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letra de the blimp poet - peter blegvad and andy partridge

blow him up like a balloon. big, round orpheus – lighter than air! belly down, his arms and legs just stumps, like cloves in a ham, his belly out to here, weightless, turning slowly as he ascends… he’s large enough to accommodate us in his head. we knock his eyes out from the inside and look down from the empty sockets onto the foothills of h-ll…
passing soundless over herds of stumbling dead fresh from the upper world… they don’t look up though we call to them. the stain of our shadow on the lake below – lake of blue acid dotted with d-mned, effervescing but doomed never to corrode…
high above us is the underside of the earth’s crust – a dripping tangle of roots and tendrils… air escapes, a steady leak, from his fundament, propelling orpheus sedately forward…
we approach the cauldrons of dis. spectacular industry! evil devours and regurgitates itself in vast kilns and foundries. the pits are dense with devils and d-mned, cranking it out, hauling it in, wading through fire. low moan of their work-songs borne up on sulphurous blasts to scorch us where we cower behind the blimp-poet’s hollow mask…
we descend in a field of broken glass and nail-parings. orpheus, deflated, groans, rubbing his eyes. “where am i? where are my eyes?”

- peter blegvad and andy partridge

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