“E have no identity, E am infinite, E will return to thee eternally forgotten objects, E become a cosmonaut, my body is my spacesuit, thee world is my spaceship, nothingness is my home” –Attila Grandpierre

Sick Cordelia

Well sick Cordelia’s a girl that E know, she used to drop a trip wherever she would go, she saw pollution in thee world as she polluted her mind but wherever she went she used to have a good time, she saw triangles evaporate in time to thee beat, whenever she heard music that girl would move her feet, she turned on to thee tuning she wound up in a rut but thee knowledge she had gained it was a real mind fuck, she’s so groovy, groovy, groovy, so groovy, groovy, groovy, she went to see thee Bykers and they really warped her brain, she knew that through her eyes things didn’t seem thee same, she changed her life completely to combat ecstasy, she found her soul and changed her goal to take more LSD, thee moral ov thee story is simply to exist, don’t kill yourself with alcohol or open up your wrists, there’s a whole new world awaiting and it’s just a trip away, you’ll know much more an open mind can change your life today, she’s so groovy, groovy, groovy, so groovy, groovy, groovy. (1989)

Lucy’s children

Lucy’s children are thee wisest on earth, they know thee general public is a body accursed, they will plan thee revolution, they will ban thee bomb they will defeat thee common enemy by singing his song, their heads are blown apart but their life is together they seek to find a peace ov mind that could last forever, they’ve been there, seen it, done it like you’ve never imagined, they’re thee epitome ov pleasure an ultimate reaction, Lucy’s children are at one with thee world, thee children ov Lucy a kaleidoscopic pearl, Lucy’s children have so much more to give, thee children ov Lucy, flower child ov acid, Lucy’s children like to groove in thee warm summer mist, they know when to go to sleep and they know then to exist, they long for a world where all acid is free then we’ll all get high together sounds like heaven to me, thee flower child ov acid, thee flower child ov acid, thee flower child ov acid, change your mind like E did. To complement thee second great acid revolution, lucid in my mind it heightens. (1990)

Own road

E watch you on my television, E watch you making my decisions, community competence you dare to say, your bigotry oppression E don’t need today, it’s thee winter but you don’t know cold, it’s thee winter ov your hell control, don’t tell me what E should think, you don’t know me you don’t know what E think, but E know you wouldn’t think much ov my thoughts because E care for unity and opening doors, and that’s thee last thing that you need, as you tell me E shouldn’t bite thee hands that feed, but you don’t feed how could you care? Between power and money you don’t see my stare, and as you make decisions on my television, E make my decisions in my head, E make my decisions in my home, E make my decisions in blood red, E make my decisions on my own, E watch you on my television, E watch
you making my decisions, you give me two roads to follow but E follow my own road. (20/11/91)



All and all

Thee injustice ov sanity, a creative force subdued, an intense form ov danger, a depression ov my states, control with your ignorance is killing all and all, don’t you care about anyone? Don’t you care about me? It’s so obvious you couldn’t cause you don’t want to be free, because you don’t know how and you don’t know why, you kid yourself you’re unique, when you’re nothing but nothing, you could be anything but you take what there is, and there’s no-one you wont step on to keep your security, a falsehood, killing millions, you’re unbeknown suicide, are you stupid? Are you sightless? Yes you’re ignorant and blind, and E want to show, to teach you for E care for all and all but no-one ever sees me and no-one hears my call, when am dead through my frustration, will you think ov me strange, or wise or young or foolish, or will you know my rage? Just turn thee page, all and all. (1990)

Probably

Why is it every night E wake, E wake, E wake, E wake, E wake up, E wake up, wake
Up screaming? And every morning swears E bleeding? It’s this hell world that’s been created by our forefathers, nothing is free, nothing is pure, no-one is beautiful except for thee elite, those that have seen, where everyone respects and feels equal to everyone else, amongst thee heads! To save this world a plan must be forged, LSD in thee water supply? An interesting idea, one day when everyone is tripping people couldn’t drive, couldn’t fight, couldn’t make money, but people could see, see thee beautiful people for what they are, hijack thee radio stations and thee TV networks, play them beautiful, beautiful sounds ov rebellion, oh no E think E turning into a dictator, but you never know it may work, most ov thee heads E know want peace and freedom, couldn’t it change peoples lives, couldn’t it turn around all prophecies ov thee past and save us all from thee eternal fires ov damnation? Probably not. (22/05/90)

“How odd it is that writers may sing thee praises ov alcohol (which is responsible for about two- thirds ov thee car accidents and three-quarters ov thee crimes ov violence) and be regarded as good Christians and noble fellows, where as anyone who ventures to suggest that there may be other and less harmful short cuts to self transcendence is treated as a dangerous drug fiend and wicked perverter ov weak- minded humanity” –Aldous Huxley