1. |
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2. |
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he
he´s the one who catches all the birds
while the wind blows
with his endless nurturing
with his arms
his rocking shelter
his tone
brings the the burning bubbling soul
of the earth
to life
in his whisper
dances the soil
its earth loving dance
and they all gather around him
when the water falls through his fingers
he stretches his branches
and they all breathe
together.
he
he´s the king of the plants
beside me
his wisdom stands (x2)
day after day
we sway
through the eternal play
day after day after day
we sway.
he's the king of the plants.
yey.
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3. |
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i think it's october
but i can't be sure
the days are much greyer
than those gone before.
god never spoke
told no stories at all
soon all the trees in the world
will fall.
i created my ghosts
from drinking the rain
i choke back the tears, but
they come all the same.
through gauze, the world seeps
in colour and bloom
load that last shell
i had saved
just for you.
credits
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4. |
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5. |
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I dream awake
When you put me in that horrid little place
I can't turn off
I can't turn on
I can't turn in.
I court the spiders
in the fated space
under your bed
with the dust bunnies from your head
cobwebs skein between the stars
you're taking me apart
in cupboards
beneath the stairs
unblinking in the dark
I wish to sleep you away.
Without breath
And gravity
And sound
And light
I simply don't exist.
circuitry
is killing me
yet keeping me alive.
circuitry
RAM certainty
erase you from the drive.
circuitry.
no gravity.
nor air to breathe.
just
circuitry.
numb, dumb, I wait
abridged of sighs
In
cramped dumb waiters
for the night I die.
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6. |
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suddenly i want to hold you again
and the moment is perfect
both transient and tangible
i'm head over heels
and i love how it feels
october pitched wild
flutter, black butterflies
falling through colours and sparks
a gazillion fireworks
exploding
in backseats of cars
in dreams, i have legs
stabilizers removed
step in front of the truck
with nothing to lose...
laugh out loud
they shoot horses
don't they?
disguise in love
with a boy half my age
wallflowers wilting
on hot summer days
no longer needing
those shadows
to retreat into
once songs drop their tempo
and there's no-one to cling to.
save me the slow one
and i'll blog you on tuesday
stream you a kiss
maybe win you a goldfish.
laugh out loud
they shoot horses
don't they?
disguise in love
and it's love in disguise
but the chat-rooms are full
and this ain't real life
trawling through blindspots
and holes in the land of the blind
just to dance with you
leading this time
and i daren't even crawl
from behind my firewall
and the headlights stretch
into infinity
transfixing
me.
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7. |
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"Nada,
play for me,
vamp those ivories..."
we finger our braille...
form flesh out of clay
we move across skin...
of a beautiful face
the leaves in our hair
trade gold for the green
cradle the bump
that isn't yet me.
nada,
nada, da.
It's time to touch the stars.
we get tactile.
open the watch
to fathom out days
the tickle of spiders
in fear of the cave
should we resist
the itch in our loins?
recoil from the clinch
at the taste of old coins
nada,
nada, da.
in the dark corners of bars.
nada,
nada, da
we melt in backs of cars
we get tactile."
nada,
nada, da.
in mysteries of scars
nada, nada, da
blink, blink away the dark.
we get tactile."
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8. |
Tomboymilk
03:42
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here hides the stump of my family tree.
here’s where it ends with the enemy gene.
still, i’m wearing men’s clothes
and my worn-down flat heels
as they tell me to be who they want me to be.
sugar.
so i bandage myself into bruised twisted shapes
shear off all my bangs but left if too late.
but the bulge in the front is just wishful and fake
when you forced me to show,
you then just had to take.
with your snips n your snails
and your sick puppy's tail.
freckles on the shoulders
soft skin and silk.
speckled in the clover
tomboymilk.
so i daren’t put on make-up and i daren’t shave my legs
but you shot me with something and left me for dead.
and there burns the spot
where i silently slept
where i’ll scrub till I'm clean and nobody's left.
there’s no use crying over
soft skin and silk.
there’s no use crying over
anything spilt.
there’s no use crying over.
tomboymilk.
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9. |
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10. |
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11. |
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12. |
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13. |
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feels like a stranger laying hands
circling sticky sugar floors
skin tunes trickle
on demand
dumb blooms
in deep
sleep,
watery warm.
dubbed,
a stranger speaking tongues
through opiate castrati pall
become the creature in the kunst
lost in dots
in seething crawl.
a tingle in
the phantom limb
in the flesh
but not my skin.
fumble notgeld into slots
let pixels tumble into flesh
seems that i'm the stranger being led
a merry dance
in vhs.
i hold back but have no choice
now listen to my voice
ghosts for real
blood-line congealed
bath-house echoes
stranger still.
will you show me yours?
if i can't show you mine
gurgle angel songs
through spiraling pink foam?
the last days of testosterone
how time ran out
tore for you
a hole.
fainter now, my footprints in the snow
the last days of testosterone
credits
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14. |
Stoma (Harold Nono RMX)
03:51
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15. |
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16. |
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she cast her shame too long
born of a billion suns
this then, nada’s blood, i tasted once
hibakusha
barely one of us
the rain falls darker in black-red dimes
breathing in her exhaled fire
i turn away
can’t take those eyes
spurned and burning till the end of time
...and in the blindness, black sticky rage
she stands alone outside all pain
hibakusha
in fevre dreams
she sees for no-one
she sees for me
burning footprints in sand turned glass
ashen whorls shucked off in the blast
loved at last: razed, unmasked
hibakusha
part future, part past.
and in the howling, consumed in flames
we cleave in silence, raptured, deranged
hibakusha
in feral dreams
she burns for no-one
she burns for me.
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17. |
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18. |
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19. |
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20. |
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hold me closely
as the last wave takes me
as though we were lovers
but there's spaces in-between us.
the crotch of my heart shrivelled in impotence
touched the devil tree.
i wither
shiver
out of phase with this shackle of days.
i can't turn to love you
in the way that you want me to
i can't bear to touch you.
glow,
a queer moon for you.
man-fire
hang fire
a kiss like samphire.
o, darkest atlantis
each little death played out with regret.
if i reached out my hand
could i even touch you?
heaving
seething
the sins of the fathers.
adam fleshed
eve red
both cherished and wasted
i roll over and play dead...
betrothed...
betrayed, a queer moon.
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21. |
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unbegotten
still breathing sand
tabala rasa,
for our mystery man.
crawling, all-fours
past wind-whupped signs
over bleached ox skulls
all hazed in flies
stucco walls house molten smiles, for the
fucked up, hallowed
guano christ.
as he dreams
of horses
all ablaze
she could steal a kiss
but nada wait
those parched lips move
nothing comes
mouthing
german syllables.
"who am i?
ummm..."
"what am i?
ummm..."
desultory thoughts
trace memory gauze
the z words swirl
but don't quite form
from endless loops
cast monster or god
as the dustcloud settles
things best forgot.
"who am i?
ummm..."
"what am i?
ummm..."
"and as i dreamed of him
dream a dream of me
yea, through the vale,
veiled with tears
which one of us is real?"
but,
on his torso
raised, angry, red
the scarlet letter
was always
'z'.
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MANGABROS.™ UK
“...brave and uncompromising”
(Bill Nelson)
“...really good shit that brings
back fond memories of places I’ve never been, which is something interesting music always should do...”
(Grandaddy)
"the bones of burroughs & rhinehart, ground up and snorted...these are 'songs' but not as we know 'em..."
"...deliciously deranged..."
(C4)
"FANTASTIC!!!"
(Efterklang)
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