Hailstorm & Maelstrom

by Coin locker kid

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The story of a boy who disappears into a beautiful woman.


released 28 April 2015

Production and lyrics by the Coin locker kid
Additional vocals by Kathryn Buckner
Artwork by Sir Cornelius Lockwood
Produced on a Roland SP-555 sampler and a Boss BR-1200 digital recorder



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Track Name: Even dwarfs started small.
Climb inside the vanity
sitting in my room.
Whisper to the animus
living in my womb.
Give yourself to everyone
then leave my swollen arms.
If only for one night.

All along you were dead in the hay,
leaving the world with nothing to say.
There's a corpse in the bed where you lay.
It's the end of the world and it stays this way.
And she didn't do anything wrong
and you stole her ID and her hair went gray.
It was you in her bed all along
and I get the idea that you're here to stay.
You'll wake in the asscrack of the morning
and slide yourself into the skin she was born in
and though it may feel like a rather tight fit,
just give it a few years, and I'm sure you'll like it.
Especially milk-white breasts.
Hardened pink nipples, and all the rest.
In the garden of Eden, your dingus was here,
and now the angels bring us a pap smear
just to make sure that you're safe and sound
with your insides in tact; feet to ground.
Take my hand and bend the round
to the loo, and yes, your shit is brown.
So emerge from the ER, naked.
I remind you that nothing is sacred.
And your urine tastes like Campbell's Tomato Soup,
and I say, "Loop-de-loop."

Come on girl.
Come on kids.
Track Name: The mannequin.
Like envy, you fill me up.
"Unbend me when you spill the cup,"
said my legs to your prickly eyes.
Dead babies on my sticky thighs
cry out for the egg that was
nailed down to a steak in my water-cooler
just because the body's fantastic
and my skeleton is elastic.
I open the window
with these gooey ghosts in tow,
leaning further out the frame until
my clit's pressed up against the windowsill.
I wanna kick my heels up and
prey to the dead birds
perched on the shoulders of every highway.

Like an ash tree grows
in a hashtag world,
my daddy knows that
I am still his little girl.
I'm painting my toenails.
He's pulling my pigtails.
(in a shotgun shack.)
And his great big hands have ten fingers
that each fell in love with my throat.
And it loves them too
and my pores have tongues and they taste like glue.
They disappear into the shadows 'cos his hands are black.

Lying in the road
the wrong way.

Rise from the bottom of the heart.
Track Name: Ragdoll.
In the days of light and bad movies
I used to sit out in Sydney and drink Tooheys
until I'd get so drunk I'd drink shoeys in the ally
with a pretty ragdoll named Sally
who was on the run from her creator
and the web she spun
was even greater than the length
of the thread she used to sew on missing limbs.
She mixed brews with clues and plant stems
that'd put me in a lull for days.
I used to go to sleep to avoid the sun rays; it's cancer.
And I tried to romance her, but
she was a raver with a razor
and I never was a dancer.
Still, she let me move in her place and always
giggled when I spat in her face; no answer.
Alas, no answer.

She's the one who
tumbles from an open window.
I'm the one who
holds her arms behind her back, 'til
I'm the one who
bolts out of an open door and
she's the one who
cums inside my tiny crack, well

I had to find release
from the rising sun.
And this bitter piece
belongs to everyone.
And she's just stuck in a place,
well there was never a chase,
there was never a chance.
The doona and the pillowcase
dry out in a moment of grace; I'm dancing
in the middle of the street.
And the passing cars
all turn to dust in the wake of American bars.
And I'm just falling like an anvil.
The hands that held her arms behind her back
are swollen up and black.

Black. So black.

I had to find release.
(My tiny crack.)
Track Name: Boy toy, pts. 1 & 2
Don't be a killjoy.
Pretty girlboy.
Strung up so you'll never be a real boy.
Hung up and centered on the centerfold.
Dumb luck, 'cos my center don't hold.
I told ya.
Be careful.
6 6 men tend to be an earful.
Blah blah let me show ya somethin today.
Rah rah you're a bloke with nothing to say.
Ha ha tell a joke, get out of my way.
Like fingerfucking a stranger on the metro.
Bloodlet, it's the quickest way to let go
living on the corner where tampons are retro.
I'm corners where the cracks grow.
I'm petals on a black bough.
I'm falling from the branch.

