1. |
i'll meet you there
04:53
|
|
||
|
chasing a fawn through my fantasies
i follow close at your heels
i cannot sleep, i cannot eat
while i fuck you on the astral plane
singing in one voice
picking at our scabs
the time we spent in that emerald box
lights my imagination on fire
whispering strange medicine
as saturn enters aquarius again
singing in one voice
picking at our scabs
i’ve never seen my dreams reflected in a lover's eyes
two perverts exposing traumas caged by our complexes
and musing on the 7 of cups
i found a secret place to masturbate together
christ makes love to oedipus
dream with me, i'll meet you there
|
||||
2. |
goddess of wrath
02:44
|
|
||
|
goddess of wrath
i heard you pissing on the stream
it broke my heart seeing flaxen locks
so divorced from yourself
as a projection box
master of chaos
goddess of wrath
your victims admire you
your lovers revile you
who love you
who pity your fury
i see myself in your mutilated halves
i hear my heart song through your rage
if only i could harm with half as much grace
the beauty in your hate
goddess of wrath
i long for you
like oil in water
like lamb to slaughter
|
||||
3. |
|
|||
|
i've been dancing with that ghost baby
whose mother's narcissism animates his shadow
i've been telling him “you're safe, i am here to protect you”
because a toddler doesn't understand their parents’ neurosis
he only knows his fever dreams followed by the grave
he is confused and afraid
i do not fret i do not hide from that young one who died
in the center of the courtyard there is a grave that contains
all the wrath of she who could have anything earthly she desired
except that gem of her heart:
a lineage to follow in her fame
so in her grasp she orchestrated a secret necromancy
and now her progeny will never be free
so i've been dancing with that ghost baby
because toddlers need to play
and children need a space
where they can be ok
and though he's bound to haunt this place
for his mother's selfishness and pride
i am lucky i have found a little peace inside
because i am free to walk away from the nightmare of my youth
but this little specter will never know the truth
|
||||
4. |
i am i
02:41
|
|
||
|
lightning in the sky
i am i
sequencing my body to fold repeatedly
to find the thread,
the fibers that sew together being
repeating the sequence
in my waking and dreaming life
so when i die i am familiar with the process
a hole must be dug before a tree can be planted
before a seed can root
so too a hunger must arise before it can be satiated
lighting in the sky
i am i
i follow this sequence every night and day
folding and kneading the clay
until my fingers tell me where to touch myself
to heal the wounds in my psychic body
so that when i die i am familiar with the process
when i come to the internal fountain
and bathe my dissonant parts in the ever flowing waters
i am repeating a process echoed through time
lightning in the sky
i am i
healing fingers in the clay of my body
the roots of seeds sew together being
cleansing dissonant processes
repeating the sequence of my body
imagining my own light protecting me as whole
lightning in the sky
i am i
|
||||
5. |
technopathy
03:18
|
|
||
|
there is a crystal vibrating in this machine
at regular intervals because of its molecular structure
it can hold and transmit energy from friction or heat
this box sings because of piezoelectricity
do you hear the hum? it feels like it's inside of me
i listen to the crystal prism
this living sound mounded by my hand
it sings for me the melody of my heart
sound is a being made of resonance
i can speak to the machine spirit
the low hum, the etheric ring
i can listen and understand her call
this sound is alive
and with my hand i help it thrive
|
||||
6. |
the waxing moon
03:42
|
|
||
|
low on the horizon she's draped in tulle
and her belly is bloated and full
like an eye clouded with cataracts
so arresting is her stare
like a signpost in the sky
so generous is her care
watching over my shoulder as i find my way back home
she follows me until i'm in the zone
my mother, she sees me
my protector, she frees me
lips of a blushing goddess,
whose face changes as the days decay
which charts my progress night and day
as i carve and weave my path
through the tall reeds of grass
to piss in the reflecting pool of the moon
the clouds parted from the gloom
bathing me in her cleansing glow.
i know i was born in that illuminated grove
|
||||
7. |
the box of masks
10:59
|
|
||
|
the only light let in is from the storm outside
i find myself drowning in a sea of costumes
each new face a friend to faces i meet
a box full of masks in the center of my house which represent my multiplicity
there is a face of mine which is mercurial,
behind the curtain
project on me whatever you imagine
in the place where my face is missing
i fried my brain trying to cure myself
and found out that i can be anyone at all
people used to tell me they thought they imagined me
will i ever meet anyone who can love me for all of who i am?
i have to selectively hide facets of myself
there is a new wardrobe for every engagement
i change my outfit 4our times a day
and crawl into bed naked and exhausted at the end of the night
to the dull sound of ambient rainstorm
i'm weeping while i masturbate
and i'll never cum
in the place where my face is missing
|
||||
8. |
empty touch
12:01
|
|
||
|
green fluorescent light cast on a concrete wall
cocooned in the isolation sofa
i pack another bowl
to fill another hole
touch is like an echo through the caverns of my mind
the memory of another time
i must remember to turn the lights off one by one
on my journey back to corporeality
but as i sobered up i packed another bowl
and filled another hole
i cried enough to manifest my sadness
and then drank that entity
i screamed enough to manifest my anger
and then burned that effigy
i could not cum hard enough to manifest my gladness
and so i packed another bowl
to fill that empty hole
narrow passage filled with waste
a dim orange bulb swings
to cast linoleum nightmares
as my double vision illustrates
these things i have inside of me
i have to look at in the half light
there are things i'm hiding from myself
there are parts of me that only come out
when you call that demon by its name
but i don't speak the language of those dreams
so i fill another hole
and pack another bowl
|
||||
9. |
cynthia weeping
29:45
|
|
||
Skoddie recommends:
If you like Skoddie, you may also like:
Live on WHPK Pure Hype
by Pig Sweat
supported by 14 fans who also own “Cynthetic Delirium”
go to album
supported by 14 fans who also own “Cynthetic Delirium”
This release just has this strong presence that grabs the listener's attention, yet doesn't feel overwhelming. Each track flows into the next flawlessly, so while they're all good on their own, their sum is next level. Great production!
go to album
supported by 13 fans who also own “Cynthetic Delirium”
go to album
Fractured Whole
by Cruel Diagonals
Every sound here is made using Megan Mitchell's voice, even though the music often sounds more like Earth’s vibrations than a human singing.
go to album
Me and the Glassbirds
by Heejin Jang
The Doom Trip label never misses, and the latest LP from the genius Heejin Jang is a trip into thrilling industrial terror.
go to album
