1. |
Yummy Tadpoles
02:58
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2. |
Flex
03:15
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First incision, delivered by a blade
Dragged into light
I kick my life away
I’m angry can’t you see
Upset the apple cart
Square peg in a round hole
It doesn’t fit at all
(I kick it over, I kick it out
I kick it over, I kick it out
I kick to start, just watch me flex
Watch me flex…)
Seeking comfort in the fist
Like a babe to the nipple
Hackles rise, uneasiness
And the atmosphere ripples
I’m flexing flab in code
And we surround the prey
Fight for first hit
There is no other way
There is no other way
The meat on my fist
Also fills my head
And all the blood I spill
It becomes my bed
Home is where the heart is
Home is where they fall
(You’re the fear I need
Watch me flex)
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3. |
Halo of Flies
02:05
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4. |
||||
C.M.E (LOVE SONG)
…And on a wet day, the universe contracts
to the size of the room I’m in
About this big and so high
And on a dull day, the universe fades
To a puddle the colour of dung…
Which reminds me,
I surprise you,
The soil it grows for me,
The rain it falls for me,
The world exists for me,
You creatures die for me,
You never question why,
I never question why,
Yon never question why,
I never question why
And on a hot day, the universe reverts
To the colour of blood,
Of the blood I spill,
About this red, about this warm,
About this red, about this warm...
Something to ruminate,
Something to inseminate,
Something to mutilate,
SOMETHING TO MUTILATE
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5. |
Stumbles Around
03:38
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stumbles around…those dark empty eyes
No embers just ashes…he sees me
No time for pity…own self to blame
Wearing shoe souls…they see me
(He’s nothing, she’s shit, they fascinate…
a junkie, a saint as they stumble
…around)
Dissolving away…first a tooth, then a face
With his radio off, he can hear things
To the people around them
They’re a sorry mistake
(angels all burnt out and fallen from…
angel’s all burnt out and fallen from
…grace)
they’re nothing, they’re shit
just flotsam adrift
wino’s and saint’s
with their halo’s askew
they’re nothing, they’re shit
just flotsam adrift
angel’s all burnt out
and fallen from grace
Part of a person…stumble around
Moth to lighthouse…phantom earth-bound
Blood like water…washed out, fading
Carry no burdens…dissolving away
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6. |
Cubist Cop
03:20
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7. |
Slug Matador
02:55
|
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Sick of the night
We dream of light
Tired of slime
We want our time
Place in the sun
Sand, salt & sun
Fascists must die
Artists shall fry
Cubist hat cop
Hemmingway stop
Needing no bull
Dali so dull
We want your wet
We want your moisture
We want your sweat
We want your time
(We want the red, the gold, the brocade
we want your lives, we want you dead)
we are the horned, glistens our trail
so as we slide, lick holy grail
we are the soft, leathery lipped
we are the strong, feathery tipped.
(we want y’wet, we want y’moisture, we want y’dead)
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8. |
Pig-man
02:14
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9. |
Balsa-wood Bob
04:12
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10. |
Sleepy Time
03:37
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11. |
Idle (Remix)
05:48
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12. |
Country Death Clown
04:31
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13. |
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14. |
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15. |
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16. |
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17. |
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18. |
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19. |
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20. |
Unnamed (Rehearsal 1988)
02:08
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