Publicación: 18 de noviembre, 1974.
Productores: John Burns & Genesis.
Ingeniero: David Hutchins.
Grabación: Agosto-octubre de 1974.
Estudios: Island Studios Mobile, Carmarthenshire, Gales.
Mezcla: Island Studios.
Discográfica U.K: Charisma Records / Virgin Records.
Nº de catalogo: CGS 101.
Discográfica U.S.A: Atlantic Records.
Nº de catalogo: SD-2-401.
Diseño de portada, fotografia: Hipgnosis.
Retoque: Richard Manning.
Gráficos: George Hardie (George Hardie N.T.A.).
Imagen de las bóvedas: En Roundhouse.
Rael: "Omar" (en el arte de portada).
Enosificación: Cortesía de Eno de Island Records.
Gracias a Nick Blyth, Smith y Alex de Mole Valley, Graham Bell por la Contribución Coral, Peter el Barbudo, John la Batería, Ray el Camión, Philostratus y Keats.
Tracks:
Disco 1.
Lado A.
01 The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 4:52
02 Fly on a Windshield.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:47
03 Broadway Melody of 1974.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:11
04 Cuckoo Cocoon.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:14
05 In the Cage.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 8:15
06 The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:45
Lado B.
01 Back in N.Y.C.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 5:49
02 Hairless Heart.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:25
03 Counting Out Time.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 3:45
04 The Carpet Crawlers.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 5:16
05 The Chamber of 32 Doors.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 5:40
Disco 2.
Lado C.
01 Lilywhite Lilith.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:40
02 The Waiting Room.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 5:28
03 Anyway.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 3:18
04 Here Comes the Supernatural Anaesthetist.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:50
05 The Lamia.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 6:57
06 Silent Sorrow in Empty Boats.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 3:06
Lado D.
01 The Colony of Slippermen.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 8:14
I) The Arrival.
II) A Visit to the Doktor.
II) The Raven.
02 Ravine.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:05
03 The Light Dies Down on Broadway.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 3:32
04 Riding the Scree.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 3:56
05 In the Rapids.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 2:24
06 It.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford) 4:14
Tiempo total: 94:22 minutos.
Singles:
1974 Counting Out Time / Riding The Scree.
Publicación: 1 de noviembre.
1975 The Carpet Crawlers.
Publicación: Abril.
Vinyl Long Play - Edición U.K:
Discográfica U.K: Charisma Records.
Nº de catalogo: CGS 101.
Genesis:
Steve Hackett: Guitarras eléctricas y acústicas.
Mike Rutherford: Bajo, guitarra de 12 cuerdas.
Tony Banks: Teclados, órgano Hammond T-102, RMI 368x Electra Piano y Harpsichord, sintetizadores Mellotron M-400, ARP Pro Soloist, Elka Rhapsody string synthesizer, piano.
Phil Collins: Batería, percusión, vibráfono, segunda voz (The Colony of Slippermen), coros.
Otros músicos:
Brian Eno: Enossification (efectos de voz), en In The Cage y The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging.
Letras:
The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.
Early morning Manhattan,
Ocean winds blow on the land.
The Movie-Palace is now undone,
The all-night watchmen have had their fun.
Sleeping cheaply on the midnight show,
It's the same old ending-time to go.
Get out!
It seems they cannot leave their dream.
There's something moving in the sidewalk steam,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.
Nightime's flyers feel their pains.
Drugstore takes down the chains.
Metal motion comes in bursts,
But the gas station can quench that thirst.
Suspension cracked on unmade road
The trucker's eyes read 'Overload'
And out on the subway,
Rael Imperial Aerosol Kid
Exits into daylight, spraygun hid,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.
The lamb seems right out of place,
Yet the Broadway street scent finds a focus in its face.
Somehow it's lying there,
Brings a stillness to the air.
Though man-made light, at night is very bright,
There's no whitewash victim,
As the neons dim, to the coat of white.
Rael Imperial Aerosol Kid,
Wipes his gun-he's forgotten what he did,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.
Suzanne tired her work all done,
Thinks money-honey-be on-neon.
Cabman's velvet glove sounds the horn
And the sawdust king spits out his scorn.
Wonder women draw your blind!
Don't look at me! I'm not your kind.
I'm Rael!
Something inside me has just begun,
Lord knows what I have done,
And the lamb lies down on Broadway.
On Broadway -
They say the lights are always bright on Broadway.
They say there's always magic in the air.
Fly On A Windshield.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford).
There's something solid forming in the air,
The wall of death is lowered in Times Square.
No-one seems to care,
They carry on as if nothing was there.
The wind is blowing harder now,
Blowing dust into my eyes.
The dust settles on my skin,
Making a crust I cannot move in
And I'm hovering like a fly, waiting for the windshield on the freeway.
Broadway Melody Of 1974.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
Echoes of the Broadway Everglades,
With her mythical madonnas still walking in their shades:
Lenny Bruce, declares a truce and plays his other hand.
Marshall McLuhan, casual viewin', head buried in the sand.
Sirens on the rooftops wailing, but there's no ship sailing.
Groucho, with his movies trailing, stands alone with his punchline failing.
Klu Klux Klan serve hot soul food and the band plays 'In the Mood'
The cheerleader waves her cyanide wand, there's a smell of peach blossom and bitter almond.
Caryl Chessman sniffs the air and leads the parade, he knows in a scent, you can bottle all you made.
There's Howard Hughes in blue suede shoes,
smiling at the majorettes smoking Winston Cigarettes.
And as the song and dance begins, the children play at home with needles; needles and pins.
Cuckoo Cocoon.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
Wrapped up in some powdered wool-I guess I'm losing touch.
Don't tell me I'm dying, 'cos I ain't changed that much.
The only sound is water drops, I wonder where the hell I am,
Some kind of jam?
Cuckoo Cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?
There's nothing I can recognise; this is nowhere that I've known.
With no sign of life at all, I guess that I'm alone,
And I feel so secure that I know this can't be real but I feel good.
Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?
I wonder if I'm a prisoner locked up in some Brooklyn jail
- or some sort of Jonah shut up inside the whale.
No - I'm still Rael and I'm stuck in some kind of cave,
what could've saved me?
Cuckoo cocoon have I come to, too soon for you?
In The Cage.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
There's sunshine in my stomach
Like I just rocked my baby to sleep.
There's sunshine in my stomach
And I can't keep me from creeping sleep,
Sleep, deep in the deep.
Rockface moves to press my skin
White liquids turn sour within
Turn fast-turn sour
Turn sweat-turn sour.
Must tell myself that I'm not here.
I'm drowning in a liquid fear.
Bottled in a strong compression,
My distortion shows obsession
In the cave.
Get me out of this cave!
If I keep my self-control,
I'll be safe in my soul.
And the childhood belief
Brings a moment's relief,
But my cynic soon returns
And the lifeboat burns.
My spirit just never learns.
Stalactites, Stalagmites
Shut me in, lock me tight.
Lips are dry, throat is dry.
Feel like burning, stomach churning,
I'm dressed up in a white costume
Padding out leftover room.
Body stretching, feel the wretching
In the cage
Get me out of this cage!
In the glare of a light,
I see a strange kind of sight;
Of cages joined to form a star
Each person can't go very far;
All tied to their things
They are netted by their strings,
Free to flutter in memories of their wasted wings.
Outside the cage I see my Brother John,
He turns his head so slowly round.
I cry out help! before he can be gone,
And he looks at me without a sound.
