Now this is a knotty one... No intention to intrude on the copyright of blah blah, non-profit making site yadda-yadda... you've heard it all before. So, what we're going to do is this: post a few MP3s and a few of the lyrics. Any objections, please contact us and we'll remedy the situation ASAP, and think of something else to go here.
MP3 Files
- Is That What I Said?
- demo, 1982, 1.0MB
- Multigreen
- demo, 1982, 1.3MB
- Balance
- demo, 1982, 1.0MB
- Dies Irae
- Big Wheel EP version, 1.8MB
- Howard's at Lunch
- LP version, 1.6MB
- Jack Pelter
- LP version, 1.2MB
- Witches and Heroes
- LP version, 1.8MB
- Naughty Miranda
- live, 12 May 1984, 2.4MB
- Squaredance in the Sepulchre
- live, 27 July 1984, 1.3MB
- Call a Spade a Spade
- live, 27 July 1984, 1.4MB
written by Indians in Moscow, © 1983/1984 Kennick Music Ltd
thanks be to Matt Kinska
Lyrics
Is That What I Said?
The fly in the soapdish
On his back, legs a-flailing
A spectacular last performance
For the slob in the bath
It's been a long long long long summer
Every second older
Dreams we had of leaving
Will be best left till next year
Is that what I said?
Is that the time already my dear?
We'll have to move on
Some other time maybe
Move on
Me in a soapdish
You in a soapdish
Trapped here in a sticky mess
Remarkably we'll both get out
But lose a second skin
Habit has a dignity
Useful to its users
Dreams we had of taking stock
Will soon be left behind
Is that what I said?
Is that the time already my dear?
We'll have to move on
Some other time maybe
Is that what I said?
We'll have to move on
Is that what I said?
I take it all back
Salt
Hoo! Hah! Hoo! Hah!
It could be a piece of cake
It could be easy to take
Could give you a run for cash
Could tell you things you never have had told to you
It could jerk your arms akimbo
Or grip you by the heel
Bruise you black and blue
And make the bruises bleed
Hoo! Hah! Hoo! Hah!
Don't show me an iron skirt
Skin a smooth thigh - no bruise hurt
It could be an officer in drag
Could tell you things you never have had told to you
It could jerk your arms akimbo
Or grip you by the heel
Bruise you black and blue
And make the bruises bleed
To you, a message inscribe
So after he, these words survive
She was under when you weren't there
Could get to like this feeling
It's fresher
It could jerk your arms akimbo
Or grip you by the heel
Bruise you black and blue
And make the bruises bleed
It could pull the rug from underfoot
To catch you as you fall
Or not be there at all
Or not be there at all
It could kiss you in the crowd
Or kick you when we're home
But it's not salt
It'll never be salt
Indians in Moscow
Read all the papers
There's nothing to say
The last issue
Won't be out today
This is normal, they say
Clue on the black chequered paper?
Indians in Moscow
News will read you
All shining out
News will read you
All shining out
Russian dolls in blackened wood
And generations question
Prints or repetition?
Tribes over-run
No order of this kind
Picture the chaos here
Squares dissolve to another design
Of the present
Safety here! No light!
Sand in the glass
Sinking basic colours into grey
Tribes over-run
Cataclysmic spires
Are overdone today
You have to write an essay
But your pen is running
For president
Indians in Moscow
lyrics by Adele Nozedar, © 1983 Kennick Music Ltd
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