Traumnovelle

by Coin locker kid

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about

The story of a dream; the memory of a trauma.

credits

released 19 October 2013

Production and lyrics by the Coin locker kid
Artwork by Sir Cornelius Lockwood
Produced on a Roland SP-555 sampler and a Boss BR-1200CD

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all rights reserved

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Track Name: Here comes everybody.
I was raised in a barn.
Have I told you before?
Maybe that's why I forgot to close the door
and the kitchen was raided by gnats,
then in marched the ants,
now here come the rats.

Gnawing beneath the floorboards
on the cables and wires, telephone cords,
skeletons and double-edged swords in the pantry.
It's the way of the world, though it can't be
life; the misses, the wife,
the kisses, the husband
pukes in the dustbin,
fishes the broke ends of needles from weltering veins.
When blood drips on the carpet it stains
and it's hard to clean up!
Harder still with your head in the sand.
It's impossible: trust me, I've tried.
Though you'll never know until you've died... if you can.

What would we give to be laughing and fucking
and telling the hipsters, "Keep on truckin!
And pick up the bottles we're chuckin
at shutters and gutters that hit from the pit that we're stuck in
and break!"
In the lake, I might drown...
Zarathustra spake
as we sat around like apostles.
But thank God I know -
God's dead as a fossil!

And without you the bed is colossal.
I should master the art of hypnosis
and learn how to voodoo and lure in the hostess
with porcelain skin that's as pale as the ghost is!
Mail and the postage;
life with therapist,
upping the dosage, the sadist.
I know I shouldn't say this, but
I miss you.

I was raised in a cell. And it's hard to commit.
Maybe that's why I up and took a shit
in the sink when the dishes were done.
There's oil in the ocean; the fishes are gone.
The moon, at the end of the day,
hears everything, but it can't take it away.
It remembers wherever we are.
And the sun is but a morning star.

I'm so confused.
I'm so confused.
I'm not confused!
We're so confused.

Our life moves in circles,
round and round the merry goes
into a coma.
Goes into a coma...
lying open, waiting,
knowing that there's nothing
better.
There's nothing better
for us.
Track Name: Walden falls.
I was bit by a snake
near the pond, near the lake.
I was tryna do the Harlem Shake
and it was creep-creep crawling in the tall grass.

And my cabin of log
in the mist, in the fog
became elusive as a shaggy dog
and in poison-induced delirium I hauled ass
to the city again.

Made my way to the city again.

Human currents and hailing a cab.
When everyone you meet's just a body to stab
with your cold gaze.

If you can close the curtains on that, hey,
I can ask fallen angels sleeping in the doorways:
Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?
Brown paper bag riding on the winds to the ER.

A long way from deliverance...
but I can't afford health insurance!

Well. Back to the woods.
Track Name: Rollergrrrl.
'Tis late and it's chemically
altered state, like a memory.
You sit with a smile on
but it may not be what it seems to me... right now.

Here's a dag
wrapped up cold in a plastic bag, like
"What's that? Bring it over here,
do you want that? It's the only other beer..."
Well hold tight while I roll this fag.
On the trail of the wounded soldier.
There must be something around...

I don't wanna head downtown.
Blinding light and amplified sound.
King's Cross? There's an angel dead
with her wings lost... along with her head, so...
not tonight, not tonight,
you bark on all fours, I run the red light
longitude, latitude, weight and height
your aura's blurring my sight.

Right now.

Rolling on the kitchen floor.
Seance with the candle lit,
if the Christians cannot handle it
well the sink is what our kitchen's for.
I bought you new rollerskates.
Monkey in the bedroom masturbates
and I'm sure he'll think of you!
Like the way I stink of you, but baby
no one ever taught me how to swim.
Do you kick your legs in the ocean and wade?
Away?
'Til you're there?
And you're not here?

She's on ice. Rolling like I'm rolling the dice.
She's on ice. Rolling like I'm rolling the dice.
Track Name: Syriana.
All our kids:
taken as we slept.

Naturally
Jesus wept.

It was bound to happen anyway.
They weren't well
kept.

In the cupboards. Dressers. Underneath the steps.

But my hands were tied.
But my hands were tied.

Stepping on the cracks.
Bounce the ball against the jacks.
Pomegranate, death and tax.
Underhand it, send the fax.

I think it's time for one of us to make a choice.
And what is this I smell? Is your vagina getting moist?
Undo your push-up bra.
Raw daddy. Raw daddy.
Breaking off the needles. Breaking off the needles.
Just release the chemicals and get it while it's fetal
and they'll never see us spinning off
the axis of evil.

But my hands were tied.
But my hands were tied!

I didn't set a red line!
The world set a red line!
I just crossed it.
Track Name: Where the angels lie in wait.
Life: where the angels lie in wait.
Steak knife, I'm licking your dinner plate.
Ruby red lips dripping with my seed.
And you can swallow for today's good deed,
and you don't even have to clean the linens when you bleed, 'cos
I like rolling in it.
(I'm sick. I'm sick.)
And for my last trick,
here's another way to make the bedsheets
stick to you:
kill the horse dead for his glue.
Camp out underneath the pew.
You know it makes me horny when you spew, baby?
Today I feel brand new, baby.
Was it something in your stew, baby?
Or your bangers and mash?

Where the angels lie in wait.

Death: where the angels fly in place.
And the schnitzel's always veil,
so I never see your face when you're cumming.
Earth walks upon a tight rope.
Hangs us up on a wire.
Now we can light it on fire,
or set it up to grant our each and every solitary desire.

