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Darkland Express part two

by Greg Segal

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Demolished 03:44
You are life So strange and cold You cannot hold my burning soul You are, you are my life You are days of madness past Of midnight tears and future fears You're never just today You're the place between the doors Where my heart lives but never knows The comfort or the beauty of My own sweet love My sweet demolished love You are life So strange and cold You cannot hold my angry soul You are, you are my life -Terry Ann Daugherty, 1991
Shadow Books 09:26
The old couple has a bookstore on the boulevard I only see it at night around closing time The old lady has a mouth, she does all the talking The old man stares from behind the counter From behind her He shuffles, grunts, mumbles under his breath I don't think he likes me Oh well I like this store, I have been here before They've got books you can't find anywhere else Latest writings by authors long dead Rare works I was not aware ever existed (Of course, perhaps, maybe they don't...) Well they rudely remind me it's closing time And they want my host eyes to leave Gotta make a change (can't explain how) Who am I with now? She's been working there part time, I think Overtime on black wet Sundays Not much of a life She doesn't miss her time much There's a small apartment upstairs, around back They wouldn't rent it out to just anyone It's rented out to this girl I'm her shadow tonight As I have been, it seems, on other nights She's sensitive, shy and lonely Getting older, sort of plain She doesn't like herself very much Thinks most of her life's been spent in vain In her quiet dim lit room The darkness leaks in from outside From the black humid sky To the shadows that hover in the corners All around Heat that simmers up the smells Of paint, carpet, old clothes and All the personal scents inside a dwelling Like a fingerprint, no two exact but many alike Tonight again she's sad She's argued with the old woman Who is harsh and blunt A sensitivity flattened and razed By years of hard living The old woman doesn't trust her to pay And has too many rules for her not to break any The girl is disturbed, upset Her living space is in jeopardy She has nowhere else to go And probably no way to start over again No one to turn to for help Her too small apartment and her stressful job Are all she has Not true, not totally She has friends And at times like this she remembers them I've seen her party with them before Amber drink from the bottle Feel less pain and laugh it off for a while She's not lonely then, those nights are good But most nights are like this You think you're alone but I see you Your guard comes down and you cry And I know Your soul is like this night A choir of despairing voices Coming out of the dark Into your room...into the shadows Touching and merging with the darkness In your heart She likes this place, And though she hates the old bitch She'd hate to let it go A private place where she can be A person no one knows Naked walks at midnight Through the shelves of printed treasure Sensual, alive at last Dark solitude and pleasure The freedom of the unknown place Depopulated store at night A place to fully be herself Free spirit coming up for light The most light it may ever see Outside of in her head Better late at night than never Better 3 a.m. than dead Feel I'm slipping- got to go Hate to leave you crying But I'm one of those voices on the night My signal fades, dying Don't sit alone If you can, call some friends Who'll understand and change the mood To something higher, just to get you by I like this place I like you too It's a sure bet I'll remember you You both have cheap class And that's the richest kind there is And if I get cast this way again We can looks through the books And dance naked in the aisles after midnight Celebrate freedom surrounded by knowledge Cloaked in mystery and the force of life I'd like to see you again sometime Yes maybe I'll see you Somewhere Down the line G.S., 6/20/91
Out Of Reach 02:58
Not Me 02:25
Who will claw his way to the top Stepping on other souls Not me, not me Who will be the next big thing The latest sage for sale Not me, not me Who will have a lot to show A lotta respect and a lotta dough Not me, not me Don't you see that how you get there Cheapens who you are It's not that I care what you might think But when you're gone I'm still here Who can win with a heart full of fear Success demons in your ear Not me, not me It will appear the winner takes all Arrogance before the fall Not me, not me You'd drop anchor in a bottomless pool The last is the first and you are a fool Not me, not me G.S., late 92
Motifs 04:57
Motifs- Thoughts in the night Of a cul-de-sac I'd have once called my wife Is this how legends are born Annoying persistent Unwilling to die and be forgotten This ground looks familiar- A night town full of dead end streets It's just a reflection of the same old show Midnight movie running in my heart The screen is the empty shadow world Hinting at ghosts Silent echoes in my head Ghosts don't die but some fade with time Like streetlamps fade at the end of the night Just before dawn Making room for new arrivals Curtains flutter in the dark behind unlit windows Pale flashes like faces when there's nothing there Just dust and memories Shells Of stillborn infant dreams to keep me company Over and over again Some of them look like people I've known Some of them look like me Sorrow the trait that links them all For things that had been or will not come to be Rumor has it that ghosts can only hurt you If you let them within I suppose it's true But we can't be strong all of the time On dead nights like these something wells up inside And I want to shout and wake the living because I know All you'll ever offer me is dead ends and wrong turns And I'd spit in your eye or insult you If I thought it would make a difference But all I can do is move on And try never to look back on Motifs- Thoughts in the night Of a cul-de-sac I'd have once called my life Is this how legends are born Annoying persistent Unwilling to die and be forgotten G.S., 6/12/91
