1. |
Warm Moon Residue
04:06
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I can't sleep tonight
The moon is looking bright
I can almost see it dripping on me
In the drawers wither socks
And the floor's getting hot
Warm moon residue
Lands upon everyone
Well it's a troubling smell indeed
The moon begins to bleed
There's moon miasma dripping on me
Where the cuffs are rolled up
And the cups are old muck
Warm moon residue
Lands upon everyone
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2. |
Devil's In The Trail
03:28
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There's a surge of strange headwear
Rushing up from Edgeware
Postured in the bed's glare
Through the windows where the feds stare
They come from magic harbours
To relegate our barbers
They're unlucky but they'd rather
See it as a search for karma
Devils in the breadcrumbs
They've come to suck your thumbs
Devil's in the trail
Never in the detail
With them they carry big brass buckets
When they see a door they shut it
Throw the contents of the bucket
So the door gets blue all up it
For the onion chopping locals
Percussion drowns out their vocals
Others heed not their proposals
Merely shower them in opals
Devils in the breadcrumbs
They've come to suck your thumbs
Devil's in the trail
Never in the detail
Sometimes the devil is good
If you can use him you should
Headwear as strange as you like
Give me your thumb to suck
'Cos they'll have your life
And they'll steal your bike
Devil's in the trail
Never in the detail
No one else smells quite like this
No one else is so scentless
This is not my food to eat
Block my nose my scentless sweet
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3. |
Bucket Of Sick
04:41
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Is it kitsch to consume a bucket of sick?
Record's 10 - bet you I can do it in 6
It's a weird skill to have as a party trick
The things we do just to get a kick
Nothing changes when we're naked. Like a pair of red plastic party cups we're designed to slot together. We're all the same height lying down. Take a urinal cake and use it to sweeten your tea. Piss slushy with a plastic straw. Textural harmony for plastic music. Plastic music for plastic dancers. Plastic dancers for unknown pleasures. You're no Equipment Smith. Weaponised plasticism is wherever the cuffs are rolled up and the cups are old muck. Beware the belated coming of the plastic horsemen of the apocalypse. Sing Hosannah to the King of Kings when Funko Pop Jesus rides again. Do you wanna be recycled? 'Cos I do.
I found keys that our locks just don't fit
And I knew something was off when we last kissed
I could taste in your mouth unfamiliar spit
Now I'm just a bucket of sick
Careful or I just might deconstruct your world
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4. |
Deconstructed House Cat
06:04
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Sheena
An outright believer
I told her to sit tight
I told her that outright
I promised reassurance
She promised a long night
Soft speak
Do ghosts make the loft creak
Is a memory alive here?
Did a memory die here?
Who's the woman with no teeth?
Did you see her arrive here?
Real talk
Did the doors make you lock?
Did the walls make you rot?
Does the building sound distraught?
Do the floorboards make noises?
Are you coddled by voices?
Sheena
They called you a phenom
But they're all so unseeing
Made you practice your breathing
Not that anyone cares
Up the old attic stairs
It's time
We all went to bed
With new hopes
And new horrors
Turned ourselves in
What games do you play
In your deconstructed games room?
What notes are written
In your deconstructed study?
Do you wipe your shoes
On a deconstructed door mat?
What cat food do you feed
Your deconstructed house cat?
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5. |
Type Of Flower
00:31
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And when you showed me the flower
I said, "I've seen that type of flower before"
I don't know where I've seen it though
Could it be true
That I dreamt up the flower when I dreamt up you?
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6. |
Chris DeBlue, Part One
02:11
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Ticking time bomb
Ticking boxes
Frozen tube
What you got?
Chris DeBlue, don't you go to work
Workers funnelled
Underground
Frozen tube
While you're down
Chris DeBlue, don't you go to work
If I were you, I'd stay on my turf
Ha ha ha ha ha
Scratch the nails right
Off your fingers
Don't be mad at
Someone's wall
Chris DeBlue, don't you go to work
If I were you, I'd stay on my turf
Oh yeah
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7. |
Chris DeBlue, Part Two
03:36
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My heart's in my work
I work in a building
I live in a building
The home's where the heart is
La la la la la
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8. |
Dust Mask
01:25
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Up the Bailey, I'm in a dust mask, hard for the wind to hear
I remember losing a lot of drugs to the wind down there
And a part of my functionality for some river kicks
Tried to show my internal flame but all that came out was sick
I stopped talking when it occurred to me that they're all still there
Turned to let the wind fill my dusk mask
I bolted out of there like a bitch
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9. |
Sixteen Mysteries
08:51
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I'm a breathing exercise
And i wear a look of soup
I'm a subway sandwich board
I've got sixteen mysteries
I'm a lunge into the deep
I'm a council housing scheme
I'm a distance from the sea
I've got sixteen mysteries
I'm sleeping on the deck
I'm extending my neck
I'm an outstanding chef
I've got 12 cigarettes left
Without peanuts I am weak
Without oxygen I breathe
I've got sixteen mysteries
I'm a tale of six cities
I'm complacent yet pissy
I've never thrown up
I coined the phrase 'whoops'
I've been to the moon
I'm here all afternoon
I emerged from a pond
I'm infinity but not beyond
I can photosynthesise
I can remove my eyes
I've got sixteen mysteries
Will you be my seventeenth?
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Spider Noises Durham, UK
Slithering slowly skyward like a slug up a flagpole.
Photo by Zachary Hinson
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