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The Blizzard
2014-08-25

I just ran across this old Terracide song we never got around to playing and it made me nostalgic. It would have been the first chapter post-Children of Euler split LP (which you can download here) (or you can just scroll down to the bottom of the page).

The Blizzard

when the stars were arenas of war
  cloudless skies flashed and thundered like storms
    all humanity hammered for ore
      resisting an extensive android offensive
      all oil or we die - AI's genocide

Kla watched the war at her friend's
  the courageous, the craven, the dead
    at commericial breaks smoked on the deck
      social networking pics of heros from hicksville
      last nights, drunken haze, toast the end of days

when the bombs reached her town flew the coop
  basement shelter - a tower of soup
    crosswords, console games, backgammon, blues
      while the ground shook and rumbled
      Kla pondered puzzles

still - the silent airwaves, the fuzz
swill - the free debris, the what was
swish - the virgin drinks, the weeks pass
wish - the door collapsing in
    some bot comes in blasting
    the end at last, but no

buzz - the songs repeat, the beat rote
scuzz - learns every line, every note
stain - Kla paints with cheese poofs and sobs
drain - routine and worriless
    so safe and purposeless
    surviving, worthless

as the casualties climbed on both sides
  countless corpses and frayed fiber wires
    mines and fuel lines began to run dry
      finite resources burning, engine rooms churning
      when a world is doomed nuke the mining moons

FTL fuel costs a curse
  soldiers stranded, the ends of the verse
    power down, comatose, victor's hearse
      the human hero's fate - hunger, barren worlds, tundra
      fuelless android ships float, eternal drift

Kla draws and drums in her room
  sings along to the stereo's blues
    till the power dies, silence ensues
      no more fuel for the furnace, climb to the surface
      final battery, stasis maddening

gunk - a blnding blizzard of ash
chunk - Kla trips on bodies and trash
blank - her town erased, a chaste land
rank - the stench of sulfur
    no signs of soldiers
    just bones and boulders, just

death - Kla's friends the ash in the breeze
dearth - no fame, no fortune, her dreams
dry - no sex, no gossip, no creams
dust - what's life without lust?
    the dicy dance clubs
    the late night hookups
      lost

when I smoked my last cigarette I was hungover as
    hell thinking well that's the life of a lousy floozy drunk
so I sobered up and hunkered down and survived
    but now all I want's to get douzed in booze and fuck

but life's just routine, bottled water, canned pears
read the same famous novels, dress up, do your hair
there's no one to impress now and nobody cares
but you go through the motions, you're older, aware

you feel like a fossil, a relic of yourself
nostalgia's the boss of you, pressed like a corsette
and yes life goes on but your future's all filled in
you're stuck on the past and you miss all the mystery

ash like snow so slow and cold
    a storm of swarming soldiers' souls
scavenged goggles, scavenged gloves
    a wagon, a shovel, matches, guns

the world's all predictable, sterile, statistical
one taste of the wasteland's the same as the next still you
wander and scavenge and ravage the rubble
a trash avalanche just to bask in the rumble

wanderlust that sends her west
  to seek survivors, silent quest
to pass the time she scours the waste
  the ash that fills her mouth
    the taste of death

and maybe some day someone else will appear
some sultry survivor with menthols and beer
we'll share all the plunder and dance all our years
but the real world is empty
    just ashes and tears

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