Michael Moller profile picture

Michael Moller

Every Streetcar's Got a Name

About Me

Michael Møller. Danish. Living in Berlin. Singer in moi Caprice (myspace.com/moicaprice). Releasing debut-album November 5th - Every Streetcar's Got a Name - An Album about sex and desire.Here are are a few songs from my solo debut, as well as one non-album track. I've uploaded lots of pictures as well, click the one on the left to see more. You can find all the lyrics in the "Sounds like"-section.

My Interests

Music:

Member Since: 10/11/2007
Band Members: Just me...On my album a lot of friends helped me playing instruments: Jacob Funch - Guitar and banjo, Jesper Elnegaard - Drums, Kåre Joensen - Bass, Sara Indrio - Percussion, Kasper Sørensen - Guitar, Christian Hjelm - Guitar and vocals, Jacob Bellens - Vocals, Nils Gröndahl - Violin and singing saw, Morten Svenstrup - Cello, Ned Ferm - Saxophone, Kasper Tranberg - Trumpet, Mads Hyhne - Trombone and Nikolaj Nørlund - Guitar.There's also a duet with Amanda Brown, a sweet aussie lady who once played in the amazing Go-Betweens.
Influences: John Cale, Bob Dylan, The Go-Betweens, Tennessee Williams, Serge Gainsbourg, Billy Bragg, the Lucksmiths, Nick Cave, Damon Albarn, Henry Miller, the Beach Boys, Scott Walker, Kate Bush, Kris Kristofferson, Jacob Bellens, Tim Buckley, Broken Social Scene, Tindersticks, Stephen Merritt, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Cat Stevens, Leonard Cohen, Lou Reed, Yo La Tengo, Philip LaMantia, Charles Bukowski, Nikolaj Nørlund.
Sounds Like: I don't know. But here are all the lyrics. Also for the non album track "Was It Worth It all", it's in the bottom.Every Streetcar’s Got a NameWe did it in the kitchen We did it on a train We did it in the backseat Every streetcar’s got a nameWe did it in your bedroom In your parents’ just the same And in your boyfriend’s office Every streetcar’s got a nameIn restrooms by the highway Below bridges by the Seine And even in the Vatican State Every Streetcar’s got a name --The Lie That Keeps Us TogetherI couldn’t sleep, you didn’t come home and something’s wrong with your phone I kept thinking about those coffee stains on our sheets as I walked through the streets I won’t ask you any questions; don’t tell me where you’ve been I heard his voice, the car door slam and the soft hum of the machine Did you wake up late in some stranger’s bed with an ache in your head? Did you wonder how it could happen again when you swore it would end? I won’t ask you any questions, though on my tongue they burn You could come with bite marks on your cunt, just as long as you return It’s alright, let’s forget it, we all make our mistakes I’ll forgive and I’ll forget what trouble lies ahead I’ll forgive and I’ll forget what worries lie ahead, what waits for us in beds It’s the lies that keep us together The truth would only tear us apart That’s the lie that keeps us together The truth about you would only break my heart And vice versa, that’s the art!---Your Palace in the MorningLove letter fly; tell her a day has gone by Without her lips, her skin and her breasts and her hips It all seems so near, the memory of having you here Here in my arms, here in my arms, here in my armsI was cleaning my room, singing while swinging the broom Of bodies unfurled drifting through condomless worlds I dozed for a while, I dreamt of your face when you smile And the rest of you too, the rest of you too, the rest of you tooWe slept in a palace, exhausted and careless We are flames at night; we are without sight I thrive for each fraction; wallow in our imperfections It takes courage to get this happy; it takes courage to feel this happy, yeah!Kissing at dawn, I’d left you quite early that morn’ And twelve hours on my right hand was covering a yawn And softly it grew; two fingers still smelling like you Wuhuuu…---The Memory of MotelsThe memory of motels and you in the bed there These tiny little cells where we’d meet once a week All dressed in nature’s uniform in dull afternoon light The memories still get to me and haunt me on a lonely night The memory of motels and you in the bed there Of sudden swift farewells for your family dinners The ring you wore reminded you that you were not born to fight The memories still get to me of how you never stayed the night I never told you that I stayed after you left I paid the room so I figured I’d drink the free coffee, though it was lonely I’d read the Bible or watch some TV Find a few of the hairs you left for me on the pillow, some kind of a quid pro quo Breakfast in bed at a bed and breakfast Then take the bus home and wait for the week to pass I see you now and then walking with your sons in the city