The Fall online - Discography (2024)

Someone's always on my tracks
In a dark room you see more than you think
I'm out of my place, got to get back
I sweated a lot, you could feel the violence

I've got shears pointed straight at my chest
And time moves slow when you count it
I'm better than them, and I think I'm the best
But I'll appear at midnight when the films close

Cause I'm in a trance
and I sweat
I don't want to dance
I want to go home.

I couldn't live in those peephole places
They might get to know my actions
I'd run away from toilets and faeces
I'd run away to a non-date on the street

Cause I'm in a trance
and I sweat
I don't want to dance
I want to go home.

I feel trapped by mutual affection
And I don't know how to use freedom
I spend hours looking sideways
to the time when I was sixteen

Cause I'm in a trance.

I'm frightened.
Amphetamine frightened

I go to the top of the street
I go to the bottom of the street
I look to the sky, my lips are dry....

We are the Fall
Northern white crap that talks back
We are not black
Tall
No boxes for us
Do not f*ck us
We are frigid stars
We were spitting, we were snapping "Cop Out, Cop Out!"
as if from heaven

Sucker X 9

No stars in the zone
I stay at home
I live on snacks
Potatoes in packs

I like to blow...
I like to blow....
I like to blow
Concentration zone

The years go in circles
the years go in circles
Hopes goes, I'm gone
Smoke comes, i go

A spurs fan, a warrior
happy no-hoper
Dull, manage
I think slow

Sucker, blow

I'm searching for the now
I'm looking for the real thing, yeah

Head through a blue haze
Waiting for the musical craze
We gotta taxi for Mr. Nelson
Taxi for Mr. Nelson

Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox, oh

No sounds at first came out
This machine had dropped out
But it made music to itself
Made music for itself

Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox now

I'm looking for the home of the real
I want a happy time now

Drinkers from the slaughterhouse
Weren't happy and went out
Noise resounds aloud
Noise resounds the lounge

Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox oh

I sidled up to a fruit machine
This I was imagining:
Some drinkers dancing at the bar
Drinkers dancing for the bar

Rebellious Jukebox yeah
Rebellious Jukebox now

I'm searching for the now
I'm looking for the real thing yeah

The X in X-mas is a substitute crucifix for Christ
No Christmas for John Quays

The powders reach
And the powders teach
And when you find they can't reach
There is no Christmas for junky

He thinks he is
More interesting
Than the world
But buying cigs
Puts him in a whirl

A packet of three-five fives
555
A packet of those over there
And 20 special offer cigars

Found talking to the cigarette machine
Into nicotinic acid
Good king Wenceslaus, he looked out
Silly bugger, he fell out

He spits in the sky
It falls in his eye
Then he gets to sit in
Talking to his kitten

And talking about Frankie Lymon

Tell me why is it so?
Tell me why is it so?

Out of his face with The Idle Race
Out of the room with his tune

Although the skins are thin
He knows its up to him
To go out or stay in

I'll stay in
I'll stay in

You
Me
X-Mas
X-Mas

There is no Christmas for junkies
No girls
No curls
Just the traffic passing by
Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye
1,2,3,4

No X-mas for John Quays

Er, what's this song about?
Er, nothing

None
No recipes
It was like a see-saw
No
It was like an up and down
Bye bye
Mother, Sister
Mother, Sister
Why did you put your head in?

Reach or preach
It's all a diminished return
Now
Floorboard
Creaks

Mother, Sister
Mother, Sister
Why did you push your head in?

Astray
Our Friends
And the fathers are underground
Your mouth is sold out

Mother, Sister
Mother, Sister
Why did you put your head in?

The pylon

Get off the Ind. Est.
Get off the Ind. Est.

Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate

Well you started here to earn your pay
Clean neck and ears on your first day
Well wetap one another as you walk in the gate
And we'd build a canteen but we haven't got much space

Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
And the crap in the air will f*ck up your face
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Boss can bloody take most of your wage
And if you get a bit of depression
Ask the doctor for some valium

Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate
Yeah, Yeah, Industrial Estate

(Your nervous system, your nervous system)
(Underground medicine, underground medicine)

A spark inside
[Traverse up my hide]
And when it clicks
There's no resist

Every time I hear a new baby cry
I thank my spark inside

And you get underground medicine
Underground medicine
I'm but a nervous system
Underground medicine

I found a reason not to die
A reason for the ride
The spark inside
When it hits the mind you get
Underground medicine
Underground medicine
I'm but anervous system
Underground medicine

I had a psychosomatic voice
And one time it might come back

Underground medicine
Underground medicine
I'm but anervous system
Underground medicine

On my pants I spilled expectorant
And the colonel shot better with 30 pints
They took his cup away
Take it away, take it away
[Used to 'ground] medicine
[Used to 'ground] medicine
[Used to 'ground] medicine

Everybody likes me
They think I'm crazy
Pull my string and I do my thing

Two Steps Back

I don't need the acid factories
I've got mushrooms in the fields
Julian said "How was the gear?"

Two Steps Back

Had a look at the free festivals
They're like cinemas with no films
You could make a fire with the seats
You could boil up some cigar [cig-ah!] dimps
Or get into the sound
Wait for the ice cream to come around

Two Steps Back
Two Doors Down

I meet my old friends there
They queue up for cash there
They are part Irish
They have no conscience
They get threatened by the cracker factory

Two Steps Back

Cracker Factory:
A place where you get into the working routine again
Rehabs for no hopes
Prefab for jobless dopes

We're still one step ahead of you
I still believe in the R and R dream
R and R as primal scream

Tied to the Puritan Ethic
Nonsympathetic to spastics
After all this, still a lonely bastard

Eggheads, boneheads, queue
Queue for them
We were early and we were late
But, still, live at the witch trials....

I was in a sleeping dream
When a policeman brought my mother home
By the window I didn't scream
I was too old for that

I was in a drunken dream
The pubs were closed
It was three o'clock
At the bottom of the street it seemed
There was a policeman lost in the fog

I understand but I don't see it
I understand but I don't see it
I understand but I don't read it
Futures and Pasts

You can cry for your lost childhood
Will you cry for our lost childhoods?
But remember how you hated it
And worse cause you couldn't state it?

And it's time for the note, see it
And it's time for the note, say it
And it's time for the note, read it
Futures and Pasts

Look at the woman of thirty-nine
Look at the man of forty-nine
You can read their lousy lives
You can see their ugly face lines

They understand but they don't see it
They understand but they don't see it
I understand but I don't read it
Futures and Pasts

I understand but I don't see it
I understand but I don't see it
I understand but I don't read it
Futures and Pasts

Oh aye you're a good lad
Here is a pound note
The stupid bitch
They were made for each other

You should have met his brother
His mother was deaf and dumb

Well that stupid get
Played games with names
Of the place he'd worked
Of the women he tupped

He thought he were envy of the music scene
Part of the choosy scene
Envy of the music scene

Here comes long hair for the fair
No pay just take on the way
Those bastards stripped me bare
In front of all those people

Spat peanuts in my hair
And all the leaves are brown

And be part of the music scene
Envy of the choosy scene
Part of the music scene

And aye you're a good lad
Oh here is a new flat
That stupid twat
Made for each other

You should have met his brothers
Real f*ckers
That stupid kid
Played games with names
All the gigs he'd worked
And the women he'd f*cked

He was part of the music scene
Envy of the choosy set
Part of the music scene

Leave a mark on the city
I'll smash your doors down
Become a demolition worker
A metal construction worker

And behind our conscious minds
Our affections are turning grey

Yeah, we're part of the music scene
Envy of the choosy scene
Part of the music scene

Part of the music scene
Part of the choosy scene

6 minutes!

6:40!

OK, studio, that's plenty