| Song | Indie Cindy |
| Artist | Pixies |
| Album | VISIONS: All Areas, Volume 161 |
| Put this down for the record | |
| It’s more or less un-checkered | |
| Wasted days and wasted nights | |
| Made me a ******* beggar | |
| No soul, my milk is curdled | |
| I’m the burgermeister of purgatory | |
| Look out for that hot plate | |
| Guess that’s all you got, great | |
| You put the **** in ****tail, man | |
| Well I put the tail WAIT! | |
| Watch me walk | |
| Blowtorch a hole in the armor | |
| And I don’t need the tip | |
| I am in love with your daughter | |
| And though she has no need | |
| I’m the one who’s got some trotters | |
| You’ve many mouths to feed | |
| Indie Cindy | |
| Be in love with me | |
| I beg for you to carry me | |
| Mixed messages from Sir Naff | |
| Please authenticate | |
| Just to be sure that you’re a sap | |
| Set for stun automatica | |
| Crap is their operative | |
| Locomotive of the longest death | |
| There goes Indie Cindy whose | |
| Sails were black when it was windy | |
| We offed ourselves in a lover’s pact | |
| We threw ourselves into the sea | |
| Well looksie what the wind washed back | |
| As we follow the bouncing ball | |
| They call this dance the washed up crawl | |
| I beg for you to carry me | |
| I beg for you to carry me |
| Put this down for the record | |
| It' s more or less uncheckered | |
| Wasted days and wasted nights | |
| Made me a beggar | |
| No soul, my milk is curdled | |
| I' m the burgermeister of purgatory | |
| Look out for that hot plate | |
| Guess that' s all you got, great | |
| You put the in tail, man | |
| Well I put the tail WAIT! | |
| Watch me walk | |
| Blowtorch a hole in the armor | |
| And I don' t need the tip | |
| I am in love with your daughter | |
| And though she has no need | |
| I' m the one who' s got some trotters | |
| You' ve many mouths to feed | |
| Indie Cindy | |
| Be in love with me | |
| I beg for you to carry me | |
| Mixed messages from Sir Naff | |
| Please authenticate | |
| Just to be sure that you' re a sap | |
| Set for stun automatica | |
| Crap is their operative | |
| Locomotive of the longest death | |
| There goes Indie Cindy whose | |
| Sails were black when it was windy | |
| We offed ourselves in a lover' s pact | |
| We threw ourselves into the sea | |
| Well looksie what the wind washed back | |
| As we follow the bouncing ball | |
| They call this dance the washed up crawl | |
| I beg for you to carry me | |
| I beg for you to carry me |