My lips.
My hands.
My tongues are

Look above you, the stars are glittering, and I
said I love you but trannies are loitering
in the cigarette smoke that uproots the motel,
talking loud - you didn't hear me, but oh well.
For what it's worth it probably wouldn't go well.
Ever since birth the opposition was so swell:
shine a black light thru the red light where the dead might
turn live in ice-fueled psychosis.
Da da da da
you roast this meat in the flames that rise from the manhole,
that same one where you lost your sandal
dressed up as Christ to try and provoke scandal.
We're petals on a black bough.
Spiraling down a black hole.
You're begging at my knees, I'm traveling overseas.

(He loves to lick my lulu
my lovely little lulu.)

I dress him up in pretty clothes
'cos I know he's on the dole.
Gentle fingers gape his mouth
wide enough to take the south pole.

(Lick my legs I'm on fire
lick my legs of desire.)

Silly boy, did you know he knew me?
Just like you he went right through me.
I live life while you watch movies,
buy weird books and read them to me.
If you've reached such enlightenment why can't you save me then?
Organize my freedom?
Don't be Scandinavian
or get pissed 'cos I've slept with other men.
I was in the world before you even began.
I was never meant to eat from your hand alone.
You can't own what you can't understand.
I am the water while you remain land.
I am the air while you remain sand.
Slipping through my fingers just like that.
Everybody's love disappears at will and
we're tumblers in a life that's still
in a child's mind where we're Jack and Jill
where you're jacking off. I can't take you out
'cos you kill the wine when we dine with my old friends.
You're a killjoy.
You're a boy toy.
You're a boy.

You're a boy.
You're a toy.
Track Name: The absence of soil, air and law.
I don't even know if this is on.
Fucking bitch.
Boy I feel sick.
Every other night.
Blokes from work.

All the 6 6 6 gathered around a flock of blondes like Gustapo in a dick-slinging contest where the winner gets to fill em all up with cum.
So much for the sushi factory.
Only matters inasmuch as you got the Rolex with a leather strap and

Telly telly telly telly telly plants and rags.
I must presume the Queen of Oz is never coming back.

Do what?

Hi honey.
Oh. When did you come home?
Just now. How are you going?
Great. What have you gotten up to?
Okay. Are you upset then?
I said I was fine.
Okay. What's on the telly then?

Fuckall. As you can see. Nothing nothing on TV.
Well, I'm tired, so maybe
Of course you're tired, it's nearly three.
I don't have to defend myself. We had a few more drinks. We got to chatting and I saw a couple girls from back when I worked at News Corp.
Greek to me.
You're fucking cranky tonight, aren't you?
It's Thursday.
You're always going out and staying out all night.
Why is this such a problem with you?
I come all the way the way over here to be with you and I hardly see you.
That's just not true. I'm a grown woman. I can have a couple drinks if I want to.
Well you never want me with you. It's like you're embarrassed to have me around. The American monkey negro who could never rub two pennies together.
Just fucking stop. I've taken you out with my friends. You know exactly what you're like. So you think I'm supposed to be happy having you sitting there drinking wine like it's water when we're with the people I have to work with everyday? And who knows what will happen then? Are you gonna get jealous and break down in tears right there at the bar or the dinner table? You going to punch me out? Walk out into the street puking?
I didn't mean to act out before, that time. I felt provoked.
Everything provokes you. You're a child.
You knew me.
I didn't know you. Not like this. I don't know you now.
Then this is pointless, isn't it?
I'm sick of this. I'm sick of feeling afraid to come home and afraid to go out by myself. Or even with you. This is my apartment. This is my country. I'm not happy with you being like this.
Well. Fuck you.
I'm through. I'm going to bed.

