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Collecting Brel - Vol. 2

by Collecting Brel

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Aria Of Stupidity - Single, The Good Lord (Le Bon Dieu) - Single, Collecting Brel - Vol. 1, and Collecting Brel - Vol. 2. , and , .

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1.
One day, one day the Devil came to earth One day the Devil came to earth to look over his interests He heard everything, the Devil He heard everything and he saw everything And after the Devil had heard everything and seen everything He went back to his home... down there And down there they had a great feast And at the end of the great feast the Devil rose form his position at the head of the table And he gave this speech... It's so good. Their children all take guns to school Their streets are all full of whores It's so good Their men amuse themselves like fools With dangerous games like the war\ It's so good Trains derail without a sound Because their boys are full of ideals They got tired of being pushed around So they put bombs on the rails It leads to deaths full of sin When people die without confessing It's so good Nothing's sold and all is bought Like love and honour and holiness It's so good Their criminals all run the courts And their Government's stuck in it's own mess It's so good Their adults steal the dollars Saved for children and their babies And Europe's starting to play the miser In the 21st century It leads to deaths from starvation The starvation of nations It's so good Men have all seen too much They close their eyes on everything It's so good There are lovers out there who don't dare touch And singers who're afraid to sing It's so good They treat their men like mules And they worship stupidity They read the papers full of fools And Praise the bastards on TV And yeah, it hursts the honest men But who cares about them? It's so good
2.
To be a good lady patroness You must remain vigilant For as we see from history The poor want to overthrow the nobility And a stitch inside out And a stitch the right side up A stitch for St Joseph A stitch for St Thomas To be a good lady patroness You must manage your own charity The Duke Elbeuf knew it through and through From the old, we must fashion the new To be a good lady patroness You must be very very careful And when you let the peasants in your house You must check them on their way out To be a good lady patroness You must be kind, but never weak And so I had to cross of my list A poor girl who was seeing a Socialist To be a good lady patroness Knit your donations in the colour of goose shit And then at church you can survey all the pews To see the peasants that belong to you
3.
My childhood passed by In grey silence In false reverence And a lack of fights In winter I was held In the belly of a big house That had thrown down its anchors In the weeds in the south In spring half nude But completely modest I became a red Indian Already completely certain That my uncles had stolen The far west from me My childhood passed by With women in the kitchen Dreaming of china Growing old on the side Men at the table Enveloped in smoke Strong, wise and thoughtful And they thought that I was a joke Me who every night Arpeggiated all my sorrow Praying to a god I’d never know At foot of a double bed I wanted to go on an adventure I haven’t been on yet My childhood passed by From maid to maid I was always surprised When they never stayed I was surprised once again To be part of this family Strolling from death to death Without having time to grieve I was surprised and shocked To be one of this flock Being seen but never heard Learning to cry myself to sleep I had the eyes of the shepherd But the heart of the sheep Then my childhood blew up Here was adolescence And the wall of silence One morning tumbled down Here was the first flower The first cheer The first lover The first fear 
I was flying I swear I swear I was flying My heart was opening wide I was no longer uncivilised Then the war arrived And here we are tonight
4.
Before the hairless asses there was liberty, Even the flower and the bird were free. But now they’ve arrived all the plants have been put in pots And the birds are all in cages if they’re not already shot. Because they invented prison and the condemned, Criminal records and innocent men. They cut their own tongues to protect the nobility Even though they claim to act with civility, The apes, the apes, the apes of our society. Oh, before them there were no problems: Bananas could be eaten any time, including Lent. But then they arrived with their intolerance And the God-given will to stop other people’s intolerance. For they’re the ones that started the Templar crusades, The hunt for infidels and the purchasing of slaves. And then those who don’t want to hunt are treated with hostility. Because that’s what they call civilised society, The apes, the apes, the apes of our society. Before them man was a prince, Woman was a princess and love was a province But since they’ve arrived the province is in drought, The prince is a tramp and the princess sells herself. They invented love which is a sin. Love which is a business, the business of virgins Where a man’s worth is valued by his virility And then they claim to act with civility! The apes, the apes, the apes of our society. Before them there was peace on Earth For every ten elephants there was only one soldier But then they arrived and the elephants have all been beaten And the reason of the state chased away the real reasons. They invented all the instruments of torture, The electric chair, the Nazi gas chambers, Bombs full of napalm and all other atrocities And that’s since they’ve had that ‘civility’! The apes, the apes, the apes of our society.
