Released in 2014

Drones of Democracy and Crooked Man Mixed by Chris Wardman

Drones of Democracy: “(lyrics/music: bergmann/’the loner’/chris wardman) “

Label: Polygram
1991
Producer / Guitar

#94 In Chart Magazines Top 100 Canadian Albums of All Time

Remember Her Name (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Susann Richter)
American Wife (Bergmann/Jamey Koch)
Message From Paul
Faithlessly Yours
Crackin’ Up
If She Could Sing
Baby Needs Oil (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Ray Fulber)

Label: Polygram
1991
Producer / Guitar

#94 In Chart Magazines Top 100 Canadian Albums of All Time Remember Her Name (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Susann Richter) American Wife (Bergmann/Jamey Koch) Message From Paul Faithlessly Yours Crackin’ Up If She Could Sing Baby Needs Oil (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Ray Fulber) I Can’t Change This World (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Susann Richter) Ruin My Life God’s Little Gift (lyrics: Bergmann/William Scherk, music: Bergmann) Art Bergmann: guitars and vocals Chris Wardman: guitars Jason Sniderman: piano, tape delay, organ, & keys Jamey Koch: bass Joel Anderson: drums Programming: Jason Sniderman & Chris Wardman Backing Vocals: Laura Hubert, Paul MacAusland, Jamey Koch, Cassandra Vasicek, Chris Wardman, Art Bergmann Words and music by Art Bergmann, except where noted. Produced by Chris Wardman. Recording and mix engineer: Ron Searles. Tracking assistant: Diana Eljabri Mix assistants: John Hurlbut (Wheels) & John Rodd Recorded and mixed at Manta Sound, Toronto, ON, April 1991 Mastered by Howie Weinberg at Masterdisk, New York Management: Sam Feldman & Jeff Rogers, c/o Sam Feldman & Associates, Vancouver, BC Art Bergmann (Polydor 511067-2)©, (p) 1991 Polygram Records of Canada Inc.

remember her name

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Susann Richter) Her first breath Is drawn through a cigarette Her first drink Last night’s scotch Just to wet her cracked lips She looks at the man beside her Lying in the bed She doesn’t know his name She only hopes he’s not dead She feels like Marianne Faithfull Marianne Faithfull She hopes at the end of the day Someone remembers her name She goes out for some late afternoon work Down in Times Square Maybe she’ll meet Steven Tyler On a double dare Turning tricks in a theater She’s a creature In her own double feature She feels like Marianne Faithfull Marianne Faithfull She hopes at the end of the this day Someone remembers her name At the end of the day Remember her name I do It’s Marianne Faithfull Marianne Faithfull Marianne Faithfull Marianne Faithfull On a good day Or a bad day

american wife

(Bergmann/Jamey Koch) A million American suits Fly to Eastern Europe They’re free now Deliver American know-how Teach ’em how to vote More like how to buy votes Burn it down Start all over again Watch the reunited Germans You know they make the best business men But we’ve got a billion hamburgers Free coke White collar criminals And money for dope Burn it down Start all over again You bed me You wed me American wife You led me You bled me American wife Burn it down The circus goes to Moscow And we’re gonna bring along a rock show They tell me Leningrad’s a-go-go So don’t be slow with the blow Joe Burn it down Start all over again Please don’t be waiting too long Please don’t be waiting too long

message from paul

(Bergmann) I really love your long blonde hair You know I love the way you stare Would you still take me back if I’m sent home from there If I mistake him for someone who could ever care I got my message from Paul It could mean nothing at all I got my message from Paul It could mean nothing at all Bells keep ringing in my ears A blue light snaps from eye to eye I was hoping you felt the same Or have I just gone Insane I got my message from Paul Like a New Testament call Like walking down the Damascus Road Under some kind of heavy load Bells keep ringing in my ears A blue light snaps from eye to eye I was hoping you felt the same Or have I just gone insane I got my message from Paul I got my message from Paul It could mean nothing at all Could it be better than watching your long hair fall

