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Antonin Artaud Lyrics
The young man held a gun to the head of God
Stick this holy cow
Put the audience in action
Let the slaughtered take a bow
The old man's words, white hot knives
Slicing through warm butter
The butter is the heart
The rancid peeling soul
Scratch pictures on asylum walls
Broken nails and matchsticks
hypodermic hypodermic hypodermic
RED FIX
One man's poison another man's meat
One man's agony another man's treat
Artaud lived with his neck paced firmly in the noose
Eyes black with pain,
Limbs in cramps contorted
The theatre and its double
The void and the aborted
THOSE INDIANS WANK ON HIS BONES (repeat)
Stick this holy cow
Put the audience in action
Let the slaughtered take a bow
The old man's words, white hot knives
Slicing through warm butter
The butter is the heart
The rancid peeling soul
Broken nails and matchsticks
hypodermic hypodermic hypodermic
RED FIX
One man's agony another man's treat
Artaud lived with his neck paced firmly in the noose
Eyes black with pain,
Limbs in cramps contorted
The theatre and its double
The void and the aborted
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No comments on antonin artaud? This is the most humorous bauhaus song, in my mind. It sounds rather punk too.
This song is about the trip that Antonin Artaud, a weird french author, made in Mexico in 1936. He travelled to Tarahumaras land where he experimented Peyotl ( Lophophora Williamsii ) which gave him visions.
@Godeyes The Peyote Dance is actually a fascinating book - if tripping, Atlantis and indigenous mysteries as perceived by a schizoid French surrealist are your thing.
@Godeyes The Peyote Dance is actually a fascinating book - if tripping, Atlantis and indigenous mysteries as perceived by a schizoid French surrealist are your thing.
Bit of a niche market there ☺
Bit of a niche market there ☺
It's about Antonin Artaud. Obviously.
Nihilists and Leftists love Artaud. In retrospect (I'm no longer the above though once I wrote a paper comparing Brechtian theater with Artaud's "Theater of Cruelty") he was just a tormented schizo who had a problem with God in Christ.
His ravings are fodder for godless academic hipster existential types.
But Bauhaus made a good disturbing discordant song out of it.