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lyrics

God's mouth sealed back in 69 by synthetic magnetosphere.
Sublimate ammonia from asteroids.
We cleave from our pressurised containment.

Left the idiots on earth,
One more literate
idiot who's going to give
birth to more idiots.
Your house gets loud so fast.
Isn't this enough?

Everybody be quiet. I Chew-Z at Tempe Terra.
Imagine the sea from the melted cryosphere
lap the toes of all you noisy people.

I can imagine the last of the mirrors tumble from its geostation
Scattering mylar embers on children's rough and tumble,
footprints in the orange bedform
I can't believe we made it here, that we're still alive and making copies of us.

When we expire we remain; disordered.
Drift down, and down, and down...
Isn't this enough?
All the light that falls upon your face altered in its course.
So stop trying to fill your scrapbook; take a look at where you are.

credits

from A short introduction to​.​.​., released June 29, 2022

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about

Thumpermonkey London, UK

A person in space, walking, or adrift, but safe, exploring, freedom, discovery.

A clockwork piano contraption, like a giant ballerina box, but turning a big totem pole, around which smart office dressed people slowly dance with dead glazed eyes as a slightly out of tune slow Satie-like Lydian melody loops round.

White men in pith helmets hunting large animals to extinction.
... more

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