What a turn-on Passing over Sore faking god Just a glance And the taste will go Freeze and smell that reek Wake up It’s either be and talk Or turn right here Over Over

Groans Plains Bleak And saving Then be gone Untouched by answers The breath is swaying The body is waiting There on a sailing through sands Did you write this song of forever? You’re gone and you've answered your prayers The rise of courage is here Bees And a touch in the heat Now is that what your freed? And your blaming of waiting I know I am sailing to woe Firm stand On the line and your days are blown off Then go to the saint Who’ll confess to your fate Birth and waiting and praying and dirt Will come surely Now that sails are all bare Our lives will be spared for now And again And the truth that you waived And the loner you hailed And the bell that you face The bell that awaits Then crawl by the stairs Home by the lake And still you're lazy Lazy There on the lake Round the beckoning flame Through the waters that ache For the traitor you became And you burn down the luckiest day of your life And so The pain in the hole The crumbling of stones And the cracking of rocks And burning the pagans The burn you're awaiting You go and you melt On the brink of your craving And lay On the side that will be life of the day Only then Away Don’t say you bother The pace will slow down And the body will smother And save all the rave and freezing of time And pray And for the sake of it's over The time will go slower As we touch and go And the pity you saved And the truth that you waived And the bell that you face The bell that awaits And again Fall You’ll bow and lower The river will flow and the distance will shorten And then The sign of the north The walk back and forth And sleep will arise and awake

Blow the house down Shut the door and storm in Flush the nights down And crawl right back to the barbed wire Burn the tree down Spread the ash and chase the ocean call And fall rise For the eyes For the burdens And for the cages we all grow

Oh so sober now Now you observe How they creep and scrape their skin Old tissue cells Their silent smell Feel their bones Drop face down Grey gob Teeth gnash Blunt stroke And burn The one thing you already know That’s dragging you to and fro When distinction turns into extinction Believe it’s time for you to go

(by Samuel Beckett) 1 Why not merely the despaired of Occasion of Wordshed Is it not better abort than be barren The hours after you are gone are so leaden They will always start dragging too soon The grapples clawing blindly the bed of want Bringing up the bones the old loves Sockets filled once with eyes like yours All always is it better too soon than never The black want splashing their faces Saying again nine days never floated the loved Nor nine months Nor nine lives 2 Saying again If you do not teach me I shall not learn Saying again there is a last Even of last times Last times of begging Last times of loving Of knowing not knowing pretending A last even of last times of saying If you do not love me I shall not be loved If I do not love you I shall not love The churn of stale words in the heart again Love love love thud of the old plunger Pestling the unalterable Whey of words Terrified again Of not loving Of loving and not you Of being loved and not by you Of knowing not knowing pretending Pretending I and all the others that will love you If they love you 3 Unless they love you

I can’t give in tonight Can’t tell… I must not saw off the branch On which I am sitting I can’t give in today I can’t give in tonight The ball of lice in the hay Hazy Hazy Hazy I can’t stand in this light that Just now and then never And I shall force it to be like To be like an endeavor again Can’t give in tonight To kneel and to sever To lay And love in a way That settles the lie The lie that it’s hurting again The lie that it’s going to fade The lie that it’s going forward The lie that it’s coming today I can’t give in so sober With no fear whatsoever I can’t give in tonight Way to persist Way to burn Way to fade out Way to go Clay and order Clay and order Clay and order

Had it been another night one would certainly fall for this decoy. But this time it’s something different. The whole uproar lasts just for a blink of an eye. A greasy fluid briefly drops on the table and the only thing unveiled in this motion is the ever-present aftertaste. The old terrifying scheme of pity implodes. The subtlety of grey flushes all this fuckery down, destroying the vulgarity of roots which run too deep. Now is tomorrow and tomorrow is never. And the streets SHOULD be this empty. Had it been another night one would certainly fall for this decoy. Blunt repulsion and the shameful view outside the window. The streets crawling with gals so beautiful. Groins, glands, benches and secretas through springs and falls. Scapegoats and mockery. Yes, these were the good times. But now I’m fucked. ‘Cause what is there to do when there is a face under your skin? What is there to do when the streams start to spiral? And what is there to do when the morns are even colder than the nights?

Rise and walk Call it over Call it over Rise and walk Hear her pray: “Come silence Iron and golden” All this aftertaste And all these gleams Eyes aglow Bound to fall Far too low One more word and one hand saw It’s in those smiles where All this aftertaste revolves Weep at night, let fall Down then Come and crawl Turn to me And sprawl You’re broke You’ve breached the light You’ve fallen You’re creepy, ruled and worn