The Media Funk

Hype my name till it's just a noise
and make me king of all the boys
well bless my boots here's a healthy young mule
drinking deeply from a bladder of vitriol
got the flesh of a prophet on contention's bones
got a deathwatch beetle in his ideal home
got a tongue that could bruise a grinding stone
and a plastic leech bleeds him when he picks up the phone

Quite a dancey one. It is a cowritten song and the last line of the first verse (above) is also used in the introductory part of Tail in the Slipstream (Obscenity). GG

This track can be heard at the beginning of programme 4 (May 3, 2006) of Homemade Alien Music, a series of podcasts of cassette music of the 80s and 90s from the archive of US cassettist Hal McGee. GG

This track is included on Press My Hungry Button.

The media funk

Hype my name till it's just a noise
and make me king of all the boys
well bless my boots here's a healthy young mule
drinking deeply from a bladder of vitriol
got the flesh of a prophet on contention's bones
got a deathwatch beetle in his ideal home
got a tongue that could bruise a grinding stone
and a plastic leech bleeds him when he picks up the phone

Listen good and see what you think
my baby aborted her soul in the sink
she screamed from the bathroom with a potent abuse
my coiffure's gone crazy and my girdle is loose
complacent saints advertising their gods
and they'll purge you of your sins with your master's birch rod
you know his teaching but you don't know his name
and the lines on his palm are the rules of his game

Excuse him his fist to shelter his virtue
the code of his honour as the cat it may hurt you
all the prophets, the madmen, the saints and the rebels
have forgotten their sayings, but the people keep praying
they traded their history for featureless pebbles
they may cut their knees but the children keep playing
the pebbles that drop on the plains of their grace
an index to measure a space from a space

You're everybody's glass demeanour
you're the pain in every soul
get your ladle out of my mouth
and put it in my begging bowl

[chorus]

Tonight I go down to the dark side
to leave my morals in the lurch
to leave my money in a box by the door
and see an old buddy from a hole in the floor
well I laughed and I cried in all the right places
cheered and I jeered at all the right faces
never could do nothing much I nothing could do well
but I'm the legend of the southern vowel
and brother can I sell

[chorus]