You do look older, but still very pretty Sometimes you wear a dress that I seem to remember from the old days How you picked it from the floor before you went away And someday when you write down your memoirs far from now I’ll be the chapter that you choose leave out The memory of motels---This Little LadyThis little lady was like a tattoo, at first she was wanted then stuck on like glue And maybe his leaving was all he could do and leave her a letter that hurt All of their children they blamed him at first, but once in their teens they could see he was cursed Cause this little lady, their mother by name, was a creature too wild to tameHe’d met her while traveling, it slowly unfurled, he enjoyed having found such hunger in a girl They moved to a village close to where they’d met and spent honeymoon in their bed At first it was happy, one sweaty embrace, but he soon saw he couldn’t keep up with her pace She wanted it nightly and all through the day and slowly he pushed her awaySo to soothe her needs she would see other men, in barns or behind bushes again and again They found in her what they couldn’t find in their wives, then returned to their ordinary lives But rumors they grew of this horrible shame, the women would speak of a harsh Latin name And this little lady would try to explain and did so but all was in vainThis little lady was like a balloon that rise beautifully just to lose air to soon Her children had left her and the townsmen were appalled of how she had bewitched them all So this little lady she cut both her wrists, she jumped from a bridge with a gun in her fists And they all just forgot her except for this knave; a townsman who pissed on her grave---A Queen Between the SheetsMany a girl has passed that door And picked their clothes up from the floor Such different ages, different lives They’ll all turn into someone’s wives One last chance to change your mind Don’t sign your name on that dotty line, you’ll be sorry soon One last chance, don’t change a thing Don’t walk the aisle, don’t wear that ring, you’ll be sorry soon, I’ll be sorry too The years have passed, the number’s grown I don’t recall how many I have known The one night stands and short term loans But still you hold the thrown One last chance to change your mind Don’t sign your name on that dotty line, you’ll be sorry soon One last chance, don’t change a thing Don’t walk the aisle, don’t wear that ring, you’ll be sorry soon, I’ll be sorry too Cause it happens our eyes meet when I pass you on the street Sometimes we nearly greet before looking at our feet Though I recall you’re less than sweet, still my heart begins to beat Cause I remember when we meet that you’re a queen between the sheets You’re a queen between the sheets---Don’t Ever Kiss Him AgainI thought I could trust you, I thought that I knew you I thought you’d stay true to the end But at least you confess to have let him undress you You cry as you’re making amends So I’ll forgive you when you’re in my arms I’ll buy us our own little farm We’ll go there and live there and stay there So no one will ever interfere Just don’t ever kiss him again or I’ll leave you Don’t ever kiss him again---Don’t Ever Fuck Her AgainI thought I could trust you, I thought that I knew you, I thought of you as my best friend What the hell are you thinking to excuse with drinking a night that came to such an end You were like a brother, you knew like no other how much I loved her and still do You knew it was holy, yet undressed her slowly if what she has told me is true Then it’s farewell, I don’t want to see you, there’s no need to discuss what you’ve done We used to go hunting together and trust me I still own the gun So don’t ever fuck her again or I’ll kill you Don’t ever fuck her again or I’ll kill you We’ll move away, don’t write us The distance that divide you from us Might keep you alive and we’ll be fine Assuming that the child is mine---Your Skin, Your Smell, the Noises You MakeIn a lot of darkened bars there are people sending gazes Strangers in the night until they said their first hello Mata Hari and Monroe, their skin glistening, Causing jealousy and rage as they die in early age I was dreaming about that night when I asked you to come over And within half an hour you were stretching at my sheets Liquid running down your thighs with skin glistening Would we feel regret if no one knew our crimes? I have loved and still I’ve done this many times Making love will tear us apart and it’ll put us back together The thunder in our hearts sometimes echo in our limbs It is violently soft, mad and hissing… Your skin, your smell, the noises you make when we’re this close together---The Girl Without Numbers