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BLOODSTAINED POSTCARDS FROM THE BORDERLANDS

by Korperschwache

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2.
i can see you standing in the corner hiding in the shadows i can see you standing in the corner with your hands at your side i can see you why are you naked? where are your clothes? i can see you where are we? do you remember? i can see you standing in the corner why are you trembling? i can see you with the plastic bag over your head your eyes wide open as your body shakes trembling shaking turning blue please i want to wake up now
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begin the begin again with an act of betrayal and a visit from the angel of death then another and still again and all the while the little witch laughs and the angel of death laughs and the dead trees shake with the terrible sound free fall shattered fragments come together again in a manner that reflects all light there are holy men who say i have willed my soul to the abyss for privileged rights in the affairs of the dead i can only say that when the long night of darkness ends and the angel of death, she arrives it will be my pleasure to vacate this soulless existence with my hands around that fucking cunt’s throat
5.
i fell through a hole in the sky with the wolves at my side running for the hills and lawmen's guns close enough to take o such days enough to make one break o such days such endless days when the levee broke i woke alone twenty-one days lost in the borderlands twenty-one nights in the hills of dead trees watching the train lights come and go twenty-one long nights in the dead man's room endless days bleed together waiting for answers shattered fragments emerge badly reassembled nightmares and ghosts fill the poisoned rooms unexpected revelations only serve to prove there is no place that can be called safe
6.
can you hear it? calling to you in the dead of night can you see it? staring from the stranger in the mirror? can you deny it? the growing urge to fade into eternal darkness? the door in the dead leaves, it leads down and then there is only stone and vast, open spaces and a river, bloated with bodies cutting through darkness down here, in the fading twilight there are only shapes and shadows and voices crying out in the fog and an endless stream of bodies flowing out into the abyss
7.
the night sky, filled with stars and naked tiny limbs like ghosts lies above me, like a dark cloud with a thousand points of light waiting for the train waiting for the sound of the thundering wheels rolling on and on one fine may evening, just after midnight the porch light flickers, as the white moths burn moonlight shines through the trees hiding on the porch, wreathed in smoke in the waning hours of the night waiting for the train waiting for the sound of the thundering wheels rolling on and on one fine may evening, just after one a.m. (one fine evening, just before three a.m.) far end of the porch and buried in the trees a flash of light and a puff of smoke as the blind eye bleeds the world white and the wheels go thundering by outside the dead man's room
8.
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the first rays of a burning sun pour through the blinds they say the sun shines for everyone but it's not for me never me empty days filled with voices preaching despair and hate walking down the road barking dogs and hungry bugs morning people making the rounds don't know what to make of me most steer a wide path anyway eat my cheap tacos at the counter of an ancient grocery store stocking up on energy to sleep through the rest of the day watchful eyes keep their distance and i can't say i blame them i'm the boy with the glass head filled with deformed homunculi every day is like the last one nowhere to be, nothing to do an endless stream of smoke passes the time from the porch at night or beneath the barn by day passes the time as time stands still there's a wide open world out there and i'm afraid of it i remember old man sisyphus he came to me in a dream gave me the rock and he said you better start rolling i rolled that rock to a golden ship yeah, i rolled up on a golden ship he said it was mine so i stepped inside but he forgot to tell me that the ship was sinking and then he laughed and then i laughed but he's not here now and i'm not laughing now sisyphus sisyphus (that motherfucker) sisyphus he never told me it would be like this
10.
there are no fences there are no signs no lamp lighter to lead the way but a wise pilgrim knows what to look for you must use your own judgement to mark your passage is useless your markings will be scattered the black hand of fate waits to deceive you in the borderlands there are no boundaries here in this realm there are no laws here it's all done with smoke and mirrors you are outside now you are not as them and you dare not tell them of this world here no one will scorn you for the shattering of your soul your soul is the same shade as the dead grass in the borderlands as the ground grows darker and the trees dead and stunted you will see visions of the world left behind feel the black wind, so cold dream the black night, so endless sleep on dead leaves in the night that never ends this is the dream of a dead world this is the poisoned wasteland that you are doomed to forever call home in the borderlands
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eyes wide open the frost bites dead trees hide the sheep alone in the dark driven from the pack wild with fever ready to bite the freezing moon so high and bright black trees like spears screaming to the sky the smell of sheep raw, defenseless meat the primal urge to kill and eat under the freezing moon dinner arrives with the sound of your bones crunching the horrible vise of my jaws clamps down on your throat and i bathe in your blood and then i take a long drink and watch your wide, staring eyes as your useless, dying soul leaves and then i laugh and then i eat
13.
lost days empty haze dead trees ghost train too many nights sitting in the dark idle hands do the devil's work records of a history of accidents moldering boxes of paper most of them filled with secrets most of them not very good i remember scenes from a dying man's room the things i remember i could not describe to you but i see them every night again in my sleep through the noise and the shouting and the sickness and the tainted air i remember most of all those pale shaking hands those pale shaking hands i knew the final round was coming when i saw you spread your dark wings i saw you in the shadows when the time came hiding in the corner waiting for the shaking to stop you're so fucked now christ can't help you here ask yourself is this a good place to die? too bad too fucking bad this, my friend, is where the great empty begins
14.
the first thing i remember on a night so long ago sitting on a porch swing round about midnight the trinity of bright lights streaming through the trees and the roaring thunder of the ghost train coming standing in an empty room in a house that's falling down looking at foggy pictures of those long gone with every passing year the circle thins until nothing is left but old and blurry pictures at a forgotten exhibition stand where you like in the house or in the field there is no escape from the sound of the ghost train even in the dead man's room the ghost train sounds the same all roads lead to dead trees and one last smoke on the porch in the waning hours of the dead then into the fields dancing through the fields around dead trees haunted by a full moon slinging coals and chips of wood and an endless supply of holy gasoline this is how the world ends, my friend standing on a railroad trestle beneath a gray dawn holding a box of matches with the dead sun rising behind dead trees behind dead trees the devil and i take turns shooting off bottle rockets deep into the fields while wreathed in smoke soon there's going to be a great burning lighting up the wide night sky as we wait for the union pacific to make its final nightly run as the fields and the trees burn as the train's night beam comes i'll pick up the dead man's harmonica and play those old ghost train blues
15.
i can see the sun streaming through the trees as the fields burn red and orange like the sun where does one end and the other begin? where does this world end and the next begin? what does the field mouse think as it views the world from the sky high above the clouds godlike for the first time clutched in the hawk's mouth have you ever seen a sunrise like this? the porch is the perfect place to catch the first rays of the rising sun see how they fill the sky trees like shadows against flickering fields of fire see in the distance how the blue and red lights add to the view standing on the porch smoking as the armed men get out of their cars smoking as they advance with guns drawn up the sidewalk smoking as they take the stairs as they take me in smoking while addressing the last of the postcards from the borderlands
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about

