Into the Pandemonium
Album - 25 novembre 1987 - Debaser id 32583

Mexican Radio
written by Wall of Voodoo, from their album Call of the West

I feel a hot wind on my shoulder
And the touch of a world that is older
I turn the switch and check the number
I leave it on when in bed I slumber

I hear the rhythms of the music
I buy the product but never use it
I hear the talking of the DJ
Can't understand - just what does he say?

I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio

(Radio DJ speaking in Spanish)

I dial it in and tune the station
They talk about the U.S. inflation
I understand just a little
No comprende - it's a riddle

I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio


(Radio DJ speaking in Spanish)

I wish I was in Tijuana -
Eating barbecued iguana
I'd take requests on the telephone
I'm on a wavelength far from home

I feel the hot wind on my shoulder
I dial it in from south of the border
I hear the talking of the DJ -
Can't understand - just what does he say?

I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio

Radio, Radio
Radio, Radio
Radio, Radio
Radio, Radio

I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio
I'm on the Mexican radio
I'm on the Mexican (whoa ho) radio ...

Radio
Radio
What does he say?
Radio
Radio
Radio

You, who like the moon at night
Haunted my mortal heart ...

You who made this ancient walls
Shine like divine marble

The unwanted breath - through creedence
A derelict shell in the desert

- Mesmerised -
As love inflamed the night
Burning tongues brought the rain
The sand remained - purified

Murmur at the meager's spear
Battered Carthagian pride
The beloved cry - wasted dismay
Invasion of baseness and shade

You, loved by your father
Innocent as a vestal - dove

Buried in a deep blue sea
As we all lose - ever

Sleep brings no joy to me
Remembrance never dies
My soul is given to misery
And lives in sighs ...
The shadows of the dead,
My waken eyes may never see,
Surround my bed
That from which they sprung - eternity

Beneath the turf
The silent dead

Sleep brings no wish to knit
My harrassed heart beneath
My only wish is to forget
In the sleep of death
Death is my joy
I long to be at rest
I wish the damp earth covered
This desolate brest

Beneath the mould
The silent dead

But the glad eyes around us
Must weep as we have done
And we must see the same gloom
Eclipse their morning sun

Oh not for them - Should we despair
The grave is drear - But they're not there
Their dust is mingled - With the sod
Their pale souls - Are gone, to god

Well, may they live in ecstasy
Their long eternity of joy
At least I wouldn't bring them down
With me to weep, to groan
And what's the future
A sea beneath the cloudless sun
A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity

My inner sanctum
R.I.P

This evening the moon dreams more lazily
As some fair woman, lost in cushions deep
With gentle hand caresses listlessly
The contour of her breasts before she sleeps
On velvet backs of avalanches soft
She often lies enraptured as she dies
And gazes on white visions aloft
Which like a blossoming to heaven rise
When sometimes on this globe, in indolence
She lets a secret tear drop down, by chance
A poet, set against oblivion
Takes in his hand this pale and furtive tear
This opal drop where rainbow hues appear
And hides it in his breast far from the sun

[Instrumental]