Saturine Jesus forgot to wipe the juice off his boots. And so I went into it, and the sky was like a blanket. Where are we? In the waiting room, of course. Hyperspace as a mental state, broadcasting the carrier wave of the universal O-wen, which converges in 4D space creating monuments to our template reality. It’s all bullshit, of course. But it’s also more then bullshit. It’s foundational to our experience of existence. Like an architects plan, it marks the boundary between what we know as “real” and what lies beyond the door. It is the landscape of insanity, and the blueprint for all future hells.
The song can be found here, on our SOUNDCLOUD page.
FIVE TONS OF FLAX
Skot Pollok / Chance Derek Gregory
The Electric Heathens
Every thirty one hundred and twenty five years or so
The Bozo Brigade and their whores all have a go
At running the whole damn thing in the dirt
To see how far down it can go
….And then they trade it all in on the backs of
A billion lost souls
Now – This is a SHOUT OUT to all of my friends in the Mesh
From Aji Gabbaro to Denny Koresh – and the rest
Too stubborn to quit and – too dumb to learn
We stare at the fire while the whole world burns
For FIVE – TONS OF FLAX we can trade it all in
On the last big bang 'fore the clocks
Go to zero – again
RISE RISE
Lift your eyes to the skies
And cash in your chips while the whole world dies
Tonight
Now its thirty one hundred and twenty five years down the HOLE
and the Bozo Brigade and their whores are still runnin' the show
They're DRIVIN' the whole damn thing off the tracks
To see how far down – it can go go go
….Before they trade it back in on the backs of a billion NEW souls
Now this is a SHOUT OUT to all of my friends in the Mesh
and every Bio-Morph Skin job who never sold out to the ‘PLEX
To all the Infonaut soldiers with – cold mirror stares
Who never bow down and DON’T say their prayers
We don't say our prayers
RISE RISE
Raise your eyes to the simulated skies
And GRIND for more E-X-P while the universe dies
RISE RISE
Strap your shells to a Paradox Drive
And Aim for the next BIG BANG while the universe dies
--For five tons of Flax--
--We’re gonna take it all back--
It’s thirty one hundred and twenty five years
For billions in bodies and trillions in tears
For five tons of Flax -- but don’t take it too far
And remember to aim for the prettiest star
--We want the prettiest star--
--We want the prettiest star--
RISE RISE
Raise your eyes to the simulated skies
And – play in the sun – while the universe dies
The Electric Heathens -- Five Tons of Flax by COEH
