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1. |
Pop Song
02:54
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Leatherette couch and weather girl stare.
And the TV on and the week old air.
Fall into the crack, sink my head back.
Red wine soaked afternoon.
Kleenex there to catch the world in the hands of god.
Coloured like pearl. Fast food. Soft drink.
Too much time. No job, no girlfriend but no crime.
I keep slipping.
I don't know why I let it happen.
Take another breath, suck it in.
Think red - I can.
Lava lamp green and the world going by.
Magazine open to Miss July.
Stiff drink. Shag pile and TV guide.
My phone goes to voicemail.
Idle hands doing the devil's work.
Lara Croft comes to a stop with a sudden jerk.
Karma coming through the venetian blind.
The sound of one hand clapping, at least it clears the mind.
Cigarette smoke and the will to live.
So little talent. So much to give.
Sink back. Screen black. Remote control.
Old habits send me blind.
Sisters Of Mercy on the radio.
After a shower, half an hour and we're ready to go.
Not quite bent, just a little twisted.
No skill required, it's all in the wrist.
If I loved me, I'd swallow that.
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2. |
Frequency
04:48
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This water makes me sleep. This body I can't keep.
The fingerprint decides: eugenics or just genocide?
This water makes me sleep. This habit keeps me weak.
This spider-web of lies won't hide me under hostile skies.
Lie down. The drug will dull the day.
Stand down. The neigbourhood is watching you.
This word that I can't read creates anxiety.
The brain behind my eyes with a long tall glass of suicide.
This vessel I've become, believing all and trusting none.
Let's burn the building down.
Set a fire onto this whole fucking town.
Lie down. The drug will dull the day.
Stand down. The neigbourhood is watching you
While I watch the seconds rip away.
Stand down. The neighbourhood is watching you.
Old wars don't die, they just go underground.
Beyond sight, beyond sound.
Do not touch your TV set, we control the horizontal.
Do not touch your TV set, we control the vertical.
Everything is under control.
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3. |
Polythene Ingeneu
05:04
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A blood soaked sunset and the night's like heroin.
The satin touch, the scars I leave on your skin.
You'll never understand, I cannot run too far.
I'll never make it out to wherever you are.
My polythene ingeneu, I only ask of you. All that I am.
Five dollar princess and it's just a game of power.
Lay down my money and I own you for the hour.
You're not as innocent as you pretend to be.
There's something wrong here and I think it might be me.
The pain's been infused with a life of its own.
The fear's in her eyes like a cyclone.
Her love's like a head-on collision.
She's my open heart incision.
Without you it's cold and exciting.
Your desperation's so inviting.
Nobody can see me except for you.
I don't think there's anything more I can do.
There's nothing more I can do.
I cannot trust my instincts too close to be true.
Though I am blind, I find my way always to you.
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4. |
Release
04:11
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Close my eyes to let the bad air rise.
Surf the earth on a wave of lies.
Making dirty faces and filthy jokes.
She's always got one hand on the soap.
Watch her shift metaphors faster than the speed of thought.
Afraid to hold a candle to it. Better not. I might get caught.
Tries to climb his self-constructed wall.
Feeding karma wheels to god police.
Coercing chaos for his own good.
Will he fall again or will he be released?
He knows he's over-sensitive
Only now there's nothing left to prove.
She makes him hate himself then;
Never again, this fear is just a bruise.
I thought you'd never ask.
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5. |
Nicotine
05:52
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She's so quiet, the silence is psychotic.
Holds me like I'm frail and made of iron.
She comes in rainbow colours.
A blazing beacon in my line of fire.
I cannot climb out of her parting look.
All I've got left to remember her is her library books.
She leaves me standing on the stair. Lets me off the hook.
Trapped in the shadow of the superman.
She's just a genius with a master plan.
I'm the monster on the murder mile
Caught in the wake of February's child.
She's so agile, the dance is a narcotic.
She jumps to a conclusion like she might fly.
She sees through my alter ego.
Her mask is too confusing, so I don't try.
And in the dark the games we played all seem so infantile.