faithlessly yours

(Bergmann) God’s got an answer in that jukebox I pick the wrong song every time I know my song is in that jukebox And I’ve been suckered for the last time How could I be so silly How could I be faithlessly yours God hid an answer in her body I’ve been in the wrong room for so long I found no question in her body I’m in the room where I belong How could I be so silly How could I be faithlessly yours Now that the evidence is in Now that the evidence is in God placed an ad in her paper A cryptic clue without a crossword How could I have known she worked that paper The sweetest sound the world has heard How could I be so silly How could I be faithlessly yours

crackin’ up

(Bergmann) Who is it up there tonight Is that you in the spotlight Whose voice is coming out of that face Is that you or am I viewing tape Crackin’ Up Crackin’ Up Who are you trying to imitate Stop lying to me you’re tempting fate I’ve never been one who’s prone to violence But I’ve been keeping you under serveillance Crackin’ Up Crackin’ Up You’re just a memory that makes me go astray You’re just a memory that makes me go astray Crackin’ Up Crackin’ Up

if she could sing

(Bergmann) If she could sing I wonder what she’d say Would she do as I’ve done And put me on display Use me for fun As I have done As I have done She’d make me shudder and run If she could sing Just like me Would she bring Heartache and misery Throw me to the Huns As I have done As I have done She’d make me shudder and run Maybe there is something someone Could have said or done To change my mind I don’t think so this time When she finds her voice I’ll listen For a clue to what was missing When I placed the emphasis On mine If she could sing I wonder what she’d say If she could sing Just like me She would call me down She would call me down She would call me down She would call me down

baby needs oil

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Ray Fulber) I’ve uncovered an unearthly delight TV battles in my desert night A superbowl of candy missles in flight Tell me why are all the newsmen white My baby needs oil She’s been drinking like it’s going out of style My baby’s love’s on the boil She’s found a new land to soil I’ve uncovered an unearthly delight A million cars filled up on Exxon light My baby’s engine’s all rusted up tight She wants it every night My baby needs oil She’s been drinking like it’s going out of style My baby’s love’s on the boil She’s found a new land to soil Boys and girls sleep in my desert night A lover’s moon hangs in ghastly pale light Soldier’s wives sleep with Elvis tonight I’m just trying to demystify My baby needs oil She’s been drinking like it’s going out of style My baby’s love’s on the boil She’s found a new land to soil

I can’t change this world

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Susann Richter) January 15, 1991… I feel like gettin’ down on my knees and prayin’… I’m walkin’ straight to my lover… In the east end they’re comin’ down… I’ve made a big decision towards the other. Walking through Japantown… Watching bums steal fruit from sidewalk stands… Without ever getting caught. I’m thinking about what Knowlton Nash said on the National News… About some war correspondent… Talking from the front… The thrill of getting shot at and missed… Me, I’m supposed to be writing a hit. I can’t change this world It’s too dangerous for all the boys and girls All the creeps and the jerks that pass me and harass me… They think I’ve got something… Something more… Something to give them… I blame them. I put my ear to the ground and listen fro the sound of falling change… Get our my walker to look for a transfer to get out of range of people hating people for all weird reasons… Around the world they throw toys like an angry little brother in a sandbox… With the hatred of an unrequited lover… Or an envious kid sister. I can’t change this world It’s too dangerous for all the boys and girls Sit around all day just waiting for something clever to say… I’m losing my grip on this pen and feel like searching for my syringe again… Makes me hate my own song. I can’t change this world It’s too dangerous for all the boys and girls I can’t change this world It’s too dangerous for all the boys and girls I can’t change this world

ruin my life

(Bergmann) Ruin my life Open my eyes to the broad daylight Take me home Get me to bed by midnight Ruin my life Open my eyes to the broad daylight Take me home Keep me safe and warm Do what you like Unless your freedom is the price Take me home Keep me from all harm You say that I can do what I want Hey hey I’m not that strong You say that I don’t get it I’m ready to admit it That I can’t shake it off Ruin my life Hold your nose When I come back in a week in somebody’s clothes Smell this rose Keep me from an overdose Make me hope Make me hope I die when I get old Take my drugs And throw ’em out the window Change my bed, change my head Everything was going wrong until now Take every promise I’ve ever broken Turn them into a vow Is this ring really dipped In a thousand drinks I’d give it all up Just to sink inside her experience Ruin my life

