African Space
Man's own extinction's built on solid stone -
hewn by distinctions like servant and the throne.
No sleep will come - we, as fuell, shall burn on
as charcoal minds of fuse and wiring.
To near the core - turn our backs on wisdom.
We'll waste our lives to find that nothing's wrong.
Where is the hand that holds the primal right of way?
Our planned existence - castles in the sky.
No rest will come for these guards of boredom.
As eyes put in the darkened face of night -
that look away from all truth and wisdom -
we'll waste our lives to find that nothing's wrong.
Waking from the dream of reason.
Calculating our own cost.
Units slipping through the system.
Products of machines of loss.
No sleep will come - we, as fuell, shall burn on
as stars put in the darkened face of night.
To near the core - turn our backs on wisdom.
We'll waste our lives to find that nothing's wrong.
Converse
Heaven is eternal converse:
without place, just space,
and void of defenition, identity.
Knowledge becomes interaction of the organs of reality.
No time, just moment:
not passing only wandering in existence of this all.
Driving
In passing, overtaking becomes a way to fake it.
Progress in passing fakes a way to become.
Driving down the road, looking for a sign.
I'm no one, but it still feels like I'm alive.
Driving down the road I'd like to seem a bit surprised.
Looking at the sky I'd like to open up my eyes.
Reaching for the sun I'd like to try to catch the wind.
If I can't do that I'd rather quit before it ends.
Driving down the road - never turning back.
Because it's a waste of any man's time to do that.
Digging in the sand, searching for my name.
Getting out the car I realise that it was just a dream.
Homeless
there is no light to see
there is no memory
perception of our outer shell
intellect our only holy cow
these houses and these streets
no longer home for me
blatant in their vivid detail
no longer holds reality
no light to see
to build my memories
standing in the city streets
with newspaper blown at my feet
it screams through me with withered hopes
with yellow eyes and rusted souls
under every neon light
is a piece of grey lit up bright
but let me ask you what is real
of what we hear and what we feel
no light to see
to build my memories
try standing on your own two feet
try looking past all that you see
Into Distance
there is no place to go
but back in history
I see you standing there, in candlelight, waiting for me
you - think back to me too
to the boys in the back
I'm not just saying this shit
but in fact it's not 'bout the rhytm, the style or the pace
it's in the words that choose
and the meanings you face
Radiofuse
I have been dreaming of the day
that you'll switch over
to save the signal from decay
receive it sober
waving comes to late
learn to hesitate
and then it came to me
as I was nearly on my way
change the frequency
learn to live and modulate
I have been dreaming of the day
that you came over
and bringing with you songs to play
no more hung over
saving comes to late
learn to concentrate
and then you said to me
as I was nearly on my way
know the frequency
learn to live and alternate
Living Is Fatal
finding the password to get to the data
is useless like searching for your own creator
what is the worth of each day of living
when no one is sure just how much they're giving?
I am the traitor that sold your ideas
in light of my deeds I have nothing but fear
while on the subject of communication
who are these people that speak for the nation?
endlessly working toward the destruction
and flipping the switch on all modes of instruction
listening to no one should shape your ideals
become a unit that thiks and that feels
why is there nothing you don't have to pay for?
living with neighbors who are too close for comfort
on the horison the structures keep growing
like the fronteirs that we're aready mapping
the dynamics of extinction
built on rocks of solid stone
hewn by casual distinction
between the servant and the throne
holds the hand of holy purpose
high the primal right of way
and our code of planned existence
cowhide castles in the sky
still no one is preaching that living is fatal
we bury the dead to expand our foundations
question the doctors and the engineers
rekindle passion and reclaim you fears
endlessly working toward the destruction
Tigers
where are the boundaries you set for me?
where resides the fear?
the threat of tigers and rejection?
