Lyrics & Music: Clover Lunamarie Gish
© 1998 SconeFarm (ASCAP)
The Living hunger for the sweet release of Death.
But the Dead know that the Void is a place bereft
of all that made them whole.
The sweet release from desire and want and need
is itself a fallacy.
fades away with intangibility.
drain away into obscurity.
The life-state of slavery to temptation is rendered inane
when compared to the cravings of those who’ve gone beyond the grave.
Life muddies and besmirches the purity of the soul.
Its trials and tribulations take their bitter toll.
But the empty caress of post-death Nothingness
is a far worse state of ruination and unrest.
Hungering for the security of the flesh.
Divorced from the corporeal-clogged form.
Disembodied discombobulation. Ripped and torn.
When the shackles of life are cast away
a divarication of sardonic fates await:
Eternally encircled by malevolent black-eyed seraphim.
Violently torn asunder by serpentiform entities.
Or condemned to roam this accursed world as revenants.
You’re screwed by your Gets but you’re fucked by your Wants.
Another cheerful death-obsessed ditty from Chelsea and Millie’s mother Clover’s old band Miss Machine.
Yeeeeaaah, I’ve noticed that now that I’ve finished writing/drawing AotE and am spending vast chunks of my time on Chelsea & Millie (a comic that doesn’t gleefully dance into the dark heart of viciousness like AotE sometimes did) the darker aspects of my creative drive appear to be manifesting themselves within the Miss Machine lyrics.
I can live with that.
Musically, I imagine this tune to have a similar sort of vibe to this anti-Capitalistic diatribe in song form.
All lyrics IRL © bitter little me, myself, and I.