Pulp. Masters Of The Universe. Aborigine. Zeneszám
"A real kitchen sink drama. This kind of thing happens all the time and it
leaves a nasty stain on the shag-pile." Starts so slowly, just a place to
stay... Somewhere warm where they can spend their days. Air is stagnant
and he feels unclean. Hair hangs greasy and he smells obscene.
Something's happened and it's not so good, broken bottles in the face of
love. Mottled flesh under the harsh strip light. Nylong sheets to keep
them warm at night. Once it's started it can never stop, fills his heaf
with a dark damp fog. In the distance is a constant cry, growing louder as
the years go by, days get longer and he starts to drunk, spews his stomach
in the kitchen sink. Tells his children they should have respect, tells
his wife she's a nervous wreck. He hates his wife and he hates them all.
He hates his wife and he hates them all. Can't be bothered when it's all
the same, leave it long enough; it goes away. In the meantime stomach
turns to fat. She tries to tell him but he can't have that. She's only
jealous and she's telling lies. Standing naked in his flesh disguise. It
took him years to get her into bed; now he's got her he just wants her
dead. She wants excitement and she needs romance, all she gets is dirty
underpants. Stupid animal that can't know why, something's wrong so
someone has to die. The wind is blowing and the rain falls down, sends his
family on a trip downtown. Sees them die in a burning wreck. Sees them
burn, smokes a cigarette. He hates his wife and he hates them all. He
knows he's finished but he can't stop now and he wants to end it but he
can't see how and it's all in pieces, thrown it all away. Ih, but he's not
ugly he just looks that way. And he wants some quiet and he needs it now
but the scream he started's getting far too loud. He still pretends he
does it just for now; his day will come he'll lose it all somehow. Killing
time until his ship arrives; been dead 10 years but he's still alive. And
the time is wasted and the ship has sunk but he hasn;t noticed and he comes
home drunk. He's just dead weight he'll never leave the ground, he tries
to stand but he keeps falling down. It's hard to know he doesn't count for
much. He's not a has-been; just a never-was. He hates his wife and he
hates them all.
leaves a nasty stain on the shag-pile." Starts so slowly, just a place to
stay... Somewhere warm where they can spend their days. Air is stagnant
and he feels unclean. Hair hangs greasy and he smells obscene.
Something's happened and it's not so good, broken bottles in the face of
love. Mottled flesh under the harsh strip light. Nylong sheets to keep
them warm at night. Once it's started it can never stop, fills his heaf
with a dark damp fog. In the distance is a constant cry, growing louder as
the years go by, days get longer and he starts to drunk, spews his stomach
in the kitchen sink. Tells his children they should have respect, tells
his wife she's a nervous wreck. He hates his wife and he hates them all.
He hates his wife and he hates them all. Can't be bothered when it's all
the same, leave it long enough; it goes away. In the meantime stomach
turns to fat. She tries to tell him but he can't have that. She's only
jealous and she's telling lies. Standing naked in his flesh disguise. It
took him years to get her into bed; now he's got her he just wants her
dead. She wants excitement and she needs romance, all she gets is dirty
underpants. Stupid animal that can't know why, something's wrong so
someone has to die. The wind is blowing and the rain falls down, sends his
family on a trip downtown. Sees them die in a burning wreck. Sees them
burn, smokes a cigarette. He hates his wife and he hates them all. He
knows he's finished but he can't stop now and he wants to end it but he
can't see how and it's all in pieces, thrown it all away. Ih, but he's not
ugly he just looks that way. And he wants some quiet and he needs it now
but the scream he started's getting far too loud. He still pretends he
does it just for now; his day will come he'll lose it all somehow. Killing
time until his ship arrives; been dead 10 years but he's still alive. And
the time is wasted and the ship has sunk but he hasn;t noticed and he comes
home drunk. He's just dead weight he'll never leave the ground, he tries
to stand but he keeps falling down. It's hard to know he doesn't count for
much. He's not a has-been; just a never-was. He hates his wife and he
hates them all.
Masters Of The Universe
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