god’s little gift

(lyrics: Bergmann/William Scherk, music: Bergmann) A neurotic old romance Is claiming young men No amount of destruction Will give you land Return to the holy land Let’s see what you’ve planned What do the chosen few Choose for you Soon we’ll be a page in your history But we will never meet again You think you’re God’s little gift to the world God’s little gift to the world We’re making advances Calling you up for national gain No amount of seduction Will ease the pain You’;ll never get much from me There’s just enough to go around You think you’re God’s little gift to the world God’s little gift to the world Just like a girl who screams in your ear With the secret of the year Here’s an army to fear They think they’re god’s little gift to the world God’s little gift to the world

Label: Duke St Records 1990 1. Bound for Vegas 2. Sexual Roulette& 3. Bar of Pain 4. The Hospital Song 5. Sleep 6. Dirge #1 * 7. Swamp Food Thing 8. Gambol 9. (She) Hit Me * 10. More Blue Shock 11. Death Watch Chris Wardman :: Producer / Guitar * Buy it on iTunes Canada #42 In Chart Magazines Top 50 Canadian Albums of All Time 42. ART BERGMANN Sexual Roulette (Duke Street; 1989)
Blood from needles, phonograph and otherwise, drip from each primal and poetic track. No sweet songs for sale, these are Bergmann’s tales of darkness culled from our deepest desires and dreams, bruised by life but still raging against the dying of the light. Since the late 1970s, his has been a gloriously gritty rock, the hissing cousin of Westerberg and Iggy, the soul shadow beside Neil and Cohen, a whirlpool of songs threatening to pull you under as they baptize. Not for safety seekers or those Bound For Vegas. For those who cling to rock so as not to sink into the depths. Art is salvation in a godless world.–James Muretich, rock critic, Calgary Herald Punk History Canada Bound For Vegas Sexual Roulette Bar of Pain* (Bergmann/Susann Richter) Hospital Song Sleep Dirge No. 1 Swamp Food Thing Gambol (She) Hit Me More Blue Shock Deathwatch http://artbergmann.com/albums/Sexual-Roulette-Art-Bergmann/ Art Bergmann: vocals, guitars Susann Richter: keyboards and BG’s, except Deathwatch Ray Fulber: bass Taylor Nelson Little: drums Background vocals on Bound For Vegas: Art, Ray, Susann, and Pauline Little. Chris Warman: upside-down wobble+12 string guitars on Dirge No. 1, bleed+T-rex guitars on (She) Hit Me, acoustic guitar on Bar of Pain. Jack Dekeyzer: slide guitar on Swamp Food Thing Words and Music by Art Bergmann, except (*) by Bergmann/Richter. Published by Top Side Charlie Music / Maximum Blues Music (PROCAN), except (*) Top Side Charlie Music / Maximum Blues Music (PROCAN) & S. Richter (PROCAN). Produced by Chris Wardman, arranged by Chris Wardman and Showdogs (Susann, Ray, Taylor). Recorded by Bill Kennedy at Profile Studios, Vancouver. Assisted by Steve Waines / Mike Plotnikoff Mixed by Ron Searles at Manta Sound, Toronto. Assistant/569 Nintendo – Brad Haehnel Mellotron+Operations course – Jim Blair Stunt Engineering/War Stories – Bill Kennedy Stunt Co-orindator – Chris Wardman Management: Sam Feldman, c/o Sam Feldman & Associates, Vancouver, BC Sexual Roulette (DSBBD 31062) ©, (p) 1990 Duke Street Records

