"brown recluse"  Parental Advisory genre: Experimental
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	Hide in the shadows, there is nothing out there but vices and viper fish down in the depths of the murkey ocean that is the polluted word, engulfing the one who cannot relate to anything...
	CD: Dull Throbbing Noise in a Madman's Skull   Label: Phantom Hillbilly/Lucifer Spat Credits: Germ Antifreeze, Sick Wells
	Story Behind the Song A quick taping of an argument out in the parking lot, revealing all the feelings that lie repressed below the surface of everyone's seething frustration... Lyrics Paleontologists are converging upon the sign, We clasp our hands and bow to the sun, the blasting zone has been sanctified, All experiences are to report to the hangar, When empti8ness is exacerbated by moments, two shapes will whither into angels, Eyes pecked out by shards of flourescent glass, Trilobites regurgitate small bits of protozoa, encrusted dust specks perhaps couging, In 800 million years since it all happened, Life still merely consumes and defecates, the Triassic period was the last happy age, Life was in balance flowers spawned, then the lizard became a race of Gods, and rats conspired to overthrow them, and conquer the world, our planet trembles on with a hollow pulse, catatonic now from pollution sickness, senile and dreaming of tearing off the skin, she drifts on through the vacuum almost nonexistent...

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