Tony by White Hot Needles

I swear
I haven't pretended to look at a mirror
for weeks now.
Never even registered with me
that there were lights.
Sky-scraping window
Hand-held device.
A sigh of relief,
at the end of my dog-bit,
as I become a point
on an elaborate desert.
Doing things as if someone up there loves me
while something over there shines into my eye
[Ominous music rises]
Building buiding building.
Don't ask me how I feel.
Everything as unfinished as the horizon.
No ones into "Zemlya" anymore
with changes to flicker-fusion frequency.
Scaffolding around the elderly camouflage,
you rehabilitated me too roughly.
Going back to the original body
in a figurative way.

• Electronic
• Spoken Word
• drone
• gothic rock
• industrial
• noise
• noise rock
• United Kingdom