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lyrics

You are a Wild Wind

You are a wild wind
that blows upward and downward.
Your starter button
grappling hook and high-powered magnet
located under the driver’s seat.
I can see it now
You are easily flattered as your ego is so fragile and flaky.
Your strong need for rock’n’roll
means a singularity,

With your prick out,
wanking into the microphone of solid matter
on the far side of a sheet of glass
just after dawn and eighty feet straight down.
Shot your bolt onto the floor.
Staring at the screen,
He squinted to see it sink to its resting place,
a negative void nearly two hundred feet below.
Like magic, everything fell into place,
barefoot, uncaring
into the crack on the video recorder

I thought,
my God, she really likes it!
Whatever she felt,
my little weapon was not adverse to her plump pubis.
But within ninety seconds
Ping!
Total organ failure.
The situation was extremely fluid
and instantly went limp
dripping over her.
A tiny tremor.
“Oh, shit,”
But…
Dark Sun grasped my penis and wanked it furiously.
I whimpered in agony.
Holy shit.
First with one, two handgrips on my love machine,
a flaming erection.
I felt the circulation surge
I was nearly ready to shoot.

After weeks of nosing round the congested streetscape
of ruined buildings, squats, bedsits and anti-matter,
motorway services,
city blocks passing in a blur.
Through the metal handles,
thin rectangular conduits
a big widescreen TV,
wire-rim glasses.

He slouched and sniffed.
Little juicy twots,
smoke trails,
custard powder,
a crystal ball,
his arm,
his hands,
his bum,
the café,
unlocked conversations,
the game plan,
the hopeful glimmer,
the shrieking siren,
groans of delight,
bright-red posters,
teaching notes.
He tasted spray tan boxer shorts
jeans and vomit.

He kept checking his phone.
Checked the piece of paper
his contact at the university had sent him.
He was about to turn away
when he noticed that the door
was now revealed
as a nerve mound
of stone and plaster
that mainly emanated from her body.

Squinted his eyes to focus his frown.
A stack of rock that grew to incredible size
in a local nipple landmark,
imprisoned between my thumb
and folding realities of video pre-production
silhouetted against the sticky light from inside.
Six sisters, six.

He was sitting,
one leg on either side of her,
flapping his hands.
It was a machine here on Earth
that is somehow removed.
It is lowered onto the remainder
resting on the stacked boards
we lower it just as we raised it,
and this time,
sealed it between them.

credits

from The Pre​-​War Noise Encryption Standard, released February 3, 2023

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Nocturnal Emissions Cornwall, UK

Nocturnal Emissions' Nigel Ayers has continued to work with a strong underground of cult support, avoiding music industry fashions, and following his own creative path he concentrated on creating a strong sense of a wilderness identity through sound.

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