What now?
Whose dick did you suck tonight?
You're fucking drunk.
No I just need to know. Tell me what I want to
I can't do this anymore. I want you to go home tomorrow
No just tell me who shoved his cock down your throat tonight
What is your problem
How much cum did you swallow
You're sick
Was it a pom? Someone from London then
What the fuck
Tell me
Fuck you
Tell me
Let go of me
Tell me
You're hurting me
I just I just
You're hurting me you fucking dickhead. Let go of me now or I will scream.
You won't scream.
Baby. Let go.

The quincunx of heaven runs low.
Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? Or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail, which I have reserved against the time of trouble, against the days of battle and war? By what way is the light parted which scattereth the east wind upon the earth?
Shut the fuck up you piece of shit. This is so over.
Hath you a father? Or who hath begotten the drops of dew?
Why did you have to do this? Why are you fucking drunk? Why are you doing this to us? I've given you everything. Given myself to all of you.
Out of whose womb came the ice? And the hoary frost of heaven who hath gendered it?
I love you. You've ruined everything. You're such a liar. I love you.
Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?
No, I cannot. And neither can you. You're all quote. Every bit. You can't put two words of your own together. Always someone else's feelings. Some other musician's sample. Other people have to go to hell to find words and music for you. You're fire-proof.
We're made of water.
You're an emotional vampire.
That has a nice ring to it.
You're growing away now. You know this, right?
Back home?
No, this is home. You're home is with me. Within me. But for now you've gone and ruined it. You've cast yourself out. You're without me.
Is there chance for retribution?
The world doesn't work like that. These sorts of answers aren't bestowed upon us from any invisible machine. No Greek's coming down suspended, clothed in bedsheets with a laurel reef round his head to provide you with Cliff's Notes to a menial existence. I don't even know if you can love.
But I do love you. I just haven't done it right.
I know, silly boy. I know.
Hey. This isn't real is it?
No, it isn't.
What happened?
Some bad things. It doesn't matter now. We're sleeping in my bed. The long dark night of our collective soul. You will be on a plane tomorrow, back to America. We're splitting, physically. You'll forget this in the morning. You are an end and a beginning. Not long before your watery self knots back into me. Probably
I don't even want to be this.
You are this.
A manifestation of my higher self?
There is no such thing. You are nothing.
Then what about you?
I am the light.
I want the light.
The pettiness from which your desires emerge doesn't constitute a natural birthright. It's just petty.
It's real.
I need you to prove me wrong then. Can you do that silly boy? You've hurt me unrepairably, but I'll always love you. Prepared to accept you.
I don't even want to be.
You are so stupid. You'd rather disappear. Right into thin air.
Into you. None of this.
Brown skin and brown eyes struck down like a bolt from the blue. Back whence we all came.
The gorgeous Aryan princess of Oz, tip-toeing amongst clouds, for as light as a feather, all blonde and blue and fangs and claws. There need not be any other. I'm all broke up.
Silly little Kelipot spiraling ways from Ein Sof. Where do you get this shit from? You're ridiculous.
I've always been this way.
Stop hiding from the world. You can go down deeper and deeper into the darkness 'til your skin tears off and your skull flies backwards and your meat turns to mush and your bones are ground to dust. 'Til you've no perception of your soul or of self or of matter. But you'll still be. Nothing never ends. I wanted you to join me in love. There is love here everywhere. Even if it's all an illusion. This is you. This is me. Come with me. Feel me. You are you. You are me. You are nothing. This is we.
But then
Track Name: How I learned to walk.
The body is a seashell.
And you can hear the sea if you press
the ear upon your eggshell
deep within the cleavage of the breasts.

'Cos she is
closer to
the sea is
never gonna be his
property is
closer to the sea.

Balls of hail.
Grains of sand.
Tooth and nail.
Red in teeth.
Red in claws.
Paint them red.
It's for the cause.
Every limb
is a fish.
Open up
the oyster.

I've found every time I drown both feet are planted on the ground.
I've found underneath the ground
there's a water like your body and within it
none of me can make a sound.
It's dense.
Everything I am is weighed down.
Try to walk around.
Try to walk around.
Heavy is the crown.

