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ROLL THE BONES Released: September 3rd, 1991



Certified Gold by RIAA: October 25, 1991

Certified Platinum by RIAA: August 31, 2001

View All Album Certifications



Highest Billboard Chart Position: 3

Liner Notes

Articles

Track Listing

Dreamline

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Bravado

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Roll The Bones

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Face Up

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Where's My Thing?

(Part IV, "Gangster Of Boats" Trilogy)

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson

The Big Wheel

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Heresy

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Ghost Of A Chance

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

Neurotica

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

You Bet Your Life

Music: Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson / Lyrics: Neil Peart

- Electric and acoustic guitars, backing vocals- Drums and cymbals- Bass guitar, vocals, synthesizersProduced by Rupert Hine and RushEngineered by Stephen W. TaylerArrangements by Rush and Rupert HineRecorded February-May, 1991, at Le Studio, Morin Heights, assisted by Simon Pressey;McClear Place, Toronto, assisted by Paul Seeley; and mixed at Nomis Studios, London,assisted by Ben DarlowAdditional keyboards and background vocals by Rupert HinePreproduction work at Chalet Studio, by Lerxst Sound, assisted by Everett RavesteinMastered by Bob Ludwig, Masterdisk NYCManagement by Ray Danniels, SRO Management Inc., TorontoExecutive Production by Anthem Records: Liam BirtArt Direction and Design by Hugh SymePortraits by Andrew MacNaughtanPhotography by ScarpatiDigitals by Joe BerndtSpecial thanks to those who keep us "rolling": At Shallow Studio--The Koopster, David, Röb, Caroline, Logger, the War Room, Chester Sight & Sound, CNN, The Psychedelic Shack, The Sugar Shack, Johnny Abdul, the birds. At Le Studio--Richard, Simon, Linda, Francine, Benoît d'Arleaux, Steve, Dave, Anne-Marie, New England Digital (Nick how-about-a-credit?), and a belated thank you to Pippa. At SRO--Ray, Pegi, Sheila, Kim, Evelyn, Laura. On the road--Tour manager and lighting director: Howard Ungerleider, President and stage manager: Liam Birt, Production manager: Nick Kotos, Concert sound engineer: Robert Scovill, Stage left tech: Skip Gildersleeve, Center stage tech: Larry Allen, Stage right tech: Jim Johnson, Keyboard Tech: Tony Geranios, Monitor engineer: Bill Chrysler, and also some of the other "old campaigners": Billy Collins, Matt Druzbik, , Jack Funk, Tom Hartman, Ted Leamy, Brad Madix, Mac MacLear, Mike McLoughlin, George Steinert, Mike Weiss, Tom Whittaker, and Mr. Big (band and crew). At home--perpetual thanks and appreciation to our families, who are always there to catch us when we stop rolling...Brought to you buy the letter "B."We appreciate continuing technical assistance from Saved By Technology, Wal basses, Paul Reed Smith guitars, Gallien-Kruger, Ludwig drums, Avedis Zildjian cymbals, and--The Omega Concern."Now it's dark."© 1991 Atlantic Records © 1991 Anthem Entertainment1. Dreamline (4:38)2. Bravado (4:56)3. Roll The Bones (5:30)4. Face Up (3:54)5. Where's My Thing? (Part IV, "Gangster Of Boats" Trilogy) (3:49)6. The Big Wheel (5:15)7. Heresy (5:26)8. Ghost Of A Chance (5:19)9. Neurotica (4:40)10. You Bet Your Life (5:00)He's got a road map of JupiterA radar fix on the starsAll along the highwayShe's got a liquid-crystal compassA picture book of the riversUnder the SaharaWe're only at home when we're on the runOn the runHe's got a star map of HollywoodA list of cheap motelsAll along the freewayShe's got a sister out in VegasThe promise of a decent jobFar away from her hometownWe're only at home when we're on the wingOn the wingWHEN WE ARE YOUNGWANDERING THE FACE OF THE EARTHWONDERING WHAT OUR DREAMS MIGHT BE WORTHLEARNING THAT WE'RE ONLY IMMORTAL --FOR A LIMITED TIMETime is a gypsy caravanSteals away in the nightTo leave you stranded in DreamlandDistance is a long-range filterMemory a flickering lightLeft behind in the heartlandWe're only at home when we're on the flyOn the flyWe're only at home when we're on the runOn the run...If we burn our wingsFlying too close to the sunIf the moment of gloryIs over before it's begunIf the dream is won --Though everything is lostWe will pay the price,But we will not count the costWhen the dust has clearedAnd victory deniedA summit too loftyRiver a little too wideIf we keep our pride --Though paradise is lostWe will pay the price,But we will not count the costAnd if the music stopsThere's only the sound of the rainAll the hope and gloryAll the sacrifice in vainIf love remainsThough everything is lostWe will pay the price,But we will not count the costWell, you can stake that claim --Good work is the key to good fortuneWinners take that praiseLosers seldom take that blameIf they don't take that gameAnd sometimes the winner takes nothingWe draw our own designsBut fortune has to make that frameRoll the bonesWhy are we here?Roll the bonesWhy does it happen?Roll the bonesFaith is cold as ice --Why are little ones born only to sufferFor the want of immunityOr a bowl of rice?Well, who would hold a priceOn the heads of the innocent childrenIf there's some immortal powerTo control the dice?Roll the bones..Jack -- relax.Get busy with the facts.No zodiacs or almanacs,No maniacs in polyester slacks.Just the facts.Gonna kick some gluteus max.It's