And I shout 'John please help me!'
But he does not even want to try to speak.
I'm helpless in my violent rage
And a silent tear of blood dribbles down his cheek,
And I watch him turn away and leave the cage.
My little runaway.
In a trap, feel a strap
Holding still. Pinned for kill.
Chances narrow that I'll make it,
In the cushioned straight-jacket.
Just like 22nd Street,
When they got me by my neck and feet.
Pressures building, can't take any more.
My headaches charge. My earaches roar.
In the pain
Get me out of this pain.
If I could change to liquid,
I could fill the cracks up in the rock.
But I know that I am solid
And I am my own bad luck.
But outside John disappears and my cage dissolves,
and without any reason my body revolves.
Keep on turning,
Keep on turning,
Turning around,
spinning around.
The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
"The last great adventure left to mankind"
-Screams a drooping lady
offering her dreamdolls at less than extortionate prices,
and as the notes and coins are taken out
I'm taken in, to the factory floor.
For the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- All ready to use
the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- just need a fuse.
Got people stocked in every shade,
Must be doing well with trade.
Stamped, addressed, in odd fatality.
That evens out their personality.
With profit potential marked by a sign,
I can recognise some of the production line,
No bite at all in labour bondage,
Just wrinkled wrappers or human bandage.
The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- All ready to use
It's the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- just need a fuse.
The hall runs like clockwork
Their hands mark out the time,
Empty in their fullness
Like a frozen pantomime.
Everyone's a sales representative
Wearing slogans in their shrine.
Dishing out failsafe superlative,
Brother John is No. 9.
For the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- All ready to use
It's the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- just need a fuse.
The decor on the ceiling
has planned out their future day
I see no sign of free will,
so I guess I'll have to pay,
pay my way,
for the Grand Parade.
for the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- All ready to use
the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
- just need a fuse.
Back in N.Y.C.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
I see faces and traces of home back in New York City -
So you think I'm a tough kid? Is that what you heard?
Well I like to see some action and it gets into my blood.
The call me the trail blazer-Rael-electric razor.
I'm the pitcher in the chain gang, we don't believe in pain
'cos we're only as strong, as the weakest link in the chain.
Let me out of Pontiac when I was just seventeen,
I had to get it out of me, if you know what I mean, what I mean.
You say I must be crazy, 'cos I don't care who I hit, who I hit.
But I know it's me that's hitting out and I'm not full of shit.
I don't care who I hurt, I don't care who I do wrong.
This is your mess I'm stuck in, I really don't belong.
When I take out my bottle, filled up high with gasoline,
You can tell by the night fires where Rael has been, has been.
As I cuddled the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair,
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!
Off we go.
You're sitting in your comfort you don't believe I'm real,
You cannot buy protection from the way that I feel.
Your progressive hypocrites hand out their trash,
But it was mine in the first place, so I'll burn it to ash.
And I've tasted all the strongest meats,
And laid them down in coloured sheets.
Who needs illusion of love and affection
When you're out walking the streets with your mainline connection? connection.
As I cuddle the porcupine
He said I had none to blame, but me.
Held my heart, deep in hair.
Time to shave, shave it off, it off.
No time for romantic escape,
When your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!
Counting Out Time.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
I'm counting out time,
Got the whole thing down by numbers.
All those numbers!
Give my guidance!
O Lord I need that now.
The day of judgement's come,
And you can bet that I've been resting,
for this testing,
Digesting every word the experts say.
Erogenous zones I love you.
Without you, what would a poor boy do?
Found a girl I wanted to date,
Thought I'd better get it straight.
Went to buy a book before it's too late.
Don't leave nothing to fate.
And I have studied every line, every page in the book,
And now I've got the real thing here, I'm gonna take a look, take a look.
This is Rael!
I'm counting out time, hoping it goes like I planned it,
'cos I understand it. Look! I've found the hotspots, Figs 1-9.
- still counting out time, got my finger on the button,
"Don't say nuttin' - just lie there still
And I'll get you turned on just fine."
Erogenous zones I love you.
Without you, what would a poor boy do?
Touch and go with 1-6.
Bit of trouble in zone No. 7.
Gotta remember all of my tricks.
There's heaven ahead in No. 11!
Getting crucial responses with dilation of the pupils.
"Honey get hip! It's time to unzip, to unzip. Whipee!"
- Move over Casanova -
I'm counting out time, reaction none to happy,
Please don't slap me,
I'm a red blooded male and the book said I could not fail.
I'm counting out time, I got unexpected distress from my mistress,
I'll get my money back from the bookstore right away.
Erogenous zones I question you-
Without you, what would a poor boy do?
Without you, mankind handkinds thru' the blues.
The Carpet Crawlers.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
There is lambswool under my naked feet.
The wool is soft and warm,
- gives off some kind of heat.
A salamander scurries into flame to be destroyed.
Imaginary creatures are trapped in birth on celluloid.
The fleas cling to the golden fleece,
Hoping they'll find peace.
Each thought and gesture are caught in celluloid.
There's no hiding in my memory.
There's no room to void.
The crawlers cover the floor in the red ochre corridor.
For my second sight of people, they've more lifeblood than before.
They're moving. They're moving in time to a heavy wooden door,
Where the needle's eye is winking, closing in on the poor.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."
There's only one direction in the faces that I see;
It's upward to the ceiling, where the chambers said to be.
Like the forest fight for sunlight, that takes root in every tree.
They are pulled up by the magnet, believing that they're free.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."
Mild mannered supermen are held in kryptonite,
And the wise and foolish virgins giggle with their bodies glowing bright.
Through a door a harvest feast is lit by candle light;
It's the bottom of a staircase that spirals out of sight.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."
The porcelain manikin with shattered skin fears attack.
The eager pack lift up their pitchers- the carry all they lack.
The liquid has congealed, which has seeped out through the crack,
And the tickler takes his stickleback.
The carpet crawlers heed their callers:
"We've got to get in to get out
We've got to get in to get out."
The Chamber of 32 Doors.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
At the top of the stairs, their's hundreds of people,
running around to all the doors.
They try to find themselves an audience;
their deductions need applause.
The rich man stands in front of me,
The poor man behind my back.
They believe they can control the game,
but the juggler holds another pack.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I'd rather trust a countryman than a town man,
You can judge by his eyes, take a look if you can,
He'll smile through his guard,
Survival trains hard.
I'd rather trust a man who works with his hands,
He looks at you once, you know he understands,
Don't need any shield,
When you're out in the field.
But down here,
I'm so alone with my fear,
With everything that I hear.
And every single door, that I've walked through
Brings me back here again,
I've got to find my own way.
The priest and the magician,
Singing all the chants that they have ever heard;
They're all calling out my name,
Even academics, searching printed word.
My father to the left of me,
My mother to the right,
Like everyone else they're pointing
But nowhere feels quite right.
And I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I'd rather trust a man who doesn't shout what he's found,
There's no need to sell if you're homeward bound.
If I chose a side,
He won't take me for a ride.
Back inside
This chamber of so many doors;
I've nowhere to hide.
I'd give you all of my dreams, if you'd help me,
Find a door
That doesn't lead me back again
-take me away.
Lilywhite Lilith.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
The chamber was in confusion-all the voices shouting loud.
I could only just hear, a voice quite near say, "Please help me
through the crowd"
'Said if I helped her thru' she could help me too, but I could
see that she was wholly blind.
But from her pale face and her pale skin, a moonlight shined.
Lilywhite Lilith,
She gonna take you thru' the tunnel of night.
