| Song | The Making of a Soul |
| Artist | The Residents |
| Album | Not Available |
| 作词 : Residents | |
| Chorus: | |
| Edweena went to calumet and left from there to college; | |
| She took along a porcupine whose name was known as knowledge; | |
| Now their relationship was fraught with pangs of loving hunger. | |
| The Porcupine could question all, but all she new was slumber. | |
| Porcupine: | |
| A huge easy cozy wants our kiss to triumph, | |
| But unbelievable admits -- | |
| Some questions receive a guarantee to shake you up. | |
| How much marriage urges a windmill to pinch infinity? | |
| Is a magic hid-a-bed the final home of Spanish fire? | |
| Is firm corn merrier under gifts of less important love? | |
| We wonder. | |
| But fantasy moves ahead; | |
| For the iceman just took a turn for the better | |
| And a small object flies from his mouth; | |
| A daring, jewel scales down the belted ear system | |
| And you have the modular optimistic silver original. | |
| Welcome to the offshoots of Jupiter. | |
| Chorus: | |
| Edweena never knowing why her friend would ramble so | |
| She shut him out and left a pout to bleed upon the snow. | |
| Porcupine: | |
| Mourning Glories open only after noon begins; | |
| The open and the broken have begun to blend again. | |
| They freeze a shape about the nape | |
| Of nectar and of knee; | |
| They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve fox | |
| Mourning's never free. | |
| Uncle Remus: | |
| The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul. | |
| (The empties that have been returned relieve us of a goal). | |
| Chorus: | |
| Now who is gone and who is right | |
| And who is left to see | |
| For who is left is just a few | |
| Can two be more than three? |
| zuò cí : Residents | |
| Chorus: | |
| Edweena went to calumet and left from there to college | |
| She took along a porcupine whose name was known as knowledge | |
| Now their relationship was fraught with pangs of loving hunger. | |
| The Porcupine could question all, but all she new was slumber. | |
| Porcupine: | |
| A huge easy cozy wants our kiss to triumph, | |
| But unbelievable admits | |
| Some questions receive a guarantee to shake you up. | |
| How much marriage urges a windmill to pinch infinity? | |
| Is a magic hidabed the final home of Spanish fire? | |
| Is firm corn merrier under gifts of less important love? | |
| We wonder. | |
| But fantasy moves ahead | |
| For the iceman just took a turn for the better | |
| And a small object flies from his mouth | |
| A daring, jewel scales down the belted ear system | |
| And you have the modular optimistic silver original. | |
| Welcome to the offshoots of Jupiter. | |
| Chorus: | |
| Edweena never knowing why her friend would ramble so | |
| She shut him out and left a pout to bleed upon the snow. | |
| Porcupine: | |
| Mourning Glories open only after noon begins | |
| The open and the broken have begun to blend again. | |
| They freeze a shape about the nape | |
| Of nectar and of knee | |
| They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve fox | |
| Mourning' s never free. | |
| Uncle Remus: | |
| The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul. | |
| The empties that have been returned relieve us of a goal. | |
| Chorus: | |
| Now who is gone and who is right | |
| And who is left to see | |
| For who is left is just a few | |
| Can two be more than three? |