SOLEFALD - Neonism
Speed Increased To Scaffold
A sotto voce song for the soprano singer
Whose tyrannical arias won't cease to linger
Bob's out there- none of us play cool
Classmates in a haunted school
Agent Dale Cooper won't take you any higher
C'mon li'l boy 'n play with the fire
Surrounded by the presence of the absent teacher
Both knowing silence as the music of the future
Surrendered at the serpent's burning gates of fear
If you think that this is hell- the truth's in there
The world situation calls for evacuation
We wait in the dark for the next ejaculation
Your black finger nails clasp the candelabra
Turn the light on I see the abracadabra
Naomi does the catwalk even when it snows
Male photographers so envious it shows
The stage their temple their trampoline to trance
Trampled and turned by the transvestite's dance
It's not Naomi- it's the Marlboro Man
If you want to run I understand
The night dies on a daily basis
The solar orbit doesn't disturb my ekstasis
Searching for knowledge in the spirit of Tintin
Alone on a plain with Plato and Plotin
My forehead bronzed by the Lamborghini moon
I'm out of my night tomorrow at noon
Lead the suntan astray kick the cancer away
I'll kill my ego on a hidden highway
Invoke the big silence on this small disc
Trespasser listener on your own risk
Outside of our chords and choirs of the sublime
Reality is nothing but a heartbeat in time
Outside of the bass and the blitzing blastbeat
A massive vacuum whose ambition's complete
All-sound without sound booming all around
All-sound without sound booming all around
Enjoy the years of work in these minutes of movement
You evolve in our improvement
With a linear scaffold still to fulfill
I exercise a style of radical will
Accelerate the ratioplane past the sound barrier
To accomplish the bang the whole of my career
Masculine motorcar Technowork sublime
Be beaten or compete this is the last heat
The Tiger Sky's jaws break the neck of Time
Speed increased to scaffold
Silence be complete
__________
CK II Chanel No. 6
Come to me through the channels of the soul
Pantheon of designer rock'n'roll
The war broke out in the back of my head
No victims but several dead
Clear the lounge furnished with skulls
Put out my heart and replace it with pulse
Love is the glue of our fragmentary nature
Highly compatible with winner culture
Marx in the red corner Machiavelli in the blue
Equality asked for K.O. and got it too
The police shield and the arse-licking swan
System run by N.Selection & Son
Charles Darwin - I don't want to be rude
But the panic-stricken herd trades its neck for food
Ladykillers Maneaters fight about the roadmaps
Predators chase prey from mobile death-traps
Coco Chanel - welcome to hell
Let me out of my prison cell
I bring you hot towels and flamboyant oils
I'm a cat stuck beetween transparent doors
Prometheus chained I wait for the eagle
To peck out my liver through the bullet-proof glass
Survival of the fittest suits me fine
The truth as it was told to me by Calvin Klein
__________
Proprietors Of Red
The world is my will and I will a cigar
A coronas corona creation of sound
Cedar matchsticks light the best Cuban brand
Hiroshima hides in this fat Havana
A motion picture to rewind and remaster
The director died in a Nietzschean crash
Franco-American power premiere
CKII Chanel no. 6
Compact disc cinema constructed for passion propaganda
Across the widescreen
Proprietors of Red prepare the cigar
The black car slid through the dust on its aluminium belly
The snake granted them the power from an unexpected angle
C&K clad the continents in haute couture
The clothes are worn out it's time to undress
A scene in fast motion
The New Timelessness
Some Tom Cruise crosses the landing ground
His last cigarette before changing history
The pilot climbs into the Priapus cockpit
Uncle Unkind's got something to deliver
A readymade rainfall of stillgoing drops
Compact disc cinema constructed for passion propaganda
Across the widescreen
Proprietors of Red Prepare the Big Boy
Let's inhale the Big Bang
Some billion years in one single breath
If you want to be to Omnipolis what God was to Sodoma
Open this
__________
Backpacka Baba
Crime's the other side of what's right
Baba lives on the wrong side of the earth
On a plain flat planet he would've been white
Nobleman by name aristocrat by birth
Selling shades on the beach my daily routine
Matches the irony of your Western magazine
Papayabananacakecoconutjuice!
Baby with the basket pushes fruits and news
White man came across the sea
To change my under-developed diaper
White man came across the sea
To wipe my ass with tabloid paper
I'm a passionate man help me first
Ease my hunger quench my thirst
Can you see yourself devoured
I'll do anything to stay empowered
Part of him feels like some new kind of Noah
But all he can carry is a m3 of Goa
Big Mother Ocean shut the stereo down
He travelled to listen not to see
On Arambol Beach his guitar will still sound
When the last black man's crossed the sea
His earth turned flat his passport photo black
Backpacker Baba's never coming back
__________
The New Timelessness
Proprietors of Red and Priests against Prozac
Propose one hour of messianic mozart
Wolfgang Amadeus a.k.a. Muzak
Got himself a VISA and went wild in the popmart
The 23rd player thrashing the rest of his team
Flashed his ability to discard the mainstream
Largo to presto he grieves the accelerando's finite
Headphones on tight more beats pr minute!
Stepping on his watch enters the state of Freedia
Fucking the hostility inherent in the media
From chronological to kairological measure of the linear time
Unjustly installed
as the distinguo between work and pleasure
Serial time personal sublime
Immortalizing the point on the line that's meandered in a circle
The revolution of all the small parts that constitute the cosmos in
Which you speed for a paradise moving just ahead but slightly faster
Middle-aged monster get out of here!
Cyclical patterns don't fit your square ear
Sensing so slowly you mistake the Sunset of Sole
For the longed-for legendary sunrise of old
Your sexist ratio pervades the hearts
Your racist sexio misinterprets the arts
Decay's seized your sensorial protection
The only thing evil's your own perception
We rest on day seven
On day eight we blast heaven