Mouse Flesh

by Neon Lushell

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Charles Hoffman
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Charles Hoffman Nice taster of spook-murk while we await "No Religion" Favorite track: Mouse Flesh.
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  • Mouse Flesh EP
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Get these exclusive mixes of songs from our upcoming double LP No Religion, and if you buy this physical format version get the bonus track our cover of Danzig's "How The God's Kill"

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about

This EP was mixed to be played at maximum volume, preferably with a suicide note near by.

The mixes on this EP are not representational of the intended final mixes to be found on Neon Lushell's upcoming double LP No Religion.

A "special" thanks to (o)+hers for once again doing an great job remixing us.

credits

released October 30, 2012

(0)+hers - Additional remixing "Ashes Fall (Grey Skies Over Germany Mix)"
Brian Pitt - Vocals, Lyrics
Ira Rat - Music, Production

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about

Neon Lushell Ames, Iowa

In 2012, Ira Rat started getting middle of the night voice mails from Brain Pitt. Long confessional voice mails, full of song and poems. After a few months of this, Ira decided to start taking these midnight laments and place them over his own nightmare inspired instrumentals. Thus Neon Lushell was born. ... more

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Track Name: Mouse Flesh
MOUSE FLESH
Cool ginger was in the air.
Autumn burning bright.
Your skin, flame speckled, ghost-like, and fair.
Swept my eye to the night.
Ginger liquids crystallized on our bleeding Fall.
Beading down our maple pole as winter draws near.
Burning summer, far away, October is here.
Fall apart from your world.
Of one within itself.
Broken skull on the shelf, question marks on fire, the burning question.
Carve numbers into my forearm.
I'm alone, and there is no one home.
Need a chance to release my heart.
In the bed with my eyes shut tight.
Nothing to prey to, darkness is all that I see.
Don't worship nothin'.
Nothing worships me.
Offer sanctuary to the slime dogs.
Rusty pipes/fading lights
Life is but a dream.
Sewers awake with soul-blood. Mother Teresa stuffs her face with cow tongue while the demons weep.
Ride the backs of balding, grey angels as they descend into black water.
What is waiting just below the surface?
What is below the black film of grey water?
Tuesday gave way to Wednesday and turned all of the picture frames into sweet bulbs of mouse flesh.
Rotten and filthy like my grandfather’s breath.
Come on the angels embedded in my crystal plate.
Set before me an arcade of jewels and I wish that the witch was you.