Eve

Eve

There is Always a Beginning

There is always a beginning, Destiny’s shadow washes out the origins host, History’s mileage makes a mockery of beauty’s guess, Every world falls asleep to dream up a moon, And for every sigh she implies the religion of sex, A calculated tease and a answer that ends in a question mark, There is always a beginning, Un-judged waiting and impotent.

There is always a beginning, And the theory of her configuration draws blood, The semen of science floods her vacancy’s drive, The tattoo of an empire; the strumpet of a shadow, This mystery conceived in the bowels of her temple, Inflamed by some god who claims and cries never, There is always a beginning, Dressed in a map or mapped in the nude.

May 99

Eve 1

A garden of noise built from her waste, A meal for the market of synchronized taste, Hear the silent sex of a high-heeled-hertz, The way the new born buyers apathy flirts, Retro-morals lead to the soul of the seed, And the gospel of doubt will do the deed, Hereditary graves await her grace, Makeup for the mystery of her see thru face, There is a go from the dead end of every direction, A race for the fake orgasm of her affection, Imagination is the flavor of her lips, Quotable policy and desperate hips, A believer in the circuit-church of the fuse, A turnkey system for an automated muse, Love is a placebo given to the poor, Truth is a cathedral without a door.

She moves within the matrix, She will become your dominatrix, The parameters of her passion, Will dictate the schism's fashion, A riot whispered; incognito, The ambiguous ache of a libido, The poison that hosts the cancer’s cure, How to cleanse yourself to make your fossil's pure.

Her body a boneless shadow, Day dreaming in real time, Hijacked Heaven on the wings of money, Burning questions fueled by libraries, Innocent actor; stubborn tragedy, Junkies of need find the luxury tolerance, And pay the difference in stillborn worlds, Connection feeds the pilot's sky.

May 99

Eve 2

Eve; get on your hands and knees and destroy me, I breath the brick wall between us with bated doubt, You’re my nothing wrapped in envy’s over-ripe rose, I dredge my way thru the swamp of your mansion and you're never home, I wanna spill the eternity of you on the canvas of my blank check, Manifest the sex in you to the place of time in me.

(I)Mapped her digestive tract thru the city of her noise, Inverted her perfumed past to a shotgun wedding poise, The electrons of her cliched being; like a halo made of flies, Baptism of the sequenced code; before another big bang sighs.

As I penetrate her and then feel the rush of evil in me spill seed in her; I am absolved for another eve.

May 99

White Horse

A salesman riding on the devil's back, Opens a black canvas bag full of little dolls of me, I tell him I don’t want to buy one and he pulls a gun, And says you can't buy them they're free, When I look up again I’m not where I thought I was, I look down at my feet and my shoes look like coffins, Then I panic because I can't remember what money sounds like, Then a sudden rain and the meaning softens.

There is some kind of electronic hum in my ear, The echo of an alarm clock; now is a place, Events try to sell you the rumor of time, Memory is deified; a b-movie version of grace, I snap out of my reverie and pick up one of the little dolls, It is wearing a black tee shirt that has a white horse on it, Which is kind of strange because I’m wearing a white Jockey tee shirt, You can't even but these things they’re free; but I don’t even want it.

May 99

Eve 3

I fell off the deep end of her prophecy into a sleepless region of the night, There was a woman there ironing a shirt; topless; and some kind of bird flying a kite, I paced up and down for a while then got my hand caught in the machine of her touch, She squeezed a drop of blood from her lips and said “everything matters; but not much”, She said “we are here; the correct definition of infinity is yesterday”, The weather responded for me; it started to rain moons in May, She asked “ do you like the hum of my machine or do you prefer silent factory's snake?", When I accused her of the name Eve; she asked why I felt I had to name my mistake.

It will happen like a life time, Slow and easy soft and dream like.

I am the voice that broadcasts the zenith of your language, You will become the dust your dreams were made of, And the essential part of the nothingness will randomize your will into wishes and regrets, And then I will come like an epic and lay you in my lap as you orbit my hunger.

April 99

Eve 4

Control; control; control that’s what I need, I don’t want to be the bones on the plate of this evil deed, I swallowed the placebo of her history, To the effect of a false cure for her mystery.

Chronicle of catastrophe fixed, Planet's fade; big bang fist.

Rigor mortis fantasy of gods and props, Sequence of event zero where tomorrow stops, I squeeze the gel of her soul till it solidifies, Take the milk of her blood to the alter to homogenize.

Perpetual past-translation-build, Software bug in the bounty of the future's yield.

There she stands next to my meaning, Like an angel that can only fly backwards, The prodigal son and this custom weaning, A whisper found in the city of lost words, A relic among the reality dig, She gives the comfort of the naked blush, I rape the bride of the universe rig, And I float on the wine filtered from the crush.

