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1. |
The Road is Long & Dark
10:25
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2. |
The Nebula Blinks
08:51
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Nebelblicke
Die Wand wegdrücken,
die mir zu nahe kommt, mich bindet.
Wohl eher: tilgt?!
Flächenrausch, dem nichts entrinnt.
Saugt ein, verschlingt.
Bodennebel, der in Füße kriecht und steigt,
den Kopf nicht mehr trennt von sich selbst.
Bin ich umnebelt? Benebelt? Bin Nebel?
Bin ich das Kind in Wolken?
Mein Mäusebussard kreist,
Laune, die mein Wollen schafft.
Platznot ist und freie Platzwahl
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3. |
Funeral Blues
08:33
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Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can come to any good.
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4. |
My Today
08:20
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My today is gonna be better
My today is gonna be better than it was yesterday,
When I was drowning in my sorrow, drowning in my pain.
Oh I was weak and weary, would not pray for strength,
Lost my faith along the way, giving the Lord some blame.
But, my today is gonna be better than it was yesterday,
‘Cause I’m standing up and fighting, for the light of a brand new day.
I’m reaching out to glory, taking back my faith,
So my day is gonna be brighter, than it was yesterday.
[by Lyn Kalley Ingram]
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5. |
Marita's Revenge
07:22
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Oh god
My heart is breaking
Each moment I am
Tortured again
In my reconstructed
Memory of rejection
In hard porn
Life style
Shooting
The breeze
Looking for religion
And lost to that
Razor blade speculation
Humming
The inside out
To the suicide thought:
They tortured me with knives
They tortured me with knives
Look at the scar
Screaming
Still on my throat
Attempting the new voice
The reconstructed margin
Of personality potential
Looking for help
In the alters
In the alters of the mind
Screaming still
Only
Cutting
The skin deeply enough
To make blood beads beautiful
In sadomasochistic realization
Baring the soul in exclamation
Of the spread
Shaking the hand to her screaming
Shaking the hand to her screaming
Help
Me
God
In
The
Heart
Of
Mock
Ceremony
Glimpsing
The crucifixion
For real
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Bill Boethius & Dali's Car London, UK
"The Dali of guitar noise".
Free improv,
Cinematic Sounds:
Strange Blues:
Cosmic Jazz,
Poetry settings,
Contact Bill Boethius & Dali's Car
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