From the lip of the vial
To the tip of the spade
To the moon bayoneting the window shade
To the bloody hands
Of the gunclad lawman
From the edge of the rule
To the tip of the nail
To the blood of the Son in the father’s grail
To the dying hare
In the hunter’s snare
Is this how your thoughts arrange
When mania calls your name
And compulsion climbs the vein?
You could well despair
If what you find
Touches off the air
And what’s left behind
Throws your mind
Into disrepair
You could well despair
For quite some time
If the will is there
If you’re so inclined… (Oh…)
From the coil of the spring
To the teeth of the gear
To the suicide hung from the chandelier
To the drowning stray
In the cistern spillway
From the lip of the vial
To the tip of the spade
To the shadows entwined with the colonnade
To the wretch’s spite
With no end in sight
A former incarnation of Strange Passage. Shoegaze in the vein of Chapterhouse, The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa, Lush, et al. Homegrown in Somerville, MA. Strange Passage
Kraut- and giallo-indebted synth "scores" for horror movies that don't exist. Fans of Goblin, Fabio Frizzi, John Carpenter, and Tangerine Dream take note. Strange Passage