emperor of dystopia

disinfect me a postcard         issue me a missive        I can’t reach you           on this line           and I have no means of transportation            venomous snipers      nest in my shoes   but I have other shoes    and sometimes   I walk         and sometimes      I crawl        and sometimes      I don’t do anything at all             I’m not elastic enough       for a life in limbo       treading  water      dreading  time     I’m cutting out    for an alternative reality   where I’m the emperor of dystopia        the last living giant    on a planet filled with pygmies        our world is dying now       please help us knit a new one       before we run out of wool

poor cow

 

I was unaware of her darker dimensions    she’d been caught in the gaslight    but she wasn’t crazy    she was just weary       she made it easy for me to cross her killing floor    and told me with some certainty    that we had met before    we coupled in a frenzy    but in completely different zones

in the languorous haze    of the afternoon sun    I stared at her breasts    heaving as she drew each labouring breath beneath me     and I drove home my seed      there amidst the tall grass     and I hated her then     I loathed her      even as I wanted her    the flies surrounded     her corpulent flesh     I saw her dead in her rictus gaping     in the fecundity of her lust     and I knew it was over    before it had ever began

 listen to the Creature EP

Clockwork Monkey

I cannot explain my existence    I never learned the sequence     mine was a comic wilderness   filled with oppressive beings     high on illusionary power   bought and paid for with my sweat and toil    I was so tired of being shoehorned into those awkward instances      I turned on to the dark    to get my business fixed   some use smooth words for ragged purpose    they beguile to deceive     and I was only too willing to be deceived

 I’d seen his face before    but we all have    he served me black wine     I drank it greedily     straight from the bottle     it filled me up     and I became a beast myself  my face is fluid now    it can take on many forms     and though I speak with the tongue of angels      my heart is dark and empty     I’ve been totally locked out     but he has the master key

all words are instrumental     that’s what he taught me    the real power resides in the space between the curses   invocations   and fragrant lies   that’s the space between naked intent and imagination    words are snares for the unwary   but weapons in the hands of lovers   he had words to raise the dead    and to bury the living     he made me his sounding brass    he wound me counter clockwise    and set me against myself     just another clockwork monkey     clamouring for the sun  

sharks

she spoke red     it’s a very old trick    but it gets your attention     like a loaded gun      but whatever she said    I paid  no mind     it didn’t mean nothing     she was  just having fun      I’m the same     when it gets down to it     and it gets down to it     often enough

you have to dig deep    if you’re gonna crash out    but you got to stay sharp    when you slip your collar   you must forge your papers    and murder the past   we were both killers     honed to perfection    too well matched    to do no harm

they tell me baby sharks    eat their siblings    I know people     who are worse than that    they think they are special    because they feel no fear    that’s completely reflexive     but it sets them apart      I’ve  been bitten more than once      but she bit deepest       she could still take a piece        whenever she wants

villain

you shattered my illusions    well,  two can play at that game    don’t tread on my stones     I’m only setting my papers in order    because you murdered me   with innuendo   and confectionery lies     you tapped my wires       rifled my drawers   and embezzled my contents    just for the malice in it      

you took my anguish and fashioned it into nails     then you pinioned me on charges      no-one had ever heard of     but don’t cry baby    you were only doing your job     and I was only doing mine      my bones are heavy     from your excuses     you saw an opportunity     the same size as your boots       so you weighed in     I might have done the same  myself      if I were a cunt     

your new friends have hard junk faces    wrinkled dead like burst balloons     scary in their pit bull nightmares      full of toothless bite and spit       theirs is the zombie flesh rising     some say it tastes like chicken    but everybody knows it’s pork     I’d zap ‘em all straight in the fucking brain pan    rattle their sensitivities     the alky villains who stole my coat      looked just like you do     lonesome    confused      and in search of another hit

fear

 

acid flashback    piranha guts    I got the fear on    I’m all body quake   and adrenal expulsion    it’s that weary old fight or flight paradigm     but I go by the numbers     it’s just a question of time     before I shake it off

fear is the prime motivator      fear is the reflex action     it’s fear that makes the world go round      fear binds our colonies of fragile exiles   and legions of patient coffin fillers     macabre in our fleshy fascinations     nauseated by the shock of discovery    

there shall be no moment of rapture     the usual terms and conditions apply     there is only one enemy    and it shows no mercy      fear knows the darkest secrets that occupy our hearts      and births the tiny demons that tear our lives apart     there is but one commandment     it was forged here in the dark

 

bedlam

I’ve been writing rubber cheques again   no problem really   it’s the thought that counts   right?    I was looking for solutions   but only found new problems    they say all problems are illusions of the mind   I say the need for illusions runs deep    it’s far better to struggle with illusions than with reality

 

according to science   a couple of twisted chromosomes     make me a madman    but madmen are alright   madmen are trying to fix things    what kind of things?    tiny things   like lives    so stick a little nembutal up my arse    blur my edges    numb my nuts    sort me out with psycho quackery    help me find a better place

 

I know where the edge is     because I’ve been over    that’s how I ended up here   this place is bedlam   it’s full of madmen   but madness is relative    it all depends whose cage you are in   but I see you    can you see me?  I’m one of those chumps who think too deeply     clever men think clearly   but we madmen think deep

 

I’m being eaten slowly by my thoughts     consumed by my feelings   I wonder what it means to die   do I consider myself alive?     sometimes I want to flee this awful place    but the devil I know has a compelling argument   all things considered I’m better off where I am     just where else would a madman go?

dig it out (again)

I’m well versed in my A B C’s   but my motor function is heavy   and there are days on end    when my head just feels empty   so I’ll make for my special stash   where I keep a shovel ready   you have to dig it out    if you want to spread it thick   you have to spread it thick    if you want to dig it out

you’re in the control group   and they’re feeding you placebos   we’re getting high and getting there often   we tweak our brainstems in idle curiosity    drugs are the relentless engines of our creativity   and the universal panacea for many untold maladies

I’m not trying to steer anyone here   but if you’re dragging the low end   those state sponsored solutions   will only bring you down   I’ve got portable ecstasies     burning holes in my pockets    I think that it’s time for a simple benediction    so I’m taking solace from my favourite instrument    it’s so clean    it’s obscene     and it works like a tonic   it’s those pastures green   in the kingdom euphoric