bound for vegas

(Bergmann) Load up the trucks Don’t forget the make-up We’ve got the six semis For the money None for the show We’ve got our costumes ready Got to go go go Bound for Vegas Bound for Vegas Who’s got the map Who’s gonna navigate We’ve got six shows On the strip It’s a sellout Wayne Newton doesn’t Want us to be late It’s in my heart I’m making a financial start They call me the performer I guess they always will Call me the entertainer Don’t retire me yet I ain’t over the hill I ain’t had my fill It’s in my heart I’m making a financial start I’m a never was Trying to be a has-been A has-been on the come-back trail Come-back to me On the Vegas scene By the age of fifty Good-bye Vancouver, Good-bye Toronto Good-bye New York Even the St. Louis blues I said buy Detroit, buy New York Ain’t going Route 66 Give me I-85 Bound for Vegas Bound for Vegas It’s a sellout

sexual roulette

(Bergmann) This is my body What’s on your mind Are you giving me something To return love in kind This is my body I’m doing time Are you giving me something I’ll get in five years time What are the chances Of keeping my health Will you take advantage Play with the cards That you’ve been dealt What are the chances Of keeping my health What are the consequences Will I need professional help I have faith in you You will set me free I have belief in you You will set me free What on god’s flat earth Were you thinking of Will god’s love reign From above What in hell Were you thinking of Divine retribution Will god’s hate Rain from above

bar of pain

(Bergmann/Susann Richter) You’re just a fly hanging up on the wall In the bar of pain Waiting on my last call There’s damage in your eye There’s damage in your smile Reflections in my golden drink Reflections in your golden eye Bar of pain Not again I put my trust in you I put my trust in your I love you crazy But please don’t steal my stereo I let you in my house I let you in my house Steal around steal everything Like a cheesy mouse You shove me Into the breach Now you’re hanging on Like a bloody leach You shove me Into the breach Jesus, what a vision Within reach Bar of pain Not again I put my trust in you I put my trust in you Looking and looking Into each others eyes Just a couple of flies On a lowly cowpie

hospital song

(Bergmann) albums: Sexual Roulette + Design Flaw Yes I know What I’ve done And I know That it’s wrong Cuz I talked To your mom We watched you All night long I put a pillow Under your head Laid down some rags You’d read Friends sent cards And flowers Said they hoped You got well From your hospital bed To my padded cell There’s not one thing We need This is heaven and hell Maybe later We’ll get together Learn how to relax Maybe later We’ll get together And have a relapse I watch you sleep In your tubes And IV’s They kept your face So clean Would it seem Too mean If I pull the plug On your dream machine Would I be Losing you Or would we Meet again How I wish You knew How to live How I wish We’d known How to live

sleep

(Bergmann) album: Sexual Roulette I came in here Just looking For a friend Then I see you Surrounded by your Sycophants and fans You’re so good for me I’m so good for you I got in here By using your name It’s too bad Now you want to Allocate blame You’re so good for me I’m so good for you If you’re sick of the cocaine And driving around Until it’s all gone If you’re rick of the guys Who are so good at sex They can’t even come anymore I borrowed some money If you want to leave I don’t want to make you Uh-uh I don’t wanna Make you Let’s go to sleep

dirge no. 1

(Bergmann) For seven days and Seven nights I stayed up with him My best friend He’s a dog We stayed Down in the market We thought it was So cool Like little Jerusalem The chicken blood Ran in the gutters Man did it stink They played disco Of the ages It could turn a man Into a racist Anyway he says I’ve been burned so many times I’m going out tonight And kill every Black man i see I said “uh,uh Not me!” I have got A big confession I’ll be as clean As the new ss As orderly as a nurse Just like a doctor As clean As this earth So he took His favourite red knife Stuck it in Some dealser’s thigh Took all his dope What a mess My my He came back up To our flat Pulled a dirty fit Out of the garbage Came into my room He said “You’ve gotta help me” I said “Hello you old devil” And smashed him Right in the teeth I will be as clean as Christ on the cross I’ve been so dirty I will be as clean as Christ on your wall Restitution for everyone Who died along the way Having fun