But you gotta believe.
Track Name: Standing in the sun.
After dinner, check the mail, would you?
I will not tolerate the failure to
comply with my request! So do as I command
if you ever wanna touch my breasts again!

You're like a monkey.
I'm like the dealer to your cocaine junky.
How to control you, forever and always?
Withhold your fix:
you puke in my hallways
sleep in my doorways
shit on my floor.
Baby lick your lips, cold sore.
You see me swiveling my hips, want more?
Well grab and a fish and chips when you rock up to the store, okay?
Aww, don't be a misogynist.
I know you're a little masochist,
but there's no angel when you slash your wrists
and hit the ground, alien, devoid of sound.

Standing in the sun.
In the good old days.
We were fucking everyone in the manless days.

You remember what the dormouse said?
Well you still go to bed unfed.
If I'm lucky then you'll wake up dead, or I'll feel better tomorrow.

And I think you really mean your best...
even when you get tricked by breasts!
You're the lesser in a pool of cess,
and you won't know better tomorrow!

And you're not the only one
staring at me as I'm tanning in the sun.
Scratching your balls standing in the sun,
halfway blind staring at the sun.
Halfway blind staring at the sun.
Halfway blind staring at the sun.
Black as toast burning in the sun.
Halfway blind staring at the fucking sun.
Track Name: Against the day.
With an icepick, chasing away the rainy days.
I love you but I can't defend your crazy ways.
But this is a phase! We're children of the corn,
just lost in the maize.
I was raised in a kingdom
where the shadows walk about.
But Wendy's by the window with a thimble on her thumb.
The line is in the sand, and here I beckon you to come,
although I reckon you can run
If you're expecting someone.

Like Jesus. Muhammad or Buddha.
Or, L. Ron Hubbard. Or Charlie the Tuna.
Or Nietzsche.
Well baby I have nothing to teach ya.
But from my own experience, they all were out of reach for me,
and that was a bummer, I waited
the whole summer.

But nothing ever came.

Except this drop of rain, which remained,
like a black cloud, hovering over my umbrella.

But wait until morning!
We'll spin up on the axis and the night will bring the dawn in
from wherever it's hiding.
The horses will ride in from the prairie.
I'll open up your legs and I'll slide in where it's very very
safe for me to be.
And I don't need the knife right now.
Hold me, like I was your own.
And share the same flesh, from the skin to the bone -
and drawing blood from a stone is simple.
I've spent many years alone in the temple just
waiting for some god
to make its return.
West of Nod, with the Mark
and the burning of the crop-fields.

Plague of locusts, and frogs fall from the sky.
It's a fraud.
I'm a lie.

Every year's a journey 'round the sun.
Spinning in the darkness of the un
-born. -seen. -touched. -loved.
And I still remember when
everything was rolling in the morning dew.
Formless.
Dreamless.

But.
We'll fight against the day and we'll win.
And we'll howl at the moon,
and we'll watch it begin.
And we'll do it again.
'Cos it never will end.
And it never will end
'cos it never will end.

Somewhere in the blackened void,
your family raising horses on a farm.
You carried a heaven.
Of course it's in your arms.
Track Name: The red king.
Yesterday I was living in a garden.
Since then I've been across the globe.
I had a dream Australia was in Auschwitz.
I had a queen with the patience of Job.
I slept on the grass in the forest
for the duration of a game of chess.
Little girls that checkmate the looking glass,
you probably know what's best.

Now there's lions and tigers in the forest!
Either or I'm probably snoring and we don't even exist,
just swimming in the Dreamtime,
standing in the Woolworths, waiting in the long line for nothing, 'cos
I'm nothing. And you're nothing.
You're mad as a hat.
I left the manhole open,
now here comes a rat.

Whatchoo wanna use?
Ruby slippers? Silver shoes?
I don't really give a damn, just take me home.

Yesterday I wasn't even here.
But don't you shed a single tear.
I'll be coming back next year.
Floating on my big blue sphere.
Then, I'll be there.

There.

There.

Yesterday I was living in a castle
made entirely of ivory and glass.
From the hill, the fellowship of the chapel.
Just a memory that lives in the past.
Now I live in a small flat
made entirely of modesty.
And I'm rooming with the goddamn rat,
for he will never leave me be.

Whatchoo wanna use?
Ruby slippers? Silver shoes?
I don't really give a damn, just take me home.

Take.
Me home.

Take.
Me home.

Take,
take oh take me home!
Am I doing anyone a wrong?
I just wanna be where I belong!
I just wanna be where I
belong inside where the moon is gone
where the queen is lust
and the Tin-man rusts
and the Scarecrow burns burns burns burns burns
burns burns burns burns burns burns
burns!
Track Name: The future, pt. 1.
Soldiers sleeping in the doorways.
Somebody tell 'em when the war ends.
There's no telling where the war sends me, but
I just gotta pack my bags.

You stand jangling keys.
"Be quick about it please!"
I can beg on my knees, but I'm getting what I deserve.

What I deserve...

Eternal light shining from the subways.
Even in the airways, still feels like you're here.
Combing out your split ends.
Talking to your girlfriends.
I was on my way home; shall I turn around?

"Tomorrow."

Blah blah, such and such.
Think I talk too much?
Think I'm superficial?
Well, when the UN sends the missile, I'll be
wishing
you were
by my
side.

--
Round and round
and round it goes.
Where does it stop?
Nobody knows.
Hanging by ears.
Hanging by toes.
When does it stop?
Nobody knows.

--
When will I see you again?
I will return.
Round and round and round and round
and round and round and round
and round and round
and round
and round
and round.