make it sound like old tapes
make it stink up the culture
make it wet
tear it apart
and bathe in warm friction
pools of static
ripping
we blaze technicolor
and speak
in moss covered hum
split open like fat sizzle
swallow ripe tones
and bite the lobe
cackle in my ear like hot radio
spitting tantrums burn like flying tigers
screaming seasons
crumble and seed
melt it together like waxen lovers
plucked strings strung across her antlers
strum gentle strands
that hang with wisp
a droning chant
does rise like heat
in aching veins
flood orange over thirsty land
make it stink up the culture
make it wet
tear it apart
and bathe in warm friction
pools of static
ripping
we blaze technicolor
and speak
in moss covered hum
split open like fat sizzle
swallow ripe tones
and bite the lobe
cackle in my ear like hot radio
spitting tantrums burn like flying tigers
screaming seasons
crumble and seed
melt it together like waxen lovers
plucked strings strung across her antlers
strum gentle strands
that hang with wisp
a droning chant
does rise like heat
in aching veins
flood orange over thirsty land
