Saint Huck

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Nick Cave

Nicholas Edward "Nick" Cave (born 22 September 1957) is an Australian musician, songwriter, author, screenwriter, composer and occasional film actor. more »

Year:

1995

2 Views

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Achtung

Yeah

Born of the river
Born of its ever-changing, never-changing murky water
Yeah, uh
Oh, river boat just rolling along 
Through the great, great greasy city
Huck standing like a Saint, upon its deck
Well ya wanna catch a Saint
Then bait ya hook, let's take a walk

"Oh come to me, oh come to me" 
Is what the dirty say to Huck, Huck

Whoa, oh, whoa, oh, ooh
Saint Huck, Huck

Straight in the arms of the city goes Huck
Down the beckoning streets of opportunity
Whistling his favorite river song
And a bad, blind n*gger at the piano
Puts a sinister blue lilt into that sing-a-long
And Huck senses something's wrong

Sirens wail in the city
And little Ulysses got turned to putty
And Ol' man River's got a bone to pick
And our boys hardly got a bone to suck
He go, whoa-whoa whoa-whoa whoa-whoa whoa-whoa
Saint Huck, yeah Huck

Yeah
The moon, its huge cycloptic eye
Watches the city streets contract
Twist and cripple and crack
Saint Huck goes on a dog's leg now
Saint Huck goes on a dog's leg now

You know the story
Ya wake up one morning and ya find you're a thug
Blowing smoke rings in some dive
Ya fingers hot and itching, cracking ya knuckles
Ya bull neck bristling
Still Huck he ventures on whistling
And Death reckons Huckleberry's time is up
And whoa whoa
Saint Huck, yeah Huck, uh
Whoa oh-oh
Saint Huck

Yonder go Huck, minus pocket-watch an' wallet gone
Skin shrinks wraps his skeleton
No wonder he gets thinner, what with his skinny dinners
Saint Huck-a-Saint Elvis, Saint Huck-a-Saint Elvis
Oh, do you recall the song ya used to sing-a-long
Shifting the river-trade on that ol' steamer
Life is but a dream

But ya trade in the Mighty ol' man River
For the Dirty ol' Man Latrine
The brothel shift
The hustle and the bustle and the green-backs rustle
And all the sexy-cash
And the randy-cars
And the two dollar fuckers
Oh oh oh ya outta luck, are you outta luck
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Saint Huck, yeah, yeah Huck

This is the track of deception
Leads to the heart of despair
Huck whistles like he just don't care
That in the pocket of the jacket is a chamber
Lead pellets sleeps in there
Wake up

Now Huck whistles and he kneels
And he lays down there
See ya huck, good luck
A smoke ring hovers above his head
And the rats and the dogs and the men all come
And put a bullet through his eye
And the drip and the drip and the drip of the Mississippi cryin'
And Saint Huck hears his own Mississippi just rollin' by him
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Saint Huck, Saint Huck, Saint Huck, Saint Huck
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Saint Huck, Saint Huck, Saint Huck, Saint Huck
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa

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