Elvis Costello - Suit Of Lights Lyrics






While Nat King Cole sings "Welcome To My World"
You request some song you hate you sentimental fool
And it's the force of habit
If it moves then you fuck it
If it doesn't move you stab it
And I thought I heard "The Working Man's Blues"
He went out to work that night and wasted his breath
Outside there was a public execution
Inside he died a thousand deaths

And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they put him in a suit of lights

In the perforated first editions
Where they advocate the hangman's noose
Then tell the sorry tale of the spent Princess
Her uncouth escort looking down her dress

Anyway they say that she wears the trousers
And learnt everything that she does
And doesn't know if she should tell him yes
Or let him go

And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they put him in a suit of lights

Well it's a dog's life in a rope leash or a diamond collar
It's enough to make you think right now
But you don't bother
For goodness sake as you cry and shake
Let's keep you face down in the dirt where you belong
And think of all the pleasure that it brings
Though you know that it's wrong

And there's still life in your body
But most of it's leaving
Can't you give us all a break
Can't you stop breathing

And I thought I heard "The Working Man's Blues"
I went to work that night and wasted my breath
Outside they're painting tar on somebody
It's the closest to a work of art that they will ever be

And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they pulled him out of the cold cold ground
And they put him in a suit of lights
And they put him in a suit of lights





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Elvis Costello Suit Of Lights Comments
  1. S.... G....

    If you fall in love with a piece of music because it means something to you, and carry it with you long enough, it takes root. It becomes a part of you. You no longer carry it any more consciously than you carry your head. The music is just there like oxygen, and it’s a shock if you discover how long it’s been in your head and heart.

    I remember the day Elvis Costello's album King of America was released, because my pal Larry Carlile and I looked forward to each of his albums with great impatience. Larry worked at the drug store across the street from the record shop my family owned, Rock n' Easy, and would rush over every time I called to say the new Costello was in. We'd spend hours analyzing the lyrics.

    "Suit of Lights" tore me apart immediately, because I know so many people afflicted like those in the mob it describes, and I love them. I love them even more when I think of all they miss.

    I remember discussing this with Larry that evening, or maybe it was the next night, in his tiny apartment on Reynolds Street. He was drinking a bottle of beer. I see it so clearly that it seems he’s still drinking it, but somehow decades have passed and "Suit of Lights" is still killing me.

    Outside they're painting tar on somebody
    It's the closest to a work of art that they will ever be...

    Thank you so much for sharing this,

    S.... G....

    Well said, sir.

    S.... G....

    Mike Halwa Thank you for that!

  2. J.... V....

    It's the force of habit...No one insults like Elvis!

  3. S.... B....

    can't you give us all a break/and you stop breathing