swamp food thing

(Bergmann) From Finland To New Orleans You wouldn’t believe What I’ve seen People jump my train They jump my scene And it’s all For a plate of beans Food Been looking high Been looking low What gotta know is How low can you go I’m not a picky eater You know what i mean I like to lick My plate clean Psychotic women They abound You wouldn’t believe The men that I’ve found But I’m not a picky eater You know what I mean I like to lick My plate clean I know how hard It can be to find A friend at the end of the day If you can count them On two hands At the end of your life Consider yourself lucky Neurotic, Hispanic, Teutonic food Bubonic, psychotic, Germanic, blah, etc, food

gambol

(Bergmann) I like to gamble I’m not talking Sports or fucking real estate I like to gamble Take your blackjacks Russian roulette Or racing stakes I like to gamble I don’t like craps But your sanity will do Not like Rambo I’d prefer a little more Reality in my food If you please I like to travel I like the food i meet The people i eat Travel A trip out of town Or a nervous breakdown I’d rather straddle This razorblade Than sit on that fence Travel No matter where you live You’re still the same pig you’ve always been The money Burned a hole In his pants The money Burned a hole In his head I like to gamble That’s why I walk These streets All night every night I like to waffle Does a man like me Really need a wife I like to scramble Look for some Good German wine Or a good German knife I like to gamble What’s more important Your money Or your life

she hit me

(Bergmann) Janis never gave it Away freely But I knew we’d make it After one look in her eye Then we got all Touchy feely I’m impulsive Away we did fly I used to be convulsive Now I’m hap-hap-hap-happy She hit me At the speed of lightning Joanna always Kept her head up She was a nazi She caught me On the chin I never got fed-up You know I told her “I never hit women If you get any bolder I’m gonna have to be Tough tough tough” She hit me At the speed of lightning What will I call The girl this time The little harlot Is a real drug slut Now she’s a friend of mine She’ll forget about me Now that she’s in this song I knew all along That we were Wrong wrong wrong She hit me At the speed of lightning

more blue shock

(Bergmann) Is it really true? You’re not coming Round here no more No face at my door No jokes that had us Rolling on the floor You said you didn’t like The spare-ribs In the restaurant But I saw the papers The police gave you They charged you With assult Now you’ve got More blue shock more blue shock More blue pills more blue pills It reminded me of a friend They found him hanging From a light fixture In the middle of his room Just before breakfast Swinging in the gloom And I couldn’t help thinking This was gonna happen to you All screwed up in your head In your cell Swinging in the gloom More blue shock More blue pills Is it really true You’re not coming ‘Round here no more Locked up once And let out Never more More blue shock More blue pills

deathwatch

(Bergmann) albums: Vultura Freeway + Sexual Roulette It’s a new deal With the same deck of cards Any old play We’re fashioning new parts I get too nervous I can’t touch you now I get so excited But I’ll catch you somehow Try and make sense With a pair of loaded dice Is like having faith In some guy called Christ I get too nervous I can’t touch you now I get so excited But I’ll catch you somehow (Catch you somehow) Our luck Has now run its course Allwagers lost On a fast dark horse I get too nervous I can’t touch you now I get so excited But I’ll catch you somehow (Catch you somehow) It’s a crap shoot With you as victim Will you survive The odds are slim to none I get too nervous I can’t touch you now I get so excited But I’ll catch you somehow (Catch you somehow) When the waiting is over When the days are through And I relax with you We’ll fall in love Yeah, we’ll all fall in love Again (Yeah, right) Yeah, we’ll all fall in love when I piss on your grave ….???

