The Octopus Project - Hallucinsts [mp3]
There’s this feeling like birth riding on these rails, emerging into thin air reflected in the window the sky and the clouds towering high above the columns upon endless rising tombstones stuck from the ground deceiving the faint glimmer of sight observing more closely now the writing on the walls for certain they are tombstones telling tales of tubular travel into the outer boroughs borrowing books for bucks, three dollars for a clunker without wheels left walking these streets up and down looking up and down at everything so tall and handsome hanging from the trees trying to perceive the difference between deli between cafe between butchery baiting with smell around the corner finding the intersection unlikely yet here it is so far from the center, a monolithic presence from Roman times descending into the stairwells again before broken glass a shining temple of knowledge below the forefront, ahead of the foreground for running and for talking but be careful what you say to complete strangers on the subway seeking anonymous encounters is an unusual array of the usual suspects drifting with blank stares staring only at the floor below their feet for resting their tired toes from daring to engage one another in a mutual game of crescendo cresting into the atmosphere again seeking past amassed bodies by the millions climbing stairs like sterling stallions assembled with no other purpose in mind but to stamp the earth for eternity stomping with designer shoes constructed for the express purpose of standing expressions beside a man in a peacoat smelling of teenage drama darting, the nubile senses alight before our eyes in volcanic eruptions interrupted installations left half-hung from the banisters bolted studly just so and say you’ll swing lightly just so and say we’ll go into the night just so walking arm in arm through the central repository, a maze of wonder with green fires blazing beyond the piercing needles hanging from the stars twinkling as if it had always belonged exactly as our breath exhales the soggy fashions of our lies let out to play and mingle, mighty fine evening for a stroll she says, “We drove right through this neighborhood and we were lost,” and it’s agreed instead into a loft and then another after another stealing whiskey for Wednesdays and sharing cocaine on Saturdays but anything for a dollar, anything for another with my love of this life lounging and lingering another moment too long in the halls of majestic literature another second squandered and squared away for another time when we find ourselves again by bus or by train in the throes of titanic proportions throughout the wandering Slavic drip dosing once more for the road my dark haired lady of the fright feeling forever we might have found a reason to keep on living like fools found another nugget of gold in the bottom of the pan but can you blame such wondrous souls so young in life leaving behind every last moment that passes forgotten until reassembled in a catatonic chaos like words we will say to each other over and over and over the end.
The Octopus Project is a rhythm and blues band from Austin. The featured song is from the album Hexadecagon. Purchase the music at Amazon | Insound | eMusic.