All the memory can provoke is an idiotic smile.
Hold my hand out to the rain, find a dollar bill.
You ask. "Will winter last?"
I say, "I think it will."
No time at all to underestimate.
Can't comprehend until it's far too late.
She'll search the earth but find no finer mind,
And sympathy was not her strong point at the time.
I take the hint but not the cyanide pill.
Your lack of suffering's overrated still.
You correct the spelling in my suicide note,
And put your bloodstained hands around my fuckwit throat.
Sitting with you pinprick princess, homeless for a while.
We are impossible so I lose myself in that vacant smile.
You say my prying eyes are almost instamatic now.
Pragmatic for the moment and that's all I can allow.
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6. |
Second Skin
05:06
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This string that's wrapped around the moon
Gets tangled in my hands
And I keep wondering what I might learn
If I could find the strength to climb.
And when I find you way down the road
I wonder if I'll ever be alone.
In sleep we walk together though this time
Barefoot on broken glass.
The cruelest twist;
Sadistic, I can only hold what cannot last.
And when I find you way down the road
I wonder if I'll ever be alone.
I'm like a second skin for you.
In liquid form until I swim away for good.
It's just myself that I can't trust.
All hollow arrogance and flair.
A useless shell addicted to this road
That leads me god knows where.
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7. |
Tramspotting
02:47
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Her teachers say she’s lazy.
Her mother thinks she’s crazy.
Her father says she’s got in with a bad crowd.
She calls her friends from school insipid.
Her ex-boyfriend’s a shit-head.
And she’d like to go to Sydney but it’s not allowed.
She’s a double jolt nova.
She’s as cool as Super Grover.
At the Cadillac Club she won’t be found.
She’s blonde but she’s not subtle
and she hangs out at the Tunnel
for the fine white powder that they pass around.
She don’t like, she don’t like, she don’t like…
At the back of the Valhalla, like escapees from Yooralla
Cutting lines on her dole cheque with her student card.
Fucking up her sinuses and pulling B minuses.
The VCE was easy but the drugs were hard.
While her friends were dropping acid,
saying “cool” and going flaccid
you can bet our heroine is where the action is.
When the world starts going day-glo
and the tears begin to flow,
feel the mucous in your nose start that familiar fizz…
Red cordial gets her hyper.
On a caffeine rush, on a sugar high.
Chewing on Buzz gum, sucking down a Viper,
All she need is a couple of packets to get her by…
It’s not expensive.
She knows a little shop run by the daughter of a cop
Where she can fill her prescription (if you know what I mean).
She’s got a stash of the original laced with something criminal.
Tonight: the red packet. Or maybe the green?
Mickey gets her crazy. Donald makes her hazy,
But the Goofy packets are her favourites, I suppose.
She retires to the girls’ room
with a wink and with her little plastic spoon
She gives the nod and baby, thar she blows…
Choose bad…
It looks like it’s so innocent. It’s only sherbet, isn’t it?
They sell it to kids at the local milk bar.
But every hash puppy and the cocaine shorting yuppies
Know a Wizz Fizz junkie is the worst, by far.
It’s a short step from Wizz Fizz to mixing your Slurpies,
getting high off the colouring and freezer burn.
You’ve got a stock pile of Fags, and you’re eating your Clag.
As Mike Monroe might say, “I guess you live and learn…”
Matter of fact, I've got it now.
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8. |
Kryptonite Girl
05:19
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She was sixteen and on the road to Jesus.
I was twenty-two with a view to making her mine.
She was underage, but I'm an underachiever.
All things considered, I was just a way of passing her time.
I can only see you, I cannot reach you.
The mere thought of more makes the mountains shake.
I can only hear you on my radio.
This failure of the flesh is you keeping me awake.
She was sixteen and she'd set course for heaven.
I was tied down, trying to stop the end of the world.
Couldn't keep my mind out of the blood coloured mouth
Or from the night sky eyes of the kryptonite girl.
Tear down the sky with my bare hands.
This is my ransom. No reward, no demands.
She was sixteen and more a saint than a virgin.
