The Family And The Fishing Net Live

This next one concerns the ritual of the wedding, The ring and the finger. This is called The Family and the Fishing Net. Suffocated by mirrors, sane by dreams. A honey belly that pulls the seams. Curves are stiff upon the hinge. Pale zeros tinge the tiger skin. Meister's grass, ripe and heavy is the night. The sponge is full, Whirl out of sight. All around the conversations. I sing On the warm fresh cake. Light creeps through her secret Tunnels. Sucked into the open spaces. Burning out in sudden flashes. Draining blood from the world-fed Faces. Desire forms its subtle whispers. Flex the muscles in denial. Up and down its pristine cage. Sold the music, Sold the trial. Flowers sacrifice. Flowers of sacrifice. Headless chickens. Headless chickens. Dance in circles. Dance in circles. Pay the rent. The man and wife are cursed by all. Their crafted trunks and heat Possess. Even As the soft skins tingle. They mingle with the homeless mother. Who mourns the day, but lives another. That once was her son. The worried father, long lost lover. Brushes ashes with his broom. Rehearses jokes to fly and hover. Bursting over the bride and groom. And the talk goes on. Memories Crash On tireless waves. The lifeguards Whom the winter saves. Memories crash On tireless waves. The lifeguards Whom the winter saves. Silence falls, the guillotine. All the doors are shut. Nervous hands grip tight the knife. In the darkness till the cake is cut. Cut and pasteurized. In many pieces. In many pieces. The body. The body and the flesh. The family. The family. And the fishing net. And the fishing net. Another. Another. Another in the Flesh. The body and the flesh. And the flesh.