Electronic Body Movement: a song of memories, a song of innocence
The room is dark, dreary, smoky purple,
electric and acid.
I am 30 looking down the barrel of 31 and yet, I am pubescent.
Caffeine is my medicine as I finish day 2 without sleep.
I smell like cigarettes and taste like dream dust.
I feel like I’m losing my innocence
I’m preserving my childhood, my machinery of ignorance.
And we dance. Like glowing embers, we dance. Like lightning
bugs, we dance.
She, red devil, now a memoir. Me, wanting her pills.
She is wrapped in cellophane, in a world
without ephedrine worries,
without XTC scares, confusion scars.
I crumble away as each song does the same.
I am rebuilt as each new song is born of 909 beats,
synthesizers and a time devoid of pop tabloid lyricism.
I will never understand these noises, totalitarian and militant.
Marching to a war, a war that I know nothing of.
Caffeine is my medicine, and I taste like stale coffee.
I remember then better then I understand now.