on Her BackSometimes at night that mimic astounds me A widening mouth with its legs around me Candles flicker light on empty walls Through rings of smoke we watch erections fall The floor is filled with empty bottles Mixed up with clothes that has fallen from us We are so close it’s the same air we breathe We speak in sounds through clenching teeth The light returns at daybreak And we’re strangers once again Once more before the shower Then she’ll return shortly past ten To her parents house again Does God forgive or is that just a saying? Can you squeeze in with a bit of praying? Which excuses will please the man above? She looked just like you, is that good enough? The girl without numbers on her back just went showering and never came back---The Skin GameYou say I go drinking too much and sometimes I do But don’t you know when I’m drinking I’m always thinking of you You ask why I go dancing so much and I wish I knew Cause don’t you know when I’m dancing I’m always thinking of you You ask so many questions and say so many words I just wish you wouldn’t say the ones that hurt You say I stay at parties too long, which happens at times But still drunk and senseless you’re always the one on my mind You’re so full of accusations, you say so many words I just wish you wouldn’t say the ones that hurt You claim that I go flirting too much and I’m sure I do But with whomever I’m flirting I’m just reminded of you And you say I go fucking too many, we both know that’s true But don’t you know when I’m fucking I wish that I was the one who was fucking you---Tennessee (Return of the Body Snatchers)On returning to you I’ll be happy, nothing’s changed, it’s as good as it can be Every routine is still working quite perfectly; I can hear you agree For a year I was working in Tennessee and with my hands I made love to your memory Sure, I’d wear all of your dresses and still feel fine knowing you’re mine If the distance won’t kill us then the skin and the closeness Will just make us stronger and make us last longer And maybe we’ll marry and produce a bunch of kids this way You were waiting for me at the station, we hurried home for a celebration It took less than two minutes to get undressed, who would’ve guessed…---All the Girls I Lost in the FiresThrough black books and morning looks wasting Cupid’s darts With empty testicles and an empty heart But something is wrong I thought, some part is gone With all the hurt induced by the fire I saw twenty three girls line up and just look away Crawling through crowded beds for a place to stay But something’s wrong I thought, some part has gone With every girl I lost in a fire At times I’ve been bad, drunk and unkind But I know I’ve been good, sometimes quite divine I know I’ve left trails of sore lips and broken hearts My own was chopped off part by partWouldn’t it be nice if we were younger Then it wouldn’t have to be so hard How many more to come, how many useless darts? Cause something’s wrong I thought, some part is gone With all the girls I lost in the fires But please not this one---A Sunday RoutineMichael: Amanda: Do your Sunday routine, unzip my jeans… And let’s go to bed Soft as a kitten’s paw… I’ll take off your bra, then take you to bed Was life really beautiful before we knew what hid inside our pants? How could this be a sin, this fire within? Let’s just go to bed Your lips keep climbing on down, upon and around… Now let’s go to bed Was life really beautiful before we knew what hid inside our pants? Dim the lights in the room Your scent, your perfume… Please take me to bed Your skin brushing against mine And our legs intertwined Let’s go to bed Was life really beautiful before we knew what hid inside our pants? Desire might kill us all, but when we fall down that ladder And our dreams start to shatter And we see Hell approaching within a mile Still we’d go with a smile, still we’ll go without trial, we will go there in style: It has all been worth while---We Did It Just the SameWe did it in the thunder And we did it in the rain We did it while the lightning struck our butts But we did it just the sameIt’ll make us feel so happy It can drive us quite insane Until our hearts or body parts fail Every streetcar’s got a name---Was It Worth It AllIt's over, the smiles have gone Your voice has changed into something unrecognizable It's gone now, we're in a state where sorry has long lost it's meaning And it's just too late It's over, still you eyes are dry I guess you've reached that point where you just can't cry It's broken now, we never thought it would And all because of twenty minutes that weren't all that good. Was it worth it all?
Record Label: Glorious Records
Type of Label: Indie