She’s like a wound I pick just to know I exist, The broken-orbit vastness of a goodbye kiss, A spiritual manifestation of the hopeless physical hemisphere, A way of touching what is always and only near.

May 99

Eve 5

She was landscape-language; a painter's witch to burn, A burden of the shapelessness that you have to earn, Dreaming hardcore medicine she makes the devil’s bed, Takes the wish of what you would and leaves what you are instead, Pushing skies of plunder; Adam’s safety net, The apple like a cannonball finds its target met, She leaves no reasons wounded; supplies the dreaming dead, The burning bush of her body; the apocalypse of her head.

Undulating atoms; the apprentice of the blame, The moon of her demeanor and the desperate need for flame, Every moment is created in the apathy of her womb, The seed of your success and the harvest of your doom.


June 99

Free Flow

Lost specifically in the arbitrary fatigue and rush of gravity, She was already pregnant when she laid for me, And the sex was just a gravedigger's fantasy.

Standing in the river the current breaks around the story of my flesh, The easy evil of letting go, And becoming the artist of the flow.

Desperate minions of the deed, Inertial hunger atrophy, Meaning surveyed; prime time pimp, Consumer fraud's ecstatic limp, The lanes a clearly painted ride, The petty price of the other side, It’s the belief that gives these gods their glow, Puts the sweat of the clouds into the flow.

I map her erogenous zones based on incidental sense, She forecast the spread of her thighs when my tools are tense, She leans close; hands quick with skill and whispers a beautiful; go, And I am a vehicle of passing; another passenger of the flow.

May 99

All

Stars shoot from the manifest mind; honeymoon on high, The leverage of the pushing root and the menu of the sky, Tangled like a dictionary; the poetry of machine, The night renders excuse for what the meaning has to mean, Burning angels hit the ground in the violence of the flame, Deathbed lyric in geometric tongue give the all a name, The horizon of the color takes a nickel from the way, The grinding metal gears of the clock behind the day, Creation credits violence; nebulas nuptial grace, Soul of sex and numbers filling up this space, Radiation hunger; the mass of silence thrives, The broken bones of Eden when the innocence arrives, Diabolical molecules; helix of temptation, Ipso facto flesh; code of all sensation, Images find shape in the brain of the manifest mind, Except for the shadow build the light left undefined.

Braced against the heartbeat-bone real shape runs the doubt, Between the is; was and will in the ever kill without, Organic textures feed the friction of the landscape void, Flight eludes the wing when the weather is annoyed, Oceans of extraneous essence crowd the matter's weave, Simulated anatomy with its process of to believe, Inanimate motives address the protege of light, Particle dreams are born in the nucleus of the night, Transubstantiation; the energy for the blood, Petal perfect limbs belie the chaos of the bud, Vision stalks the mystery’s map for the matrix of the why, The void; supporting vault for the integrity of the sky, Art finds color in the wavering woe; celebrating gods and falls, Lost in deeper context calling the spectrum of the laws, Pregnant with the truth she breeds the unborn meaning, And the cradle of the grave is all upon this weaning.

June 99

Eve 6

She’ll split you like the unknown atom, And leave you to build your own bomb, She’ll make all your birth starved memories, Available only in ROM, Her map littered with ghost town Eden's, A perfect lover is conceived, By a love-sick-hologram-whore, And a lie that is believed.

Her eyes swimming into darkness, The horizon is her holy grail, And you're just the playwright's understudy, Your fiction just tells her tale, Carried by the tease of the future, The needless now just the curse of her sigh, Just the foreplay for the sex of tomorrows, The place she meets you when you die.

June 99

Barely Breathing

A nothingness made palpable by the rake of gravity’s grind, A hopelessness manifested by that excuse you could never find, Standing close enough to the edge to feel the flight, An infinity of suns in a sky of night, The pomp of absurdity struts like a rap star down the street, Am I the only one fool enough to be a bone in this piece of meat, Other beings are paying attention to things that I just can't get to come into focus, And all the reasons they have for living make the sense of hocus-pocus, All I’ve ever wanted was to trust the horse with all of my weight, And to feel like I can fit into the mold of my fate, The burden of Atlas is not the weight of the world but the strength of his back, The will can shatter and dissolve before the way will crack, You lose the ability to care about anything but the ache of the orbit, The flesh of my lover's body is the only thing that doesn’t seem morbid, You feel eternally suspended on the eve of the end, Tense and waiting for the snap of the rod as you fondle the bend.

Barely breathing is just a way of going thru the motions of some life, Feeling like you want to consummate the bride to be and go ahead and make her your wife, But of the winter-harvest and the foreign body spring, I have stared into the trap of the light and I saw: Everything.

April 99


Released 13 July 1999 All Songs Composed, Performed and Recorded by M.M.