Lilywhite Lilith,
She gonna lead you right.
When I'd led her through the people, the angry noise began to grow.
She said "Let me feel the way the breezes blow, and I'll show
you where to go."
So I followed her into a big round cave, she said "They're coming
for you, now don't be afraid."
Then she sat me down on a cold stone throne, carved in jade.
Lilywhite Lilith,
She gonna take you thru' the tunnel of night.
Lilywhite Lilith,
She gonna lead you right.
She leaves me in my darkness,
I have to face my fear,
And the darkness closes in on me,
I can hear a whirring sound growling near.
I can see the corner of the tunnel,
Lit up by whatever's coming here.
Two golden globes float into the room
And a blaze of white light fills the air.
Anyway.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
All the pumping's nearly over for my sweet heart,
This is the one for me,
Time to meet the chef,
O boy! running man is out of death.
Feel cold and old, it's getting hard to catch my breath.
's back to ash, now, you've had your flash boy
The rocks, in time, compress
your blood to oil,
your flesh to coal,
enrich the soil,
not everybody's goal.
Anyway, they say she comes on a pale horse,
But I'm sure I hear a train.
O boy! I don't even feel no pain-
I guess I must be driving myself insane.
Damn it all! does earth plug a hole in heaven,
Or heaven plug a hole in the earth-'how wonderful to be so profound,
when everything you are is dying underground.'
I feel the pull on the rope, let me off at the rainbow.
I could have been exploding in space
Different orbits for my bones
Not me, just quietly buried in stones,
Keep the deadline open with my maker!
See me stretch; for God's elastic acre
The doorbell rings and it's
"Good morning Rael
So sorry you had to wait.
It won't be long, yeh!
She's very rarely late."
Here Comes the Supernatural Anaesthetist.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
Here comes the supernatural anaesthetist.
If he wants you to snuff it,
All he has to do is puff it
- he's such a fine dancer.
The Lamia.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
The scent grows richer, he knows he must be near,
He finds a long passageway lit by chandelier.
Each step he takes, the perfumes change
From familiar fragrance to flavours strange.
A magnificent chamber meets his eye.
Inside, a long rose-water pool is shrouded by fine mist.
Stepping in the moist silence, with a warm breeze he's gently kissed.
Thinking he is quite alone,
He enters the room, as if it were his own,
But ripples on the sweet pink water
Reveal some company unthought of -
Rael stands astonished doubting his sight,
Struck by beauty, gripped in fright;
Three vermilion snakes of female face,
The smallest motion, filled with grace.
Muted melodies fill the echoing hall,
But there is no sign of warning in the siren's call:
"Rael welcome, we are the Lamia of the pool.
We have been waiting for our waters to bring you cool."
Putting fear beside him, he trusts in beauty blind,
He slips into the nectar, leaving his shredded clothes behind.
"With their tongues, they test, taste and judge all that is mine.
They move in a series of caresses
That glide up and down my spine.
As they nibble the fruit of my flesh, I feel no pain,
Only a magic that a name would stain.
With the first drop of my blood in their veins
Their faces are convulsed in mortal pains.
The fairest cries, 'We all have loved you Rael'."
Each empty snakelike body floats,
Silent sorrow in empty boats.
A sickly sourness fills the room,
The bitter harvest of a dying bloom.
Looking for motion I know I will not find,
I stroke the curls now turning pale, in which I'd lain entwined
"O Lamia, your flesh that remains I will take as my food"
It is the scent of garlic that lingers on my chocolate fingers.
Looking behind me, the water turns icy blue,
The lights are dimmed and once again the stage is set for you.
The Colony of Slippermen.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
I) The Arrival.
Rael:
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
Till I came upon this dirty street.
I've never seen a stranger crowd;
Slubberdegullions on a squeaky feet,
Continually pacing,
With nonchalant embracing,
Each orifice disgracing
And one facing me moves to say "hellay".
His skin's all covered in slimy lumps.
With lips that slide across each chin.
His twisted limbs like rubber stamps
Are waved in welcome say 'Please join in.'
My grip must be flipping,
Cos his handshake keeps slipping,
My hopes keep on dipping
And his lips keep on smiling all the time.
Slipperman:
"We like you, have tasted love.
Don't be alarmed at what you see,
You yourself are just the same
As what you see in me."
Rael:
Me, like you? like that!
Slipperman:
"You better watch it son, your sentence has only just begun
You better run and join your brother John."
II) A Visit to the Doktor.
Slipperman:
"You're in the colony of slippermen.
There's no who? why? what? or when?
You get out if you've got the gripe
To see, Doktor Dyper, reformed sniper -
he'll whip off your windscreenwiper.
Rael:
John and I are able
To face the Doktor and his marble table.
The Doktor:
Understand Rael, it's the end of your tail.
Rael:
"Don't delay, dock the dick!"
I watch his countdown timer tick......
III) The Raven.
He places the number into a tube,
A yellow plastic "shoobedoobe".
It says: "Though your fingers may tickle
You'll be safe in our pickle."
Suddenly, black cloud comes down from the sky.
It's a supersize black bird that sure can fly.
The raven brings on darkness and night
He flies right down, gives me one hell of a fright.
He takes the tube right out of my hands
Man, I've got to find out where that black bird lands.
"Look here John, I've got to run
I need you now, you going to come?"
He says to me.
John:
"Now can't you see
Where the raven flies there's jeopardy.
We've been cured on the couch
Now you're sick with your grouch.
I'll not risk my honey pouch
Which my slouch will wear slung very low."
Rael:
He walks away and leaves me once again.
Even though I never learn,
I'd hoped he'd show just some concern.
I'm in agony of Slipperpain
I pray my undercarriage will sustain.
The chase is on, the pace is hot
But I'm running so very hard with everything I've got.
He leads me down an underpass
Though it narrows, he still flies very fast,
When the tunnel stops
I catch sight of the tube, just as it drops.
I'm on top of a bank, to steep to climb,
I see it hit the water, just in time,
to watch it float away.
The Light Dies Down on Broadway.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
As he walks along the gorge's edge,
He meets a sense of yesteryear.
A window in the bank above his head
Reveals his home amidst the streets.
Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by an unknown hand;
- My home.
Is this the way out from this endless scene?
Or just an entrance to another dream?
And the light dies down on Broadway.
But as the skylight beckons him to leave,
He hears a scream fro far below.
Within the raging water, writhes the form
Of brother John, he cries for help.
The gate is fading now, but open wide,
But John is drowning, I must decide
Between the freedom I had in the rat-race,
Or to stay forever in this forsaken place;
Hey John!
He makes for the river and the gate is gone,
Back to the void where it came from.
And the light dies down on Broadway.
Riding the Scree.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
Struggling down the slope,
There's not much hope.
I begin to try to ride the scree,
but the rocks are tumbling all around me.
If I want John alive,
I've got to ditch my fear-take a dive,
While I've still got my drive to survive.
Evel Knievel, you got nothing on me.
Here I go!
In the Rapids.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
Moving down the water
John is drifting out of sight,
It's only at the turning point
That you find out how to fight.
In the cold, feel the cold
all around
And the rush of crashing water
Surround me with its sound.
Striking out to reach you,
I can't get through to the other side.
When you're racing in the rapids
There's only one way, that's to ride.
Taken down, taken down
by the undertow
And I'm spiralled down the river bed,
My fire is burning low.
Catching hold of a rock that's firm,
I'm waiting for John to be carried past.
We hold together and shoot the rapids fast.
