Limited Edition CD in Hand-printed Gatefold Sleeve
Compact Disc (CD)
The gatefold sleeves are hand cut, glued, and folded from recycled card stock, which contains embedded flecks of banana skins (left over from feeding animals in a UK animal park). Each sleeve is hand printed in black ink. No two are exactly alike. A hilarious eight-page hand-made lyrics booklet/instruction manual and photo strips are enclosed. Numbered limited edition of 50 copies.
Also includes immediate download of 7 track album in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire, plus a bonus nine-page PDF booklet containing full lyrics and high-resolution photographs.
On ruined morning: apocalypse kitchen.
Open the window—let the sounds of disaster in.
Telephone ringing: little alarm bells
Flaking the paint off. Colours slow down the spin.
And the jackhammer raindrops,
The crushing of clanging,
The shouting, it stills your tongue.
And then you remember,
The point, it has left you—
You cannot feel where it stung.
On ruined morning: pretentious collisions.
Cast iron railing measures angle grinder time.
Rude hesitations, arguing hard hats—
Convention of rubble: punishment defines the crime.
And clamorous boltings,
The sun-launched asphalt steam—
A cyclic upheaval,
A bulldozer nightmare,
But this is not a dream.
On ruined morning: the vertical highway
Terrifies no one, for the sky is far from here.
The satellite photo, the thing you don't mention,
Peculiar direction—it is not to do with fear.
I wish you good luck—
See the quiver of arrows,
One of the points has your name.
A feedback collection,
A speaker excursion,
A cruel and deadly game.
On ruined morning: you recognise someone.
(All the faces look the same.)