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 (P) (C) 1993 ISLAND RECORDS INC. 74321 16822 2;

All songs published by Copyright Control except where noted

@ Recorded by Tchad Blake at Prairie Sun Recording Studios, Cotati, CA;
second engineer: Joe Marquez

@@ Recorded by Gerd Bessler at Music Factory, Hamburg, Germany

All songs mixed by Biff Dawes at Sunset Sound Factory, Hollywood, CA;
second engineer: Mike Kloster
All songs arranged by Tom Waits except "The Black Rider", "Black Box Theme",
"'T 'Ain't No Sin", "Just The Right Bullets", "Flash Pan Hunter", arranged by
Tom Waits and Greg Cohen. "Interlude" written and arranged by Greg Cohen,
"Flash Pan Hunter (Intro)" arranged by Greg Cohen. "The Briar And The Rose"
arranged by the Devil's Rhubato Band.
Mastered by Ken Perry at A&M Studios, Hollywood, CA
Many thanks to: Greg Cohen, Ludwig Von Otting, Wolfgang Weins, Robert Wilson,
Gerd Bessler...the human pincushion, Byrd Hoffman, William Burroughs,
Francis Thumm, Dieter Fischer and Jurgen Flimm

Production coordinator for Prairie Sun recording sessions: Teresa Jones

Album cover concept and art: Robert Wilson

Design: Christie Rixford

Photography: Paul Schirnhofer, Ralf Brinkhoff, Hermann J. and Clarchen Baus


        (OVERTURE)

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  Harry's  Harbour  Bizarre  is proud to
present, under the Big  Top  tonight,  Human  Oddities.  That's
right,  you'll  see  The Three Headed Baby, you'll see Hitler's
brain, see Lea Graff the German midget who sat in J.P. Morgan's
lap.   You'll see Priscilla Bajano, the monkey woman, Jo Jo the
dog face boy. I'm Milton Malone, the human skeleton. See  Grace
McDaniel's, the mule faced woman, and she's the homeliest woman
in the world. Under the Big Top tonight, never before seen, and
if  you  have a heart condition, please be warned. Don't forget
to  visit  our  snack  bar  at Charleston Grotto. All sales are
final. Void were prohibited by law. You'll see Sealo  the  seal
boy  who  has flippers for arms, you'll see Johnny Eck, the man
born  without  a  body.  He  walks on his hands, he has his own
orchestra and is an excellent pianist. See  Gerd  Bessler,  the
human pincushion, and don't forget it's ladies night at Harry's
Harbor Bizarre. You'll see Ko Ko the bird girl,  Mortando,  the
human  fountain,  step  a  little  a  little  closer ladies and
gentlemen and don't be shy, dig deep in  your  pockets.  You'll
see  Radion  the  human torso, Deep from the jungles of Africa.
Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  Harry's  Harbor  Bizarre.  Ladies  and
Gentlemen.

Tom Waits - vocal, coliope
Ralph Carney - sax
Bill Douglas - bass
Kenny Wollesen - percussion
Matt Brubeck - cello
Joe Gore - banjo
Nick Phelps - french horn
Kevin Porter - trombone



Come on along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time
Lay down in the web of the black spider
I'll drink your blood like wine
        So come on in
        it ain't no sin
        take off your skin
        and dance around in your bones
So come along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time

Anchors away with the Black Rider
I'll drink your blood like wine
I'll drop you off in Harlem with the Black Rider
Out where the bullets shine
        And when you're done
        you cock your gun
        the blood will run
        like ribbons in your hair

So come along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time

Come on along with the Black Rider
I've got just the thing for thee
Come on along with the Black Rider
I want your company
        I'll have the veal
        a lovely meal
        that's how I feel
        May I use your skull for a bowl
Come on along with the Black Rider
We'll have a gay old time

Greg Cohen - bass, percussion, banjo, viola
Tom Waits - organ, vocal



No shadow
No stars
No moon
No cars
November
It only believes
In a pile of dead leaves
And a moon
That's the color of bone

No prayers for November
To linger longer
Stick your spoon in the wall
We'll slaughter them all

November has tied me
To an old dead tree
Get word to April
To rescue me
November's cold chain

Made of wet boots and rain
And shiny black ravens
On chimney smoke lanes
November seems odd
You're my firing squad
November

With my hair slicked back
With carrion shellac
With the blood from a pheasant
And the bone from a hare

Tied to the branches
Of a roebuck stag
Left to wave in the timber
Like a buck shot flag

