Афоризмы
29 июля 2026, среда
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
Раздел

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

10 цитат

рок-группа с международным составом, основанная в 1983 году в Мельбурне австралийским музыкантом Ником Кейвом. Дословно название группы переводится как Ник Кейв и дурные семена. Коллектив был основан после распада первого проекта Кейва и Мика Харви - The Birthday Party. Основой для звучания новая группа взяла нойз-рок, а также элементы таких стилей как панк-рок, готик-рок, блюз и ноу-вейв. Альбомы 1980-х годов звучат в основном в духе постпанка, однако в дальнейшем группа стала двигаться к более изысканному звучанию.

Страна
Австралия
Год основания
1983
Жанр
Рок, Инди
You'll see him in your nightmares, you'll see him in your dreams. He'll appear out of nowhere but he ain't what he seems. You'll see him in your head, on the TV screen - And hey buddy, I'm warning you to turn it off. He's a ghost, he's a god, he's a man, he's a guru, You're one microscopic cog In his catastrophic plan, Designed and directed by His Red Right Hand.
He'll wrap you in his arms, tell you that you've been a good boy, He'll rekindle all the dreams it took you a lifetime to destroy, He'll reach deep into the hole, heal your shrinking soul... Hey buddy, you know you're never coming back, - He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guru. They're whispering his name through this disappearing land, But hidden in his coat is a red right hand.
You ain't got no money? He'll get you some. You ain't got no car? He'll get you one. You ain't got no self-respect, you feel like an insect Well don't you worry buddy, cause here he comes Through the ghettos and the barrio and the bowery and the slum A shadow is cast wherever he stands Stacks of green paper in his red right hand.
Take a little walk to the edge of town Go across the tracks, Where the viaduct looms, like a bird of doom, As it shifts and cracks. Where secrets lie in the border fires, In the humming wires. Hey, man, you know you're never coming back, Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills, past the stacks, On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man In a dusty black coat with a red right hand.
I don't claim to understand The troubles that you've had. But the dogs you say they fed you to Lay their muzzles in your lap And the lions that they led you to Lie down and take a nap. The ones you fear are wind and air, And I love you without measure. It seems we can be happy now, Be it better late than never.