Blue Oyster Cult - Tyranny and Mutation (1973) Produced by Murray Krugman and Sandy Pearlman --------------------------------------------- THE RED AND THE BLACK ( - A. Bouchard - E. Bloom - S. Pearlman - ) Canadian Mounted, baby Police force at work Red and black It's their color scheme Get their man In the end It's all right............It's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............Ah yeah my honies know it's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............Ah yeah baby knows it's all right You'd kill, you'd maim....Ah, c'mon kill 'em You'd kill, you'd maim....Look out C'mon my husky Frontenac Chateau baby I cross the frontier at ten I got a whip in my hand, baby And a girl or a husky At leather's end It's all right............It's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............Ah yeah baby knows it's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............Yeah baby yeah it's all right You'd kill, you'd maim....Ah, c'mon kill 'em now You'd kill, you'd maim Hornswoop me bungo pony on dogsled on ice Make a dash for freedom baby Don't skate on polar ice It's too think to be sliced By the light Of long and white polar nights It's all right............It's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............Yeah baby knows it's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............It's all right It's all right............Yeah knows it's all right You'd kill, you'd maim....Ah, c'mon kill 'em now You'd kill, you'd maim....Maim 'em too Ah, break it up OD'D ON LIFE ITSELF ( - E. Bloom - A. Bouchard - J. Bouchard - S. Pearlman - ) How could I fool you I rest and assure you Take it off from here and put you on the line, yeah Your back to the pistol and iron bullets whistle Landscape's open and the world is mine, it's still mine OD'd on life, life itself OD'd on life, life itself OD'd on life itself Writings appear on the wall The curtains part and landscape fall There the writings done in blood Yeah, like a mummy's inscription and a bat wing tongue Well then the mouth of the cave will open up wide Wide as the world that's mine, it's mine, it's Still mine So don't you fear the trade in life Life loves force but force loves life This wedding by heaven was made up in hell With the victim as bride and life, life itself OD'd on life, life itself (repeat ad nauseam) HOT RAILS TO HELL ( - J. Bouchard - ) Riding the underground Swimming in sweat A rumble above and below Hey cop don't you know? The heat's on alright The hot summer day didn't quit for the night 1277 express to heaven Speeding along like dynamite 1277 express to heaven Rumbles the steel like a dogfight You caught me in it's spell Trying to leave but you know darn well The heat from below can burn your eyes out Blackened out eyes Scratched on the wall Stoned out looks from the crowd The king will not know On the wall it was said The flash of his cards was sprayed with red 1277 express to heaven Speeding along like dynamite 1277 express to heaven Rumbles the steel like a dogfight You caught me in it's spell Trying to leave but you know darn well The heat from below can burn your eyes out SEVEN SCREAMING DIZ-BUSTERS ( - A. Bouchard - J. Bouchard - D. Roeser - S. Pearlman - ) They held their heads with laughs of pain They learned from men who'd just refrain From glancing at a mirror's face Seven screaming diz-busters Who lurked behind the rose Cast iron for a bloodstream And ice behind their eyes On each and all those holy nights When dusters dust becomes the sale And Lucifer the light The light They're long so long this time of year When stars be crossed by twirling fear You don't suppose I'd prove surprised Seven screaming diz-busters Should go the route and die Without that warmth they've learned to crave With hardened smiles and evil signs Bury me near the secret cove So they'll not know the way Bury me there behind the rose So they'll not rile my grave I'll not reveal whose name still lost Well their laughs of pain And their harder smiles And their rigid arms And their evil signs Yeah, the longer days ah, the longer nights Oh, yeah the longer Yeah, they're longer still On each and all those holy nights When dusters dust becomes the sale And Lucifer the light BABY ICE DOG ( - A. Bouchard - E. Bloom - P Smith - ) I had this bitch you see She made lies to me Her deceit ah, it gave me a chill But I found out now That baby, that baby ice dog She said we would wed In Mongolian country Lilies shoot free But she was a-stoning me In the mountains, no Her intent it was all too clear All too clear It was quite a sin How the ice caved in I was numb I could not assist Baby ice went down To the cold cold cold ground I said "Baby...that's the breaks" Turn me around like broke down hound now Crossing me once too often Now she's bound for a lower station She crossing me once too often Hey baby, don't cross me, baby I'm bad And now the ladies all fear this Mongolian man With ice down his face You know I get involved In unnatural acts With the aid of my cold cold stare They'd like to make it With my big black dog But they just don't know how to ask You know they'd like to try Anything that comes into their minds Ahh, Freeze on now, baby Freeze on freeze on freeze on bone to bone Freeze on freeze on freeze on Freeze on freeze on freeze on bone Freeze on freeze on freeze on freeze on WINGS WETTED DOWN ( - A. Bouchard - J. Bouchard - ) Flights of black horseman Soar o'er the churches Pursued by an army of birds in the rain None of them can see the clouds The polished wings don't care Animal waves through the hazy Dreams full of pain Wings wetted down Stumbling on the ground It all turns around In the end, the end, the end The voices sound deadly Sometimes I hear Echoes of empires Spread throughout the sky Wings wetted down Stumbling on the ground It all turns around In the end, the end, the end Flights of black horseman Soar o'er the churches Pursued by an army of birds in the rain Wings wetted down It all turns around It all turns around In the end, the end, the end TEEN ARCHER ( - D. Roeser - E. Bloom - R. Meltzer - ) She got less than you or I She got less than me She got less than you or I She got less than me She get She get Tired She gets tired She got more than you or I She got more than me She got more than you or I She got more than me She get She get Wild She gets wild Ballin' all night ballin' all day She won't ball on me Ballin' all night ballin' all day She won't ball on me She will She will Smile She will smile She will laugh She will die She don't care Cryin' all night, cryin' all day She will cry for me Cryin' all night, cryin' all day She will cry for me She will She will Smile She will smile She will laugh She will die She don't care MISTRESS OF THE SALMON SALT ( - A. Bouchard - S. Pearlman - ) In the garden district Where the plants grow strong and tall Behind the bush there lurks a girl Who makes them strong and tall The villagers call her Quicklime girl........Behind her back Quicklime girl........Behind the bush Quicklime girl She's the mistress of the salmon salt Quicklime girl Quicklime girl Quicklime girl In the fall when plants return By harvest time she knows the score Ripe and ready to the eye Yet rotten somehow to the core And they call her Quicklime girl........Behind her back Quicklime girl........Behind the bush Quicklime girl She's the mistress of the salmon salt Quicklime girl Quicklime girl Quicklime girl A harvest of life a harvest of death One body of life one body of death And when you've gone and choked to death With laughter and a little step I'll prepare the quicklime, friend For your ripe and ready grave For your ripe and ready grave It's springtime now and cares subside And the planning's almost done And fertile graves it seems exist Within a mile of that Duke's joint Where Coast Guard crews still take their leave Quite listless in the sun And the quicklime girl still plies her trade The reduction of the many from the one And they call her Quicklime girl........Behind her back Quicklime girl........Behind the bush Quicklime girl She's the mistress of the salmon salt Quicklime girl Quicklime girl........They call her Quicklime girl A harvest of life, a harvest of death Resumes its course each day It comes as if by schedule A harvester lifts his arms to the rain And toes that crawl And knees that jerk And necks like swans that seem to turn As if inclined to gasp or pray