the endless sea, starts with a drum beat, enter the base line, and then that keyboard, and then the guitar all whacked out on heroin, oh baby what a place to be, in the service of the bourgeoisie, iggy sings, and it's that beautiful subtle harmony on the word endless and that hawkwind synth line, and there's some sort of perfection in this song as we move through the landscape, we see the boys with their empty looking eyes, beautiful girls staring out like vacant parking lots, and here comes captain mission....


i walked through the night in my velvet suit, looking like a heretical astronaut, i touched the skin of a dead girl suspended in silk. she had two soft eyes, burning hard liquid lips and the soul of an ocelot. when her lips touched mine they bloomed momentarily, i caught flashes of her tragedy, she had bad taste in men, not an original trajectory, i couldn't help her.
some one was playing russian roulette with two pistols, jeered on by a crowd of religious folks, fundamentalists from the wetlands. some one was reading from the bible, spitting out angry words like a baptist machine guns rapid fire.




yet she increased her prostitution, remembering the days of her youth when she engaged in prostitution in the land of Egypt. She lusted after their genitals as large as those of donkeys, and their seminal emission was as strong as that of stallions - Ezekiel 23:19-20



while another group played poker, cards dealt by a hooded skeleton wearing a blue oyster cult tee shirt and smoking a joint, he's got a pile of money before him and talks not unlike keith richards, in actual fact looking closer it is keef, he leans back an offers me a jack, i decline but grab the joint and walk into a kitchen where a group of supermodels are doing lines on a kitchen table. i make a sandwich, cram it with some sort of nut spread, the texture is creamy and one of the girls starts to poke her finger into the jar and lick it seductively, like some sort of porn star. it's only a matter of time before she's smearing the spread all over her body, her friends gaze on encouraging her. i leave the party and catch the night bus home. the night bus ride, into the dark suburbs, speed is the drug here as the handful of passengers travelling home look out at the void. yeah all passengers on this bus are tired and wanting to go home, we seen the outside, with it's hungers and desires, with it's desperation and tears, we got our ticket out, we just want to get home, leave this weary cage, some one at the back starts singing softly, an old song with the lines, 'all i need is providence.'