Head grows silent
as I'm summoning the ghost
I'm sitting faceless in the field of souls
The tentacle caresses
and the sigh-less hovering host
she's pouring venom in me
In the collapse of embrace
there's an embryonic face
whispering secrets of the silent race
We rise above the forest
in the black glow metal fleet
Below she's growing distant
Brains form galaxies
which terrify the host
In chemical deduction
Raw mouth watches
from the corridors of hate
The new disease in-capsuled
Brains turn colors into
sorted shapes defiled
The conscious mind surrenders
The godhead salivates
and mumbles to itself'
"I never have existed"
And to die is to realize
you never have existed
A true hidden treasure of a song writer. This gent has been capturing songs in demo form on old tape recorders since the 80s. . . and he's still capturing his magic sounds in his secret basement. Damien Youth