Only you can make it hurt this bad.
I'm fishes in the water.
Only you can make yourself feel sad,
drowning in emotion like a drunken locomotive.
And from my observation, I can find no motive.
Except crawling on your black knees.
Envy binds us all in treason,
nature is faceless and needs not a reason.

Only I can make you feel this good.

Only you can make it hurt this bad.
I'm fishes in the water.
Track Name: Superpredator.
You pull your paws out.
You pull your claws out.
You're spitting venom and whipping your hairy balls out.
I'm being pinned down right into the hard ground.
Before you kiss me, you whisper, "Don't make a sound."
Every time you catch me.
You're always fucking around.

I'm breaking high heels
by Darwin's ideals.
Naked in open fields.
And being open feels
like I cannot feel your spleen as it catches your fur
hahahahahaha well I concur.

You get me off man.
You're not a person.
You're like an animal
and you are the worst one.
You're like a wolf, man,
decked out in sheepskin
let the venom seep in.
Track Name: (screamer.)
And as the shadow's severed from the skin.
Slowly writes its answers on the wind.
Secrets are erected from within, where lies the dream.

Cross-hatching fingers make the pattern clear.
Spidery fingers reaching for a beer.
Darkness lingers, though you've disappeared into the scream.
Track Name: Still.
There's nothing
to talk about
where natives
You took me in
to your arms
a single word
dripping from
your spout.

I'm falling in
to you.
Track Name: Begotten.
Blue eyes
bring us a sword.
You rise
tangled in cord.
gnawed on his spoon.
clawed from the womb.

We draw
blood from a stone.
Hee haw.
Mud on a bone.
Dead leaves
beg us to stay.
And breathe life into clay.

Falling like the petals from
the blackest bough.
Spiraling round the sun
down below.
Turn into a rainbow snake
and crawl into my window.
Endless seeds and dewdrops
rolling downhill.

close to the sea.
Come here
closer to me.
Blue eyes
carry my skin.
And find God
buried within.
Track Name: Memory of a boy (who doesn't exist).
I got this memory of this little boy
who walked around in my apartment in his faded Converse shoes.
And though it wasn't a choice that I wanted to choose,
I figured Fuck it, let's do it, 'cos there's nothing to lose.
I gave him my number.
He came for the summer.
It didn't work out.
But it doesn't matter.
'Cos I don't even know if he existed,
I peruse through every phone book; he's never listed.
Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, he isn't there and baby,
if you ain't there, you ain't really nowhere in this world today.
It's all noise.
I ask the little girls and boys at the strip mall.
They don't even know his name.
I'm feeling like I'm going insane.

I got this memory of this little boy
and he's not me.

Well I was thinking I should take a trip to Stonehenge.
And I'll be looking under everything that's damaged.
The bones, the brains and the kidneys.
The scattered ashes of a million different cities.
Well if I'm not crazy then I can find him.
I got a telescope pointed towards the Pleiades.
Well I can loosen the bands of Orion.
I'll fall apart where angels are dying.

Tut tut it looks like rain.

Secret are the archives and the passageways of broken petals
that line the bricks towards my humble abode.
I cannot drop the load.
This heavy, heavy load.
Each time I kiss a frog he turns into a toad.


I have a memory of this little bird
who flew around in my apartment with a crooked, broken wing.
I mistook it for an angel with a bell that could ring.
I locked it up in a cage, to compel it to sing
but she would deny it.
No, she would not even try it.
So it didn't work out.
But I wouldn't buy it for a second.
You know she said she didn't know if I existed,
looking through my window, perched upon the branches.
Said she saw the ghosts congregate in my living room.
She said that I was one and they were many, so give em room,
and she can't sleep 'cos they make noise.
A slew of dead girls and boys
form the river
and I don't even know their names.
But now I'm here playing their games.

I'm like a memory of a little boy.
And he's not.

I will not return.
But still you'll keep your head up.
Everybody learns
the end is the end.