Go away you rainsnout
Go away blow your brains out
November

Tom Waits - piano, banjo, vocal
Greg Cohen - bass, accordion
Don Neely - saw



There is a light in the forest
There is a face in the tree
I'll pull you out of the chorus
And the first one's always free

You can never go a hunting
With just a flintlock and a hound
You won't go home with a bunting
If you blow a hundred rounds

It takes much more than wild courage
Or you'll hit just the tattered clouds
You must have just the right bullets
And the first one's always free

You must be carefull in the forest
Broken glass and rusty nails
If you're to bring back something for us
I have bullets for sale



Why be a fool when you can chase away
Your blind and your gloom
I have blessed each one of these bullets
And they shine just like a spoon

To have sixty silver wishes
Is a small price to pay
They'll be your private little fishes
And they'll never swim away

I just want you to be happy
That's my only wish
I'll fix your wagon and your musket
And the spoon will have his dish

And I shudder at the thought of your
Poor empty hunter's pouch
So I'll keep the wind from your barrel
And bless the roof of your house

 Matt Brubeck - cello
 Kenny Wollesen - percussion
 Joe Gore - banjo
 Ralph Carney - bass clarinet
 Tom Waits - vocal, piano
 Larry Rhodes - bassoon
 Bill Douglas - bass
 Francis Thumm - organ



Tom Waits - chamberlain
Don Neely - saw
Bill Douglas - bass
Matt Brubeck - cello
Kenny Wollesen - percussion
Nick Phelps - french horn
Larry Rhodes - bassoon
Joe Gore - banjo



When you hear sweet syncopation
And the music softly moans
T' 'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones
When it gets too hot for comfort
And you can't get an ice cream cone
T' 'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones
Just like those bamboo babies
Down in the South Sea tropic zone
T' 'ain't no sin to take off your skin
And dance around in your bones

William Burroughs - vocal
Tom Waits - marimba, emax
Greg Cohen - bass clarinet, emax


        (intro)

Henning Stoll - contra bassoon
Stefan Schafer - bass
Volker Hemken - clarinet



That's the way the stomach rumbles
That's the way the bee bumbles
That's the way the needle pricks
That's the way the glue sticks
That's the way the potato mashes
That's the way the pan flashes
That's the way the market crashes
That's the way the whip lashes
That's the way the teeth knashes
That's the way the gravy stains
That's the way the moon wanes

Hans-Jorn Braudenberg - organ
Henning Stoll - viola
Stefan Schafer - bass
Volker Hemken - clarinet



I fell asleep down by the stream
And there I had the strangest dream
And down by Brennan's Glenn there grows
A briar and a rose

There's a tree in the forest
But I don't know where
I built a nest out of your hair
And climbing up into the air
A briar and a rose

I don't know how long it has been
But I was born in Brennans Glenn
And near the end of spring there grows
A briar and a rose

I picked the rose one early morn
I pricked my finger on a thorn
It had grown so high
It's winding wove the briar around the rose

I tried to tear them both apart
I felt a bullet in my heart
And all dressed up in springs new clothes
The briar and the rose

And when I'm buried in my grave

Tell me so I will know
Your tears will fall
To make love grow
The briar and the rose

Hans-Jorn Braudenberg - organ
Henning Stoll - viola
Stefan Schafer - bass
Volker Hemken - clarinet



Tom Waits - emax strings
Matt Brubeck - cello
Linda Deluca - viola
Bill Douglas - bass
Kathleen Brennan, Clive Butters, Tom Waits,
Francis Thumm, Joe Marquez - boots


        (ORCH)

Linda Deluca - viola
Nick Phelps - french horn
Larry Rhodes - bassoon
Kevin Porter - trombone
Ralph Carney - bass clarinet
Joe Gore - guitar
Kenny Wollesen - percussion
Bill Douglas - bass
Matt Brubeck - cello



I'll shoot the moon
Right out of the sky
For you baby
I'll be the pennies
On your eyes
For you baby
I want to take you
Out to the fair
Here's a red rose
Ribbon for your hair
I'll shoot the moon
Right out of the sky
For you baby
I'll shoot the moon
For you
A vulture circles
Over your head
For you baby
I'll be the flowers
After you're dead
For you baby
I want to build
A nest in your hair
I want to kiss you
And never be there
I'll shoot the moon
Right out of the sky
For you baby
I'll shoot the moon
For you

Kevin Porter - trombone
Francis Thumm - organ
Bill Douglas - bass
Ralph Carney - sax
Kenny Wollesen - percussion, marimba
Joe Gore - guitar
Matt Brubeck - cello
Tom Waits - vocal