5.
Take care, little one, be alert In the fields below, making his way through the reeds Between the sky and the dirt A man is coming little one, and I don’t know him Take care, little one, be alert He could be a neighbour, or a traveler gone astray A remnant of the war, an old gypsy selling lace Or he might be a priest with some lies to embrace Come to take up our lives Or my brother who’s come to tell me it’s time To leave our past behind Or is it just the sky that’s reflected on the sand That’s formed a mirage just to waste my time Take care, little one, be alert In the fields below, making his way through the reeds Between the sky and the dirt A man is coming little one, and I don’t know him Take care, little one, be alert I don’t think he’s a neighbour because his horse is too fine And he can’t be a soldier - all of our soldiers have died And he can’t be a priest because his horse is too poor And he’s not a merchant as his horse is too light and his clothes are too white And no traveler ever follow that path Because no-one comes here, and no-one ever comes back Take care, little one, be alert In the fields below, making his way through the reeds Between the sky and the dirt A man is coming little one, and I don’t know him Take care, little one, be alert No it’s not my brother, because his horse would have turned No it’s not my brother, he wouldn’t ever dare return Because there’s nothing here for him - not even a shred No it can’t be my brother, my brother is dead That midday shadow would be more tormented - if it was him So it must be the sky that’s reflected on the sand That’s formed a mirage just to waste my time Take care, little one, be alert In the fields below, making his way through the reeds Between the sky and the dirt A man is leaving and we’ll never know him Take care, little one, be alert Dry your eyes little, little one, see him run The man we’ll never know You can lower your gun
6.
They grow old in little steps They turn from lions into little pets The Bigoted And they age even faster Confusing love with holy water Like all the bigoted If I was the devil watching them I think I’d have myself castrated If I was god hearing them pray I think I’d lose my faith Because they’re bigoted They progess in little steps As they confess, and they confess The bigoted The gossip and they bitch Until my ears begin to hiss The bigoted They dress in black just like the priest Who’s too friendly with the bad kids They’re bigots with lowered eyes And they think that god hides behind the lids Of the Bigoted On weekday nights after work We see the labourers return But not the bigoted Because they’re deep down inside their homes Trying not to have fun The bigoted Yes they prefer to shrivel up From church to church, to mass to mass And they’re totally proud to keep their diamond up their ass The bigoted And they die in little steps And slowly pile up into little heaps The bigoted And we carry then to the graveyard In the early morning cold The bigoted And in the heavens that don’t exist The angels create a paradise And with a halo, and two small In tiny steps they fly The bigoted
7.
Childhood Who can say when it's ended? Who can say when it starts? It was nothing if not intended It wasn't just a work of art Childhood Who can stop us from living? Living it forevermore. All the clocks are unforgiving And all our pages have been torn Childhood Will lead us to ageing As it makes old children of us Our hearts are full, our heads are nothing When we're young and in love Childhood, childhood... Childhood We were all once dreamers And we'll dream again I'm sure Though some of us are schemers All of our riches make us poor Childhood Now you've gone time goes so fast And Sunday never occurs You'll make cowboys of the middle class And all adults are deserters Of childhood, childhood...
8.
You live on Madonna Street In a house that sways around In a house that's wrinkled but it's sweet Where the floorboards lay on solid ground The spiral stairs are rather neat It's not big but it has class You live on Madonna Street And me, I've come to read the gas Your boudoir is full of buddhas The candles dance in the candelabra It smells good, there's no drama The air it streams with taffeta The room's filled up with photographs Of you and your friends just having a laugh You've got a boudoir full of buddhas And I've only come to read the gas You've got the divan of a king A divan fit for a diva A dresser that's piled up with rings And bottles of expensive liquor You've got a small dog and a big cat Your record player's playing jazz You've got the divan of a diva, And I've come to read the gas You have tits, tits like suns Tits like fruit, tits like sugar You've got tits just like melons, Tits like fruit, like a trigger You cover them up and it gets dark But when I see them I feel like pegasus You've got tits, just like suns And me I've come to read the gas In the waiting room, there's the plumber Whose grinding up the coffee beans, There's the waiter and a horny vicar, A mailman wearing torn-up jeans The mayor's pouring cheap vodka Into the old, crippled soldier There's the cops, and the hand of my sister And they've all come to read the gas So everyone come to Madonna Street, Forget about the Sunday Mass Come on down to Madonna Street And say that you've come To read the gas...

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released March 1, 2019

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Collecting Brel Bristol, UK

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