley was. I consider myself fortunate that I even picked up on New Wave music at the time. The closest I ever got to reggae was Eddy Grant. You know, that song, "Electric Avenue"? I NEVER KNEW WHAT WERE REGGAE SONGS WELL I WAS CLUELESS WHEN I WAS YOUNG I DIDN'T KNOW ANY REGGAE SONGS I WAS SO STUPID WHEN I WAS YOUNG Well, a scattering of years later and I got me a bit of college and moved out to the West Coast. I got progressive and industrial and avant-garde all over the place. Radio and TV didn't tell me jack anymore, and I was searching out music that would make you flee in terror. So I'm working in a phone store in a mall in California and my co-worker says she's impressed with my musical knowledge, you know - right on, I am now the music guru. And since I know so much about all this strange music maybe I could help her. She wants to get an album for her boyfriend. She wants to know if I can suggest an album to get him. Well, what kind of music does he like? She asks if I can recommend any good reggae bands. Reggae's his favorite type of music, you know. My mind starts to whirl, seeking info that isn't there - and I say: Reggae? Like what - The Police? I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT REGGAE SONGS I WAS A MORON WHEN I WAS YOUNG I HAD NO CLUE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS I WAS A DUMBASS WHEN I WAS YOUNG Somewhere between one and two decades later, I'm back in the Midwest and I'm putting notes together for an album. I still am no reggae expert but I at least know it when I hear it. And I'm jotting down all the clever little song titles I might use, and thinking to myself, can I really make songs out of all these genres? I mean - ska, how the hell am I gonna make a song out of ska, right? Well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. So I'm looking at all these names, words to describe different styles of music, words that separate and define us, words that keep us apart, words that we use to tell each other, hey, I'm the cool one because I listen to this type of music and you don't, words that limit us, let us close our minds to all but one or two things, words that keep us stupid and small and alone, and I was thinking: You know, there's something to be said for when you were a kid, and you didn't care what type of music a song was, you just played the song, and it didn't matter what genre it was or who said it was cool, you liked it or you didn't and you waited for the next song to come along and you liked it or you didn't, and isn't there a lesson in there somewhere, that maybe if people weren't so damn worried about defining their lives through tiny little neat categories, maybe we could get along better, maybe we should get rid of all the labels and prejudice right now, maybe we could start with the music? I DIDN'T CARE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS I WAS SO CLEVER WHEN I WAS YOUNG DIDN'T CARE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS WELL I WAS BRILLIANT WHEN I WAS YOUNG I DIDN'T CARE ABOUT REGGAE SONGS I WAS A GENIUS WHEN I WAS YOUNG I WAS A GENIUS WHEN I WAS YOUNG I WAS A GENIUS WHEN I WAS YOUNG I WAS A MADMAN WHEN I WAS YOUNG I WAS FANTASTIC WHEN I WAS YOUNG I WAS A MONSTER WHEN I WAS YOUNG I WAS AMAZING WHEN I WAS YOUNG!

Coats were thick out on the corner They were watching someone crawl It was half past "never mind, now" When they finally made the call And when they made it to the lobby There wasn't anybody there Had to scratch it off the clipboard Had to dust an empty chair Ask me if I'll take the rap for you Ask me if I'll take the fall The fact you even ask the question Says that you don't know me at all A sober book of snapshots Helped to catalog the sting They left to fax the info To a rumored office wing Left your anchors in a pawnshop Burned a bridge to hide your trail They found your strategy for transplant Suffocated in the mail Ask me if I'll take the rap for you Ask me if I'll take the fall The fact you even ask the question Shows you never knew me at all An outlet at the airport The ATM in the bar A U-Haul south of Rosemont Some spare change on the tar Saw a problem in the parking lot I slipped out of 403 Never found who wrote the e-mail Couldn't trace it back to me Saw you take the rap out there I watched you take the fall Never got to ask the question Guess you never knew me at all

If I were honest I guess I'd find Simple thoughts and a selfish mind And on my list is underlined: I'd like the freedom to be unkind I'd like a girlfriend who'll never leave Revenge on all those who gave me grief I want salvation without belief I want to give less than I receive That's what I want for Christmas That's all I want for Christmas I'm so tired Tired of being good I'd like the wealth and the mind control I want this album to steal your soul Each tiny jealousy to get consoled Each petty fantasy to get paroled So wrap the gifts in lovely style It's Christmas in just a little while If you could go just that extra mile Your sacrifice is what makes me smile That's what I want for Christmas That's all I want for Christmas I'm so tired Tired of being good