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lyrics

The Beast Machine

Spirals, hexes, machinations of the infinite blood mind
(throat full of spines and packs of sweetheart wolves)
decorate these city streets with sad blooms
these patterns seep through the substructure
cracks
and fissures runic predictions in a tongue few decipher
but if you peel back a slab there are wires, pipes, clock
cog wheels and through these veins the beast intones its wants
and the ants obey. At night the beast’s eyes patrol in cars,
they loiter on corners, they tear each others throats
(enlist FEAR to keep the cloned ants in their dens).
Patterns swirl oily puddles in a back street where square chested
guardians wait with gaping mouths to consume the corrupted
(old bits, mould bits, broken, wrecked, a plastic bag full
of punctured heads) offerings to back yard gods whose acolytes
are living wrongs and the reflections of the universe swirl
in a puddle of filth, a portal of wrongs,beautiful and toxic
(you really wouldn’t want to drink that).
Archway legs, shadows filled with the old drunk’s snores cut like saws
shifts in dreamless slumber as his breakfast rolls away.
Fused in betrayal couples in the park plant dreams into the febrile earth
for nightmare trees to grow beneath the poisoned sky. The eyes are roving,
chasing the lovers before the tide of curfew when the streets are chocka
with the strangulated chants driven to a frenzy by the beast
driven into a bloodlust for the beast.

Tales of lust and perjury, billboard platitudes for the ant hoards happiness –
a new pair of shoes and a look to fall into to (the sky is upside down it shall
swallow you) deep into shallow. Flicker box dictation, no more bible than bile
bull but you can fix a cross across old wounds to suit and close your eyes to the
machine beast's howl (of delight in dreams hear his sick chuckle, gurgle of sewers,
a crisp packet trapped on a clothes line). In the core of him, the black heart;
cyclops god of commerce glares from shining towers, psychic enunciators
dispel the crowds of those awoken and intone the brutal law of need/it’s ours
(hands off!). but down, get subterranean gloom in a labyrinth of mazes, the core
of him deep within. A rotting mass of laughing faces choking tubes
and wires part machine
and teeth.

credits

from Dave Migman and Spleen Erebus - Organ Seer, released May 5, 2014

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SaKaC / Spleen / Erebus / RA image

SaKaC / Spleen / Erebus / RA Serbia

My music is coming from the most secret and dark part of our soul that cannot be seen with the eyes - our primal nature! Dark ambient, experimental, drone musick is conjuring the occult hidden spheres of myself representing complete freedom when viewed from the highest plane of thought. Spleen is escape from the suffering of this world through aesthetic enjoyment, rejecting my humanity. ... more

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