Heavy thunderous raindrops. Smash, plop. Smash, plop. Heightened pitch and frequency. That small ray of sunshine that breaks through the pitch black clouds. I see Avon in a park, in a haze. A simple mind, yeah, to string you up and cut you down. Whistling past, headphones in, doo do do do doo. A perfect simple vision of rolling thunder to let you know that I'm a free range human displaying tame. I string 'em up, I cut 'em down, dare I say? Slowly whistling past, turn and smile at you. Catch can twist leg behind. Collapse and fall, collapse and fall, collapse and twirl and fall.
Don't I know this? Simple beginnings that fill up into familiar movements down. I remember being pushed and quizzed by a physics teacher aged 14. He'd make us copy down notes from the board and then castigated us for not pointing out the mistakes he'd made. I felt chewed out and just didn't want it. If only.. nothing at all. A few years pass. So blow my mind for making me lazy and all those days with no escaping. I held the wheel and let it go, didn't wanna stop don't know why I did. I got chewed out, but just don't blame me. If only, nothing at all.
I took. Some time. To make a head. Programmed. From oaths and I. Wish we. Would get away. Drink wine and screw. Fire tickle bane, Hobbes can refrain. I knew someone else before. Looked a lot like you. And they're gone, and I'm gone; in space. All these the oaths that I said before. Were loose in my head. Just whirling, wheezing and breathing, so rise and take your post. You knew someone else before, looked a lot like me. And they're gone, and I'm now, in space. My dad. Who? Likes this.. Bit. For the. Huh? Drone of... It.
Empty phone tones on a dead line. You would know. Blurry eyes out of focus, living on tinned baked beans. We just happy robots, cut from same cloth, ripping at the seams. Cut/snip. Smile, laugh but don't touch. Cut/cut/cut. You would know. Oh.. Shotgun loaded, got crosshairs in his eyes – ain't no big surprise. You would know. Dead streets handed to you. Gold beams gleam in the sun. Empty handed cold child waiting. Waitings for pills for her eyes. You would know. You would know. You would know.
Crackling reception. Mumbled words. Just the sweetest, dirtiest tone. Rumbles down below. Visions of future self kicking it along with ease to this. Too late to think or filter any more. And you've got it alright. Pfft. Let it go. A bitter pill to swallow baby you're. But you can't hear it. It's got a lot to do with many more infiltrations and maybe down the line, maybe we'll... if you're not glad of it, how can we remove your dread? So come on let us show to you how to handle a rope. Cos I've got it alright, tch. I've got a feeling that your devils and ropes around my neck won't even know.
Fat body after fat body after fat body after fat body thrown in a heap against a cell wall. In a prison. In Mexico. Dos cerveza, por favor. Said it was a setting Sun in a land of gold, the burning eyes of Mexicola. It's a terrible lie, but what she said was true – there's nothing out there. Keep saying – go out, keep saying – go out, keep saying – you won't live forever. Oh yeah and don't I know just what you mean, in a world that's full of shit and gasoline. Well one dog's dead, grandad's on the phone so I think we'll just leave it alone. It's that same old cell again, I hate its cosiness. Keep saying -
Future participle, future participle. Future participle, future participle. Subject object verb, subject object verb, genitive genitive, subject object verb, subject object verb, subject object verb. Future participle, future participle. Subject object verb, subject )object( verb. Future participle. Subject [object] verb. Subject [object] *verb*(Subject) {object} *verb*. Future participle, future participle. Subject object verb, subject ;object verb;. Genitive genitive. Subject object
This was a mistake, but who knows? Followed your friends, but you were not there. Followed your home, laid in an empty bed cos I want you to notice when I'm not around. Wherever you are. And then a long moaning sound of a slight pine followed by a barely shifting tone of whining agony. Looks like rain again – nights inside keeping warm by the smoke. You're solid gold, see you in Hell
From memory it never actually states what it is that the mule wants, but it's fun nonetheless.
A giant, sick, bald-headed baby with his face stuck to the floor. Cradling the enamel rim of the toilet, trying to direct his piss away and into a rusty old bathtub. And everyone outside in the corridor hums a melodic, stomach-churning accompaniment. Puke and shit stain his surroundings. The rest just keep on humming. A phone rings and whoever picks it up is chanting in foreign loops and white noise because apart from the odd word the noise is cracking this baby's skull.
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Bonus Track.
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