Sony Music
Released 1995
Producer / Guitar

Plugged.com Review
Southam
News Review

#77 in Chart Magazines Top 100 Canadian Albums of All Time
WINNER :: Best Alternative Album Juno 1996
http://artbergmann.com/albums/What-Fresh-Hell-Is-This-Art-Bergmann/

Sony Music
Released 1995
Producer / Guitar

Plugged.com Review
Southam News Review

#77 in Chart Magazines Top 100 Canadian Albums of All Time
WINNER :: Best Alternative Album Juno 1996 http://artbergmann.com/albums/What-Fresh-Hell-Is-This-Art-Bergmann/ Beatles in Hollywood (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Genn) Another Train Song In Betweens (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Colin James) Buried Alive (lyrics: Bergmann/Sherri Decembrini, music: Bergmann/Wardman) Guns and Heroin Some Fresh Hell (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Genn/Wardman) Contract (lyrics and music: Bergmann/Wardman) Ms. Jones (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Genn) Demolished (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Genn) Nearer My God To Thee Dive Stop The Time (lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Genn/Drake) Art Bergmann: guitars, vocals Chris Wardman: guitar Dave Genn: keyboards Adam Drake: drums Don Binns: bass Anne Bourne: cello Ron Hawkins, Stephen Stanley: background vocals Jim Moore: bass on Beatles in Hollywood Words and music by Art Bergmann, except where noted. Produced by Chris Wardman. Engineered by Lenny Derose. Additional engineering by Brad Haehnel. Digital editing on sonic solutions by Chris Wardman & Brad Haehnel. Mastered by Howie Weinberg at Masterdisk, New York. What Fresh Hell Is This? (Ek 80208) ©, (p) 1995 Sony Music Entertainment (Canada) Inc. Epic is a trademark of Sony Music Entertainment (Canada) Inc.

beatles in hollywood

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Dave Genn) There are no absolutes to human misery Things can get worse, hm Humming in the wires No news is good news Sad children of the fates These homeless of the world Gathered here in this bar for a while To forestall going out in the world Yeah, I think of a million things As I ride through the night My dead dad above me I’m down the well If this is hell Turn up the heat If you’re the devil Turn up the god-damned heat I just wanted to be good Like the Beatles in Hollywood You’re a running, baby deer Caught in the headlights Have you ever really faced fear Like a butterfly in drying concrete Laying in the gutter facing the wrong way And the stars aren’t here anymore If I ever get off this bed I’ll believe in you I just wanted to be good Like the Beatles in Hollywood I’m so sick of cake I’m sick of health A drunken rage? Hey, I can do that straight Logically I could reason my way Right back to hell I could medicate myself Right back into a coma Religiously I cook(?) my habit Indulgently All the doctors in the town The nurses in the institution All the philosophers in the world All the priests in the suburbs Couldn’t tell me why Why the woman hurt If they only had a clue They convince you that There’s no such thing as luck You’re so fucked up You need a lawyer to become unstuck I just wanted to be good Like the Beatles in Hollywood Don’t ask me I’ve nothing to say Nobody cares about anybody else anyway I just wanted to be good Like the Beatles in Hollywood

another train song

(Bergmann) I saw you at the station Waving and smiling bye-bye No, I’ve never seen you so happy With a ticket in your hand On a train to the east No, don’t ever let me go Don’t let them make me say I told you so baby Baby, baby, don’t get in line Now look who’s crying I saw you on the platform Waving and smiling and looking so fine Your parents are so well informed You follow suit The blind leading the blind No, don’t ever let me go Don’t let them make me say I told you so baby Baby, baby, don’t get in line Now look who’s crying That’s the whole of the law Bye-bye Your parents gave you orders Cursed with a birth certificate A passport and a stamp You’re on a train crossing borders Machine gun nest Barbed wire blessed Holiday camp No, don’t ever let me go Don’t let them make me say I told you so baby Baby, baby, don’t get in line Now look who’s crying That’s the whole of the law Bye-bye That’s the whole of the law Bye-bye

in betweens

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Colin James) album: What Fresh Hell Is This? Hey you All dressed in black In your gravedigger clothes Are you down and dirty Superclean Do you save souls Be damned or saved I don’t like in betweens Black or white I need a girl who’s extreme My tongue goes slack I feel a strange affinity I start heavy breathing In your vicinity Are you damned or saved I don’t like in betweens Black or white I need a girl who’s extreme Are you taking me up Taking me down Dragging my name Through mud all over town Be damned or saved I don’t like in betweens Black or white I need a girl who’s extreme She’s a well-rounded girl With a happy face A renaissance girl Or a family disgrace Hey you All dressed in black In your gravedigger clothes Are you superclean Down and dirty Or do you save souls?