The flash pan hunter sways with the wind
His rifle is the sound of the morning
Each sulfurous bullet way have it's own wit
Each cartridge comes with a warning
Beware of elaborate telescopic meats
They will find their way back to the forest

  For Wilhelm can't wait
  To be Peg Leg's crown
  As the briar is strangeling
  The rose back down

His back shall be my slender new branch
It will sway and bend in the breeze
As the Devil does his Polka
With a hatchet in his hand
As a sniper in the branches of the trees
As the vulture flutters down
As the snake sheds his dove
Wilhelm's cutting off his fingers
So they'll fit into his glove

  For Wilhelm can't wait
  To be Peg Leg's crown
  As the briar is strangling
  The rose back down

Ralph Carney - bass clarinet
Matt Brubeck - cello
Joe Gore - banjo
Larry Rhodes - bassoon
Bill Douglas - bass
Francis Thumm - organ
Kenny Wollesen - percussion
Don Neely - saw
Tom Waits - vocal



Now, George was a good straight boy to begin with, but there was bad blood
in him someway he got into the magic bullets and that leads straight to
Devil's work, just like marywanna leads to heroin You think you can take
them bullets or leave 'em, do you? Just save a few for your bad days.

Well, now we all have those bad days when you can't hit for shit.

The more of them magics you use, the more bad days you have without them.
So it comes down finally to all your days being bad without the bullets.
It's magics or nothing. Time to stop chippying around and kidding yourself,
kid, you're hooked, heavy as lead.

        And that's where old George found himself. Out there at the crossroads,
        íolding the Devil's bullets. Now a man figures it's his bullets, so it will
        hit what he wants to hit. But it don't always work that way.

        You see, some bullets is special for a single aim. A certain stag, or a
        óårtain person. And no matter where you aim, that's where the bullet will
        eðd up. And in the moment of aiming, the gun turns into a dowser's wand,
        aðd point where the bullet wants to go.

(George Schmid was moving in series of convulsive spasms, like someone with
an epileptic fit, with his face distorted, and his eyes wild, like a lassoed
horse, bracing his legs but something kept pulling him on. And now he is
picking up the skulls and making the circle.)

I guess old George didn't rightly know what he's getting himself into,
the fit was on him and it carried him right to the crossroads.

Tom Waits - guitar, chamberlain, vocal
Greg Cohen - bass
Gerd Bessler - viola



Come on people
got to get on board
Train is leavin
and there's room for one more
God, don't listen to the devil
He got ways to move you
this train don't carry no smokers
this train...

Well come on people
cause it's startin to rain
get on Board it's the gospel train
Don't listen to the devil
Don't listen to the devil
Satan will fool you
Satan will fool you
I said Satan will fool you
well this train don't carry no smokers
this train
this train
wooo
wooo

Come on people: get on Board
Train is leavin
and there's room for one more
just trust in the Lord
wooo
woooo
woooo

Listen to me
come on people
cause it's starting to rain
get on Board
ride the gospel train
Don't listen to the Devil
he got ways to move you

Tom Waits - train whistle, vocal, conga, log drum
Greg Cohen - percussion, bass
Ralph Carney - bass clarinet
Bill Douglas - bass



Henning Stoll - bassoon
Christoph Moinian - french horn
Volker Hemken - clarinet



Matt Brubeck - cello
Kenny Wollesen - percussion
Bill Douglas - bass
Ralph Carney - sax, bass clarinet
Nick Phelps - french horn
Kevin Porter - trombone
Larry Rhodes - contra bassoon
Joe Gore - banjo, guitar
Linda Deluca - viola
Featuring "The Boners"



The prettiest girl
in all the world
is in a little Spanish town
but I left her for a Bonnie lass
and I told her
I'd see her around
But that Bonnie lass
and her heart of glass
would not hold a candle

to bumming around
so don't cry for me
for I'm going away
and I'll be back some lucky day

Tell the boys back home
I'm doing just fine
I left my troubles and woe
so sing about me
for I can't come home
I've many more miles to go

Why there's Miss Kelsey
you taught dance at our school
and old Johnny O'Toole
I'll still beat you at pool
so don't cry for me
for I'm going away
and I'll be back some lucky day

Now when I was a boy
My daddy sat me on his knee
And he told me
He told me many things
And he said son
There's alot of things in this world
You're gonna have no use for
And when you get blue
And you've lost all your dreams
There's nothin like a campfire
And a can of beans

Why there's Miss Kelsey
She taught dance at our school
And old Johnny O'Toole
I'll still beat you at pool
So don't cry for me
For I'm going away
And I'll be back some lucky day

