The Rope Tightens

歌詞

Orchid chorus glides blithely through the streets as electric beams criss-cross seams of the slipstream Real-time bassline reality check up topside as the brotherhood of hawks push the new fascist line. Dread times, and the people sleeping on their feet, Breaking up in fragments, they explode in this heat. Discrete endevours meet with the troglodytes beneath the street, With the faceless, nameless menace of the Mastermind elite. Subterranean, white-eyed mushroom types, Human fungus clings to wires and pipes, As centuries of water and light trickle through cocoon-strata of racing data, And the cellular fleet ignite. On the street, bright display, head down fossil straight lines in decay, Urban regeneration complete. And a nameless force regards each life as imperfection And monitors the screen Of red and green, Money sucked up the flag in a corporate reality-dream. And the last egg is crushed for planned extinction And the reshaping of Earth for the hidden invasion. * * * New conquests, living-room beachheads got the frontline broadcasting in thousands of watts, In wires and cables, In ceiling pipes, television, electric lights and kettles. Somebody left a pot on the boil, Somebody raped the soil, Doused and drowned her life in sheets of oil. Somebody profited from all this toil, Pocketed the loot, But when they scoot Through their final escape-velocity Violent hypocrisy won't have a parachute. Somebody put the boot in. Somebody got accused of sin. Somebody dropped a lit fag in the bin. Green flame explodes. A man with a sign saying "repent" looks to the winter sky and invites the visitors in. Winter sin got a grin like a billy-goat Covered in a semen-stained overcoat But the works of the good god essentialise the note Dying in the back of his throat: Unspoken Word of the Aeon to come, Black as molasses, as nuclear bomb, As the blood in the septic heart of the brave new world to come, Unconditional love come with death to each and every one. Transcend stasis with the viral basis of time and meaning To wield your feelings and build reality, Invent the word "free" and divide up the races. Black-plumed bearers of the State will march solemnly As you are deposited beneath the concrete slab, Weighed down with apathy and faces. "Don't mourn me, organise!", you say, text-message mirrored in reptile eyes, In ultraterrestrial, illuminate eyes Full of schemes and duplicities. "So nothing is what is seems after all", you surmise. No fucking surprise. * * * We sidle up to the screen of red, gold and green, Subvert and turn the tables on the American dream. Big down the red, white and blue, I got news for you, The flag I wave is black when I come through, know what I mean? Know what I mean, bruv? No love In what they're showing, Talking about the static mein of a roving reporter Shouting disorder The media machine's the discorder. Dammed up the dynamite Locked up tight It will ignite I incite The ne'er-do-well and freeloader. With my autoloader, Shackleton bring the musical flavor, Cutting through the bonds of death like a light sabre, As they're carving up Africa at the whims of shareholders. Unspoken Word of the Aeon to come, Black as molasses, as nuclear bomb, As the blood in the septic heart of the brave new world to come, Unconditional love come with death to each and every one. Transcend stasis with the viral basis of time and meaning To wield your feelings and build reality, Invent the word "free" and divide up the races. Black-plumed bearers of the State will march solemnly As you are deposited beneath the concrete slab, Weighed down with apathy and faces. "Don't mourn me, organise!", you say, text-message mirrored in reptile eyes, In ultraterrestrial, illuminate eyes full of schemes and duplicities. "So nothing is what is seems, after all", you surmise. No fucking surprise. * * * Ghost train moving down the track, heading back To a time before control was perfected; I'll get collected And composed So when my people fight back No one will be able to predict the mantis attack! Where is the marvel we're waiting for? States at war. Got to subvert, open up a back door. Lockdown coming in this prison that we paid for; Now we find we're on the wrong side of the door. Do what you like, the prole Can be a rich man; Bring the general strike And penetrate to where the mind sees through wrong and right, like skiagraphia, Just a shadow-play, So waking up means more than Indy(a)media can say, So viral control of the way We perceive the everyday; New revelation of the soul when you hear me say Got no time in my life for brainwash today. I clean out my perceptions just like Rinse fm, I got to penetrate reality and see myself, My friend.