The Kraken

by Autumn Rising

The Kraken Cover Art
  00:00 / 00:00
1.
03:46
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2.
02:48
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3.
02:08
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4.
03:21
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5.
03:37
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credits

released 01 January 1997
Robert Steven Billups - guitar, voice
Jerry Dirr- drums
Stephen Howard- bass
recorded by Gerald Menke in a basement.

tags

tags: art rock indie math rock rock Cincinnati

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All rights reserved

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Track Name: Jack The Ripper
I watch the joyless river flow, backwards.
Again and again, replay it -
the critical instant I became an unwanted pet.
I'm not Jack the Ripper,
how do I warrant shudders?
Since when were words flamethrowers? earthshakers?

Purple sunlight sprawling amonst our skipping stones
courage was drawing, it swelled to overflow
and spill a question just like a pebble cast.
There was a ripple where the should be a splash.
Surrounding, like stretching giants, the trees were never so tall.

It wasn't Jack the Ripper you refused there by the river.
I let the hate evaporate
and amputate the truth from the mythology.
Preserved inside formaldehyde,
she hides behind a shield of wool.
Invisible, but not to Jack the Ripple.

14mar1997
Track Name: Flattering Her Horned Custodian
prick the vein of violet, just below the surface.
vacant was the bassinet, when your parents searched it.
we wait for it to cool as Beelzebub makes his rounds.
but it's taking so long.
"Will you marry me?" he said.
"Will you bear my children?"
Nothing is forgiven.
Track Name: Thanksgiving
silken lines and silver hooks
draw and quarter pleasure we took

what we once were, dogs disfigured
and friends became a nimbus blur

but we were young and monsterless,
now vampires collect their taxes on thanksgiving.
Track Name: Dead Elephant
flesh was polished ivory, secluded in black veils
swirling lace, gratuity
the minutes were for sale
movements slicken, no restrictions
in the audience, I fell
begged the devil to drag me out of there
i couldn't do it by myself
outside in the parking lot, i lay in broken glass
just like those dead elephants
crumpled in the tall grass
Track Name: Somersaults
plummet to new depths of doing nothing with a life.
i demonstrate swan dives.
a long established reign of routine rejections
and crestfallen low tides.
i release butterflies and take lonely pony rides
through uncharted countryside.
thinking,
i can't make myself believe in something more,
believe that no one else has felt like this before.
because it's all i've ever known.
while she does somersaults over me,
like gold,
saddened by what she beholds underneath.