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lyrics

Meadows glean chided braveries in their smiling rook caution sipping ether in their tea,
Temperate hedges the sidelines of corporate philanthropy emitting a visceral cry of slaughtered heartache that sweats your guilt onto the linen.
Passwords flinging my ripped brain matter onto the point of pointlessness jab into reality with a Brompton Cocktail please,
The scanner doodles ape words onto the sky of November withering with glee at the hirsute clouds of it all as we filter the earth,
The tock tock of unsynchronised clocks mocks the nightly weather reporters’ patterns of meaningless,
Fur lined faux temptation rustles the chill of jigsawed teeth at the entrance of the metallic cave,
Bubbles taunt the static heads of wax coated eels hot spitting hiss flared incantations from diluted sun,
Molten teeth drip magma smiles into moth eyed hollows,
Tethered rain forces its sadness into the guffawing mouths of courtesans and oafs,
Eyelids froth the bile of yesterday’s tears into the metal lungs of remorseful dogs,
And so the darkness blinds the overhang of fleecy meadows that float through the tripesque skies of dappled withering.
Chlorine cackle follows starfruit metamorphosis,
The tarmac face mask of old cannot hide the laughter of winter whistling through panes like coiled spent automatic toys,
Snow prompts ringside cold princess into feral games of sadistic stage psychokinesis,
The wings of hope splutter dry their nuclear dream mistaken for snow bringing shadows to Japanese pavements,
When they opened up his heart they found it was full of urine.

Feathered dogs breathe velour into their masters’ pulmonary ephemera transplanting eyes into the sockets of a blind doll,
The nuthatch winks at the one eyed half moon its mimic re-boot stirring the hedgelings to the rain of their forefather’s ire; no-one hears,
Canal mouth of a lake of wires,
Tentacles of daylight retracting into space,
Dusty crash of a voice sensor strobe,
Fat neon words like modelled balloons advertise has-beens, clowns, sex-shops, and distorted strip tease in the deep lake of a hall of mirrors,
The dearth of woodwind finds ribboned heartache dribbling down the walls of blue crystal hotels in Siberia,
Bomb a sky of clouds for a single drop, swallow at source your smile and walk away,
Red lips for eyes cry holes full of laughter into the rotting eyes, ears, hair and mink coats of the skin and bone rich bitch old ladies of The Ritz.
Devilish thoughts proclaim the spire of night as fingernails sail the sky in a flotilla of new moons traversing the witching hour sea with their venomous cargo,
A starburst revolt of bilious dreams and ego roasted spittle eroding hard leather of annoyed, brave face hears crop sprayed crazy pave sound wave from frozen fog cotton mouth,
Crow beaked horses gallop through a forest of cocks.

Lyrics mostly by Helên Thomas with additional killer lines from Owen J.

credits

from Why Can't You Write Something Nice For A Change?, released February 14, 2013

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about

Tingle In The Netherlands Manchester, UK

Electro-pop collaboration between poet Helên Thomas & electronic musician Owen J based in Manchester UK.

Others have likened our sound to bands such as Kraftwerk, Ladytron, Chris & Cosey, Severed Heads, Soft Cell, Human League & Vince Clarke.
Although we have performed at Ste McCabe’s 'Pussywhipped' in Manchester, we consider ourselves to be a studio band & do not have any plans to perform live.
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