No, I fear not, I fear
therefore I hunger for a role
for to be known is to live
even as clown or fool
I'll live for I'll live
as outcast still the outcast
as king only king
but faceless numbers take the post
and knowledge takes the wing
this is the ballad of the mass
Desert
desert, lay bare the bones of our lostness -
the white organs like gems in your skin -
drink my eternal waiting:
teach the riches of sand, the perpetuity of sky
raise wind as a shield -
scatter knowledge as dust:
the heavenly machinery of loss
Egosystem
This is a life as many others:
with brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers.
The jagged edge of martyrdom:
with both relief and slow poison.
This is me as no other:
a vast continent to discover.
The mathematics of the brain:
egosystematic refrain.
This is a day as many others:
with morning, midday, clouds and feathers.
Blowing in the mind and eyes,
clouds sailing in wooden skies.
This is as many others:
with thoughts, emotions, plans and covers.
The deafening noise of flashing thoughts:
building memories, facts and forts.
Everybody Hz
These are my hollow covers,
these are my shells:
comets with no orbits -
paths of broken glass.
These are my words.
These are my thoughts.
Born in July I care for cold.
Organically differentiate -
solid, fluid with rigid shape.
Breaking the surface as a blade
of no un-natural intent -
these are my movements,
these are my plans.
These are my thoughts.
These are my shields:
weapons and pages, frames and things.
No great important scaffolding
supporting building works of mine.
Allways renewed,
never removed.
Lifting the eye -
theoretic views.
These are my ramblings
all my landmarks
Machine
we are inhaled by the machine
and in it life begins
in vast amounts of enclosed space.
each the only of a race
in this chartered place
reality becomes erased
here we are
here we stay
we will be here anyway -
I don't know any more than you.
we are lost
we are blind
we are conscious of our kind
I don't care any more than you.
here we plan
here we build
and our dreams become fulfilled -
I don't do any more than you.
and we search
and we strive
we have science on our side -
I don't think any more than you.
we are the limbs of the machine
in this charcoal dream
inhaling fumes of time and place.
eternally we stay in line
in this freedom illusion
worshipping the master plan
we can't run
we can't hide
no one knows the other side -
I don't have any more than you.
we are caged
life is fraud
and our consciousness is flawed
I don't see any more than you.
The Fall
jack of all trades
but master of none
the weight of the matter
the size of the sun
always the traveller
never at home
the distance to insight -
the shape of a dome
alone and labouring
in lifeless land
the river rolls
and carves its stone
but no stone will ever
turn to sand
for life is death
and hope lost land
in all lies nothing
in nothing lies all
in blindness the theory
and in sureness the fall
One & One
lost in this fragile morning light
I fear the complications of our plight
are still drawing near
is it logical?
is it worth to fear?
one and one is not two
back to moving forward
I see them passing me by
like I'm not even here
is there a reason to life
or am I just running scared?
now the impending retribution seems so clear
like some softly whispered words still ringing im my ears
is it logical?
is it worth to fear?
People
Threaten the weaklings and murder the good.
Fill up the empty and cut off the root.
Corner the blind with vioces unheard.
Lay on the dumb the curse of the word.
In darkened streets it comes -
The looking - and the searching eye.
Yet transcend all words -
And you will never fear to die.
Threaten the weaklings and murder the good.
Fill up the empty and cut off the root.
Reality does not surrender -
To all that's mystically true.
These figures - black on white -
Becomes a new archetype
Darkness in daytime -
Becomes a fire at night.
Fearless Shade Of Dumb
when we come into this world
we feel that nothing could go wrong
as we see the the light go green
we turn a fearless shade of dumb
the great potentiality
where should I go?
to rooms void of humanity
alive with wiring
should I go?
Die Swarte Osse (A.G Visser)
Die jare kom die bulte oor
Soos sware, swarte osse;
Dwarsoor my hart lê hulle spoor -
Die vaalstreep deur die bosse.
Die jare kom, die jare gaan,
Al dieper sny die groewe;
Gebroke is ek en gedaan
Deur hulle sware hoewe.
Thin Line
if you let me go
I'll be out of this town
but pretty soon
you'll be standing there
across the room
on this thin line
I'll have to pack and go
I'm on thin ice
so please just let me go