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After the Filmshoot (take 1)

from After the Filmshoot (2002) by fiffdimension

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lyrics

...& just then God comes curling out of the mouth of a Hare Krishna tree singing along thereon with smiling on bouncing bulbous nose walls, a crackling of thunder, a bending love of nurses' benedictions, sanitised raspberries & a godawful refrain. He shatters feet tapping skulls cracked in holy ghosts, & just then at that moment the priest with his pants down comes cowled in gullibility, flows through the road & is nevermore worshipped. Our rubber band limbs fly tumble apart. Sanitation contours, & the sky opened up into layers of plastic, detaching loose cables from window-lit skull. Halloween candles to light from within. Torture chamber moaned inside nostril contours - beating its wings the newly hatched bird. The jungle cries 'what is this shit?'. Oh we're in the shadows, purple coming down on the right, circles ground into powder, freeform worriedness allowed/aloud on the streets. A rubber skull taking off - bing bong hullabaloo - and parents' war on drugs. Elastic cracked in the ceiling. Baby soldiers, paratroopers, bungy jump down & she is metamorphosis. We are widening into outdoors. We are no longer inside but out below stars. A burst of laughter come along exactly 2.1 seconds after punchline delivered. We are all fakes. Someone turns into a corkscrew over on my right. I sit here alone. Team talk ahead, and I turn into favourites. The stomach all sparkles. All there a not chance. Got to escape, all there and not chance. No added sugar. The chorus expands, rising bubbles of tones, leads to a '70s style glam version of a Texas country & western revival. A bit of grease between you & the weather. Devils raid kitchens. She'll be classically lit & modelled in position - I've been ignoring her all night. They talk in tableau. I have ashes in my mouth, but this is purely coincidence. A glance in the right. Biological engineering division calls us into molten swill. Your brain a bowl of porridge, and that's if you're lucky. Do they say that in England? Idiot madman glued to his chair. A mouth with no face. Taking notes throughout the performance. Humans become worms, with a sameness that is frightening. Politics is bad: we knew this already, but now it's confirmed. Collapse into laughter. A cigarette chair from which comes a dictator; everyone in thrall to his conversation. A plastic wooden horse to capture the city -incongruous? Indeed. Expelled all the virtues? You to decide. Just like a snake shedding its skin, I escape from Greek tragedies. It fell away like a casing, my link to the Earth. My face fully wax. Back into dame housing. Meanwhile, he said the word 'om' & immediately felt an amazing sense of wholeness & oneness with the universe & also experienced a terrific bowel movement.

credits

from After the Filmshoot (2002), released October 10, 2002
Dave Edwards - electric guitars, electronics, vocal

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fiffdimension Featherston, New Zealand

Outsider music from Aotearoa NZ and beyond, by Dave Edwards and collaborators (from 1856 to 2024).

Spans acoustic & electric noise, rock, folk, spoken word, postpunk, free jazz, gamelan, lo fi, electronica, & ethnomusicology.

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