Lavender lipstick giving a goodbye.
Compressor snake skin around my thigh,
Like a tapestry I can hang on my wall.
The prophet; the arc moving slow.
Something to worship: something deformed.
She’s putris and knows how to harness her glow.
Crumbling, reducing, Aiesr melts the snow.
She gives me a root canal, head on pillow.
She gives me my own thoughts, pills & pressure.
Mambo guides me through a polluted swamp,
Stands with me as I crawl up the tyrant’s sleeping throne.
Driving my heel into his scales,
I impale him with his own crown.
Straddling the fussy little man,
I scratch and open his chest.
Emerge; creep forth the cycle of life.
Your hands will no longer drown.
supported by 5 fans who also own “The Upper World”
Shoegaze overdosing on meth and caffeine pills. Every release on Cloudrat's discography is a different flavor of insanity. This one is rocky road with a twist of antifreeze. Ghuughra
From the first deadened cowbell to the last dissonant guitar interval, Dutch quartet Geo's new record is shaped for impact. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 25, 2024