Tom Waits - organ & vocal
Bill Douglas - bass
Ralph Carney - baritone horn
Matt Brubeck - cello
Kenny Wollesen - percussion
Joe Gore - guitar



I love the way
The tattered clouds
Go wind across the sky

As summer goes
And leave me
With a tear in my eye

I'm taking out my winter clothes
My garden knows what's wrong
The petals of my favorite rose

Be in the shadows dark and long

        Ôhrough every year
        It's very clear
        I should be used
        Ôo carring on
        ×ut I can be found
        In the garden
        Singing this song

When the last
Rose of summer is gone

Tom Waits - organ, vocal, chamberlain
Greg Cohen - bass



Tom Waits - chamberlain, emax
Greg Cohen - bass



Once  upon  a time there was an old forester who lived with his
wife and his daughter. And when it came time for  his  daughter
to  marry he chose for her a hunter, for he was getting old and
wanted to maintain his legacy. But his  daughter  was  in  love
with  another  and  sadly he was not a huntsman, he was a clerk
and the father  would  not  approve  of  this  union.  But  the
daughter  was determined to marry the man she loved so she said
to him, "if you can prove your marksmanship  as  a  hunter,  my
father will allow us to marry".

And  so  the clerk went out to the forest and he took his rifle
and he missed everything he aimed at and only  brought  back  a
vulture.

The  father  disapproved  and it seemed hopeless, but the clerk
was determined to triumph. So the next  time  he  went  to  the
forest  the  devil appeared to him and offered him a handful of
magic bullets, and with these bullets he could hit all the game
he aimed at even with his eyes closed. But the devil warned him
that  "some of these bullets are for thee and some are for me".
And  as  the  wedding  day  approached,  the clerk began to get
nervous as there was to be a shooting contest and he was afraid
he needed more magic bullets. Although warned that "the devil's
bargain is a fool's bargain". He went to the crossroads and the
devil appeared as before and gave him one more magic bullet. On
the day of their wedding, the clerk took aim at a wooden  dove,
and  with the devil looking on, the bullet circled the crowd of
guests and hit its mark not the wooden dove. But the bride, his
only  love  and  the  clerk  ended up in an insane asylum stark
raving mad and joined all the other  lunatics  in  the  devil's
carnival.

---------------------------------------------------------------



Kuno, Old Forester                Îeinz Vossbrink
Pegleg                            Dominique Horwitz
Bertram, Forester                 Gerd Kunath
Anne, his wifå                    Angelika Thomas
Kathchen, his daughter            Annette Paulmann
Wilhelm, Clerk                    Stefan Kurt

Robert, Hunting Boy
Man On Stag
Georg Schmid                      Klaus Schreiber

Old Uncle
Dukå                              Jorg Holm

Bird, Messenger, Spoonwomað       Sona Cervena

Witness, Bird, Shrink,
Wilhelm's double, Skeletoð        Monika Tahal

Young Kuno, Bird,
Shrink, Skeletoð                  Jan Moritz Steffen

Bridesmaid, Pegleg's doublå       Susi Eisenkolb


direction and stage desigð        Robert Wilson
music and lyrics                  Tom Waits

texts                             William Burroughs
musical director                  Greg Cohen
musical arrangement               Greg Cohen/Tom Waits
costume desigð                    Frida Parmeggiani
light desigð                      Heinrich Brunke/Robert Wilson
sound desigð                      Gerd Bessler
translatioð                       Udo Breger
dramaturg and translatioð         Wolfgang Wiens





Once upon a time there was an old forester who lived with his wife and
his daughter. And when it came time for his daughter to marry he chose
for her a hunter, for he was getting old and wanted to maintain his
legacy. But his daughter was in love with another and sadly he was not a
huntsman, he was a clerk and the father would not approve of this union.
But the daughter was determined to marry the man she loved so she said
to him, "if you can prove your marksmanship as a hunter, my father will
allow us to marry".And so the clerk went out to the forest and he took
his rifle and he missed everything he aimed at and only brought back a
vulture.