Underground In tunnels wet and grey There is a world apart from light of day They chased us down here Can't let them find us first It's us or them Let's smash some head, my love This time we're in the right Let's put an end to them And walk home through the night Past cars and neon mist Where did you go Now I'm alone How did it end? No one's around Just me alone Out on the street walking home Through the night Past dew soaked cars The neon mist hangs in the air Above my head Above my head Where did you go? Where did you go? G.S., 6/17/91
The exploration Searching for a secret place Our own We played this game as children We still need it now Down here wet cement vaults And muddy shores A shunned place to make camp Underneath it all Beneath the games On the refuse of others We find some color Some rest And the world goes away for a while. G.S., late '92
Leaving 05:54
Quick flashes- Bookstore Just out of school Gotta catch a plane Tan misty sky threatens rain It's morning and I've just awoke And I'm not sure where I am but I think there was a swinger's party here last night It sounds like it still might be going on I've got my luggage and I'm off down the hall I think there's two hours to go before my flight I hear a sound as I pass a utility closet So I open it to find A woman in a tight black leather cocoon Hanging from the rod by a harness around her chest Mummified head to toe not a drop of her shows Hands and feet bound together behind her Suspended in a hog-tie She moans and writhes behind the gag and hood I assume, I hope, in ecstasy I'm not sure but I think I hear the hum Of a vibrator somewhere inside of her I want to play but I don't know who she is And I don't want to spoil someone else's scene Besides, I've got a plane to catch Well...what the hell... This is a swinger's party, right? So I set my luggage down, roll up my sleeves and go to work Tweaking her nipples through the leather She moans in surprise and pleasure (She didn't know I was there) The action seems to drive her nuts She must have been horny for hours I tease her until I come From hearing her moan and watching her writhe then I look down at my watch and realize I'd better get a move on She's moaning even more now but I shouldn't make her come She's not my slave, it wouldn't be right The torture's much worse when the orgasm's done And it's not my place to release her I exit the closet and look both ways Not another soul around Shut the door behind me drowning out delicious sound On the way to the airport my head pounds Can't remember the wild night before And suddenly I wonder Will anyone else remember she is there? I hope so. Guess I'll never know. G.S., 6/20-21/91
Sitting near the river as the light expands the day Raining warmth into my head, I see another way Water, flowing movement, birds are singing They are free Is freedom our illusion Or just the time to be Planes and ships and open fields are calling me to stray Diversions and illusions grant more temporary stay Could it be the root is there For all to plainly see It's not some trip we're looking for It's just the time to be Vampiric trivialities pollute the blood of time Can there be transfusion Can the two worlds be combined Why should it take a miracle for all to plainly see It's not more clocks that people need It's just the time to be G.S., 2/89
Hey kids- Greg Segal here! By now, some of you may be wondering "Dude, like, like...what's Darkland dude?" Is it real? Is it a dream? And the answer is- Yes. So now you know- This is Darkland A place to hide your head in the sand While things inside us and around us drift apart Darkland- Caught in the works Lose your blues in the shuffle or watch them grow Reluctant or happy but pushing that cart Holes in the sky and the seasons disrupted Mile after mile of blackened coast This clockwork world we have superimposed Is a parasite destined to die with its host So you may dance on its grave or sing its eulogy Weep for the past or rot in lethargy Or say nothing has changed and pretend Because it may not really matter in the end Yeah, OK, pardon me for me being overdramatic I wax philosophic and vent my fears You've heard it before, it accomplishes nothing Wordy complaints for your tired ears But it may be the most I can honestly do So take it or leave it, that's up to you. I've said my piece, I'll shut up now Until something bugs me again Until then- Have yourself a merry little doomsday Play a good game, stay out of that rain Don't get too much sun Have as much fun as your schedule permits And hell, don't take me too seriously, After all, none of this stuff is real, Right? Good morning Good day Good night Pleasant....dreams? G.S., 7/18-19/91


Please see "Darkland Express part one" for full album notes. Notes for individual tracks are here with each.


released April 29, 2016

Greg Segal played: 6, 12 string and fretless electric guitars; acoustic guitar; 4 and 8-string basses; acoustic and electric drums/percussion; organ; vocals, breathing and whistling; tapes; bowed device; keyboards; piano.

Written 1980- 1992. Recorded at Phantom Airships 2 & 3, and at McKeever Manor with the Airship mobile, 6/91-10/92. Backing track for "Open Letter" recorded with the Guddie remote at the Dogpit, '92. Additional overdubs and mix done in 1996 at Phantom Airship 4, and 4/16 at Phantom Airship 7.

Remixed and remastered April 2016.

All songs written and performed by GS, except:

Demolished: lyrics by Terry Ann Daugherty.

Open Letter From the Author: music, "Toccata and Fugue in Dm- in D Major" by J.S. Bach, arranged (almost beyond recognition) and performed by Dog Neutral; lyrics by GS.


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