A PSYCHODRAMA IN THIRTEEN ACTS

Recorded here and there in a lot of places between 2005-2013, but mainly at the Howling Room 2011-2013. Various bits 'n pieces recorded over time using equipment both lo- and hi-fi at the following locations: Dead Trees, the Dissonance Factory, and the Howling Room. Mixed and mastered by RKF at the Howling Room, May 2013.

Doktor Omega would like to note that the exquisitely hideous drum sound on "cold air" and "daybreak" is for all the sissies who pissed and moaned about the drum sound on EVIL WALKS. Keep it up, dudes and dudettes, and she'll get even uglier. She also wants it known that RKF plays the dead man's bongos on "0509022012," not her. (Poorly, in her opinion, not that anyone listens to her around here, oh no.)

credits

released July 18, 2020

RKF -- guitar, voices, clouds of smoke
Doktor Omega -- beats, time, boots in darkness

special guest: Maddy Ferguson -- electric organ, piano, dead girl blues

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Korperschwache Austin, Texas

Korperschwache was formed in Austin, TX in 1995 and has since released piles of albums on labels such as Crucial Blast, Public Guilt, Inam Records, Cut Hands, Faunasabbatha, Peasant Majik, and more.

Korperschwache is:

RKF -- guitar, vox, efx, paranoid delusions
Doktor Omega -- beats, time, space, dominatrix vibes
... more

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