GODBLUFF

A black one, but to me more . 'Undercover Man' begins. All whispery; darkly, as though through a glass, creepy from below - flutes blow silent into that good night whilst "at the glass" there sings the Hammill . Much slowness descends upon us -soul searching. Dark still. Soon all earth is scorched. Eerie keys; militaristic and deathly is the rat-a-tat-tat from the side cracass of snare. Black night is surely a long way from home. "Too late, too late now to turn back. Too soon by far to falter" We must go on. "The past sits uneasily at his rear. He's goaded into an attack-tack-tack-tack. . ." effective upon the echoing green. . .Soon, with much Hammond-organ-eering and pan-sax-da-monium; all sevens and eleven's break loose - strangely odd and oddly strange. "Scorched Earth is all that's left when he's done". Darker grows the night. "Hood masks the eager face. Skin stretched and sallow, headlong into the chilling night, as swift as any ARROW!" All souls in turmoil, now. Searching. Existential! Textures of dark. Bleak House. No sanctuary! Lost in sea and sand as the clot thickens and the candle goes out. ". . .How dark our night is. . ." Sleepers Awake? Against one big tattoo, beaten upon skin of tom-tom, this "mindless army" marches on. . ."it's pace does not relent". Swirling; chordal. "between coma and consciousness . . ." Darkness is become the mask of time. Time to Cha-Cha! Cowbell; Sassy Sax. . Black humour, indeed. Soon, mania ensuse. Losing faith in words. This is not a love song , this has been a 'Godbluff'.