And when the waters slow down
The dark and the deep
have no-one left to keep.
Hang on John! We're out of this at last.
Something's changed, that's not your face.
It's mine!
It.
(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
When it's cold, it comes slow.
it is warm, just watch it grow.
- all around me.
it is here. it is now.
Just a little bit of it can bring you up or down.
Like the supper it is cooking in your hometown.
it is chicken, it is eggs,
it is in between your legs.
it is walking on the moon,
leaving your cocoon.
it is the jigsaw. it is purple haze.
it never stays in one place, but it's not a passing phase,
it is in the single's bar, in the distance of the face,
it is in between the cages, it is always in a space
it is here. it is now.
Any rock can be made to roll,
If you've enough of it to pay the toll.
it has no home in words or goal,
Not even in your favourite hole.
it is the hope for the dope.
When you ride the horse without a hoof.
it is shaken, not stirred;
Cocktails on the roof.
When you eat right 'tru it you see everything alive,
it is inside spirit, with enough grit to survive
If you think it's pretentious, you've been taken for a ride.
Look across the mirror, before you chose decide
it is here. it is now
it is Rael. it is Rael
'cos it's only knock and knowall, but I like it.
Liner Notes:
Keep your fingers out of my eye. While I write I like to glance at the butterflies in glass that are all around the walls. The people in memory are pinned to events I can't recall too well, but I'm putting one down to watch him break up, decompose and feed another sort of life. The one in question is all fully biodegradable material and categorised as 'Rael'. Rael hates me, I like Rael, -- yes, even ostriches have feelings, but our relationship is something both of us are learning to live with. Rael likes a good time, I like a good rhyme, but you won't see me directly anymore -- he hates my being around. So if his story doesn't stand, I might lend a hand, you understand? (ie. the rhyme is planned, dummies).
The flickering needle jumps into red. New York crawls out of its bed. The weary guests are asked to leave the warmth of the all-night theater, having slept on pictures others only dream on. The un-paid extras disturb the Sleeping Broadway. WALK to the left DON'T WALK to the right: on Broadway, directions don't look so bright. Autoghosts keep the pace for the cabman's early mobile race.
Enough of this -- our hero is moving up the subway stairs into day- light. Beneath his leather jacket he holds a spray gun which has left the message R-A-E-L in big letters on the wall leading underground. It may not mean much to you but to Rael it is part of the process going towards 'making a name for yourself.' When you're not even a pure-bred Puerto Rican the going gets tough and the tough gets going.
With casual sideways glances along the wet street, he checks the motion in the steam to look for potential obstruction. Seeing none, he strides along the sidewalk, past the drugstore with iron guard being removed to reveal the smile of the toothpaste girl, past the nightladies and past Patrolman Frank Leonowich (48, married, two kids) who stands in the doorway of the wig-store. Patrolman Leonowich looks at Rael in much the same way that other Patrolmen look at him, and Rael only just hides that he is hiding something. Meanwhile from out of the steam a lamb lies down. This lamb has nothing whatsoever to do with Rael, or any other lamb -- it just lies down on Broadway.
The sky is overcast and as Rael looks back a dark cloud is descending like a balloon into Times Square. It rests on the ground and shapes itself into a hard edged flat surface, which solidifies and extends itself all the way East and West along 47th Street and reaching up to the dark sky. As the wall takes up its tension it becomes a screen showing what had existed in three dimensions, on the other side just a moment before. The image flickers and then cracks like painted clay and the wall silently moves forward, absorbing everything in its path. The unsuspecting New Yorkers are apparently blind to what is going on.
Rael starts to run away towards Columbus Circle. Each time he dares to take a look, the wall has moved another block. At the moment when he thinks he's maintaining his distance from the wall, the wind blows hard and cold slowing down his speed. The wind increases, dries the wet street and picks up the dust off the surface, throwing it into Rael's face. More and more dirt is blown up and it begins to settle on Rael's skin and clothes, making a solid layered coat that brings him gradually to a terrified stillness. A sitting duck.
The moment of impact bursts through the silence and in a roar of sound, the final second is prolonged in a world of echoes as if the concrete and clay of Broadway itself was reliving its memories.
The last great march past. Newsman stands limp as a whimper as audience and event are locked as one. Bing Crosby coos "You don't have to feel pain to sing the blues, you don't have to holla -- you don't feel a thing in your dollar collar." Martin Luther King cries "Everybody Sing!" and rings the grand old liberty bell. Leary, weary of his prison cell, walks on heaven, talks on hell. J.F.K. gives the O.K. to shoot us, sipping Orange Julius and Lemon Brutus. Bare breasted cowboy double decks the triple champion. Who needs Medicare and the 35c flat rate fare, when Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are dancing through the air? From Broadway Melody stereotypes the band returns to 'Stars and Stripes' bringing a tear to the moonshiner, who's been pouring out his spirit from the illegal still. The pawn broker clears the noisy till and clutches his lucky dollar bill. Then the blackout.
Rael regains consciousness in some musky half-light. He is warmly wrapped in some sort of cocoon. The only sound he can hear is dripping water which appears to be the source of a pale flickering light. He guesses he must be in some sort of cave -- or kooky tomb, or catacomb, or eggshell waiting to drop from the bone of the womb. Whatever it is, he feels serene, very clean, and content as a well kept dummy with hot water in his tummy, so why worry what it means? Resigning himself to the unknown he drifts off into sleep.
He wakes in a cold sweat with a strong urge to vomit. There's no sign of the cocoon and he can see more of the cave about him. There is much more of the glowing water dripping from the roof and stalactites and stalagmites are forming and decomposing at an alarming rate all around him. As fear and shock register, he assures himself that self-control will provide some security, but this thought is abandoned as the stalactites and stalagmites lock into a fixed position, forming a cage whose bars are moving in towards him. At one moment there is a flash of light and he sees an infinite network of cages all strung together by a ropelike material. As the rocky bars press in on Rael's body, he sees his brother John outside, looking in. John's face is motionless despite screams for help, but in his vacant expression a tear of blood forms and trickles down his cheek. Then he calmly walks away leaving Rael to face the pains which are beginning to sweep through his body. However, just as John walks out of sight, the cage dissolves and Rael is left spinning like a top.
When all this revolution is over, he sits down on a highly polished floor while his dizziness fades away. It is an empty modern hallway and the dreamdoll saleslady sits at the reception desk. Without prompting she goes into her rap: "This is the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging, those you are about to see are all in for servicing, except for a small quantity of our new product, in the second gallery. It is all the stock required to cover the existing arrangements of the enterprise. Different batches are distributed to area operators, and there are plenty of opportunities for the large investor. They stretch from the costly care-conditioned to the most reasonable mal-nutritioned. We find here that everyone's looks become them. Except for the low market mal-nutritioned, each is provided with a guarantee for a successful birth and trouble free infancy. There is however only a small amount of variable choice potential -- not too far from the mean differential. You see, the roof has predetermined the limits of action of any group of packages, but individuals may move off the path if their diversions are counter-balanced by others."
As he wanders along the line of packages, Rael notices a familiarity in some of their faces. He finally comes upon some of the members of his old gang and worries about his own safety. Running out through the factory floor, he catches sight of his brother John with a number 9 stamped on his forehead.
No-one seems to take up the chase, and with the familiar faces fresh in his mind he moves into a reconstruction of his old life, above ground --
Too much time was one thing he didn't need, so he used to cut through it with a little speed. He was better off dead, than slow in the head. His momma and poppa had taken a ride on his back, so he left very quickly to join The Pack. Only after a spell in Pontiac reformatory was he given any respect in the gang. Now, walking back home after a raid, he was cuddling a sleeping porcupine.
