Get all 11 Superintendent Idle Tiger releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Troubled Makers, 1-offs, The Human Heart Is Not All There, A Minor Writer, Sweeping Tendrils, Karl Marx Swimwear Line, Liverman, The Case for Planning your own Funeral, and 3 more.
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In a luxury condo
In downtown Toronto
The concierge narrows his eyes
You don’t care what he thinks
So you give him a wink
He coughs but he lets you inside
The holy curator
The divine masturbator
Is a holder of several degrees
In leisure and tourism
Pleasure and voyeurism
And what people do when they’re empty
See this prophet on fire
Arrows of desire
The shaft sticking out of his heart
You’re a silly old fool
If you think he looks cool
Or you think that it’s good for your art
A man begs a woman
Please, when I’m coming
Tell me this is what death will be like
She says don’t take the piss
It will be more like this…
And she leaves him alone in the dark
This is erotic misery,
It’s the worst type of misery and I should know
Here’s Mariana
Struck with erotomania
She waits for a rap at the door
She went deranged
In her moated grange
Now no-one can come any more
St. Augustine’s mother
Giving him bother
Wringing his soul to confession
The bad restoration
The poor compensation
For working the oldest profession
This is magical mystery. So?
It’s a right fucking misery, and I should know
Here’s Robert Johnson
Alone in his kitchen
Really, that guy is the worst
It’s not very fun
When the man with the gun
Tries to convert you to Christ
The Jewish-Canadian
Departed ladies’ man
Says your hard-on will drive you insane
The greasy Athenian
A stupid comedian
Has let the thing high-jack his brain
This is erotic misery,
You keep fucking your misery everywhere you go
Pierrot Lunaire
Nobody cares
The moon takes her pleasure alone
If you’re living in sin
Or you live in a bin
It’s still fun to wallow at home
The security guard
With his torch glowing hard
Is pointing out all the mistakes
With your tinder replies
And your kinder surprise
Just give it a tap and it breaks
All you now know
Is all in the show
And this is where all of it ends
If you’re getting it wrong
Just keep banging along
And sooner or later it ends
You’ve seen enough miseries
For a BBC miniseries
On love and perpetual sorrow
So you leave the museum
Singing a te deum
For all nature’s necessary horror
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2. |
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The unrecorded losers of the old western frontier
rose up from their ghost towns and spat blood into the dirt
The mediocre psychos from the old clapboard saloons
those shitfaced shit couldn’t shoot for shit and that’s why they got shot
The unacknowledged cowards from the Mexican terrain
apologize unreservedly to the scary gringo’s mule
The unimpressive posses from the western border towns
Rode into the sunrise with the devil at their heel
And they said Oh,
we can see we’re not wanted here
just give the word my dear
and we’ll return where we’re from
we will not go down in history
for dying of dysentery
on some pointless trail, no big deal
The illegitimate belligerents of unlegendary wars
felt guilty in the morning every time they killed a man
The unsuccessful rustler of a sick and bony horse
would rather not ride out today ’cos he’s scared to be alone
And he said Oh,
I can see we’re not wanted here.
This is not our frontier,
not where we belong, we’ve gone so wrong
We will not go down in history
for dying of dysentery
on some pointless trail, no big deal.
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3. |
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He helped us like a gentleman
He said he just does what he can
He was the sad American,
That's when Rick was here.
Predicted by a Spanish seer,
O coraje, fuerza, te quiero
Always quite the quiet hero
That's when Rick was here.
A cigarette between two friends
A line of crosses in the ground
A broken gun, a bleeding wound
But Rick could save the day.
Defending Catalonia,
Guns to Ethiopia
He's moodier and mopier
Now he's gone away.
And he was someone that you'd trust, of course
With the facial features of a fine and noble horse.
We're on our knees in front of Franco,
I've heard he's in Casablanca
With some collaborator wanker,
Rick's no longer here.
The songs of spring are perishing,
This infinitely gentle thing
Was infinitely perishing,
Rick's no longer here.
Who'll fight the Fascists?
Workers, artists, amantes, anarquistas, Marxists
You can't fight them when you're heart-sick,
Everyone agrees.
The basic error in the bone:
Not wanting love, but love alone.
I guess that he was error-prone,
The same as you and me.
Send a message from the station when the shooting ends.
The city's fallen and they're rounding up my friends.
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4. |
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To skewer the true sewer rat, Marat,
I left home last week on the wings of the black bat
night, I was feeling alright
I saw the king’s horses covered in shite
from the bilious bowels of the bourgeoisie
and a stray dog pissing on the liberty tree.
Came into Paris through northern France,
The circus master of circumstance,
The towns were amass with merchants, nervous
knobhead nobles here to serve us.
Hey mister colonist give me some sugar
bring me bread from the palace and fish from sewer
My stomach churning some bread with cheese on
in Notre Dame I said a prayer to Reason:
When you're standing next to a Mountain
would you kill a man to save a hundred thousand?
Crush the pest of the people
I’m good bad but I’m not evil
leave the cathedral.
Now I’m on the staircase at his place
sitting in wait for the scabby old head-case
Drip, drip, drip, drip
The dribbling mouth of the Jacobin club,
the people’s penis shriveled in a tub --
Bash through the back-door abracadabra
you bath time bastard I’m gonna stab ya.
He scribbles in the bath like a wriggling sea-snake
Suck my blade you scaly fuck-cake
Oh for fuck’s sake
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5. |
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Welcome to the Jacobin Club
The entranceway is stained with blood
But if you believe in brotherhood
You’re in! You’re in!
Welcome to the Jacobin Club
There's a great big bouncer on the door
But if you recognize equality before the law
You're in! You're in!
Francois, come to say hello
He was our servant years ago
He used to slop the shit out then
But now we call him citizen
Here’s Robespierre, he’s a lawyer
Off his tits on paranoia
So every man will be a free man
He legislates like a demon
Danton’s puking in the bogs
Saint-Just creeps around on drugs
Everyone is having it large
Everyone wonders who’s in charge
Welcome to the Jacobin Club
There’s a big fat bouncer on the door
But if you recognize equality before the law
You’re in! You’re in!
Welcome to the Jacobin club
If you’re a friend of liberty
Then we won’t call security
You’re in! You’re in!
Welcome to the Jacobin club
If you think that Reason is supreme
If you think that slaves are human beings
You’re in! You’re in!
Welcome to the Jacobin Club
The entranceway is stained with blood
But if you believe in brotherhood
You’re in! You’re in!
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6. |
A Little Parcel
06:10
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I was sent here heaven-bent, heaven-bent, heaven-bent.
The bison charge to paradise and the landlord charges rent.
With my mind narrowed by travel I shuffled through the gravel
In one place at twice. It wasn’t very nice.
The muskox dances round the music box down by the docks,
Harrowed to the marrow by the antic arctic fox.
I stagger round collecting things that might be useful, like an early
Settler in a video game. I wonder why I came.
And I am going to die with my hotel bills unpaid.
And I am going to die with my hotel bills unpaid.
To attract a mate the bull uses his Theremin (I think that’s what he
uses) if confused then he will simply use his juices.
I crossed myself and then I crossed my other self – now why did I do that?
Let’s say I felt sarcastic and just let’s leave it at that.
And I am going to die
With my telephone bills unpaid
The wilderness ridiculous with white wolves waitresses attending
Postage stamps stuck here and there across the arctic floor
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