I was overdue for a clue to her impossible test.
She had to go but she left me her favourite philosphy.
Five simple words: "Life is short. Play Tetris."
Tear down the sky.
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9. |
Carnivore
06:17
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Listen to me, listen to me. Your wit can't save you now.
You're in the hot seat. I've got the blowtorches.
Outcome never in any doubt.
Maybe it's dumb. Maybe it's dumb, but I only know what I feel.
Pins and needles.
One foot in the grave and a hand on the seventh seal.
Take your best shot. Push me over the edge.
Blood lust and instinct is just too hard to second guess.
I'm so far gone that it won't be too long.
It's got to be right 'cause it feels so damn wrong.
Can't feel my hands now.
This feeling in my gut won't go away.
Numbness creeping up my arms.
A taste in my mouth like chicken and satay.
Feels kind of stupid.
Forced to admit I'm feeling good 'cause you're feeling like shit.
Let's go for a walk, it's such a nice night.
You look so good (it's a trick of the light).
If I'm such a nice guy, why do I do so many bad things?
If you think you know me well, you'd know better than
To ignore when the warning bells ring.
Listen to me. Listen to me.
I don't care like I did before.
It's easier to hurt you than to make the effort anymore.
Take your best shot. Push me over the edge.
Blood lust and instinct impossible to second guess.
I'm so far gone that it won't be too long.
It's got to be right 'cause it feels so fucking wrong.
Self fashioned. I've imbued myself with passion.
I'm the unimatrix now. Impatient.
Find myself the destination.
I am what I've allowed.
Piano wire and a blunt screwdriver.
What do I do now? What do I say?
Valentine of the party line.
Password expired. I've had my way.
Shut up. Eat shit. I love every little bit.
I am unsafe. My fist, your face.
Feed the man meat.
It makes us fuck and kill.
Meat makes us fuck and kill.
It's my duty to cleanse the world of all you useless scum.
"I am the angel of death," she said.
"The time of retribution has come."
Don't fax me. No caffeine.
Cut my finger. Need some bactine.
No lactose. No glucose.
Double decaf mochacchino.
Don't you beg for sympathy.
That nice girl act won't wash with me.
Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk.
Don't cook the pig if you can't eat the pork.
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10. |
Feel Okay
02:11
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[Rob]
Waking up with not much to do.
Think I'll just kick back and waste it.
[Gordo]
Close my blind against the day
And stare at my ceiling 'till it caves in.
I can believe that you can get right.
I don't know why but everything is grey.
You don't even talk right.
After all of this, I feel okay.
[Rohan]
Smoking 'till I'm almost brain dead.
I can watch the static on tv.
[Gordo]
No doubt I'll never make it.
Or make out. I'll never even try.
I'm not getting any younger.
And I feel okay.
Do you feel okay?
Yeah, I feel okay.
Hey - then we feel okay!
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11. |
21 Dead Bugs
04:44
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Twelve dead bugs as a birthday gift.
Wading out of my head and into the rift.
Through a shadow so long it bruised my shins.
Then she opened up her chest and the rain fell in.
Dead bugs.
Cracked open my head on the concrete floor.
Smashed the back of a bug with the front of my jaw.
Split my lip with shards of my broken teeth.
Taste the cooling blood of the bug beneath.
Dead bugs.
Polaroid. Pole the void. She’s getting higher than an asteroid.
She’d piss most people off but I’m not even annoyed.
Hear the static. Automatic. Psychosomatic.
She's laughing harder than a sitcom.
She's my monosyllabic hydrocephalic sex bomb.
Scoop the pool for playing the fool and now she’s lost her composure.
She feels the chill while I’m feeling ill at the thought of her exposure.
I've let loose the tiger but there's a kitten wrapped up inside her.
I won’t be undone. Here I come.
Watch me run right over your moral divider.
So many bugs but no cause for alarm.
One each for stigmata at the end of my arm.
Two more bugs for your hollowed out eyes.
Three for the space between your thighs.
One more bug for the back of your throat.
Aaaaarrrgh.
Dead bugs.
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12. |
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