Watching the Show

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Watching the show that the Indians show me
Down the hazy plains of sunset
The process of distillation goes on
The cities of illusion are in chaos
Waiting for restoration
At the brink of holocaust

We must keep silent and dare not disturb
These precarious props of shards in strife
To build a new empire of crystal dreams ~
The hubbub to settle

Watching the show that the Indians show me
Down the hazy plains of sunset
These slow nights of darkness
Bring new adversaries
They don’t care what we wear tonight
Our armour’s fading fast

Hurled like a bullet in train, car or plane
We feel the earth no more beneath us

In the past we understood
Things no longer remembered
In the past we knew
Why the stars are there

Watching the show that the Indians show me
Down the hazy plains of sunset
The process of distillation goes on

Goes on . . .

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

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TV Creeping Song

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I’m the one who walks outside
Transparent with the tide
Where shapes and ghosts feed upon
My black and deep desires
There hangs a crystal shadow
Wrapped around a hidden fire

In the dark, disappearing
Don’t even notice me, as I roam the downs at night
My brutal wishes dispelling ~
Secret power rises where no eyes are prying
Far from creeping TV towns

Me, oh me, left out to freeze
My true love forsaken
Heart stamped with mud
Who are they? ~ I feel so sullied
Bloated on corrupted waters

They drive round looking for things
To feel disgusted with
I’m living in the future now
When they’re all gone
This thing I have become
Is a carbon copy of no one

In the dark, disappearing
Don’t even notice me, as I roam the downs at night
My brutal wishes dispelling ~
Secret power rises where no eyes are prying
Far from creeping TV towns

No one will fight for me
No one knows who I am
I’ll scream like an animal
I will spite the numbing pain
I’ll start it up again

Night time on the Downs
Far from creeping TV towns
I will never surrender to these cold grey ghosts
Slithering beneath their stone
The shame hides itself onscreen
Sucking holes in the human soul

In the dark, disappearing
Don’t even notice me, as I roam the downs at night
My brutal wishes dispelling ~
Secret power rises where no eyes are prying
Far from creeping TV towns

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

The Time of Great Waste

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So the wreckers are going to Mars
To drive around and suck things up
Trading in green trees and grass
For a hell of red dust
There’s nothing on Mars for us
The Time of Great Waste is upon us

In sealed-up tins they can never leave
They try to bodge a world from scratch
Their skins will wither and bleach
On a bare planet of rust
There’s nothing on Mars for us
The Time of Great Waste is upon us

I’m not tired of living here
It’s great to breathe — free air
I don’t want to live in a bubble
Too blind to mind my own mess

I’m not an empty vacuum
I won’t trade — the trees
For a land without sea
There’s nothing on Mars for me
But a Morlock factory

With the DNA of paradise
Trailing like cigar ash
The Time of Great Waste is upon us

So the wreckers are going to Mars
To drive around and suck things up
Trading in green trees and grass
For a hell of red dust
There’s nothing on Mars for us
The Time of Great Waste is upon us
And it must pass

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

I is an Other

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Your spinning dance is delirious
I won’t ask you why the circles
Why d’they keep on turning us, love?
They won’t let us fake a twirl
As one hoops down upon another
It meets and merges us . . .

Organic dancefloor whereupon we go

I ain’t here, you ain’t here
We’re just watching, it’s amazing
Down to earth and we’re up phasing
I is an Other, you are me
Don’t forget what we see
We’re going to be free

It’s been death to “The End” all along
But now Aurora is effervescing
There’s a road to go dancing for
With symphonic threads a-twirling
The long march to freedom
Even in our unpaid ballroom

I ain’t here, you ain’t here
We’re just watching, it’s amazing
Down to earth and we’re up phasing
I is an Other, you are me
Don’t forget what we see
We’re going to be free

Baby, I love to see you dance in the afternoon
Let’s get close up inside your womb
Buzzing bodies melting, melting
. . . Far out . . .

When the night is humming, and no one’s coming
I’ll wait for you in your room
Beneath a steel-ice moon of blue

Your spinning dance is delirious
I won’t ask you why the circles
Why d’they keep on turning us, love?
They won’t let us fake a twirl
As one hoops down upon another
It meets and merges us . . .

Organic dancefloor whereupon we go

I ain’t here, you ain’t here
We’re just watching, it’s amazing
Down to earth and we’re up phasing
I is an Other, you are me
Don’t forget what we see
We’re going to be free

When the night is humming, and no one’s coming
I’ll wait for you in your room
Beneath a steel-ice moon of blue

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

Connected to Remote Sunrise

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I’m tripping and know I don’t need it
People do nothing but limp it
You’ve got the same old slave grin
You lost your roaring wave in

We found out night in perfect silence
Drowned in rapids of indulgence
The punch of time now streaming
Will betray our bad dreaming

The comet trickles to oblivion
Hung up with menacing precision
The sea is gleaming quicksilver
Mighty with meaning that shivers

Warlike sparks of obscurity
Skies dim with satellites . . .
Shall we never be
Rapt in mystery?

In response to our host’s message
Which the living stars encourage
Eyes meet in the evening light
Scanning harmonies out of sight

People of skittles lose their fear
Find out why they really are here:
Time is made up of flowing eyes
Connected to remote sunrise . . .

May they find their freedom and soul
Endless reaching for a goal
The Child in the wasteland ~ all alone
The Child within that smiles alone

The child who will live behind the wild curtain

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

Whiteladies Road

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I hate the sound of the mob this time of year

The black evenings and yahoo smells
Get up my mortal nose
I won’t go where others go
On Whiteladies Road

This street, up the old hill
Is seething with new beauties and thugs
With dusk they begin to cluck
Spending their beginner’s luck

They wear the frayed jeans of street kids
But can’t match their swagger
I walk with no comrades
But hunger

Here come some dressed as Caesars
I cross my eyes to confront the show
Embrace the difference out on my own
On Whiteladies Road

Who is worth less than everyone else?

All the young dudes, drowning in debts
They think I’m sad ~ I think they’re sad
Bailed out by parents, they throw up their chips
Trample front gardens and tear off dustbin lids

If it’s possible for us all to live like these flibbertigibbets
If this is the way we breed or say hello
Come join the banquet
On Whiteladies Road

Girl on her back by the traffic lights
Kicks her legs out ~ trying to rise
‘Give the dog a bone!’ some wag shouts
Then trots to his mates with some traffic cones

They won’t make me meaningless as I walk home
Up Whiteladies Road

Up Whiteladies Road
Whiteladies Road

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

Twitch Doctor

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I’ll be your twitch doctor
dull as an ache
The realms you attempt to raise
are silent now
They don’t make a stitch
in my rusty frame

I’ve timed the size of my disguise
and look back on
La la la la la, oh yea-a-h
with wondrous eyes

Like an old basket case
that twinkles in space
An over-riding boredom
sticks my crate in the glue
Stifling every moment
that it wastes with you

You don’t know how it feels
universe of nothing made real
Watch rivers unwind in slime
I’m fed up with your mind

I’ve timed the size of my disguise
and look back on
La la la la la, oh yea-a-h
with wondrous eyes

Will anything ever get done
following the sun?
Does anyone still care
with sunglasses in their hair?
When nothing is freely given
you tie yourself in ribbons

I’ve timed the size of my disguise
and look back on
La la la la la, oh yea-a-h
with wondrous eyes

“Do not reject the hero in your soul …
Keep holy your highest hope!”   [Nietzsche]

 

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© 2016 Pete Gioconda & Three Face Music

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