Get me back into Tom Waits

So come on in
It ain't no sin
Take off your skin
And dance around your bones

I wrote something four years ago that you might like. Excerpt:

Tom Waits had a long career as a barroom troubadour, singing lyrics influenced by Beat poetry, minstrel music and Hoagy Carmichael. By the early 80s he collaborated with his new wife, playwright Kathleen Brennan, and seemed to discover Captain Beefheart on Swordfishtrombones (1983) and Rain Dogs (1985). On Franks Wild Years (1987), he shows signs of transcending his influences with the poetic "Blow Wind Blow" and "Cold Cold Ground," which manages to evoke a powerful autumnal nostalgia with plenty of surrealistic imagery. Bone Machine (1992) is Waits at his undeniable peak. Ripe with morbid imagery, the album is his most consistent statement -- truly a definitive document of autumnal music. As the title suggests, the sounds suggest sinister rattling bones and scorched earth, not unlike Beefheart's Ice Cream For Crow. The albums starts with full-blown apocalypse with "The Earth Died Screaming," with the menacing clacking sound of an army of skeletons. The bleak resignation of "Dirt In The Ground" contemplates death in every earthy, wormy detail. "Black Wings," a song about either a mass murderer or the grim reaper, summarizes the mood of the album -- "When the moon is a cold chiseled dagger/Sharp enough to draw blood from a stone/He rides through your dreams on a coach/And horses and the fence posts/In the moonlight look like bones." Waits was on a roll, and the next year he collaborated on an operetta with William S. Burroughs and Robert Wilson, called The Black Rider (1993). Those unfortunate enough to miss the live production that only appeared in New York and Germany, were consoled with Wait's versions of the music originally written to be performed by the cast. The Black Rider tells the tale of a circus carny named George Schmid who is challenged to a duel to the death over a woman, and sells his soul to the devil for a set of magic bullets in order to ensure his victory. Much of the music is even more evocative and spooky that Bone Machine. In "The Black Rider," a ghoulish barker invites you into the big top where he'll "drink your blood like wine" and "use your skull for a bowl." Practically an ode to autumn, "November" sets the mood -- "November/It only believes/In a pile of dead leaves/And a moon/That's the color of bone." "Just The Right Bullets" is sung from the perspective of the devil, in an appropriately frightening voice. "Crossroads" finds George negotiating with the devil. The music is perfectly executed in its rustic glory by a chamber band, complete with a theramin or bowed saw that invokes spells and apparitions of dancing ghosts. "Oily Night" recalls the nightmarish imagery of Henry Fuseli, lending the claustrophobic feeling of being buried in a pigpile of goblins and trolls.

Looking forward to what people here suggest.

You mean like the Jason Mraz thread?

I don't think you'll be disappointed.

"Belly of a Drunken Piano," actually:
http://www.villagevoice.com/theater/0536,thmccombs,67537,11.html

And those were days of roses,
Of poetry and prose and Martha
All I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows,
We'd packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.

And I feel so much older now,
And you're much older too,
How's your husband?
How's the kids?
You know that I got married too?
Lucky that you found someone
To make you feel secure,
'Cause we were all so young and foolish,
Now we are mature.

And those were the days of roses,
Poetry and prose and Martha
All I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows,
We'd packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.

And I was always so impulsive,
I guess that I still am,
And all that really mattered then
Was that I was a man.
I guess that our being together
Was never meant to be.
And Martha, Martha,
I love you can’t you see?

And those were the days of roses,
Poetry and prose and Martha
All I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows,
We packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.

And I remember quiet evenings
Trembling close to you...

Now what's that sound from under the door?
He's pounding nails into a
Hardwood floor... and I
Swear to god I heard someone
Moaning low... and I keep
Seeing the blue light of a
T.V. show...
He has a router
And a table saw... and you
Won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw
There's poison underneath the sink
Of course... But there's also
Enough formaldehyde to choke
A horse... What's he building
In there. What the hell is he
Building in there? I heard he
Has an ex-wife in some place
Called Mayors Income, Tennessee
And he used to have a
consulting business in Indonesia...
but what is he building in there?
What the hell is building in there?

He has no friends
But he gets a lot of mail
I'll bet he spent a little
Time in jail...
I heard he was up on the
Roof last night
Signaling with a flashlight
And what's that tune he's
Always whistling...
What's he building in there?
What's he building in there?

We have a right to know...

see, I hate Tom Waits with every ounce of my being. But.. at a NYE party I was very stoned and this repetitive mouth sound hypnotic track came on. I checked the iTunes and was surprised it was Tom Waits. Didn't he do some sort of beatbox album or was this from something earlier?

This needs some kind of justification. How on earth can you hate Tom Waits?

I like Bone Machine though, it's so overwrought. And "Big in Japan" is a treat.