from by Alan Goffinski



About this audio:
The strangest beliefs that people hold seem to have happened very gradually. I think this is because sometimes it’s easier to allow one’s self to subscribe to one more strange little lie than it is to reexamine all strange little lies that got you there. Easier to take one more step in the wrong direction than it is to backtrack to the fork in the road. Easier to put up one more brick than it is to tear down the wall. And that’s all true. The only problem is when you’re wrong, you’re wrong. And there are consequences.

About this visual (Matt Helfrich):
Often, those who claim to have the clearest understanding of the voice of God are motivated by fear and selfishness to manipulate, oppress, or profit from others who seek the truth. When the final word has been spoken, these teachers will reap the emptiness and destruction they have sown.


The halls you’re calling home are cozy like the catacombs.
The washed eggshell white tombs, you never shake that smell.
And when the skies part on the Waterloo to your Bonaparte
The void that hosts the voice of God will be all that you have left.

It haunts you like you were the only one to blame
And it hovers like a Pentecostal flame.
It haunts you like you were the only one to blame
And it hurts you like he never knew your name.

Headstrong, you keep pretending I sing dessertissage.
Hold your applause, please.
Hold on. I don’t remember ever taking the shot, coup de grace.

Do you still speak in rhythm?
Steady on the floor.
Do you still speak in rhythm?
Will I hear the drums of war?
I hear the distant drums of war.

Shots fired across the bow. I acquiesce, I disavow.
That sacrosanct placated prose, the emperor’s new clothes.
That four lettered philosophic sick pseudonymous anonymous game.
Just hide your face and keep on burning up like you do.
Second cousin, once amused. An exiled Prussian twice removed.
Coat of arms hanging in the Louvre is all that you have now.
Because it’s all Greek to me you cool, clairvoyant Constantine.
On the qui vive for the king and what’s left of the crown.

I cannot look away now, and I don’t know where to turn.
More than a visceral backlash. Iconoclast, you’ve got a lot to learn.
I cannot see the difference and frankly it’s not a curse.
You don’t need to hide from the beast while she’s still busy
Eating the afterbirth.


from Language Burier, released June 3, 2016
Written, performed, engineered, produced by Alan Goffinski.
Mastered by Adam Wisz.
Artwork by Matt Helfrich.



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Alan Goffinski Indianapolis, Indiana

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