Tonart: Ab major
Verse 1
Gm
Here in the middle of a film
C
Am
to find myself one of the actors.
Gm
The chief has asked me
to his house for dinner.
Around eight, Rogers.
Gm
Help yourself to a drink, Rogers,
Bb
he gestures to the drink wagon.
Gm
Am
There's keef, of course, if you want it.
G
Gm
I mix myself a short drink
and decline the keef.
It gives me a headache.
F#
I'd seen the chief smoking
with his Arab contacts,
Gm
G
but that didn't give
me a license to smoke.
Gm
G
Be sides, it does give me a headache.
The chief's cover story
C
G
is an eccentric old French count
Bb
who is translating the Koran
G
into Provençal.
Gm
F
An d sometimes
Bb
and bore his guests catatonic.
G
You see, he really knows
Provençal and Arabic.
Bb
F
G
The chief wasn't pulling cover tonight.
G
and watch your step, Rogers,
Am
I told myself, sipping a weak scotch.
F
D
So I think you're the man
G
for a highly important,
and I may add highly dangerous,
Bb
You fell for that crap."
G
F
"'Well, sir, he is impressive,'
G
"'He's a cheap old ham,'
said the chief.
C
He sat down and filled his
G
F#
keep -bite with one hand.
G
B
E#
He smoked and blew the ash out,
G
F#
absently caressing a gazelle
D#m
that nuzzled his knee.
G
Gotta stay ahead of the commies
C
or everybody's kids will be
I endeavor to look noncommittal.
E#
G
D
Have you any idea
C
G
what we're doing here, Rogers?
F#
G
Well, no, sir. I thought not.
C
Never tell them what you want
A#
until you've got them where
I'm going to show you
B
G
a documentary film.
Well, I happened onto this good
thing
through a Mexican shoeshine boy.
You, Kiki, come out here
and show Mr. Rogers how
Kiki stands in the doorway smiling.
G
Now, that lad, he's a doll,
isn't he?
C
C
He's one of the best deep trance me
diums I have ever handled.
C
A#
was able to teleport myself to a Mayan set
and bring back the pictures.
C
The whole thing was so frantic,
Dm
A#
I cooled it all the way up in my reports.
G
C
All I said was,
A#
it looks like a lovely weapon.
B
Ah, that's code for weapon
G
of unlimited potential.
Now he's hopping up now.
C
G
The old priest rocks back and forth.
G
E#
G
and a dry insect music buzzes out.
It's known as singing the pictures.
The principle is alternating
current.
Now that old fuck can alternate
pain and pleasure
perhaps even a molecular level,
G
D
Goating the natives around
on stock probes
G
B
into the prearranged molds
C
laid down in the sacred books.
G
Now, few singers can deliver a direct current,
and they are only called in an emergency.
The control system you have
G
C
This happened quite suddenly.
G
C
Am
A whole generation was born
D
A#
that felt neither pain nor pleasure.
G
There were no soldiers to
C
bring captives from other tribes
G
C
since soldiers would have endangered
Em
G
They relied entirely on local criminals
for the pain and pleasure pictures.
E#
G
As a last resort,
C
they called in the incomparable
yellow serpent.
G
The serpent is carried in
blue snake eyes,
C
skin -like yellow parchment,
G
C#
B
two long serpent fangs
G
grafted into the upper jaw.
As the current pulses through him,
Abm
G
he begins to rock back and forth.
He shifts from A .C. to D .C.
C
B
A thin siren wail breaks from his lips
Am
G
now open to the yellow fangs.
Death, death, death,
B
the pictures crash and leak from his eyes,
G
blasting worker and priest alike to
Am
smoldering fragments.
a thin siren wail rises
B
Bm
G
and falls over empty cities.
This secret of the ancient Mayans,
which few are competent to practice.
G
When comes such another singer
G
as the old yellow serpent?
Now, the technical department
think we are all as crazy
Am
C
reprehensible.
D
C
Bring us the ones that work, they say,
C
G
facts, figures, personnel.
Put that joker Death on the line.
C
Take care of Mayo and his
Bb
C
gang of cutthroats.
G
Bb
I was privileged to as sist,
in a manner of speaking,
G
D
G
at the Yellow Serpent's last broadcast in
F
F#
G
Washington, D .C. Room in the Pentagon.
C
General's CIA State Department
G
B
Bb
fidget about with that top -secret,
hottest -thing -ever look,
B
open line to the president,
Am
G
strategic in NATO, standing by.
D
G
The old yellow serpent
C
is carried in by four Marine guards.
C
He begins to rock back and forth.
B
He breathes in baby coos
Bb
and breathes out death rattles.
C
He sucks in wheat fields
Bb
and spits out dust bowls.
He's just warming up,
Abm
to a five -star gentleman.
The old serpent shifts to D .C.,
Bbm
blazing like a comet.
Death, death, death.
The pictures lash and
F#
crackle from his eyes.
Death, death, death.
B
A wall blows out, spilling brass
Bb
18 floors to the street.
Death, death, death.
And now the serpent
swings his whip in the sky.
Here live stupid,
vulgar sons of bitches
who thought they could hire death
as a company cop.
Empty streets,
old newspapers in the wind,
a rustle of darkness and wires.
Applause
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TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteGm C Am Bb G...
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