buried alive

(lyrics: Art Bergmann/Sherri Decembrini, music: Bergmann/Chris Wardman) Lead me down your garden path Show me my innocent past All the good things I thought were trash All the king’s horses All the queen’s men Couldn’t put me back together again Does it take a genius To understand She says don’t worry My whole life’s a crime Roll over me And I’ll bury you alive Practising students Offer up the cure All the liars talk That hang around here It was the longest day Of the year In my never-ending search For culture and bliss A cup of coffee And a morning kiss How could I ever think There was more than this She says so sorry My whole life’s a crime Roll over me And I’ll bury you alive All the king’s horses All the queen’s men Couldn’t put me back together again Does it take a genius To understand She says so sorry My whole life’s a crime Roll over me And I’ll bury you alive Don’t worry My whole life’s a crime Bury you alive Bury you alive Take me Off this earth For a while…

guns and heroin

(Bergmann) Some people never go out I understand why Need something to read about To spice up their lives Others we just can’t stay in No romance no matter how stricken Though poverty is not what it seems I can’t fathom fear So if I seem close to danger What does the bible say Nothing will ever change Safe in our beds Like the rich in their tombs Guns and heroin Guns and heroin Where did the money come from Two weeks out of prison Fifty dollars for a gun Turned into fifty thousand We met two mutual friends She’s a hooker I’m a musician He wants legitimate business God if he only knew it’s the same as… Guns and heroin Guns and heroin Tell me what is your reason for entering our fair state What is your purpose of crossing the border here today What is your business in this beautiful country What are your reasons for entering the USA Guns and heroin Guns and heroin

some fresh hell

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Dave Genn/Chris Wardman) You turn your friends Into your clientele Like a vampire newly-wed Now you’re needing Some fresh little hell Because you’re all nearly dead Knock, knock on my front door You need my money And you want me to score Knock, knock on my front door Give me more and more and more And more and more All your boys Are only sixteen years old You buy them all a car They deliver and collect All the gold They are your rising young stars Knock, knock on my front door You need my money And you want me to score Knock, knock on my front door Give me more and more and more And more and more My city has gone Look in my eyes It’s a bloodless coup An Easy-bake take-over Eastern flower power Penthouse apartment For the money to fill You know you love the smell Now there is just one More or less Story to tell And that is how you fell Knock, knock on my front door You need my money And you want me to score Knock, knock on my front door Give me more and more and more And more and more Like a vampire newly-wed All your brides are nearly dead Your friends Hell, yes, your clientele You take their money Because you love the smell Now you’re needing Some fresh little hell One more down One less story to tell One more down One less story to tell

contract

(Bergmann/Chris Wardman) I’ll pollute the world for you Do anything you want me to And I’ll salute your flag – as I do I do all this and enjoy it too I’ll be a real fine drag for you Create a heap of slag for you Mess up your girls – like you do I hang naked in full public view We got a contract, contract Who’s schmoozing who Yeah, I dig my own grave for you Be a total slave for you Go around the world for you Create a monster – and bring it too We got a contract, contract Who’s using who Contract, contract Who’s screwing who Contract, contract Who’s schmoozing who C-O-N-T-R-A-C-T I got my CEO salary What I got C-O-N-T-R-A-C-T I screw my home and family What you want C-O-N-T-R-A-C-T S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Let’s get together And have some drinks and discuss it Aw, heck, here’s a piece of my neck F-R-I-C-T-I-O-N Friction, friction I be a total drag for you Create a heap of slag for you Mess up your girls – like you do I create a monster – and eat it too We got a contract, contract Who’s using who Contract, contract Who’s screwing who We got a contract, contract Who’s using who Contract, contract Who’s screwing who Contract, contract Congratulations