That night he pictured the removal of his hairy heart and to the accompaniment of very romantic music he watched it being shaved smooth by an anonymous stainless steel razor. The palpitating cherry-red organ was returned to its rightful place and began to beat faster as it led our hero, counting out time, through his first romantic encounter.
He returns from his mixed-up memories to the passage he was previously stuck in. This time he discovers a long carpeted corridor. The walls are painted in red ochre and are marked by strange insignia, some looking like a bulls-eye, others of birds and boats. Further down the corridor, he can see some people; all kneeling. With broken sighs and murmurs they struggle, in their slow motion to move towards a wooden door at the end. Having seen only the inanimate bodies in the Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging, Rael rushes to talk to them.
"What's going on?" he cries to a muttering monk, who conceals a yawn and replies "It's a long time yet before the dawn." A sphinx-like crawler calls his name saying "Don't ask him, the monk is drunk. Each one of us is trying to reach the top of the stairs, a way out will await us there." Not asking how he can move freely, our hero goes boldly through the door. Behind a table loaded with food, is a spiral staircase going up into the ceiling.
At the top of the stairs he finds a chamber. It is almost a hemisphere with a great many doors all the way round its circumference. There is a large crowd, huddled in various groups. From the shouting, Rael learns that there are 32 doors, but only one that leads out. Their voices get louder and louder until Rael screams "Shut up!" There is a momentary silence and then Rael finds himself the focus as they direct their advice and commands to their new found recruit. Bred on trash, fed on ash the jigsaw master has got to move faster. Rael sees a quiet corner and rushes to it. He stands by a middle-aged woman, with a very pale skin who is quietly talking to herself. He discovers she is blind and asking for a guide. "What's the use of a guide if you got nowhere to go" asks Rael. "I've got somewhere to go," she replies "if you take me through the noise, I'll show you. I'm a creature of the caves and I follow the way the breezes blow."
He leads her across the room and they leave the crowd, who dismiss their departure as certain to fail. When through the door, the woman leads Rael down the tunnel. The light of the chamber soon fades and despite her confident step Rael often stumbles in the darkness. After a long walk they arrive in what Rael judges to be a big round cave, and she speaks a second time asking him to sit down. It feels like a cold stone throne.
"Rael, sit here. They will come for you soon. Don't be afraid." And failing to explain any more she walks off. He faces his fear once again.
A tunnel is lit up to the left of him, and he begins to shake. As it grows brighter, he hears a non-metallic whirring sound. The light is getting painfully bright, reflecting as white off the walls until his vision is lost in a sort of snow blindness. He panics, feels around for a stone and hurls it at the brightest point. The sound of breaking glass echoes around the cave.
As his vision is restored he catches sight of two golden gloves about one foot in diameter hovering away down the tunnel.
When they disappear a resounding crack sears across the roof, and it collapses all around him. Our hero is trapped once again.
"This is it" he thinks, failing to move any of the fallen rocks.
There's not much spectacle for an underground creole as he walks through the gates of Sheol. "I would have preferred to have been jettisoned into a thousand pieces in space, or filled with helium and floated above a mausoleum. This is no way to pay my last subterranean homesick dues. Anyway I'm out of the hands of any pervert embalmer doing his interpretation of what I should look like, stuffing his cotton wool in my cheeks."
Exhausted by all this conjecture, our hero gets the chance in a lifetime to meet his hero: Death. Death is wearing a light disguise, he made the outfit himself. He calls it the "Supernatural Anaesthetist." Death likes meeting people and wants to travel. Death approaches Rael with his special cannister, releases a puff, and appears to walk away content into the wall.
Rael touches his face to confirm that he is still alive. He writes Death off as an illusion, but notices a thick musky scent hanging in the air. He moves to the corner where the scent is stronger, discovering a crack in the rubble through which it is entering. He tries to shift the stones and eventually clears a hole large enough to crawl out of. The perfume is even stronger on the other side and he sets off to find its source, with a new-found energy.
He finally reaches a very ornate pink-water pool. It is lavishly decorated with gold fittings. The walls around the pool are covered with a maroon velvet up which honeysuckle is growing.
From out of the mist on the water comes a series of ripples. Three snakelike creatures are swimming towards Rael. Each reptilian creature has the diminutive head and breasts of a beautiful woman. His horror gives way to infatuation as their soft green eyes show their welcome. The Lamia invite him to taste the sweet water and he is quick to enter the pool. As soon as he swallows some liquid, a pale blue luminescence drips off from his skin. The Lamia lick the liquid; very gently as they begin, with each new touch, he feels the need to give more and more. They knead his flesh until his bones appear to melt, and at a point at which he feels he cannot go beyond, they nibble at his body. Taking in the first drops of his blood, their eyes blacken and their bodies are shaken. Distraught with helpless passion he watches as his lovers die. In a desperate attempt to bring what is left of them into his being, he takes and eats their bodies, and struggles to leave his lovers' nest.
Leaving by the same door from which he had come in, he finds some sort of freaks ghetto on the other side. When they catch sight of him, the entire street of distorted figures burst into laughter. One of the colony approaches him. He is grotesque in every feature, a mixture of ugly lumps and stumps.
His lips slip across his chin as he smiles in welcome and offers his slippery handshake. Rael is a little disillusioned, when the Slipperman reveals that the entire colony have one-by-one been through the same glorious romantic tragedy with the same three Lamia, who regenerate themselves every time, and that now Rael shares their physical appearance and shadowy fate.
Amongst the contorted faces of the Slippermen, Rael recognises what is left of his brother John. They hug each other. John bitterly explains that the entire life of the Slipperman is devoted to satisfying the never-ending hunger of the senses, which has been inherited from the Lamia. There is only one escape route; a dreaded visit to the notorious Doktor Dyper who will remove the source of the problems, or to put it less politely, castrate.
They discuss the deceptively-named escape for a long time and decide to go together to visit the Doktor. They survive the ordeal and are presented with the offensive weapons in sterile yellow plastic tubes, with gold chains. "People usually wear them around their necks," said the Doktor handing them over. "The operation does not necessarily exclude use of the facility again, for short periods, but of course when you want it you must provide us with considerable advance warning." As the brothers talk themselves through their new predicament, a big black raven flies into the cave, swoops down, grabs Rael's tube right out of his hands and carries it up into the air in his beak. Rael calls for John to go with him.
And he replies "I will not chase a black raven. Down here you must read and obey the omens. There's disaster where the raven flies." So once more John deserts his brother.
The bird leads Rael down a narrow tunnel, he seems to be allowing him to keep at a closed distance. But as Rael thinks he might almost catch hold of the bird, the tunnel opens and finishes at an enormous subterranean ravine. Casually, the raven drops his precious load into the rushing waters at the bottom. It's enough to drive a poor boy ravin' mad. Seeing the dangers of the steep cliff, our courageous hero stands impotent and glowers. He follows a small path running along the top, and watches the tube bobbing up and down in the water as the fast current carries it away. However, as he walks around a corner Rael sees a sky-light above him, apparently built into the bank. Through it he can see the green grass of home, well not exactly; he can see Broadway. His heart, now a little bristly, is shaken by a surge of joy and he starts to run, arms wide open, to the way out. At this precise point in time his ears pick up a voice screaming for help. Someone is struggling in the rapids below. It's John. He pauses for a moment remembering how his brother had abandoned him. Then the window begins to fade -- it's time for action.