a parallax -- you dig?You move aroundThe small gets big. It's a rigIt's action -- reaction --Random interaction.So who's afraidOf a little abstraction?Can't get no satisfactionFrom the facts?You better run, homeboy --A fact's a factFrom Nome to Rome, boy.What's the deal? Spin the wheel.If the dice are hot -- take a shot.Play your cards. Show us what you got --What you're holding.If the cards are cold,Don't go folding.Lady Luck is golden;She favors the bold. That's coldStop throwing stones --The night has a thousand saxophones.So get out there and rock,And roll the bones.Get busy!You turn my headI spin my wheelsRunning on empty --You know how that feelsAnd turn it up-- Or you can only back down-- Hit the target, or you better hit the ground-- There's still time to turn the game around-- Turn it up --Or turn that wild card downTurn it upDon't complainDon't explainI don't think my new resolveCan stand the strainAnd turn it upYou get all squeezed up insideLike the days were carved in stoneYou get all wired up insideAnd it's bad to be aloneYou can go out, you can take a rideAnd when you get out on your ownYou get all smoothed out insideAnd it's good to be aloneTurn it upWell, I was only a kid -- didn't know enough to be afraidPlaying the game, but not the way the big boys playedNothing to lose -- maybe I had something to tradeThe way the big wheel spinsWell, I was only a kid, on a holy crusadeI placed no trust in a faith that was ready-madeTake no chances on paradise delayedSo I do a slow fadePLAYING FOR TIMEDon't want to wait for heavenLOOKING FOR LOVEFor an angel to forgive my sinsPLAYING WITH FIREChasing something new to believe inLOOKING FOR LOVEThe way the big wheel spinsWell, I was only a kid, cruising around in a trancePrisoner of fate, victim of circumstanceI was lined up for glory, but the tickets sold out in advanceThe way the big wheel spinsWell, I was only a kid, gone without a backward glanceGoing for broke, going for another chanceHoping for heaven -- hoping for a fine romanceIf I do the right danceThe way the big wheel spinsAll around that dull gray worldFrom Moscow to BerlinPeople storm the barricadesWalls go tumbling inThe counter-revolutionPeople smiling through their tearsWho can give them back their livesAnd all those wasted years?All those precious wasted years --All around that dull gray worldOf ideologyPeople storm the marketplaceAnd buy up fantasyThe counter-revolutionAt the counter of a storePeople buy the things they wantAnd borrow for a little moreAll those wasted yearsAll those precious, wasted yearsWhat else can we do?Yes, I guess we doAll around this great big worldAll the crap we had to takeBombs and basement fallout sheltersAll our lives at stakeThe bloody revolutionAll the warheads in its wakeAll the fear and suffering --All a big mistakeAll those wasted yearsAll those precious, wasted yearsLike a million little doorwaysAll the choices we madeAll the stages we passed throughAll the roles we playedSo many different directionsOur separate paths might have turnedWith every door that we openedEvery bridge that we burnedI DON'T BELIEVE IN DESTINYOR THE GUIDING HAND OF FATEI DON'T BELIEVE IN FOREVEROR LOVE AS A MYSTICAL STATEI DON'T BELIEVE IN THE STARS OR THE PLANETSOR ANGELS WATCHING FROM ABOVEBUT I BELIEVE THERE'S A GHOST OF A CHANCEWE CAN FIND SOMEONE TO LOVEAND MAKE IT LASTLike a million little crossroadsThrough the backstreets of youthEach time we turn a new cornerA tiny moment of truthSo many different connectionsOur separate paths might have madeWith every door that we openedEvery game we playedYou just don't get itWhat it is ... well, you're not really sureYou move like you're walking on this iceTalking like you're still insecureTime is a spiral -- Space is a curveI know you get dizzy, but try not to lose your nerveLife is a diamond you turn into dustWaiting for rescue, and I know you justDon't get itNeurotica -- ExoticaIt's just Erotica -- HypnoticaIt's just Psychotica -- ChaoticaIt's just Exotica -- NeuroticaYou just don't get itBaby, don't you ask yourself why?If you don't like the answer -- forget itYou know I hate to see you cryFortune is random -- Fate shoots from the hipI know you get crazy, but try not to lose your gripLife is a diamond you turn into dustLooking for trust, and I know that you justDon't get itHide in your shell, let the world go to hellIt's like Russian roulette to youSweat running cold, you can't face growing oldIt's a personal threat to youThe world is a cage for your impotent rageBut don't let it get to youJune another hunter, like a wolf in the sunJust another junkie on a scoring runJust another victim of the things he has doneJust another day -- in the life of a loaded gun-- You name the game-- The stakes are the sameJust another winner, pours his life down the drainJust another island in a hurricaneJust another loser, like a cat in the rainJust another day -- in the path of a speeding train-- You name the game-- The stakes are the sameanarchist reactionary running-dog revisionisthindu muslim catholic creation/evolutionistrational romantic mystic cynical idealistminimal expressionist post-modern neo-symbolistarmchair rocket scientist graffiti existentialistdeconstruction primitive performance photo-realistbe-bop or a one-drop or a hip-hop lite-pop-metallistgold adult contemporary urban country capitalistJust another gypsy with a plastic guitarJust another dancer with her eyes on the starsJust another dreamer who was going too farJust another drunk -- at the wheel of a stolen car-- You name the game-- The stakes are the same