jones

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Dave Genn) She gives me the jones Callin’ all the time She’s got the phone hooked Right into my main-line She gives me a loan She’s a walkin’ talkin’ Shatterin’ chatterbox Jones She’s got my number I’m goin’ under The click of her nails Tappin’ the phone It never fails It’s chills me to the bone She puts me back in jail And drags me ‘way from home She’s got my number I’m goin’ under Jones She gives me the jones It’s in her look The blink of an eye I’m in her book Makes me wanna cry My goose is cooked It makes me wanna die She’s got my number I’m goin’ under Jones She gives me the jones I don’t know why I can’t leave her On her own Maybe if I knew why I could find my way home She’s got my number I’m goin’ under She’s got my number We’ll never slumber Jones She gives me the jones Jones She gives me the jones

demolished

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Dave Genn) You got so wired What did you think Would happen in the first place You got so wired Didn’t think That you would fall from grace You got so wired Wasn’t it all so calculating You got so wired You used to hang on Every single word I’d say You’ll never break This demolition heart You wanna know what it’s like Everything is best kept quiet And a sordid past takes a poke At the future ‘Til the stars fall from the sky It looks the same Thrill me or fill me with shame A sordid past takes a poke At the future The things that are easiest said Don’t impress her What do we have in common Stare out the window And poke fun at all the silly folks What do we have in common Chain smoke cigarettes And sometimes sex It’s something You can recognize When you look Into your lover’s eyes

nearer my god to thee

(Bergmann) When you wake up every morning Just to face one more deadline Will you think back on me And admit you were the same kind When you stop all your denying That somewhere inside you There’s someone who’s like me too Who does the things I do When you finally make up your mind To stay for more than just one night Will we find out What you’re really like Isn’t that like me To lie, thieve, cheat, and steal For you isn’t that like you To come around and say I owe you Will you still love me When I’m nearer my god to thee Will you still love me When I’m nearer my got to thee When you’ve made All your arrangements To get out of your house And how to smash your plates and china To disavow your vows Smash your sacred cow Give me a nod of approval Show me a little sign That will make me stronger for you Knowing you’ve made up your mind Isn’t that like me To lie, thieve, cheat, and steal for you Isn’t that like you To come around and say I owe you Will you still love me When I’m nearer my god to thee Will you still love me When I’m nearer my god to thee When you finally make up your mind To stay for more than just one night We’re gonna find out What we’re really like Will you still love me When I’m nearer my god to thee Will you still love me When I’m nearer my god to thee

dive

(Bergmann) Got a mouthful of ashes And I got some rope You got a pocketful of plastic I guess you’ve never been broke Long-distance phone call From a noisy bar Says they’ll be digging Through your trash one day I said they already are Hush now baby Don’t you cry Dry your eyes Watch me dive Got a mouthful of ashes And I got some rope You got a pocketful of plastic Guess you’ve never been broke There’s no secrets No they don’t have one Watch ‘em find some food today Before it rots in the sun I long for the night Where I can hide Maybe dream up a life Instead of living this lie Yeah, I love the night I feel safe and warm inside Instead of living this lie Got a mouthful of ashes And I got a gun You got a pocketful of tragic You always had your fun Kid says where’s the car And where are you parked Hmm…maybe in the garage Where I was a star Hush now baby Don’t you cry Dry your tears And watch me dive

stop the time

(lyrics: Bergmann, music: Bergmann/Dave Genn/Adam Drake) Start the time Every morning In the rain My life is waiting Get on the bus Who could enjoy this Here on the bus Who will employ us I take the pains To avert my eyes There’s always a psycho With me in his sights I wish For just 5 minutes He’d be on my side I wish For just 5 minutes He’d be on my side Hide behind my paper An item in the news Some kid Got his head blown off Now he’s twenty-one forever A lucky guy Twenty-one forever He stopped the time Count the clocks Count the blocks Count the stops Until I get off I wish For just 5 minutes Stop the time