Post by sonja on Mar 3, 2008 14:47:18 GMT -5
strange fruits
01. psycho garden
02. twice
03. cream
04. rusty
05. gin no hari
06. henge
1. psycho garden
from outside the window
i can hear a song
in the park, a red-eyed child has started roasting his dog
sundays like that
under an orange sun
my body swallowed up, over and over
by horrid sensations
a pregnant woman
fallen to the floor
a grey rat gnaws on her nails; i crush it underfoot
watching you
falling slowly
down the spiral stairs
i don't need you at all
in this damp room
they've locked me away
but i'm going to escape
i'm going to escape
ah ...
a bald girl
above the ceiling
picks out lovely words from a dirt-stained picture book ...
--
psycho garden
From outside the window I hear a song
In the park a child with red eyes has started roasting a dog
Those sort of sundays glowed orange
The most hideous sensations would continuously envelope my body
Rolling down the hallway
Gnawing at the nails of an expectant mother
A grey mouse is crushed underfoot
Down a spiral staircase
Slowly descending
It is pathetic you
At whom I stare
As in a damp room
I am locked away
I'm going to escape
I'm going to get away
Ah...
A girl without hair on the ceiling
Picks out gorgeous words from a grimy book of pictures...
2. twice
Even if, let's just say you were laughing right before me
Deprived of sufficient oxygen, I'd be continually gasping for air
It's as if not one thing has been born of my gloomy morning
Perplexing, repeating
A horrible midday dream
From here on in I'll be frightened, so please find me
For a little while I searched a pale, narrow room
I'm sure it is hidden in the place I least expect
Night pervades, and once more suddenly left alone I think I'm going to cry
Yet brought forth by the smell of the rain, I've become just a little more composed
The insects inhabiting my head are clamoring a gentle pain enshrouds
And I think I'm turning strange...
Though it seemed like I wanted to fall down into it all look before the door, I'm smiling
3. cream
My head is dizzy it keeps jumping around the room
The closed window the toppled chair
Laugh at me mockingly in this bizarre state
As much as the night deepens, you see
My childishness will again increase
In the white away I'll swim
Amidst the colour, melt away
Bright songs before my eyes
Sung by one who recommends them in such a way
That I sense the end and begin to cry
With murky eyes, he is forever
Repeating the same words, over and over
Perhaps it's that he is pushing
His whole world on to me
My breeding cage of a world
- towards it you're always gazing
In the pale blue fog clutching my bag under my arm,
I fear my misted surrounds
I'm pretending not to hear In this horribly imaginative
Tuesday, enveloped, I smile
Before a sunny bed of flowers,
I chew my pills, and sit and sit
"Atmospheric vortexes"
"Ways to die"
"Lies which won't leave you alone"
And the like,
All of it before my eyes wavers... wavers... wavers...
I am forgiven, and the sleep-like sensation breaks away
In a gentle patch of fallen sunlight in the park
5. gin no hari
Deep in my ear a screw begins to turn;
It hurts so much I start to cry
But I've already asked too much of you
So I won't feel anything anymore
The tramp who laughs at me sitting on a bench in the subway
Has the same laugh as the bride in a movie I saw once, long ago yes
Already the needle won't go in properly
I haven't had it in since yesterday
I want the same piano and toy box as everyone else
Posing as a kid from a previous marriage, she's acting nervous
She pretends to light a candle
Into these mere fantasies, I descend
On my platinum bed, look ——————
Deep in my side Deep in my side In these hands of mine
Sickness my life Sickness my life I'm watching you fall
Deep in my side Deep in my side In these hands of mine,
Sickness my life Sickness my life falling
6. henge / abstruct my life
This afternoon, the anesthesia is cut off and sensitivity is shown.
Looking at the flowers in the vase, aren't they beautiful?
Blooming from the needle, blood overflows with the transparency of memories.
Even if you smile, I will become just a "machine."
The trecherous canary has flown from the birdcage.
Inside myself "the axis" becomes bent little by little.
The desired scent hides in the shadow of the white tile.
The memories of the womb are lost, I will become just a "machine."
Painted over instincts.
Tell me, where are they hidden?
Even despair has contact.
It is possible to find.