1. DRAWING DOWN THE RAIN

I can hear them ranting
Like a choir of angels, those cunts

Not singing nor dancing here;
All eyes down for the casting
Spell trough scraped dry

Practising our sincerest sorrows;
All full faced to the grind of stone

The drag of that inert through toil of chained wrought sinew
Ragged faces turned up to the rain
Staring down; drawing down the rain
Staring down; drawing down the rain
Drawing down the rain
Drawing down

All our ears are open / all our eyes are smiling
Gracelessly receiving empty threats of heaven

As grist to and from these dark Satanic mills
A barren wasteland dreamt through streets of prescription mist
There is no attenuating this
No attenuating this

Holes in the heart of this city
Holes

Drawing down the rain

Heaven calling; calling through sewer-gratings


2. HIVE MINDLESS

Yeah, so my skull's just a coffin for the corpse of my brain
Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain
Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes
Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies

Witch!

Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to!

Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens
Raise a glass to the face of the past
He who Dares, well he doesn't always win
Crescendo or something to usher the past in

All a'jolt to the march half thought;
Sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught

All a'limbs a'roll, a'howl;
Roll these bones down, funerary style

All who wonder, all a'twitch
Ride the dreaded cliché switch

We belong dead

Yeah, so my skull's just a coffin for the corpse of my brain
Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain
Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes
Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies

Gather round, gather round, gasp the dust from my bones,
Snort your derision, dance the jitter dance encrusted with bugs
Listening in to your silence, distorting dial-tone / white noise waiting list
Rolling these bones against the door to halt the grating whistling of the wind

Grating whistling of the wind


3. A BLAZE OF HAMMERS

Fuck you and the worms you rode in on

This double vision is dividing all thought
If this cortex is remotely cerebral,
I'll eat the mind from under your hat

Once in separation, all eyes all over the place
These place These place These place

Never quite sure whether I fear to tread
Or just quite where to tread

There is no product that can shine this condition;
Though the colour running through these streets
Is a shite to behold I'll tell you

Ride the worms with me

If all is soil of creation and all our every particle,
All intermingled is but a happy dust storm,
Waiting to disappear up a willing god's nose
- Then where should the faithful stand?
I suppose it's irrelevant to a grain of sand

How are beings of pure sound to retune their nervous wreckage
A golden ratio of broken radios / twists, ticks and twitches
Into the frequency that tunes us all?

Universal note, no, no - ground black
Distortion / Spirit contortion

Attenuator twisted hard right Spit-balled through the night
All spirit full volume Silence sold out to the man, man

In flux with transcendence
To rise above material putrescence?

A blaze of hammers from the skies
Race your corpse and aim heart high Ride the worms with me


4. VIRTUS SOLA INVICTA

Some of my favourite messiahs are dead
You may perhaps be nervous that the endings are wearing thin

So much grist for so many mills
So little point in taking offence

I've rolled with all the punches, and not even come up drunk
Danced around the guiding lights, got perhaps a little lost in the dazzle of lamps
Riding the head wind through Shangri-la, ha!
Aghast in Agharta, a shambolic frolic in Shamballah

Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around
Listless Heathen
Whirled down drains world-weary
The accused are great in number, though if you'd kind enough to line them up,
I could find it in me to fire the shots
Temples holed by misplaced homily
Nails all lined up to support heads lording over spikes of infamy

Your alter-ego can dig the pit
The, once it's lined with silent bones, we can stir the ghosts around
Perhaps take their powder as salve
Though it'll perish your thoughts, I'll tell you

Curiosity pushed you in, face first on top of all the others
So let's roll the old worm ball down another cerebral hill,
Bone over wire racing the funeral pyre

All wild eyed, world weary
Twisted trees tearing the heart out of Eden
Final resting places soiled as if on queue by those dragging their mean feet,
Enduring the wait before you
Lightning breaks against the cortex
Rolled into the hole to taste the old face down
A twelve foot round-trip to your discredit

Careless questions clogging the five-pointed sink-holes you dance around
Listless Heathen
Whirled down drains world-weary
Down drains world-weary


5. PROBOSCIS MASTER VERSUS THE POWDERED SERAPHS

Face down in the dust of their blasted utopia
Razors scrape obtuse angels into manageable lines

Eyes brimming with chemical repulse
Nostrils crusted with manifold millennia of dried up mortification
Of spiritual fabrication

Inhaling the future, new orifices torn for those sexless angels

Strength of Will hammered flat by biological circumstance
Cells forming the biggest cell of all;
Body of death, true burden

My opiate naïve autumn putting a gleam to your sycophant summer like
So much make believe
Throw in your hands for the abyssal disco
All the right shapes chucked into all the wrong holes

All's about to snap / spring has sprung on the christ trap
In fact, we'll do worse than put a match to your faces
We'll have your writhing, you cunts Do you hear?

All you monotheists born from the dust of deserts
Myth piled upon myth / spiritual plague pit
Seething maggot balls / fuel for future tombs
Twisting mass a'roil with turning worms
Keep your maggots away from my soul

I'm willing to risk an aneurysm if you'll just shut up and wait in line

Just impulses piloting corpses through mistake upon farce;
Glance around for the shroud How's your fitting? Dancer with ghosts
Spinning so madly around

Dancer with ghosts Spinning so madly around
Down amongst the dead
All our graves walked all over


6. PART I: MINDSLIDE

Fear - here again, now I know - far away
All that this was - not at peace
Watch the dawn, all is grey
Images gone - here again;
Now I know - far away
All of this was; not at peace
Watched the dawn; all is grey
The image is gone

Not at peace - not me Bitter end
Not peace; descend; is gone

I know Once again Adrift in mould


7. PART II: HAVE YOU GOT A LIGHT, BOY?

Are you a little lost, robot? To terminate? Stay resident?
To dance drawn down with the shades whilst suffocating the dawn?

