(this was an early version of The Devouring Machines)
lyrics
He began to wonder if he were hallucinating, but the visions consist of nothing, and I kept thinking, don't write them, don't talk about it. They paid us to find the anagrams but his figures kept running away from us as if to be hidden within the beast, for a thousand years were finished and removed from history as an abortive failure, as time stood still. They were told that they should not be everything, but these bastard ones, with palm branches in their hands bent and gnarled like serpents, they became as ten thousands of thousands; and he spoke like a hermetic memory about the details of the Nicolaitans likewise, but they did not listen, they became multiples, and could not maintain a hold on the earth. The fifth poured out his bowl into the eye through the media archaelologist's feverish interest for the generation of figures in movement by the voluptuous pulse-echo beating beneath that cushion of indulgent, ecstatic meat. Just sit and ponder, I heard a loud voice, saying, thus with violence will Babylon fall, the couple's fidgeting indicative only a falling dream of a recursive neural trap, which the Cult of the Yellow Sign deemed Meta. Our project at present calls for the war of that dream, and at the end, to the delirious community of interet users who all consider themselves artists, so as to torment them for five years. The sound of chariots, or of effects, were all around us. I'm a god-damn licensed Professor of Surgery, and your poverty is all you know. He was thrown down to his feet, the tracks in the snow were like a text, which is like the mandala of Harmony -- but it is the number of those who say they are virgins. These images may seem merely decorative or arbitrary to us, and, particularly with regard to optics, useless in the interpretation of the full-scale auditory ceremony: the ladder, the machine, the infernal text, the highway of mirrors. The taste of the milk from the million breasts of the hidden mother, the memory drug, would your stomach bitter, but none would ache in muscle. You held me as a wondrous, gentle movement upwards in the imagery of the fever or some glitch and the tribes of the earth will turn something like a sect or political party? The members of an obscure chamber that could capture individual images in concentric circles on a professorial archive, assisted by the second death, he developed a heliotropic telescope, a Temple hidden in plain sight, when she didn't know he was thrown into the future, the endless hallway, I come. Her children were caught up to reality but were far more often sacrificed to the image. Now clearly, if he wants his Cylert this week, he will be in it. Death of objective techniques converge.
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