Fuck. Fuck.
Some Girls is playing. I think it's Beautiful Rune. I'm warped right now. Sun-baked, sun-bleached, and sun-burned, my vision is blurry and it was a mistake to buy alcohol. I'm guzzling water--
I'm pounding water into my system. I can't piss. I'm trying, my piss is dark yellow and smells fucking foul.
As sun and dove devour.... bat and moon if we stay on this road, we'll find religion soon...
This music isn't soothing. It's harsh, abrasive, usually something good for me to listen to when I'm in an awful and distasteful mood. But this isn't a normal bad feeling, this is something else I can't put my finger on. It's large, but completely benign to me. I'm not affected by it, but I want to bite another human at the moment.
I plant the seeds... that flower in veins... destined down black-lit bathroom drains...
I was a chimney sweep today.
We tore down monolithic brick structures... I clambered into and then out of a dark, damp cave with just a flashlight and a vacuum hose... I climbed up towering ladders--
We couldn't escape the sun. The sun. Oh the fucking sun today.
Who will fuck when these people are gone... who will fuck when these people are gone...
That lyric echoes in my brain, and I go into deep thought of life after humanity and I actually search for an answer to the question. It's hypothetical, I tell myself. But I keep digging deeper. Suddenly, Wesley Eisold answers the question for me and chants it for the last five minutes of the song with the rest of the band:
Ape... ape... ape... ape... ape... ape... ape...
I've gone far past the barrier of a trance; I'm completely lost. It's a narcotic rush I experience naturally, and find myself wondering when I am going to go see that movie about Myanmar with Mary--I think we have tickets for tomorrow at noon, and I've already agreed to work a full day. I shrug this off with another sip of Jim Beam, and begin my stagger into bed.
It will all come out in the wash, I tell myself, then aloud: "It will all come out of her squash..."
I am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
Some Girls is playing. I think it's Beautiful Rune. I'm warped right now. Sun-baked, sun-bleached, and sun-burned, my vision is blurry and it was a mistake to buy alcohol. I'm guzzling water--
I'm pounding water into my system. I can't piss. I'm trying, my piss is dark yellow and smells fucking foul.
As sun and dove devour.... bat and moon if we stay on this road, we'll find religion soon...
This music isn't soothing. It's harsh, abrasive, usually something good for me to listen to when I'm in an awful and distasteful mood. But this isn't a normal bad feeling, this is something else I can't put my finger on. It's large, but completely benign to me. I'm not affected by it, but I want to bite another human at the moment.
I plant the seeds... that flower in veins... destined down black-lit bathroom drains...
I was a chimney sweep today.
We tore down monolithic brick structures... I clambered into and then out of a dark, damp cave with just a flashlight and a vacuum hose... I climbed up towering ladders--
We couldn't escape the sun. The sun. Oh the fucking sun today.
Who will fuck when these people are gone... who will fuck when these people are gone...
That lyric echoes in my brain, and I go into deep thought of life after humanity and I actually search for an answer to the question. It's hypothetical, I tell myself. But I keep digging deeper. Suddenly, Wesley Eisold answers the question for me and chants it for the last five minutes of the song with the rest of the band:
Ape... ape... ape... ape... ape... ape... ape...
I've gone far past the barrier of a trance; I'm completely lost. It's a narcotic rush I experience naturally, and find myself wondering when I am going to go see that movie about Myanmar with Mary--I think we have tickets for tomorrow at noon, and I've already agreed to work a full day. I shrug this off with another sip of Jim Beam, and begin my stagger into bed.
It will all come out in the wash, I tell myself, then aloud: "It will all come out of her squash..."
I am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
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