The father disapproved and it seemed hopeless, but the clerk was
determined to triumph. So the next time he went to the forest the devil
appeared to him and offered him a handful of magic bullets, and with
these bullets he could hit all the game he aimed at even with his eyes
closed. But the devil warned him that "some of these bullets are for
thee and some are for me". And as the wedding day approached, the clerk
began to get nervous as there was a shooting contest and he was afraid
he needed more magic bullets. Although warned that "the devil's bargain
is a fool's bargain". He went to the crossroads and the devil appeared
as before and gave him one more magic bullet. On the day of their
wedding, the clerk took aim at a wooden dove, and with the devil looking
on, the bullet circled the crowd of guests and hit its mark not the
wooden dove. But the bride, his only love and the clerk ended up in an
insane asylum stark raving mad and joined all the other lunatics in the
devil's carnival



Ðåòå÷ïä ÷úñô ó
http://vladivostok.com/Speaking_In_Tongues/WAITS.HTM

     Öéì äá âùì ïäéî óôáòùê ìåóîéë, óï ó÷ïåê öåîïê é äïþåòøà. É
ëïçäá ðòéûìá ðïòá äïþåòé  åçï  ÷ùèïäéôø  úáíõö,  ÷ùâòáì  ïî  åê
ïèïôîéëá,  éâï  óôáòåì ïî é îå öåìáì, þôïâù äåìï åçï õíåòìï. Îï
äïþø åçï  õöå  ìàâéìá  äòõçïçï,  é,  ë  îåóþáóôøà,  îå  âùì  ïî
ïèïôîéëïí,  á  óìõöéì  ëïîôïòýéëïí,  é  ïôåã  åå îéëáë îå èïôåì
âìáçïóìï÷ìñôø éè óïàú. Îï äïþø ÷ï þôï  âù  ôï  îé  óôáìï  òåûéì
÷ùêôé  úáíõö  ôïìøëï úá ôïçï, ëïçï ìàâéìá, ðïüôïíõ óëáúáìá åíõ:
"åóìé  óíïöåûø  äïëáúáôø  ó÷ïà  íåôëïóôø  ïèïôîéþøà,  ïôåã  íïê
ðïú÷ïìéô  îáí  öåîéôøóñ".   É  ÷ïô õûåì ëïîôïòýéë ÷ ìåó, é ÷úñì
òõöøå ó óïâïà, é íáúáì ïî, ëõäá âù îé ãåìéìóñ, é  ðòéîåó  äïíïê
ïäîïçï ìéûø óôåò÷ñôîéëá.
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ëïîôïòýéë âùì ðïìïî òåûéíïóôé ÷ïóôïòöåóô÷ï÷áôø. É ëïçäá õûåì ïî
÷  ìåó  ÷  óìåäõàýéê  òáú, ñ÷éìóñ åíõ äøñ÷ïì é ðòåäìïöéì çïòóôø
÷ïìûåâîùè ðõìø, é ðõìñíé üôéíé íïç  ðïòáúéôø  ïî  ÷óà  äéþø,  ÷
ëáëõà  âù  îé  ãåìéìóñ,  äáöå  ó  úáëòùôùíé çìáúáíé.  Îï äøñ÷ïì
ðòåäõðòåäéì åçï, þôï "îåëïôïòùå ðõìé ôõô äìñ ôåâñ, á  îåëïôïòùå
-  äìñ  íåîñ".  Á äåîø ó÷áäøâù, íåöäõ ôåí, ÷óå âìéöå é âìéöå, é
ëïîôïòýéë úá÷ïìîï÷áìóñ, éâï äïìöîï âùìï óïóôïñôøóñ ÷  ôïô  äåîø
óïóôñúáîéå  ÷  óôòåìøâå, é ïî âïñìóñ, þôï ÷ïìûåâîùè ðõìø åíõ îå
è÷áôéô. Èïôø é ðòåäõðòåöäáìé åçï, þôï "óäåìëõ ó äøñ÷ïìïí ôïìøëï
çìõðåã  úáëìàþáåô",  ÷ùûåì  ïî  îá  òáú÷éìëõ  äïòïç,  é  äøñ÷ïì
ðòåäóôáì ðòåä îéí, ëáë é òáîøûå, é äáì åíõ åýå  ïäîõ  ÷ïìûåâîõà
ðõìà. × äåîø ó÷áäøâù ðòéãåìéìóñ ëïîôïòýéë ÷ äåòå÷ñîîõà çïìõâëõ,
é ðïä ÷úçìñäïí äøñ÷ïìá ïðéóáìá ðõìñ ëòõç óòåäé ôïìðù  çïóôåê  é
ðïðáìá  ôïþîï  ÷  ãåìø  - îï îå ÷ çïìõâëõ äåòå÷ñîîõà. × îå÷åóôõ
ðïðáìá, ÷ ìàâï÷ø åçï åäéîóô÷åîîõà,  é  úáëïîþéì  ëïîôïòýéë  äîé
ó÷ïé  ÷ ðòéàôå äìñ õíáìéûåîîùè, îåéóôï÷óô÷õñ ÷ ñòïóôîïí âåúõíéé
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Last-modified: Thu, 23 Jul 1998 20:09:13 GMT

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