I'm Sinking In The Quicksand Of My Thought

[Ornery]

Getting ready for my son's 13th birthday party, I decided to throw an old album on the stereo while we toiled. The one I grabbed is a real old favorite: Hunky Dory by Bowie 1971

Absolutely delicious! Nobody writes like that anymore...

Quicksand

• I'm closer to the Golden Dawn
  Immersed in Crowley's uniform
  Of imagery
  I'm living in a silent film
  Portraying Himmler's sacred realm
  Of dream reality
  I'm frightened by the total goal
  Drawing to the ragged hole
  And I ain't got the power anymore
  No I ain't got the power anymore
  
  I'm the twisted name on Garbo's eyes
  Living proof of Churchill's lies
  I'm destiny
  I'm torn between the light and dark
  Where others see their targets
  Divine symmetry
  Should I kiss the viper's fang
  Or herald loud the death of Man
  I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thought
  And I ain't got the power anymore
  
  Don't believe in yourself
  Don't deceive with belief
  Knowledge comes with death's release
  
  I'm not a prophet or a stone age man
  Just a mortal with the potential of a superman
  I'm living on
  I'm tethered to the logic of Homo Sapien
  Can't take my eyes from the great salvation
  Of bullshit faith
  If I don't explain what you ought to know
  You can tell me all about it
  On the next Bardo
  I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thought
  And I ain't got the power anymore
  
  Don't believe in yourself
  Don't deceive with belief
  Knowledge comes with death's release

 

[StageLeft]

By album do you mean "record"?

 

[Ornery]

I've got the CD now. It's playing on the HT system and sounds fantastic. I've also owned it twice on vinyl, and once on 8 track.

 

[SackOfAllTrades]

anal bum cover?

 

[AlienCraft]

Originally posted by: Skoorb
By album do you mean "record"?

You know, vinyl LP, a flat disk with analog , microscopic grooves which caused a piezo electric signal in an arm which DRAGGED across the surface and reproduced sounds with amzing sonic depth and clarity, as well as the occasional pop click scratch and static????

 

[StageLeft]

Originally posted by: AlienCraft

Originally posted by: Skoorb
By album do you mean "record"?

You know, vinyl LP, a flat disk with analog , microscopic grooves which caused a piezo electric signal in an arm which DRAGGED across the surface and reproduced sounds with amzing sonic depth and clarity, as well as the occasional pop click scratch and static????

Yep, AKA old!

 

[Ornery]

I treated my vinyl like gold. Purchased high quality, low tracking weight cartridges with a separate stylus for normal playing and recording. Not to mention a 'Discwasher' system and antistatic gun. Most albums were committed to cassette tape on the first play, and put in storage after that.

God, this sh|t is amazing!

The Bewlay Brothers

• And so the story goes they wore the clothes
  They said the things to make it seem improbable
  The whale of a lie like they hope it was
  And the Goodmen Tomorrow
  Had their feet in the wallow
  And their heads of Brawn were nicer shorn
  And how they bought their positions with saccharin and trust
  And the world was asleep to our latent fuss
  Sighing, the swirl through the streets
  Like the crust of the sun
  The Bewlay Brothers
  In our Wings that Bark
  Flashing teeth of Brass
  Standing tall in the dark
  Oh, And we were Gone
  Hanging out with your Dwarf Men
  We were so turned on
  By your lack of conclusions
  
  I was Stone and he was Wax
  So he could scream, and still relax, unbelievable
  And we frightened the small children away
  And our talk was old and dust would flow
  Thru our veins and Lo! it was midnight
  Back o' the kitchen door
  Like the grim face on the Cathedral floor
  And the solid book we wrote
  Cannot be found today
  
  And it was Stalking time for the Moonboys
  The Bewlay Brothers
  With our backs on the arch
  In the Devil-may-be-here
  But He can't sing about that
  Oh, And we were Gone
  Real Cool Traders
  We were so Turned On
  You thought we were Fakers
  
  Now the dress is hung, the ticket pawned
  The Factor Max that proved the fact
  Is melted down
  And woven on the edging of my pillow
  Now my Brother lays upon the Rocks
  He could be dead, He could be not
  He could be You
  He's Chameleon, Comedian, Corinthian and Caricature
  "Shooting-up Pie-in-the-Sky"
  The Bewlay Brothers
  In the feeble and the Bad
  The Bewlay Brothers
  In the Blessed and Cold
  In the Crutch-hungry Dark
  Was where we flayed our Mark
  Oh, and we were Gone
  Kings of Oblivion
  We were so Turned On
  In the Mind-Warp Pavilion
  
  Lay me place and bake me Pie
  I'm starving for me Gravy
  Leave my shoes, and door unlocked
  I might just slip away
  
  Just for the Day, Hey!
  Please come Away, Hey! (repeat ad inf.)

 

[cucumber]

Originally posted by: AlienCraft

Originally posted by: Skoorb
By album do you mean "record"?

You know, vinyl LP, a flat disk with analog , microscopic grooves which caused a piezo electric signal in an arm which DRAGGED across the surface and reproduced sounds with amzing sonic depth and clarity, as well as the occasional pop click scratch and static????

Aren't Record player cartridges magnetic with wire coils?

 

[DaveSimmons]

Bowie was a genius in his prime. Ziggy Stardust, Heroes, and I've always had a soft spot for Diamond Dogs:

As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent
you asked for the latest party
With your silicon hump and your ten inch stump
Dressed like a priest you was,
Todd Browning streak he was
Crawling down the alley on your hands and knee,
I'm sure you're not protected, for its plain to see
Diamond Dogs are poachers, and they hide behind trees
Hunt you to the ground they will,
mannequins with kill appeal

*chorus*
Will they come?
I keep a friend serene
Will they come?
Oh, baby, come unto me
Will they come?
Well, she's come, been, and gone
Come out of the garden, baby
You'll catch a death in the fog
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs
Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs

The Halloween Jack is a real cool cat,
and he lives on top of Manhattan Chase
The elevators broke, so he slides down a rope
onto the street below, oh Tarzie, go man, go
Meets his little hussy with his ghost-town approach
Her face is sans feature, but she wears a Dali broach
Sweetly reminiscent, something mother used to bake
Wrecked up and paralyzed, Diamond Dogs are sable-ized

*chorus*

Who-who-who
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Who-who-who
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Ahhh-whooo, ah
Ah-owwww
wuf-wuf

In the year of the scavenger, season of the bitch
Sashay on the board-walk, scurry to the ditch
Just another future song, lonely little Keats
There's gonna be sorrow, try and wake up tomorrow

*chorus*

Who-who-who
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Who-who-who
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Bow-wow, woof woof, bow-wow, wow
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Dogs
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Call them, call them
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Call them, call them, ooooo
Call them the Diamond Dogs
Keep cool
Diamond Dogs, OK
Hey-hey-hey-hey
Beware of the Diamond Dogs
Beware of the Diamond Dogs
Beware of the Diamond Dog
Beware of the Diamond Dog
Dog, dog, dog
Beware of the Diamond Dog

 

[Schadenfroh]

david bowie rules