He rushes to the cliff and scrambles down the rocks. It takes him a long time to get down to the water, trying to keep up with the current at the same time. As he nears the water's edge he sees John losing strength. He dives down into the cold water. At first he is thrown onto the rocks, and pulled under the water by a fast moving channel, which takes him right past John, down river. Rael manages to grab a rock, pull himself to the surface and catch his breath. As John is carried past, Rael throws himself in again and catches hold of his arm. He knocks John unconscious and then locking themselves together, he rides the rapids into the slow running water, where he can swim to safety.
But as he hauls his brother's limp body onto the bank he lies him out and looks hopefully into his eyes for a sign of life. He staggers back in recoil, for staring at him with eyes wide open is not John's face -- but his own.
Rael cannot look away from those eyes, mesmerized by his own image. In a quick movement, his consciousness darts from one face to the other, then back again, until his presence is no longer solidly contained in one or the other.
In this fluid state he observes both bodies outlined in yellow and the surrounding scenery melting into a purple haze. With a sudden rush of energy up both spinal columns, their bodies, as well, finally dissolve into the haze.
All this takes place without a single sunset, without a single bell ringing and without a single blossom falling from the sky. Yet it fills everything with its mysterious intoxicating presence. It's over to you.
Historia en Español:
Mantén tus dedos fuera de mi ojo. Mientras escribo, me gusta mirar las mariposas de vidrio que hay alrededor de todas las paredes. La gente en mi memoria están prendidos con alfileres a eventos que no recuerdo muy bien, pero estoy escribiendo uno para verlo desmenuzarse, descomponerse y alimentar otra clase de vida. El evento en cuestión es material completamente biodegradable y categorizado como 'Rael'. Rael me odia, a mí me gusta Rael, -sí, aún las avestruces tienen sentimientos, pero nuestra relación es algo con lo que ambos estamos aprendiendo a vivir. A Rael le gusta un buen rato, a mi me gusta una buena rima, pero no me verán directamente más -él odia que yo esté en los alrededores. Así que, si esta historia no se entiende, yo podría echar una mano, (¿ustedes entienden?) (eso es que la rima es planeada, tontos).
La flameante aguja salta hacia lo rojo. New York sale arrastrado de su cama. Los invitados cansados son convidados a abandonar el calor del teatro de toda la noche, habiendo dormido sobre películas que otros sólo sueñan. Los extras que no han sido pagados perturban el Dormido Broadway. CAMINE a la izquierda NO CAMINE a la derecha: en Broadway las direcciones no se ven tan brillantes. Autos fantasmas mantienen el paso para la carrera de móviles de los taxistas tempraneros.
Suficiente de esto -nuestro héroe sube por las escaleras del metro hacia la luz del día. Detrás de su chaqueta de cuero tiene una pistola spray que ha dejado el mensaje R-A-E-L en letras grandes sobre la pared de bajada. Puede no significar mucho para tí pero para Rael es parte del proceso que lleva a 'hacer un nombre por tí mismo'. Cuando tú no eres ni un Puertorriqueño de raza pura la vida se vuelve difícil, y sale a relucir lo más fuerte de tí.
Con ojeadas casuales hacia los lados a lo largo de la calle, él chequea el movimiento en el vapor buscando obstrucción potencial. Sin ver ninguna, cruza a grandes trancos la acera, pasa la droguería siendo removida la santamaría para revelar la sonrisa de la muchacha de la pasta de dientes, pasa las damas de la noche y pasa el patrullero Frank Leonovich (48, casado, dos hijos) quien está parado en la entrada de la tienda de pelucas. El patrullero Leonovich mira a Rael de la misma forma que otros patrulleros lo miran, y Rael sólo esconde que está escondiendo algo. Mientras tanto desde fuera del vapor un cordero yace. Este cordero no tiene nada que ver con Rael, o con ningún otro cordero -sólo yace en Broadway.
El cielo está cubierto y mientras Rael mira hacia atrás una nube oscura está descendiendo como un globo en Times Square. Se posa en el suelo y toma la forma de una superficie lisa de bordes duros, la cual se solidifica y extiende hacia el Este y Oeste a lo largo de la Calle 47 y llegando hasta el cielo oscuro. Mientras la pared levanta su tensión se vuelve una pantalla que muestra en tres dimensiones lo que había existido al otro lado tan sólo un momento antes. La imagen flamea y entonces se resquebraja como arcilla pintada y la pared se mueve hacia adelante silenciosamente, absorbiendo todo a su paso. Los confiados Neoyorquinos están aparentemente ciegos ante lo que está sucediendo.
Rael empieza a correr hacia Columbus Circle. Cada vez que se atreve a echar un vistazo, la pared se ha movido otra cuadra. En el momento en que piensa que está manteniendo su distancia de la pared, el viento sopla fuerte y frío disminuyendo su velocidad. El viento aumenta, seca la mojada calle y recoge el polvo de la superficie, arrojándolo a la cara de Rael. Más y más polvo es levantado por el viento y comienza a sedimentarse sobre la piel y la ropa de Rael, haciendo una capa sólida que lo lleva gradualmente a una inmovilidad espantosa. Un pato sentado.
El momento del impacto irrumpe en el silencio y en rugido de sonido, el segundo final es prolongado en un mundo de ecos como si el concreto y la arcilla de Broadway mismo estuviera reviviendo sus memorias. La última gran marcha pasa. El hombre de las noticias se halla débil como un lloriqueo mientras audiencia y evento son atados como uno solo. Bing Crosby (canta) "Tú no tienes que sentir dolor para cantar el blues, no tienes que (hola) -no tienes que sentir nada en tu collar de dólares." Martin Luther King grita "¡Todos canten!" y tañe la gran y vieja campana de la libertad. Leary, cansado de su celda de prisión, camina en el cielo, habla en el infierno. J.F.K. da el Okey para dispararnos, sorbiendo Naranja Julius y Limón Brutus. El vaquero con el pecho descubierto (adorna) doblemente al triple campeón. ¿Quién necesita Medicare y la tarifa de 35¢ cuando Fred Astaire y Ginger Rogers están bailando a través del aire? Desde los estereotipos de Broadway Melody la banda regresa a 'Stars and Stripes' trayendo una lágrima al que hace brillar la luna, quien ha estado derramando su espíritu desde el silencio ilegal. El corredor de empeños limpia el ruidoso cajón para guardar dinero y agarra su afortunado billete de un dólar. Entonces el desmayo.
Rael recupera el conocimiento en alguna media luz almizclera. El está tibiamente envuelto en alguna clase de capullo. El único sonido que puede oír es agua goteando, la cual parece ser el origen de la flameante luz pálida. El piensa que debe estar en alguna clase de cueva -o tumba lunática, o catacumba, o cáscara de huevo esperando caer desde el hueso de las entrañas. Cualquier cosa que sea, se siente sereno, muy limpio y contento como un muñeco bien cuidado con agua caliente en su panza, entonces ¿por qué preocuparse por saber qué significa? Resignándose a lo desconocido es arrastrado hacia el sueño.
