Původně zpěvák australské skupiny Birthday Party (celým jménem Nicholas Edward Cave, nar. 1957). Po jejím odchodu do Evropy a následném rozpadu (1983) se stěhuje do Berlína, kde se objevuje v několika skladbách na nahrávkách skupiny Die Haut....

Píseň: There She Goes my Beautiful World

Interpret:
Nick Cave
Album:
Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus (LP 1)
The wintergreen, the juniper
The cornflower and the chicory
All the words you said to me
Still vibrating in the air
The elm, the ash and the linden tree
The dark and deep, enchanted sea
The trembling moon and the stars unfurled
There she goes, my beautiful world


There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again


John Willmot penned his poetry
riddled with the pox
Nabakov wrote on index cards,
at a lectem, in his socks
St. John of the Cross did his best stuff
imprisoned in a box
And JohnnyThunders was half alive
when he wrote Chinese Rocks


Well, me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears
Me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears
Me, I'm lying here, for what seems years
I'm just lying on my bed with nothing in my head


Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me


There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again


Karl Marx squeezed his carbuncles
while writing Das Kapital
And Gaugin, he buggered off, man,
and went all tropical
While Philip Larkin stuck it out
in a library in Hull
And Dylan Thomas died drunk in
St. Vincent's hospital


I will kneel at your feet
I will lie at your door
I will rock you to sleep
I will roll on the floor
And I'll ask for nothing
Nothing in this life
I'll ask for nothing
Give me ever-lasting life


I just want to move the world
I just want to move the world
I just want to move the world
I just want to move


There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again


So if you got a trumpet, get on your feet,
brother, and blow it
If you've got a field, that don't yield,
well get up and hoe it
I look at you and you look at me and
deep in our hearts know it
That you weren't much of a muse,
but then I weren't much of a poet


I will be your slave
I will peel you grapes
Up on your pedestal
With your ivory and apes
With your book of ideas
With your alchemy
O Come on
Send that stuff on down to me


Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send it all around the world
Cause here she comes, my beautiful girl


There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again