robertsavela
The Hellacopters' punk 'n' roll, hipness, and do what thou wilt...
Supershitty to the max magic brother can you feel it in the mystery middle of rock and roll and rock and roll beat on the brimstone higher lords roads we shall live well and do the necessary for our selfs one context to another and the joy of the “One.” Open eyes rollin’ heavy rollin’ low take both then it drops, screams free on the road with creative diversity and spare me goin’ down a Neal Cassady soundtrack maybe a wealthy piano a hundred miles an hour my thoughts too, freedom and intelligence. Pedal pushing all night long gathers no moss master guitars know what to do dawg always moving as a way of life, transformed by the journey.
Neo-beats in battle do what thou wilt at the end of the road is the beginning against fundamentalism. Heard it before, reject some loose parts and wake up and keep it cult come on strong morning. The beat, the drum beat, the beat’s beat looking you bet your sweet ass good times roll lonely with time to wander but who cares, lose your origin.
Strings getting friction frets on fire and up to kicking out of control defined by rebelliousness and swing that shit past the fan you squares. Is this all there is but slacker leisure? Hey Watts, seen you walking, drinking, anything to add to that - to this life, to this meaninglessness different beat dance dripping a clear coat over your ego sisters reinvent themselves and baby welcome to hell. High and low wins the race opposites attract and unite the planets in line dropping the fire, Gurdjieff would be proud. Take drugs sensitive and that to your grave.
The final fight of life is at your door politics are over peoples, indifference. Meaningless fights and glorified circuses like a star in the rain round the bush orders from the upstairs. River runs deep and enlightenment is at the bottom. Don’t cross with a helper pointed towards the T.V. stories to tell ya yeah hey sell your soul from the storm of self-destruction. Sometimes poverty, sometimes experience, sometimes a sax solo will do you good electric eyes sad but true says the guy that lives upstairs with the rock and roll blarin’ out into the streets that makes no sound put it down all night ride the stone up direction. Throw some beer bottles out there too, that’ll show ‘em we’re not taking it anymore temple door on the floor. Aesthetics of imperfection.
Rock and roll saves lives if you can come rhythm clean, like a heart transplant, or a blood transfusion or magic for the insane lonely or a peyote trip deep in the desert or up the mountain or call it a crucifixionville or a basement show kicking over Marshall stacks and metal-flaked things the devil stole the party. Can you feel it, your life, my life, a code to pay the chosen few. I’m alive push me over with a mic stand electric see the aura it has color and talking in tongues shit talk and white magic and skulls at the place of skulls name in blood on my sleeve. Bets go even side by side Swedish rock and roll is also just punk and roll and an attitude, its global planetary geometrics everywhere not bound by the past…neo-welcome…
Thanks to John Leland’s book Hip: The History.