Se levanta con un sudor frío y un fuerte apremio por vomitar. No hay señales del capullo y no puede ver más de la cueva alrededor suyo. Hay mucha más del agua brillante goteando del techo y estalactitas y estalagmitas están formándose y descomponiéndose a una velocidad increíble a todo su alrededor. A medida que el miedo y el sobresalto se registran, él se asegura a sí mismo que el autocontrol le proporcionará algo de seguridad, pero su pensamiento es abandonado a medida que las estalactitas y estalagmitas se entrelazan en una posición fija, formando una jaula cuyas barras están moviéndose hacia él. En un momento hay un destello de luz y él ve una red infinita de jaulas todas amarradas por un material parecido a una cuerda. Mientras las barras rocosas presionan el cuerpo de Rael, él ve a su hermano John fuera, mirando hacia adentro. La cara de John está inmóvil a pesar de los gritos de ayuda, pero en su expresión vacía una gota de sangre se forma y corre por su mejilla. Entonces él se va calmadamente dejando a Rael enfrentarse a los dolores que empiezan a cubrir su cuerpo. Sin embargo, justo mientras John se pierde de vista la jaula de disuelve y Rael queda dando vueltas como un trompo.
Cuando toda esta revolución llega a su fin, se sienta en un piso sumamente pulido, mientras su vértigo se desvanece. Es un vacío pasillo moderno y la vendedora de muñecas de sueños está sentada en la mesa de recepción. Sin preguntar comienza con su discurso: "Esta es la Gran Marcha de Empaquetamiento sin vida, aquellos a quienes usted está a punto de ver están todos metidos en servicio, excepto por una pequeña cantidad de nuestro nuevo producto, en la segunda galería. Es toda la provisión requerida para cubrir los arreglos existentes de la empresa. Diferentes tandas son distribuidas a los operadores de área, y hay abundantes oportunidades para el gran inversionista. Ellas se extienden desde el costoso acondicionado a cuidados hasta el más razonable desnutrido. Nosotros encontramos aquí que a las miradas de todos les convienen ellos. Excepto por el bajo mercado de desnutridos, cada uno viene con una garantía de nacimiento exitoso e infancia sin problemas. Hay, sin embargo, sólo una pequeña cantidad de potencial de selección variable -no muy lejos del diferencial de la media. Usted ve, el techo ha predeterminado los límites de acción de cualquier grupo de paquetes, pero los individuos pueden salirse del camino si sus diversiones son contrabalanceadas por otros."
Mientras merodea a lo largo de la línea de paquetes, Rael nota una familiaridad en algunas de sus caras. El finalmente se encuentra con algunos miembros de su antigua pandilla y se preocupa por su propia seguridad. Corriendo fuera del piso de la fábrica, alcanza a ver a su hermano John con un número 9 estampado en la parte posterior de su cabeza.
Nadie parece emprender la persecución, y con las caras familiares frescas en su mente procede a reconstruir su antigua vida, encima de la tierra -Demasiado tiempo era una cosa que no necesitaba, así que solía recortarlo con un poco de velocidad. Estaba en mejores circunstancias muerto que lento en la cabeza. Su mamá y papá habían dado un paseo montados en su espalda, así que se fue muy rápido para unirse a La Cuadrilla. Sólo después de un embrujo en el reformatorio de Pontiac le fue dado respeto en la pandilla. Ahora, caminando de regreso a casa después de una redada, él estaba acariciando un puercoespín durmiente. Esa noche él imaginó la remoción de su peludo corazón y con el acompañamiento de música muy romántica lo veía siendo afeitado por una hojilla de acero inoxidable hasta quedar liso. El palpitante órgano rojo cereza fue devuelto a su lugar legítimo y empezó a latir más fuertemente a medida que guiaba a nuestro héroe, descontado tiempo, a través de su primer encuentro romántico.
El regresa de sus memorias confundidas al pasaje donde estaba previamente atorado. Esta vez descubre un largo corredor alfombrado. Las paredes están pintadas de rojo ocre y están marcadas por insignias extrañas, algunas que se ven como una diana, otras de pájaros y botes. Más abajo en el corredor, puede ver alguna gente; todos arrodillándose. Con suspiros quebrados y murmullos ellos luchan, en su cámara lenta para moverse hacia una puerta de madera al final. Habiendo visto sólo los cuerpos inanimados en la Gran Marcha de Empaquetamiento sin vida, Rael se apresura para hablar con ellos.
"¿Qué sucede?" el grita a un monje refunfuñón, quien disimula un bostezo y responde "Falta mucho tiempo para el alba." Un reptil con forma de esfinge lo llama por su nombre diciendo "No le preguntes, el monje esta borracho. Cada uno de nosotros está tratando de alcanzar la parte de arriba de las escaleras, una salida nos esperará allá." Sin preguntar cómo puede moverse libremente, nuestro héroe atraviesa audazmente la puerta. Detrás de una mesa llena de comida, está una escalera espiral que sube al techo.
En la parte superior de las escaleras encuentra una habitación. Es casi un hemisferio con muchísimas puertas a lo largo de toda su circunferencia. Hay una gran multitud, amontonados en varios grupos. De la gritería, Rael se entera de que hay 32 puertas, pero sólo una lleva afuera. Sus voces se vuelven más fuertes y más fuertes hasta que Rael grita "¡Cállense!" Hay un silencio momentáneo y entonces se encuentra como el foco ya que ellos dirigen su consejo y órdenes a su recién encontrado recluta. Criado en la basura, alimentado de ceniza el maestro del rompecabezas tiene que moverse más rápido. Rael observa un rincón callado y se apresura hacia él. Se para cerca de una mujer de mediana edad con piel muy pálida quien está calladamente hablando sí. El descubre que ella es ciega y está pidiendo un guía "¿De qué sirve un guía si no tiene a dónde ir?" pregunta Rael. "Tengo un lugar a dónde ir," ella responde "si me llevas a través del ruido, te enseñaré. Soy una criatura de las cavernas y sigo la dirección en que soplan las brisas."
El la guía a través de la habitación y abandonan la multitud, quienes despiden su partida con seguridad de que va a fracasar. Cuando atraviesan la puerta, la mujer lleva a Rael bajando por el túnel. La luz de la habitación pronto se desvanece y a pesar del paso confiado de ella Rael a menudo tropieza en la oscuridad.
Después de una larga caminata llagan a lo que Rael considera una gran cueva redonda, y ella habla por segunda vez pidiéndole que se siente. Se siente como un frío trono de piedra.
"Rael, siéntate aquí. Ellos vendrán pronto por tí. No tengas miedo." Y sin explicar nada más se disipa. El enfrenta su miedo de nuevo.
Un túnel es iluminado a su izquierda, y él comienza a sacudirse. A medida que se vuelve más brillante, oye un zumbido no metálico. La luz se está volviendo dolorosamente brillante, reflejándose como blanco en las paredes hasta que su visión se pierde en una especie de ceguera de la nieve. Siente pánico, tantea a su alrededor buscando una piedra y la lanza al punto más brillante. El sonido de vidrio rompiéndose hace eco por todos lados de la cueva.
A medida que su visión es restituida alcanza a ver dos globos dorados de aproximadamente un pie de diámetro alejándose revoloteando por el túnel. Cuando desaparecen, un resonante crujido se seca () a través del techo, y éste cae a todo su alrededor. Nuestro héroe está atrapado una vez más.
"Esta es" él piensa, fallando al intentar mover alguna de las rocas caídas. No hay mucho espectáculo para un criollo subterráneo a medida que camina a través de las puertas de Sheol. "Yo hubiera preferido haber sido expelido en mil pedazos en el espacio, o llenado con helio y flotado sobre un mausoleo. Esta no es manera de pagar mis últimas deudas nostálgicas. De cualquier forma estoy fuera de las manos de ningún embalsamador pervertido haciendo su interpretación de cómo debo lucir, rellenando mis mejillas con su algodón."
