Loop consisting of bass guitar and effects recorded live during an improvisation with friends in 2019. Source was then manipulated with drones added.
lyrics
They're after another day.
They're after a passing thought.
There's electricity inside of me, foaming out.
Nobody can see it.
I've been dying to be captured;
The shadow of death around every corner.
Jagged lights in its eyes.
It's telling me to smile and laugh.
Here's you medicine.
Wicked holiness, stride with me now.
Wide widths. Why or without--
I don't know.
It's really hard to tell anymore.
Every letter is fading eyes:
Vowels in the tone of an alpha better.
Ladders form, misconstructed as mirrored memes.
A higher source of scarcity only with what?
I pay my dues
I will pay for all of them,
And a thing about wonderment and mystery:
I see that sparkle in you eyes.
Is it hard to tell me you stopped listening to those voices long ago?
It's hard to tell...
They're after another day.
They're after a passing thought.
Closed eyes, greiving.
Don't close the door on me like that!
The Archon tightens its grip on her,
A tempestuous tribute to the sky.
Leaves turn upside-down,
They leave their doors unlooked.
Behind every history: a curse
(vetus cuomodo sanies significatur)
Great urges and loud warnings.
No feeling of admonishment though.
Actually, it's hard to tell.
Every letter is fading eyes:
Vowels in the tone of a gamma delta.
You owe for everything.
Why and without, I know.
Bounty of what is already wonderful,
Spelled by protons,
Guests of barking out blithely via quarks.
Why do anything?
For lust? For mystery?
To say your prayers?
Is it hard to tell them to me?
A tuned monotony of greater causes,
A synaptic, totalitarian demiurge,
As simple as it comes, lumbers horribly.
Its stench puts you to sleep.
Its eyes swallow all light in an impermeable darkness.
Jokes about its enforcement of reality can't be overstated.
You kick in its maw.
Your soul screams to be let out,
But it's just hard to tell if any noise comes out at all.
Falling down, down and in circular motions:
An endless acceleration
Into the bowels of a fractal oblivion.
To be flushed from the surf of its bile to its shores,
Dense with primordial foam,
Is thereto evaporate and become rain
One last time, and never again;
One last time and never again thereafter.
Endless circumstances, parching God
Are reminded by their own entropy.
Their sending messages in bottles.
Their resemblance is a baby down the Nile,
But the Queen might not see it.
It's just hard to tell.
A tuned monotony of greater causes.
The refined order of militaries:
Violence and destruction,
As much as zealots clamor to see.
Why does society desensitize itself?
What needs to be shown so sorely
That each day should be born
To rot out their eyes with the jelly of blue light
And millions of videos
Where everyone gets fucked and dies?
Either you're still waiting for the punchline
Or you missed the beat.
I guess it's hard to tell.
Falling down, down and in circular motions.
All knowledge whittled away
To little more than vain delusions,
A funneled web of illusion.
Hallucinations in which the living memory of the ego
Can no longer forget its inadequacies,
And we sit,
And we glare at them,
Seeing enough to believe,
Perceiving enough to be,
Leaving rarely enough we're trapped.
You get more dopamine being safe.
You get more dope on your phone than in the street.
Why am I here?
Why but for all of these reasons this place exists?
I used to think I knew,
But it's just hard to tell...
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