WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE Butterflies Slipping through a Neoprene Net (AHA) WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE Laying Caterpillar Eggs on a Spooling Casette (AHA) WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE Harold Lloyd was Often Quoted as Saying (AHA) WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE Chronology Played a Part in the Royal Slaying (AHA) now in shadowlands, the very thought corrodes my hands, by the time I got 6 feet up that ladder lost 12 gallons from my bladder, in shadowlands, in shadowlands. WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE Strange Word: "Auto-erotic Asphyxiate" WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE But it Seems to Me it's Not Just Time which Dilates WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE Mr. Heaney Taught me Something 'bout the Meaning of Fate WALTZ IN BRINE, WALTZ IN BRINE When I learned Blackberries do Indeed have an Expiry Date now in shadowlands, the very thought corrodes my hands, by the time I got 6 feet up that ladder lost 12 gallons from my bladder, in shadowlands, in shadowlands. (Humans are Fickle) (They Prefer Their Seconds Pickled) (And Would Jump Through any Black Magic Portal) (If They thought it Would Make them Immortal) (But I'm Just Fine) (With that WALTZ IN BRINE) WITH JUST ONE FATAL RIP (get a grip) THEY TEAR THAT MöBIUS STRIP (get a grip) WITH JUST ONE FATAL RIP (get a grip) THEY TEAR THAT MöBIUS STRIP

Night in the woods, canine swallowed by fog, man goes into the trees, finds the left brow of god. (DOG PANTING) Night in the woods, late christmas eve, torches hunt sowing experiments, whilst the undergrowth has grown teeth. (DOG PANTING) Night in the woods, conversation is as follows: "Hey is it Your Dog we are Looking For?" "No." (DOG PANTING) Night in the woods, pinetrees snuff the hours, the turkey is currently defrosting, whilst Christ is erased by meteor showers. (DOG PANTING) Night in the woods, the chemtrails needle my breath, this evening has affected my mood, there's only 8 more seconds of Christmas eve left. (And we count) 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8... Dogs Alone, Shouting "Here Girl", Shouting "Here Girl", No Howls No Moans, I was Fearful, The Dark Looked Evil. Dogs Alone, Shouting "Here Girl", Shouting "Here Girl", No Howls No Moans, I was Fearful, The Dark Looked Evil. "Alas that Retriever went missing and me and my paw we couldn't just sit there and do nothing. So off we went with our guide, the Lubo, and all the bravery clinging to the bottom of an empty tin of Tennents. We must have spent a Good 2 Hours Wandering them blackened forests, Tilting our Minds at Pinecones, Watching shadows morph to pagan gods and back, all to reclaim that which was lost. Halloween came and went as we avoided Electrical field barriers and tried not to disturb ancient animal burial grounds, hoping to catch the jangle of that auld rusted chain. And yet despite all our best efforts, all we came away with was the tarmac of sweaty gravy biscuits encrusted to the palms of our hands. and sometimes I go out at night and still wonder is she out there or is she somewhere else entirely?" 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8... Dogs Alone, Shouting "Here Girl", Shouting "Here Girl", No Howls No Moans, I was Fearful, The Dark Looked Evil. Dogs Alone, Shouting "Here Girl", Shouting "Here Girl", No Howls No Moans, I was Fearful, The Dark Looked Evil.

There have been Rumours, Plenty of False Rumours, Lies Growing like Fattened Tumours. Townsfolk Metamorphosize into Court Jurors/Car Insurers, Crocodiles Rise from Toilet Sewers. But Raised by Wolves, Yes I was, Raised by Wolves, Let that Legend Burn on, Cause I was Raised by Wolves. I heard this One Time, The Noose would not Hang for any Crimes, Now all of the Inmates Walk around with Stammers, Gone old and so Grey, Memories come back in the Autumn Rain, Still every Drop Hits like a Hammer. But Raised by Wolves, Yes I was, Raised by Wolves, Let that Legend Burn on, Cause I was Raised by Wolves. Out Came Out Dribbled Words, the Sheep of Sleep now Come in Thirds, File under: Enigma, File Under: No Answer, Much is now Collapsing- My Lungs, the Ground and Past Actions, with Scars on my Temples, the lambs are all Laughing. (hahaha) But Raised by Wolves, Yes I was, Raised by Wolves, Let the Legends Be Gone, for I was Raised by Wolves.

The Wilderness could Cling to You Like John Muir's Aborted Fetus, And Granite does Nothing to Console now my Senses ain't the Keenest. What was Once a Cement Quarry has become a Toxic Crater, Fill it Up with Milk and Urine and Come back 9 Months Later. WELL IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE BLEAKEST WINTER THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN, SEAWEED, MOSS AND ISOTOPES CONFORM TO RED RAW CLEAN. SURELY THE ONLY LOGICAL RESPONSE TO..... the call of Torness, the call of Torness. The Holidaymakers all go Home but their Silhouettes are still in the Sands, Burned into the Pavement Cracks where the Waltzers meet the Wasteland. WELL IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE BLEAKEST WINTER THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN, SEAWEED, MOSS AND ISOTOPES CONFORM TO RED RAW CLEAN. SURELY THE ONLY LOGICAL RESPONSE TO..... the call of Torness, the call of Torness. The Sands were Shifted Long ago one August Afternoon, The Caravan Sites and Disco Lights Vanished all too Soon, Now no one can hold their Drinks past 10 and Everyone has got Dentures, The Calcium is Sucked straight from your Bones at Uranium's Leisure. WELL IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE BLEAKEST WINTER THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN, SEAWEED, MOSS AND ISOTOPES CONFORM TO RED RAW CLEAN. SURELY THE ONLY LOGICAL RESPONSE TO..... the call of Torness, the call of Torness. I don't mean to Digress, Not trying to Impress....

Aghast. Faces Left Aghast. Teeth Sparkle with the Debris of Shotgun Blasts. You Don't Understand, I have no Hits. Play us Picnic at the Tarpits, Play us Picnic at the Tarpit. Since I was 12 been Courting Disaster. Confusion 'tween Frank Capra and Franz Kafka. There is No Problem in Calling it Quits. Prepare the Picnic at the Tarpits, The Picnic at the Tarpits. People like Spiders are Drawn to Struggling. But the Holes in the Webs are Occupied by Nothing. Passed down by Rodents in the Blitz. The Rats Phleghmed Out "Picnic at the Tarpits", The Picnic at the Tarpit. For 10 Years been Trying to Eat a Thesaurus. But I'm No Closer to Consoling a Stegosaurus. (she can't hear me where she sits) Life ain't no Picnic at the Bottom of the Tarpits. An Unconscious Mind Produces Dreams. But My Brain treads Plaster and Glass Wool not Solid Beams. Left Twitching in Epileptic Fits. A Side Effect of the Picnic at the Tarpits, The Picnic at the Tarpit. Cigarettes look just like Lit Flowers, The Hippy Dream Burns up and Peace Turns Sour. You're Breathing in the Businessman's Black Tricks. Your Lungs have been Rendered... The Dampest Tarpits. But that all seems swell to me, I'd treat the scars and wrinkles as trophies. Seems i'm living at Wit's End, time has become quite hard to comprehend. But vampires find comfort in caskets so i'll make do with this tarpit. (Preferring to occupy Paper thin Walls, Remember me as Yellow Teeth and Red Eyeballs, Strange Visions make something Vanish, I Fear I may have Left Something back at the TARPIT).