Exhausto por toda esta conjetura, nuestro héroe consigue la oportunidad de su vida de conocer a su héroe: La Muerte. La Muerte tiene puesto un disfraz ligero, lo hizo ella misma. Lo llama el "Anestesista Sobrenatural." A La Muerte le gusta conocer gente y quiere viajar. La Muerte se acerca a Rael con su frasco de tabaco, echa una boconada, y parece alejarse contenta a la pared.
Rael se toca su cara para confirmar que aún está vivo. Descarta a La Muerte como una ilusión, pero nota una esencia almizclera flotando en el aire. Se mueve al rincón donde la esencia es más fuerte, descubriendo una grieta en la piedra a través de la cual está entrando. El trata de mover las piedras y finalmente abre un hueco suficientemente grande para ser atravesado a gatas. El perfume es aún más fuerte del otro lado y se dispone a encontrar su origen, con una energía recién encontrada.
Finalmente llega hasta una muy ornamentada piscina de agua rosada. Está profusamente decorada con incrustaciones en oro. Las paredes alrededor de la piscina están cubiertas con terciopelo color castaño del cual está creciendo madreselva. De la bruma sobre el agua vienen una serie de rizos. Tres criaturas como serpientes están nadando hacia Rael. Cada criatura reptiliana tiene la diminuta cabeza y pechos de una preciosa mujer. Su horror se vuelve apasionamiento a medida que sus suave ojos verdes muestran su bienvenida. Las Lamia lo invitan a saborear el agua dulce y el entra rápidamente a la piscina. Tan pronto como él traga un poco de líquido, una pálida luminiscencia azul gotea de su piel. Las Lamia lamen el líquido; muy delicadas a medida que comienza, con cada nuevo contacto él siente la necesidad de dar más y más. Ellas soban su carne hasta que sus huesos parecen derretirse, y cuando siente que no puede ir más allá, mordisquean su cuerpo. Tomando la primera gota de su sangre, sus ojos se ennegrecen y sus cuerpos son sacudidos. Aturdido por la pasión desvalida él observa mientras sus amantes mueren. En un intento desesperado por meter lo que queda de ellas en su cuerpo, él las toma y come sus cuerpos, y lucha por abandonar el nido de sus amantes.
Saliendo por la misma puerta desde donde había entrado, encuentra una especie de ghetto de monstruos al otro lado. Cuando alcanzan a verlo toda calle de figuras distorsionadas rompe a reír. Uno de la colonia se le acerca. Es grotesco en todo sentido, una mezcla de feos bultos y muñones. Sus labios se deslizan a lo largo de su mentón mientras sonríe en señal de bienvenida y ofrece un resbaloso apretón de manos. Rael está un poco desilusionado, cuando el Slipperman revela que toda la colonia ha atravesado uno por uno la misma gloriosa y romántica tragedia con las mismas tres Lamia, quienes se regeneran a si mismas cada vez, y que ahora Rael comparte su apariencia física y sombrío destino.
Entre las caras retorcidas de los hombres Slipperman, Rael reconoce lo que queda de su hermano John. Se abrazan el uno al otro, John explica amargamente que la vida entera del Slipperman está dedicada a satisfacer la interminable hambre de los sentidos, la cual ha sido heredada de las Lamia. Sólo hay una ruta de escape; un temida visita al notable Doktor Dyper quien removerá el origen de los problemas, o para ponerlo menos cortésmente, castrará.
Ellos discuten el engañosamente llamado escape durante largo rato y deciden ir juntos a visitar el Doktor. Sobreviven la prueba y les son entregadas sus armas ofensivas en tubos de plástico amarillos, con cadenas de oro. "La gente usualmente los lleva puestos alrededor de sus cuellos", dijo el Doktor entregándoselos. "La corta operación no necesariamente excluye el uso de la facilidad nuevamente, por períodos cortos, pero por supuesto cuando ustedes lo quieran, deben avisarnos con suficiente tiempo." Mientras los hermanos hablaban de su nueva situación, un gran cuervo negro entra volando a la cueva, se precipita sobre ellos, agarra el tubo de Rael de sus manos y lo lleva volando en su pico. Rael le pide a John que lo acompañe.
Y él responde "No voy a perseguir un cuervo negro. Aquí abajo tú debes leer y obedecer los presagios. Hay desastre a dónde vuela el cuervo." Entonces una vez más John abandona su hermano.
El pájaro lleva a Rael bajando por un túnel, él parece permitirle mantener una distancia cerrada. Pero mientras Rael piensa que casi podría alcanzar al pájaro, el túnel se abre y termina en una hondonada subterránea. Casualmente, el cuervo suelta su preciosa carga en las aguas torrenciales de abajo. Es suficiente para volver un pobre muchacho loco de remate.
Viendo los peligros del empinado acantilado, nuestro valiente héroe se halla impotente y mira con ira. Sigue un pequeño camino que corre a lo largo de la cima, y ve el tubo subir y bajar en el agua a medida que la rápida corriente se lo lleva. Sin embargo, mientras pasa por una esquina Rael ve una luz del cielo sobre él, aparentemente formada en el banco. A través de ella puede ver la grama verde de casa, bueno no exactamente; puede ver Broadway. Su corazón, ahora un poco erizado, es sacudido por una oleaje de alegría y empieza a correr, con los brazos abiertos, hacia la salida. Justo en ese instante de tiempo sus oídos recogen una voz pidiendo ayuda a gritos. Alguien está luchando en los rápidos abajo. Es John. Se detiene por un momento recordando cómo su hermano lo había abandonado. Entonces la ventana empieza a desvanecerse -es hora de actuar.
Se apresura hacia el acantilado y baja las rocas gateando. Le toma mucho tiempo alcanzar el agua, tratando de ir a la par con la corriente al mismo tiempo. A medida que se acerca al borde del agua ve a John perdiendo fuerza. Se zambulle en el agua fría. Al principio es arrojado hacia las rocas, y halado hacia abajo por un canal que se mueve rápido, el cual lo lleva río abajo delante de John. Rael se las arregla para agarrar una roca, subir a la superficie y agarrar aire. Cuando John pasa, Rael se lanza de nuevo y agarra su brazo. Golpea a John para hacerle perder el conocimiento y entonces abrazándose juntos, se deja llevar por los rápidos hasta el agua lenta, donde puede nadar hacia la seguridad.
Pero mientras arrastra el débil cuerpo de su hermano al banco lo acuesta y mira esperanzadamente sus ojos buscando señales de vida. Se tambalea de temor, porque mirándolo con los ojos bien abiertos no está la cara de John -sino la suya. Rael no puede dejar de mirar esos ojos, hipnotizado por su propia imagen. En un movimiento rápido, su estado de conciencia se precipita de una cara a la otra, entonces de regreso una vez más, hasta que su presencia no está ya sólidamente contenido en uno u otro.
En esta estado fluido él observa a ambos cuerpos delineados en amarillo y el paisaje que los rodea fundiéndose en una bruma púrpura. Con un torrente repentino de energía que sube por ambas columnas vertebrales, sus cuerpos, de igual forma, finalmente se disuelve en la bruma.
Todo esto tiene lugar sin ninguna puesta de sol, sin ninguna campana sonando y sin ninguna flor cayendo del cielo. Aún así llena todo con su misteriosa presencia intoxicante. Está terminado para ti.
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