Song picture
A Beautiful Machine
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A strange, somewhat grim vehicle of electropunk-inspired industrial pop nonsense. I've been told my lyrics verge on the slightly intense. With effortless underg
I'd love to sound more like :Wumpscut: or Katscan or someone like that but I'm afraid that's unlikely. I've spent too many years looking for proper industrial punk bands and the sort of hairy European misanthropes that float my boat, but come up empty, so I thought I'd do it myself. That said, I cringe listening to my own tunes - which unfortunately I've been known to do sometimes; possibly because they're all gloriously unhinged. I suppose Jandek and Suckdog are role models as well then. Does this break the 'evil Nihilistic bleakness' third wall a bit? I always wonder that about industrial and post-industrial groups. They all sound so sensible and dour. That said, I'd like to think my real life is somewhat grim, and I'm not just moaning on about Nazi zombies or cybernetic hookers or something. You get a lot of dental references in my stuff. Much as I try not to glorify it, that's probably because I've been known to chew sweet dripping fuck out of myself on occasion and would at least like to be allowed to complain about that decidedly unorthodox state of affairs occasionally. The attitude of Whitehouse, Brighter Death Now, Swans and Painslut filtered through the crappy techno pop bleepery of whatever modern toss I'm subconsciously influenced by, I suppose. Right, that's enough bands name-dropped. Just listen to it if you're curious.
Song Info
Author
Ben Power/Ben Power
Uploaded
August 24, 2015
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.2 MB 128 kbps 4:32
Lyrics
A Beautiful Machine Staring into your eyes Eight knots of night As you grip your shabby altar spitting out spite Stung by a butterfly with wings of tin Your poker in the fire And a rattling rictus grin You’re a web of wild confusion Like sugar from a gun Frost flowers in the desert In the dark lands of the sun A Gnostic gallows gardener Under razor-ripped clouds Sing your sandpaper lullabies To still the cattle crowds Drowning in glitter Drink the stars from the sky You’re a beautiful machine The best that money can buy But don’t try to measure your words in love Just old lines scrawled in dirt From that hackneyed glove With your dirty little dogmas cloaked in infantile spin You’re never there to finish what you care to begin Suck out my sense with sordid-secret ease Every day we remain stained with new disease You tear friends open looking for the ends You slip your toxins into every lisp of light you send So you can sink your rhinestone teeth into this cold red dusk You’ll find that’s all that’s left when you betray my trust Drowning in glitter Drink the stars from the sky You’re a beautiful machine The best that money can buy But don’t try to measure your words in love Just old lines scrawled in dirt From that hackneyed glove Drowning in glitter Drink the stars from the sky You’re a beautiful machine The best that money can buy But don’t try to measure your words in love Just old lines scrawled in dirt From that hackneyed glove Drowning in glitter Drink the stars from the sky You’re a beautiful machine The best that money can buy A lost-and-found trauma clown Skipping round your own frown Grip slack Maniac There’s no going back
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