He said 'Let there be light'

Oh, and there WAS light

'Let there be light', he said
And oh, how we laughed


8. PART III: PERDURABO

When you breathe me / can you release me
From this death infested maze of cold?
One eye open; nine days hung against nine nights
One eye open / one eye dark

I will endure All father
Freight of the universe eye please guide me
Nine days to hang against the dark here
Spilled glistening across the gaoled way
The new way Crutches raised against the face of fear

Can you see through the fast approaching dawn?
Find a way to beat the universal chessboard you miserable pawn?
Royal blew it
Face down amongst it all / scraped from the boot of old king cold
Just so much detritus for nowhere

I am not the way
Not the truth nor the light
Caught up in the same barbs, we are
No chemical solutions
Building rainbow bridges / pain railed against the dark

Old world, same disorder


9. PART IV: AN AUTOMATON ADRIFT

Birthed across nowhere to ride the moon through phases
Fazed in phases rolling nervous / lunar tick
Patchwork cut and paste parchments to feed faith's guttering furnace
A cracked clock face nervously ticking away the night

Carbon back to carbon back to repetition upon repetition
Repeat After me

Are you a little lost, robot?
Take my hand now,
Let us remain astray

No more invisible chains for this wolf, I can tell you
Howling with the moon whilst riding its decline
Waning not waxing, as ever

Have you a penny to gird the carny man wasted among your secrets?
Tiring out cliché upon secret?

My hands are tied here; but the one mind is held by no head
Heart leading that blind down bone-raw pathways

Once we've devoured the sun and all is said and done,
No more paths to navigate; silence our cell mate
Riding the whirling serpent across bleak skylines;

Watching as the final worm turns and turns and turns
Turns and turns

There was light


10. PART V: LOWLY WORM

Children of the moon, sky high against the day
A script half-written won't remind
Rainbows jostled, skylines torn
Witches burn beneath us

So polish up your best shoes / walk in line beside sorrow - supplication lost behind
Hitching our throats like tin cans behind this universal hearse

Back against the wall Rictus grin must bear it
To take the pain and gatecrash my own wake
To ride them all through the black time, Jormungandr
To stare unblinking through hollow face of Death

Whirling worlds, nucleus sun to disappear down frozen gullet of Fenris wolf
Hammer waits to fall


11. PART VI: LET THERE BE NO LIGHT

Smashed across the windscreen of the sky
That's all we've ever been
Lost amongst the fading stars / that's all we've ever been
Stood aghast as all the light blinks out
That's all we've ever been
Just dragging hidden chains of silence
All that's ever been


BONUS DISC

1. GESTATION

(Instrumental)


2. CATAFLAQUE CARAVAN QUANDARY

Infirmary carrion birds carry us, splintered.
All down and down until all six feet down. Down.
Slope-topped box the eternal holiday home away from home.
I revel in my pulsing companions, who gestate with me down here.

Together we fester;
life giving life to life.
Feeding on life.
Hope and decency given a wide berth.

Night crawlers all a’dancing, now
shrouded in tatters amongst my frustrations.

Down, down…

You see, we’re all breathing in here,
though the air supply is short
muscles all wasted;
All haste only wasting space, here is my nowhere.

Now even the worms won’t answer back.
Soil and asphyxiation on the attack,
Like a pariah / pine walls in front, sides and back.
Smiling slime trails shine… lost in rhyme.
Somewhere between alas and alack.

Now my body is their temple / all its shrines to putrefy;
Stations of your cross no longer attended.
All trains of thought ling since pulled away.
Free tickets for all wriggling bait to ride…

…the Disorient Express.

I have clawed out my eyes in search of some soul,
Beating rhythms on this bone box / in insistent staccato;

But my thrice-fold-law-of-return eye saw those six spinning walls
All grinning.
Whilst those ferryman’s friends made all a’merry
Draining the optics of my nerces.

A friends to no-one, not even the worms.
Only infected disaffection / gleaned as confection,
By these myriad breeding mouths.

Consume!

Now the creepies have done with their crawling.
Legs upon slime / upon legs upon slime / upon putrefaction;
Lost nowhere in time;
Now vacuum packed /trapped in traction.

Still awaiting Death’s attentions, much like those shuffling above.
Though no vertigo / down below / just this mad. Spinning. Disease.
Nothing to see here; roots bored through all hidey-holes.

I am the hive now; I am legs upon legs.

Nothing to fear here, except for myself
And perhaps just a little shortness of breath.


3. PLASTIC PATRIARCH LYNCH SQUAD (ENDURING DECEMBER)

Please mind your heart when leaving your head.
Space fills all vessels.
To sky ride firmament, All Father.

To embrace all everything. As all is said and done.
Leave fears to dry with relentless turn of wheel.
Organics suffocating steel.

Enduring December.
Eyes forward; march through

Eyes behind, there was only now; only ever now.
Eyes down for enduring cataclysm.

Heart awaits.
Heart continues.
Travelling December.

Maybe raise a stem from the root.
Summon some spring from the darkness.

If that sun is just going to hang its place
Whilst we all spin around her, arse about face,
The least she could do is raise us a smile
...just a fucking smile.

Sun rises may go unseen these days,
But don’t think they don’t go un-missed.

So, the colour drained from the last of days.
Nothing ever after.

Hung from heaven’s rafter;
Inverse your holy father,
Strung up, stomach slit
Bowels void / stench of the pit